RLQ - Chapter 24
Chapter 24: Myriad Submission
The scriptures held high by the Old God Sect followers fell to the ground in the torrential rain.
The strong wind and rain carried away the scorching heat of midsummer, and also carried away their recent anger and courage.
They stood there, pale-faced and stunned, trembling amidst the rolling thunder. The rain lashed down on the church roof with a "whooshing" sound, and simultaneously washed heavily over them—their stubbornness, their arrogance, their power.
Thud.
An Old God Sect follower who had just attempted to rush the platform fell heavily to his knees, hitting the hard stone.
He prostrated himself deeply, pressing his forehead tightly against the ground, as if hoping to feel the Queen's power transmitted through the earth.
The second, the third, the fourth... At first, they knelt one after another, then the crowd knelt in swathes.
Madam Kelly dropped the poison hidden in her sleeve and knelt with tears in her eyes; Dalton knelt silently, lips pressed together; Heinrich put down his sword and knelt with a complex expression... Finally, in the church, only Archbishop Rhodri remained standing, looking dazed.
He stood on the lowest step of the platform.
The rain was heavier than ever, even splashing in through the double-arched windows high on either side of the church. The midsummer heat had completely vanished in the recent gale, and the rain carried a biting chill as it fell upon him. He was oblivious, his long-held beliefs being battered, teetering in the thunder. What was right? What was true piety?
The monks of the St. Lorrain Order, who claimed to be loyal servants of God, would seize lakes and marshes; his revered mentor stubbornly clung to the Queen's gender, ignoring the conflict before them; the Queen, denounced as a heretic, cared about the life and death of the entire nation, she spoke words that even heathens wouldn't utter, disrespecting the divine, yet the divine sent down a torrential rain for her...
—No, you are mistaken, I am the chosen one.
In the thunder, the Queen's words echoed in his ears.
Then... prove it to me.
And so, she proved it.
Overwhelmingly, his world was collapsing. Lightning tore through the sky, also tearing apart the firmly held beliefs he had adhered to.
"Daughter of Two Kings, King of Roland."
He murmured, and then slowly, knelt on the steps.
"Daughter of Two Kings, King of Roland!"
The followers closest to him heard his whisper. In the violent power of a world submerged by rain, they grasped onto it like a rope that saved them and gave them strength.
So they forgot everything, and cried out passionately—
"Daughter of Two Kings! King of Roland!"
The sound pierced through the heavy rain curtain and reached outside the church.
The ground of the square outside the church was heavily beaten by the rain. The downpour was like a whip held in the hand of an angry deity, sweeping across the ground in gusts, lashing at the people. The crowd gathered outside the church knelt in the accumulated water, letting themselves get soaked.
When the shouts came from inside the church, these people joined in the shouting amidst the sound of the rain.
"Daughter of Two Kings!"
"King of Roland!"
...
When the Queen, draped in a cloak, walked out of St. Mary's Cathedral surrounded by the crowd, the shouts grew even louder, so loud that they broke through the blockade of thunder and rain, carried by the wind and rain, surging through the streets and alleys of the entire imperial capital.
It would spread even further, throughout Roland, throughout the Sea of Heaven, throughout the entire world and the entire era.
The sound of the sea surged.
Dark clouds covered the sea, and black petrels could be vaguely seen darting like arrows through the wind and waves. A three-masted ship sailed on the sea, and a falcon, amidst the wind and waves, accurately found the ship, folded its wings, and flew in through a window opened for it.
Prince Arthur sat in the captain's cabin, reached out, and took the sealed message tube from the falcon's leg.
"Daughter of Two Kings, King of Roland."
He unfolded the letter, read it once, and murmured to himself.
It wasn't that Prince Arthur didn't want to stay and participate in the rain-summoning on the 28th, but his brother seemed to have become wary and sent him a new letter of warning. More importantly, his mother had already begun attempting to break into his palace without hesitation. Prince Arthur was forced to leave the Roland Empire.
Because of this, during the voyage these past few days, the accompanying officials tried their best to avoid disturbing the Prince, who was in a state of fury.
The scribe beside him heard Prince Arthur's murmur and his eye twitched violently.
Gods above, he absolutely did not want to get involved in any royal brotherly scandal; it would cost him his head.
However, unexpectedly, Prince Arthur's tone was not one of infatuation, but rather one of surprise and doubt.
Prince Arthur read the letter again.
The first time, he had almost thought this letter was written by some monk in a hallucination. It used large swathes of intense language, almost bordering on madness, to describe a scene that seemed utterly impossible—thunder, torrential rain, a crown, a queen, a church.
But the name at the bottom was correct; it was the envoy who had remained in the Roland Empire, and he was always rigid, silent, and meticulous, thus he most disliked the Queen of Roland, viewing her as a disaster.
Asking him to praise the Queen of Roland would be less pleasant than asking him to go to hell and dance a close dance with a demon.
Prince Arthur closed his eyes, imagining the miracle mentioned in the letter amidst the sound of the rain.
The light of lightning illuminating the huge rose window, the saints on the stained glass being washed by the rain, in the cold and eerie world, the silver-haired Queen in a linen dress wearing a crown, spreading her arms... What a scene to shock the world, what a magnificent, divine scene. How many people must have knelt before his Queen that day?
"Daughter of Two Kings, King of Roland."
Prince Arthur softly repeated the phrase, an unnatural flush appearing on his pale cheeks, as if he too had witnessed her divine radiance in that church.
The scribe beside him turned completely ashen.
Alright, this time, the Prince's tone had become genuine infatuation and fanaticism.
"It's all his fault."
As the scribe felt a bitter taste in his mouth, Prince Arthur suddenly opened his eyes. Seeing his expression and gaze, the scribe broke out in a cold sweat—the color of his eyes had deepened significantly, a hint of madness and violence showing through the blue, and the flush on his cheeks had become exceptionally morbid.
—He's gone mad again.
Without a word, the scribe turned and ran.
The Rute royal family had kept this secret well hidden from the outside world, but those who served the royal family knew that Prince Arthur had inherited his maternal grandfather's intermittent neurological disorder. In a state of emotional agitation, the Prince was capable of anything. It was precisely because of this that the Queen Mother had always disliked this son of hers, viewing him as a disgrace.
Prince Arthur grabbed him by the throat.
"It's all his fault," Prince Arthur murmured, "Don't you agree?"
The scribe looked at him in terror, feeling the Prince's grip tightening, his breathing becoming more difficult: "Yes, yes, yes, it's all his fault... his fault..."
God knows who Prince Arthur meant by "he".
"If it weren't for him and that woman wanting me back in the Rute Empire, I could have witnessed it with my own eyes..." Prince Arthur muttered to himself.
This time, the scribe vaguely guessed who "he" and "that woman" referred to—His Majesty Orsis and the Queen Mother.
"How about I just kill him?"
Prince Arthur suddenly seemed to have thought of a brilliant idea. His eyes lit up instantly, like an innocent child thinking of something that made him happy—with a childlike cruelty.
The scribe's eyes rolled back, and he plunged himself into darkness.
Prince Arthur casually tossed him aside and paced the room.
"That must have been the most beautiful scene, and I missed it!" He drew a rapier and plunged it fiercely into a hanging painting. "I missed it!"
He shouted in rage, his voice drowned out by the waves.
Just as Prince Arthur received the letter quickly, everything that happened at St. Mary's Cathedral spread rapidly. Countless carrier pigeons were released simultaneously that day, flying in all directions.
Countless people were filled with doubt and surprise, countless people couldn't believe it, countless people trembled.
Balde and the John brothers were imprisoned in Whitehall Prison that same day.
Compared to the harm caused by the Heinrich family's poison to old Father Balde, the rain that fell from the sky seemed to have struck him harder. When he was taken into Whitehall Prison, he kept muttering something silently. Watching the movement of his lips, he seemed to be repeatedly saying the words "judgment" and "impossible". The John brothers subsequently lost their former esteemed status in people's eyes.
The nobles who had previously participated in the rebellion fell into an eerie silence.
For Roland, August 28th felt like a dividing line, separating the past from the present. For a very long time, no one dared to question Adele Roland's crown again. Now, people genuinely shouted, "God Save the Queen."
The rain continued for several days.
But except for the first day, when the rain was so heavy it seemed like the gods were angry, the rain gradually became gentler in the following days. People watched with joy as the dry riverbeds filled with water again, and the vegetation gradually regained vitality, just as the saying went—God Save the Queen, and the Queen protects her people.
On the seventh day of the rain, Archbishop Rhodri burst into the Queen's palace.
In the corridor, he met Heinrich face to face. As they brushed past each other, Heinrich glimpsed a gemstone on Archbishop Rhodri's cuff that looked somewhat familiar... When and where had he seen it?
Candlelight, a red dress, the starlight on the Queen's skirt as she twirled.
The thought flashed by, and Heinrich had already stopped Archbishop Rhodri: "Her Majesty is unwell, perhaps the Archbishop could come back tomorrow."
—He had also come to see the Queen, but unfortunately, the Queen had politely declined his request for a meeting, citing "unwell".
Whether she was truly "unwell" Heinrich didn't know, but this didn't prevent him from being full of suppressed anger and stopping Archbishop Rhodri. First the position beside the throne, then the golden rose, and now the gemstone cuff on the Archbishop... How many people had she bestowed favors upon?
It was as if he was watching, wide-eyed, as everything that originally belonged to him was being taken away bit by bit by others.
"Move aside."
Archbishop Rhodri's tone was cold and hard.
Heinrich vaguely sensed that his state today was somewhat abnormal, but the anger from being refused by the Queen just now, coupled with that inexplicable feeling of depression, made him stand rooted to the spot.
A cold glint, Archbishop Rhodri actually drew a sleeve sword.
If Heinrich hadn't reacted in time and stepped back, the sword might have already wounded him.
"Good moves," Heinrich's face instantly darkened. "Archbishop, or should I say Temple Knight."
As he spoke, his right hand had already drawn the sword hidden beneath his cloak.
Several cold glints flashed through the corridor. One was in an abnormal state, the other was full of suppressed anger. Two people who would normally never do this began fighting in the corridor, heedless of the surroundings.
Clap, clap.
Applause sounded from the other end of the corridor, interrupting the untimely duel.
"I am pleased that both gentlemen are skilled, but if you wish to duel, please find another location." Adele, draped in a dark blue, almost black cloak, stood not far away watching them, showing no signs of being unwell.
"You look to be in excellent condition."
Heinrich blurted out the words without thinking, carrying a hint of resentment.
Adele raised an eyebrow, her gaze sweeping over the Archbishop's sleeve, vaguely guessing why he was particularly unusual today. But there was someone even more unusual—Archbishop Rhodri was gripping the sleeve sword, standing in the outer part of the corridor where the rain was slanting in, falling on his pale face.
He was completely soaked, as if he had come through the rain.
"Very well, the Archbishop may have something to say." Adele nodded slightly towards Heinrich. "If you are here about the Port Regulations, let's discuss it tomorrow."
Heinrich's lips twisted. He seemed to want to say something, yet also seemed to be desperately restraining himself. Finally, he let out a cold snort, sheathed his sword, and strode away.
"What do you want with me?"
The Queen, draped in her cloak, walked unhurriedly towards the Archbishop.
"Tell me—"
Archbishop Rhodri's face was pale. He stood in the rain that was hitting the corridor, looking unlike a living person. His steel-blue eyes, which had always been firm and sharp, now seemed to have cracks like shattered glass.
With the fanaticism and desperation of a dying person grasping at a last straw, he asked urgently:
"Please tell me, what is right? What is true faith?"
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