Chapter 390: The Pen and the Scroll
Olivia had indeed never seen it before. When Corleon brought Agamemnon and the others to the Hall of Heroes, she had been taken by Cicero to dig out dove nests.
Afterwards, when she heard Melia talk about the Hall of Heroes, she had also pleaded with Corleon to bring her there.
But Corleon had refused every time.
And now, Olivia agreed with what Corleon had said—this place was indeed interesting.
It truly was interesting.
Her eyes glinted with anticipation.
She had heard that the Northland Hero, Hode Hoover, was here in the Hall of Heroes.
Moreover, due to her identity, she knew that this Hode Hoover was the designated successor of the King of the Northland who had defeated her.
Just as she had suspected back then, the King of the Northland had returned home and died shortly after.
And now, with Hode here in the Hall of Heroes, she felt this time she would finally have a good fight.
No matter how combative she was, there was simply no one in Greenwood who could match her in battle.
George perhaps could, but whenever they fought meaninglessly, he would always let himself be knocked down on purpose and then concede.
It was just like playing a knight game with a child.
As for what Melia had told her, that they couldn't make contact with the Heroic Spirits—Olivia felt that to Corleon, such a thing wasn’t absolute.
Corleon suddenly said, “After we’ve taken care of business, I’ll give you time to play.”
Olivia was delighted. She revealed a very ladylike smile and stood obediently in place.
Only then did Borien finally adjust to the scene before him. A vast open-air hall, and beyond it, floating matter resembling soil.
At the center of the hall stood a towering statue, its face indistinct, both hands raised high.
They stood at the same height as the statue’s hands.
Before them was a strange tree held aloft by those raised hands.
Or rather, a tree stump.
Its roots were tangled and dense, entwining over thirty Holy Relics or Sacred Artifacts. Among them, a misty gray fog struggled like a living thing, but was never able to break free from the entangling roots.
The trunk was extremely thick but very short, without a crown—just like a tree that had been cut, with only a couple of thin branches stretching out from its side.
“Is this the Hall of Heroes?” Borien murmured.
His voice carried longing, carried desire.
By now, who in Greenwood didn’t know of the legends of the Hall of Heroes? To enter it after death was the highest of honors.
“Yes, this is the very Hall of Heroes spoken of in tales,” Corleon replied.
“It’s… beautiful,” Borien’s voice came out as a sigh.
Corleon said, “Yes, this is the final destination of all human glory. Everything visible to the naked eye—even a speck of dust—is a flash of light in the history of humankind.”
“These sparks are faint for now, but one day, this place shall become a nation of heroes.”
“But, I didn’t bring you here just to admire the view below. It’s still a blank slate down there.”
Only then did Borien pull his gaze back and look at the strange tree stump before him.
He saw something familiar tangled in the roots. “That’s… Erebus?”
Corleon said, “Though taking the Holy Relic of Knight Wolf away from his side is a cruel act, Knight Wolf has already arrived in the Hall of Heroes. It is better for it to now serve its proper purpose.”
After a pause, Corleon continued, “Before the Church, the lords relied on the Faith of their churches to create powerful Holy Relics. This was borrowing the power of Faith to strip divinity from the gods.”
Borien was not a core member of the Church, so there were many things he could not fully comprehend, such as...
“Knight Borien, you may not know, but in truth, the birth of those gods was sustained by the power of Faith. The original purpose of creating these Holy Relics was to suppress those gods and extract their divine power,” Corleon explained, sharing these hidden truths.
“But as time passed, the nobles polluted by Original Sin chose to keep the Holy Relics’ power for themselves, using it to uphold their own rule.”
“This proved that such methods could not truly weaken the gods. Even after countless ages of imprisonment, their fundamental power was never fully stripped away.”
“But of course, that’s only natural—after all, this method was originally devised simply to sustain the existence of a great empire by siphoning divine power.”
Corleon’s words were individually intelligible to Borien, but together, they began to blur in meaning.
“Of course, these are forgotten times—you need not concern yourself too deeply,” Corleon added.
Only then did Borien ask, “So, was the Church of the Sanctuary founded to make this method of crafting Holy Relics disappear?”
Corleon smiled but did not answer directly. Instead, he said, “Faith can help gods ascend their thrones, but the heroes who are praised and worshipped—are they not also a form of Faith?”
“Just like the tale of Scholar Caleb. Some say he was a prophet who foresaw the future and laid down the laws of tomorrow.”
“These might be real events, or perhaps tales spun by bards. But either way, they are what people are willing to believe and pass down.”
“And so, is it not the same with the birth of those gods? The Lord created the world and nurtured the Twelve Pillar Gods. Yet those gods are but thieves, stealing the Lord’s power through Faith.”
“But the Lord is past, present, and future—omniscient and omnipotent. That the gods could steal power through Faith only proves that this was the power the Lord bestowed upon all living things. And such power should not be stolen by the gods to satisfy their own desires.”
“But now it is the New Testament Era. The Lord has entrusted the world to humanity. Thus, we must reclaim the power given to us by the Lord from the hands of the gods.”
Borien tried his best to understand Corleon’s words, but the more he thought, the more confused he became. It was as if a veil of mist covered his mind—and behind that mist was a fear of unfathomable power.
In the end, all he could say with a dry voice was, “I… I don’t quite understand what you mean. Perhaps, you could simply tell me what I should do, just like when you bestowed the Honorary Knights Order’s banner, and when you had us establish the Glory Knight Academy.”
Corleon smiled and said, “Then you can think of it this way: the New Testament Era needs heroes—countless heroes, praised by the people. And what tales are more worth praising than those of knights? As the president of the Knight Guild and the headmaster of the Glory Knight Academy, you bear a most vital responsibility.”
“And of course, such a heavy burden isn’t something the Church would have you bear alone. So, I will grant you two Holy Relics.”
As Corleon spoke, he pointed to the tree stump.
From the stump, a branch broke off, and a strip of bark peeled away. Both floated toward Corleon’s hand.
As he caught them, the branch became a pen, and the bark became a scroll.
He said, “Use this pen to write a knight’s name upon the scroll, and a trial shall appear for that knight. Should they overcome this trial, they will naturally have the qualifications of a true knight.”
Corleon handed the pen and scroll to Borien.
Borien hesitated, his fingers twitching, unsure whether to accept.
Corleon asked, “Why do you hesitate?”
Borien replied, “My mind remains hazy, as if some force prevents me from fully hearing your words. But I remember what you said—the importance of the Knight Guild. I desire Honor, but I’m not certain if I can carry such a heavy responsibility.”
Corleon said, “If I believe you can, then you can.”
Borien solemnly knelt on one knee in mid-air, raised both hands, and accepted the pen and scroll. He said, “Perhaps my strength is meager, and my body has grown old, but I will do my utmost to complete this great task.”
Corleon said, “Keep your original aspiration. Press forward with resolve. Perhaps the end of this path… is here.”
Clutching the pen and scroll, Borien said, “I hope that after my death, this place will have a corner that belongs to me.”
Corleon smiled and said, “Before that, you might want to go back and rest. Heal the wounds inflicted by Gary Floyd. When the number of knights confirmed by the Knight Guild reaches thirty-three, the Church’s knights will arrive for final assessment.”
Borien lowered his head, and then his figure vanished within the Hall of Heroes.
Only then did Olivia ask, “Will he really be able to enter the Hall of Heroes after his death?”
Corleon replied, “Everyone has the chance to enter the Hall of Heroes.”
Olivia said, “But you told him he would enter the Hall of Heroes.”
Corleon said, “I only said that perhaps the end of his journey lies here.”
Olivia's expression grew odd. She crossed her arms over her chest, closed her eyes, and said devoutly, “The Lord says, deceit is a sin. Mankind should speak honestly.”
Corleon replied, “Then I’ve spoken the truth. Anyone can enter the Hall of Heroes. Everyone may take it as their life’s destination.”
Olivia said, “That’s sophistry. Those are the words of a devil.”
Corleon replied, “I am the Pope of the Church of the Sanctuary. I hold the ultimate right to interpret the Lord’s words.”
Olivia wanted to argue further, but Corleon cut her off directly, “I have other matters to attend to. In the meantime, you may play in the Hall of Heroes. That is your reward. Once I’m done, your reward ends.”
Olivia immediately fell silent, then ran downward—and the invisible ground supporting her vanished like it never existed.