How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 145: Heretics (6)

Anyway, this was roughly the situation at our settlement.

Then I declared that 'we need not specifically identify heretics or infidels.'

Slurp.

"L-look, the window curtain has been drawn!"

"Please, p-p-please look this way!"

"Please come out! Give us an answer!"

And this is the result.

Approximately 5,000 people have gathered in front of my lodging like obsessed fans... it's chaotic.

Of course, most are English.

Particularly those who have recently arrived.

As soon as they heard the news, they panicked and rushed to my house.

...Of course.

They're not making a fuss because they can't punish the spirit worshippers or Muslims living next door. The community has coexisted peacefully with these neighbors for years, maintaining a delicate but functional balance. The occasional tensions never escalated beyond mild discomfort, and many have formed genuine friendships across these faith boundaries despite their theological differences.

What they really want to ask me is probably...

'The meaning and reason for our community's existence.'

I declared that even I don't know all of God's will.

I also declared that in this community, we cannot identify heretics and infidels.

This must be shocking to those who have believed that this community was 'a holy community established according to the Lord's will.' For many, this belief formed the bedrock of their identity, the justification for sacrifices made and hardships endured. Some elders visibly recoiled at my words, while younger members exchanged confused glances, trying to process this paradigm shift.

If this community is not the Lord's, what should they believe and follow now?

What will happen to those who have believed in and dedicated themselves to this community?

Could this community have been created by an angel's unilateral decision?

Is it alright for us to continue believing in and following 'Nemo'?

Is this community heretical?

...How should I answer these questions?

They are very complex and difficult questions.

"..."

In fact.

My deliberation is already over.

I rose from my half-reclined position on the bed. When I opened the door, the kitchen-cum-living room came into view.

Six people were waiting there.

"N-Nemo! You've come out!"

Eleanor Dare.

"Goodness, it's chaotic outside! How to calm them down..."

Thomas Hewett.

"Everything will happen according to the Lord's will... Don't worry too much."

Walter Raleigh.

"My goodness (Dios mío), somehow it must be so! If not, everything is over, isn't it?"

Vicente González.

"Our community will survive. It must..."

John White.

"The tribes' reactions are still calm. And hopefully... will remain so."

Manteo.

Except for Shakespeare, who had gone to London's theaters, and Bacon, who had returned to politics, all those who had gathered then were gathered again.

Yes.

Let's go back to the beginning.

To when I first properly established a 'denomination.'

==

Though it was quite a spacious room, it felt cramped with seven people standing.

With so many people gathered, the room felt somehow stuffy despite it being December.

Eleanor swallowed and looked around.

She remembered when she first saw Nemo in this New World. When she was 19, and Virginia was still toddling.

She and Virginia had grown and aged, but He still stood before her, looking the same as He did then.

She had experienced so many things during that long period.

She became the leader of a huge settlement, learned to use something called Excel, and even gained the title of 'Saint' while treating an epidemic.

Indeed.

She had grown over the past 10-plus years. She was no longer the reckless girl of the past.

She had grown by staying up all night making tables and learning theology from Mr. Hewett and Mr. González.

That's why she could understand how serious the current situation was.

People whispered various stories and were afraid.

Everyone said that Nemo was fighting an invisible devil.

And they said that this community, this holy community led by Nemo and the apostles, should be strong, especially in times like these.

But fear was also in the eyes of the apostles who said such things.

Fear flowed from the eyes of Baron Raleigh, her father, Mr. González, Mr. Hewett, and Manteo.

Everyone was confused, thinking about what might happen next.

But everyone had one thing in common.

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

"Nemo..."

"Ah, Eleanor."

Everyone believed in Him.

Eleanor feels her heart slowly stabilizing at His calm smile, as always. It was clear that others were feeling the same emotion as Eleanor.

A gentle yet firm smile.

That smile had led them to where they were now.

"...We are in your presence, Nemo."

"Mr. Hewett."

Turning her head, Hewett, the closest to a 'clergyman' among the group, stepped forward and knelt before Him. Then the others also knelt without hesitation.

"Unsettling rumors are circulating. There are even stories questioning whether this community is holy."

"Of course, Mr. Hewett."

He speaks with a bitter smile.

"Of course... there would be."

"So please come before them and give them your words. We are ready to listen."

"..."

"..."

"..."

They knelt, waiting for His words.

They waited for the truth.

And He opens His mouth again.

"...What do you mean?"

"About the holiness of this community and your power, Nemo. So that no one can doubt that they came from the will of the almighty Lord..."

Everyone nodded at Hewett's words.

Hadn't everyone seen it? Hadn't they witnessed His power, His goodness?

So He just needed to speak.

That all His words, all His actions...

Came from the Lord...

"...No."

"...Pardon?"

At Nemo's words, Eleanor momentarily uttered a dumb sound.

Then His always calm and benevolent smile disappeared from His face.

Just as clouds covered the sky, the shadow on His face deepened.

Among those kneeling, He looked majestic like a towering rocky mountain.

"If a shepherd leads sheep, does every step of the sheep reflect the shepherd's will? Or if a servant delivers his master's words, is everything that comes from his mouth the master's will? One who looks only at the servant's lips, not the master, is one who listens to the servant's words, not the master's."

Feeling awe from that appearance, from that shadowed face... Eleanor hears His declaration.

"My words do not come from the Lord."

At that moment.

Eleanor involuntarily holds her breath.

The air all around freezes.

The foundation of this new sect is overturned.