Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 893 - 13 The Reform Council_2
Chapter 893: Chapter 13: The Reform Council_2 Chapter 893: Chapter 13: The Reform Council_2 Caman stared at the water in the cup as if the Holy Mother appeared in the reflection.
Winters sat back in the chair, his tone carrying a hint of reproach: “How can you be so naive?”
Caman suddenly lifted his head, his gaze piercing Winters.
“Since you’ve used my name, there’s no way you could keep me in the dark! Look, didn’t Emond find his way directly to me?”
Unperturbed by Caman’s angry stare, Winters casually commented:
“I initially thought you had a special status in the Church. And the outcome? You couldn’t even suppress a few country Priests! Is this how the Church favors users of Divine Arts? I really wonder, how does the Church balance power and Divine Arts? Don’t you ever rebel?”
“Enough! Do you think we are like you?” Caman was absolutely incensed: “The status of the clergy is equal, not distinguished by the divine gifts as high or low, noble or base!”
“Equal? Then what about the Holy Orders?” Winters retorted: “Why are some Bishops, some Priests, and some poor enough to starve to death?”
...
“The Holy Orders are sacraments, they are missions and responsibilities! When knocking on the gates of heaven, everyone is equal!”
“Missions? Responsibilities? Do you really believe in what you’re saying?” Winters propped up his chin.
Caman rolled up his sleeves: “[Profanity – despite being emotionally volatile, it has weak lethality]!”
“Alright, alright.” Seeing that he was about to personally experience a potentially fatal Divine Art, Winters quickly called a halt: “I’m not here to debate theology with you. Didn’t the great debate end thirty years ago?”
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“I only have one question for you.” In an instant, Winters’ expression turned cold, his swift emotional shift catching Caman off guard.
Winters asked coldly, “Where is that captive?”
…
A quarter of an hour later, at the lodging of the Revodan military officers.
After making a round, Winters found himself back at his own residence.
Winters finally understood – why did Father Emond offer him a shameful bribe? Why didn’t the Revodan Monastery simply kill the person first and report later?
Caman had hidden the person in the lair of the Blood Wolf; who would dare to reach out?
“You’ve hidden the person here?” Winters asked Caman in surprise.
Caman seemed embarrassed, but still responded with a cold expression: “A temporary stay.”
“What I mean is.” Winters pointed at the kitchen door, somewhat incredulously: “Regardless, the person is a clergy member, and you’ve put them in the kitchen.”
Caman was even more ashamed: “It was Brother Saul who requested this.”
Pushing open the door, the kitchen was warm. The fire burned vigorously, and something “burbled” in the pot.
An old man with gray hair hunched over the stove, peeling the skin off a beet.
Winters could never have imagined that the “heretic” whom the Church of Iron Peak County insisted on purging, would turn out to be such an old man nearing the end of his days.
The old man didn’t seem surprised by the arrival of Winters and Caman, as if he had long anticipated this moment.
He squinted to see who the visitors were, nodded in greeting, and continued peeling the beet in his hands.
Winters walked to the side of the pot to take a look at the thick soup being cooked.
“So the soup this morning was your creation.” Winters smiled wryly: “No wonder it had a taste of the prairies – I thought I was imagining too much.”
“Just a slapdash effort.”
Winters couldn’t help but laugh heartily: “Isn’t ‘slapdash’ how the Herders make soup?”
The old man also showed a knowing smile, with only Caman standing awkwardly aside.
“Elder, I have some questions to ask. But he won’t tell me.” Winters pointed at Caman: “So I have to come to you.”
“Ask away,” the old man picked up another beet, continuing to peel: “If you’re willing to listen.”
Winters sat down on the floor, because he was taller than the old man, their gazes leveled: “Haven’t you taken a vow of secrecy?”
“I did.”
“You can still speak even after taking a vow of secrecy?”
“I can.”
“Brother Saul!” Caman spoke out anxiously.
“Brother Caman,” the old man referred to as Saul continued peeling slowly: “I’ve been excommunicated.”
Caman was left speechless, angrily pushing the door open to leave.
“He doesn’t want to listen, so he left.” Winters got up, poured two cups of hot soup, and sat back down: “That’s alright, we can talk slowly.”
The old man was noncommittal.
Interrogations typically start with questions about name, age, and origin, but Winters didn’t care for those details. So he went straight to the crux of the matter: “Why does the Revodan Church insist on killing you?”
The old man was silent for a moment: “Because I belong to the [Reformist Association].”
Once a lead was found, the rest was simple.
“The Reformist Association.” Winters continued inquiring along that keyword: “What is that?”
“The Reformist Association is…” the old man stopped his hands, a complex emotion that Winters couldn’t understand appeared in his eyes, but it was only for a moment.
The old man continued peeling the beet: “An association that has already perished.”
“It’s alright.” Winters took a small sip of the hot soup: “I have time.”
…
…
What is human nature?
The pursuit of reason? Or the uncontrollable impulse?
The binary form clearly cannot effectively explain this, but even the most pessimistic philosophers of human nature have to admit: sometimes, the pursuit of reason takes precedence.
For exploring the laws of everything is an instinct of mankind, even faced with “God,” humans would want an explanation.
Hence, we witness a peculiar sight: the foundation of orthodox scholastic theology is rigorous logic, and given its premises, scholastic theology is logically consistent.
