Holy Idol [EN]: Chapter 734

734. Letter Commotion

Rembrary was beginning to understand that his talent wasn’t just natural; it was exceptional, even more so than he’d initially believed.

He repeatedly flicked the light on and off under his blanket, unable to pinpoint the exact source, though it seemed to emanate from somewhere near his head.

‘Redrin, Redrin, can you see this? This is divine power, isn’t it? I can create a light that resembles you, Redrin!’

From beyond the clouds, Redrin watched, marveling at the display.

[My child might be far more amazing than I thought.]

[Indeed.]

Even Lumena refrained from teasing Redrin this time.

[That child might very well become your High Priest.]

Redrin, pleased by Lumena’s words, playfully tossed a cloud at his old friend’s face, feigning interest in the affairs of the Eastern Great Temple.

[I hear you have a promising child in mind as well.]

[I do. Rapsus.]

Lumena’s lips curled into a smile at the mention of his own child.

[He might become the youngest High Priest. He took a divine power test just four days before turning ten, and he already demonstrated divine power at the level of a high-ranking priest.]

[That’s impressive.]

[Isn’t it?]

Redrin watched Lumena’s beaming expression with satisfaction, and just as Lumena was about to launch into another boast, he offered the advice he’d been preparing.

[I hope your judgment has improved at least a little this time.]

[……]

Unaware that Redrin was distracted by his conversation with Lumena, Rembrary diligently showed off his newfound ability until, eventually, he grew tired and fell asleep.

* * *

The next day, Rembrary earnestly washed his face, his mind now seriously grappling with the implications of his new power.

Yesterday’s joy had faded, replaced by a nagging problem.

– Rembrary, when you go to the temple, try to act and speak like the other children. Just for about three years.

Rembrary recalled his mother’s request and buried his face in a towel.

Moreover, the High Priest had cautioned him against acting like a prince. He wasn’t entirely sure what ‘acting like a prince’ entailed, but he understood it meant avoiding standing out.

‘The other children don’t have divine power. If I’m the only one who does, I’ll draw too much attention.’

Even as he ate the bland food in the dining hall, Rembrary’s brow remained furrowed.

Richoel, assuming Rembrary’s sour mood stemmed from being denied his night walks, clicked his tongue inwardly.

It was during Holy Scripture study in the classroom that Rembrary had a breakthrough.

‘I just shouldn’t be the *first* to step forward.’

If another novice priest were to use divine power first, and *then* he followed suit, wouldn’t that allow him to blend in more easily?

Rembrary admired his own cleverness.

He took notes indifferently as Richoel droned on, all the while observing the other children.

However, they were all just little kids. It could be years before any of them manifested divine power.

Then, Rembrary’s gaze landed on a child with reddish-crimson hair.

He didn’t know most of the children’s names, but he knew this one: Lydal. The other priests often spoke about him.

Just when Rembrary was on the verge of forgetting Lydal’s name, someone would inevitably mention it, reminding him again.

Moreover, the child’s name seemed to pop up everywhere in the classroom during breaks, making it even harder to forget.

‘The other priests said he’s very talented.’

If that were the case, Lydal might be able to use divine power before long.

He would wait for Lydal to make the first move. If he displayed divine power after that, he wouldn’t stand out so much.

At that moment, Lydal, who had been hunched over a book, clutching his pen tightly, raised his head and looked directly at Rembrary.

Their eyes met, and Lydal quickly averted his gaze.

* * *

‘Redrin, my birthday is coming up soon. After this birthday, I won’t be a fake seven-year-old anymore, but a real seven-year-old.’

Rembrary’s birthday was fast approaching.

He didn’t remember all of his birthdays, but he had fragmented memories of them: large crowds, mountains of gifts so numerous he couldn’t count them. He had never even bothered to catalog all the presents he received.

But the High Priest, who had brought him here, had made it clear that Rembrary could no longer live like a prince.

Rembrary assumed that only he and Redrin would celebrate his birthday this time.

‘Rembrary, your birthday is coming up soon, right?’

But after the afternoon class, Richoel approached him during the break, feigning casual interest.

‘Yeah.’

Richoel smiled and asked, ‘Is there anything you want?’

‘A horse.’

‘Besides that.’

‘I want a private room.’

‘……Isn’t there anything a little more modest?’

‘The food is too bland.’

‘……’

Richoel looked at Rembrary with troubled eyes for a moment before forcing a smile.

‘I’ll find something suitable for a gift.’

‘Are you going to give me a gift, Richoel?’ Rembrary asked, feeling pleased.

‘Of course! I don’t know if you’ll like it, but I’ll do my best.’

Richoel, who had initially considered a doll, hesitated. But then he remembered another piece of news that would surely delight Rembrary and said with a bright smile, ‘And we can write letters to your parents. There are designated days for writing letters throughout the year, but it’s perfectly acceptable to write on your birthday.’

‘Can I write a lot?’

‘Of course!’

* * *

During self-study that day, while the other children studied, Rembrary wrote letters to his parents, older siblings, and nanny.

He wrote about his studies, the festival, and the Inquisitors [religious officials tasked with suppressing heresy]. He also complained about the bland food and the unpleasant priests.

After bragging about his divine power, it was almost time for dinner, and his hand was numb.

The only thing Rembrary omitted from his letters was his encounters with Redrin.

‘Wow, you really wrote a lot!’ Richoel said, genuinely impressed as Rembrary handed him the stack of letters he’d produced during self-study.

‘I had a lot to say.’

The children who knew Rembrary was from the Imperial Family pricked up their ears, worried that he might have written about them as well.

‘I’ll deliver the replies as soon as they arrive,’ Richoel said, dividing the letters and placing them in his pocket.

While eating, Rembrary smiled, imagining his family’s surprise upon receiving his letters.

But later, after he had returned to his quarters, taken a bath, and was sitting on his bed talking to Redrin (since he couldn’t go for a night walk), Richoel approached.

‘Rembrary.’

Richoel’s expression was graver than usual.

‘What’s wrong?’ Rembrary asked. Richoel glanced around at the other children before beckoning him to follow.

* * *

‘Someone seems to have read the letter you wrote,’ Richoel said quietly as they walked down the hallway.

Other novice priests ran past them, playing tag.

Forced to stop, Rembrary looked up at Richoel blankly.

‘Who?’

‘A bad person.’ Richoel’s face flushed as he answered.

He couldn’t bring himself to tell a child who was just turning seven that his letter had been reviewed in the temple conference room simply because he was a prince.

-That child is no ordinary novice priest. He is the youngest prince of Libulen [the name of the empire]. What if he wrote negative things about the temple?

Changing the state religion based solely on a child’s words was unlikely, but there were certainly ways to harass a temple. It wasn’t wise to be at odds with a powerful nation.

The priests were aware that Rembrary was adjusting well to the temple but hadn’t formed any close friendships.

Moreover, he had been suspected of involvement with demons during the festival incident and had been questioned by the Inquisitors.

Because of his age, he hadn’t been formally interrogated, but the Libulen Imperial Family would undoubtedly disapprove if they learned about it.

-If there are no problematic statements in the report, just send it. A seven-year-old’s letter is all the same anyway.

In the end, the conference room had opened several letters that the child had painstakingly written.

And a significant problem had emerged. The child’s letter was filled with content that made the priests’ hearts sink.

The accounts of the festival, the Inquisitors, and the ‘bad priests’ who had tried to attack him were particularly concerning.

‘Don’t be too upset. There are bad people everywhere,’ Richoel wanted to cry at Rembrary’s attempt at consolation.

The two left the novice priests’ quarters and passed the dining hall.

‘Then who is going to tear up my letter and rewrite it?’

‘Um, no. I think you can rewrite the letter tomorrow.’

‘Then why are we going now?’

Richoel led the child to the quarters used by people other than the novice priests and answered, ‘Because there’s a part in there about you using divine power.’

Rembrary followed Richoel without much thought, then his eyes widened. Even after hearing that someone had read the letter, he hadn’t considered that part.

‘Really? Then why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I was trying to look a little less smart for three years.’

‘!’

Rembrary wanted to ask Richoel if there were any other temples with children who developed divine power as quickly as he did.

But before he could ask, they arrived at their destination.

‘There will be a lot of people,’ Richoel said quietly, opening a door on the first floor of the quarters.

The inside was as large as several classrooms combined, with a large table in the center and several priests gathered around it.

‘There really are a lot of people,’ Rembrary muttered.

It seemed like almost all the priests, except for the novice priests, were gathered around that table.

Moreover, when Rembrary appeared, all eyes turned to him. The sheer number of eyes focused on him made the attention feel particularly intense.

But since he had been the center of attention like this several times in the Imperial Palace, Rembrary simply looked around at the people without much thought.

‘Rembrary, would you like to come over here?’

Hearing someone call his name, he looked in the direction of the voice and saw the priest who had asked him if the food was really bland in the dining hall, raising a hand as if to beckon him closer.

‘Why?’ Rembrary asked as he approached.

The priest asked with a complicated expression, ‘Rembrary, I heard you can use divine power.’

‘You saw it, right?’

‘Huh?’

‘Since you read it, you saw it, right?’

Rembrary didn’t intend to reproach him. He was simply correcting him.

But the priests, ashamed of having reviewed a seven-year-old’s letter, coughed self-consciously.

Heather, who was in charge, also had slightly reddened ears but asked with a kind smile, ‘Rembrary, can you show us here how you use divine power?’