Elyon understood why the religious powers in this world were so obstinate. If the Pope or the Cardinals were unwilling to reform, then the opinions of the lower clergy or serfs were inconsequential. In the face of a human-shaped Gundam, any conventional army was a joke.
Elizabeth, connecting the dots, realized that the naval admiral overlapped with the image of a certain grumpy old man she knew. Her father seemed to have no sway over him, the admiral's uniform hanging awkwardly on his frame, and he had a habit of picking his nose in public. She had thought it was just seniority, but now she realized it was raw power.
After Drake finished, he sensed the admiration from the three others. Though obscured by a misty veil, he felt his status had risen.
"Mr. Scale, if I'm not mistaken, your church's Pope and the Cardinals are likely demigods or higher, with lifespans of hundreds or even thousands of years. Such individuals no longer care about wealth or status. What's important to them is maintaining stability and preventing the collapse of religion."
"Does that mean we have no hope?" Martin sounded despondent.
"No, on the contrary, you now have hope. The most powerful group at the top doesn't care how they rule; they just want as many devout followers as possible. Your biggest enemies now are those in the middle ranks—namely, the numerous mid-to-high-tier superhumans that make up the regional bishops and church bishops. Identifying clear enemies is the first step to finding a solution." Elyon didn't want to show off; he believed these individuals were no less intelligent than he was, they just lacked historical context.
"Indeed, if our strongest enemies are only Spirits and Saints, we are not without recourse." Drake himself was a Spirit preparing to ascend and harbored ambitions of becoming a sea emperor—a demigod with his own title.
"First, Mr. Scale, you need to identify groups with similar interests. Those who benefit from overturning the current religious system will support you," Elyon advised.
"Right, the vast majority of the public would support it, and I believe most of the grassroots clergy who haven't lost their faith would back me in abolishing the privileges of high-ranking clerics. Eliminating the tithe and compulsory servitude," Martin said.
Elizabeth chimed in, "Progressive nobles in Dunland would support you too. It's also a chance to reclaim fiscal power and strengthen government institutions."
Martin's hope was reignited, "Should I start advocating for these changes right away?"
Elyon shook his head, "No, on the contrary, you should not expose these intentions yet. The first step is to promote yourself. Otherwise, why would the vast majority of believers trust you? Don't assume they'll support you just because you asked nicely. That's wishful thinking. You need to build your reputation as a saint. That way, even conservatives won't oppose you, and your words will carry weight and be believed. Dunland's nobility will see you as a worthwhile investment."
Drake nodded in agreement, "The Detective is right. You need to prove you have the ability and the hope to influence your faith. That's when people will support you."
"The second step is to advocate that the doctrine can be interpreted by everyone, to free believers from blind worship of regional bishops. Master the doctrine thoroughly and engage in public debates with conservatives. Promote your progressive thoughts but still avoid directly calling for the stripping of privileges from high-ranking clerics."
"And then what?" Martin asked, eager for more guidance.
"First, make a name for yourself. Give talks in the community, resolve conflicts, and if you have healing abilities, offer treatment. Or set up a porridge stand for the hungry."
"I've been doing all that."
"But you need to let people know. Perform in public squares where there's a crowd. If you know any tabloid journalists, slip them some money to report your deeds."
Elizabeth bristled at Elyon's utilitarian tactics, "Shouldn't good deeds be done selflessly?"
"Selflessly? Aside from a few who do charity work to gain fame or satisfy their own conscience, isn't Mr. Scale's ideal the greatest good? I'm just helping him realize it. Even if he gains fame through the newspapers, the poor who receive healing or donations benefit tangibly." Elyon was a pragmatist, not a saint. He just wanted to help Scale in exchange for information.
"Judge the deed, not the intention. I believe as long as the poor benefit, it's enough," Drake said, considering himself not a bad person. As a pirate, he'd rob ships, but he'd leave them with enough supplies to reach the next port. He'd even escort refugee boats for a stretch, earning him a decent reputation at sea.
"That's... still difficult for me," Martin admitted.
"Then I advise you to give up. Everything comes at a price, and what you're facing is the smallest first step. In the future, you'll likely incite a war. Those conservatives won't just debate with you; they'll either physically destroy you or overturn the entire table when they realize they've lost public support and privilege. If you don't have the courage to face a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood for a new progressive religion, you might as well go back to tending your family bar."
Stung by Elyon's mocking words, Martin slammed his hands on the table, "No, I'm willing to pay the price, even if it damns me to hell. Detective, I believe in you. When I succeed, I will proclaim your name far and wide."
Elyon shook his head, "Next time we meet, just bring me that book with the strange writings. If the original is inconvenient, try copying some of it. I'm not interested in fame, just your ancient texts. Oh, and I've consulted a professor about it. Typically, it's called 'Classical Text.' I don't know what you call it in Dunland, but rest assured, once I make progress, I'll share it with everyone."
"Let's give a round of applause for Detective's selflessness," Drake said, even though he had no idea what 'Classical Text' meant. But a sucker willing to work hard was always welcome.
"The meeting is about to end; you have one minute left. The next meeting is scheduled for August 20th," the robotic voice of the orb interjected abruptly.