As he stepped out of the church door, Lindy Lortleek's steps were a bit unsteady, and he almost slipped. The paladin guarding the door stepped forward to support him. Seeing the tall, heavily armored guard bending down and extending his hands in a way that seemed as if he were about to pick up a fallen child or lift a baby from a basket, Lindy suddenly felt displeased. He waved his right fist, indicating that the guard need not bother, and continued down the stairs.
Some inconveniences he had already adapted to, such as when the deacon placed a small stool behind the lectern for him during sermons. Another example was the custom-made long pole in his study, with a clamp on the end, making it easier to retrieve books stacked on high shelves. Height was only an external inconvenience. The real problem was that he often felt his muscles had atrophied to the point where his feet couldn't truly plant themselves firmly on the ground. Most people naturally swing their arms and alternately step forward, transporting their bodies with the most appropriate posture, but Lindy couldn't do this. His legs had to exert slightly different forces to the left and right, and he had to rely more on the strength of his big toes. In earlier years, he could ignore these issues, even deliberately speeding up his walking to make his flaws more pronounced, to show that he wasn't bothered. But in the past year or two, he couldn't do that anymore. He felt that his feet were connected to an invisible whirlpool, a force that was gradually twisting and eroding his body. He secretly began researching mobility aids for his leg disability, but he didn't need those around him to remind him of his physical Shawltcomings.
Some people wouldn't let Lindy have his way. Nehari was sitting on a warhorse, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, evidently not planning to leave immediately. Unable to avoid the path, Lindy had no choice but to lift his head and quicken his pace. The closer he got to the warhorse, with its leg muscles suggesting both curvature beauty and explosive power, the faster his heartbeat became. Many years ago, it was just such a horse that had thrown him off, resulting in a body he could barely face.
"Bishop Lindy," Nehari said. "Where are you headed?"
"Home."
"Don't you need an escort?"
"I'm used to it. Calling a carriage is enough."
"I know you always prefer coming and going freely. But the city is very unsafe right now."
"I trust the Stormwind guards. You just returned from the Plaguelands; you wouldn't know this place better than I do."
"That's true. For instance, I never would have thought that as a bishop, you would have formed such a close connection with the people of the MI7. They are the farthest from the teachings of the Holy Light."
"You've always had military cooperation with the MI7 too. If there's nothing important, I'll be leaving now."
Without waiting for Niehri's response, Lindy walked past the horse. The warhorse shook its mane, and Lindy involuntarily closed his left eye briefly. His heartbeat hadn't calmed down yet.
"Please be careful, Bishop Lindy," Niehri's voice came from behind. "We are at a crucial historical moment. The Holy Light will surely guide us on the only correct path, and we must respond to it with the most devout faith."
As a bishop, Lindy agreed with Niehri's words, but he knew that his secular side was under threat.
In the carriage, Lindy recalled the brief meeting from the day before. Strictly speaking, it was a joint inquiry he and Jorgen conducted on Nehari. Benedictus had likely contracted the illness while in the Plaguelands, only showing symptoms after returning to Stormwind. Thus, Lindy investigated from a medical perspective, and Jorgen from a security perspective, to see if there was any negligence on Niehri's part. This was informal, with no records left, because the church faced a dilemma: Benedictus must have carefully chosen the three candidates, and publicly investigating Nehari at this sensitive time would affect the reputation of Benedictus, now a saint. Another fact was that the cause of the archbishop's illness had not been determined, so there was no solid basis to question Nehari. It was like facing a maze with no exit, and the only reasonable response was to stay outside the door for the time being.
During the brief inquiry, Nehari barely concealed his hostility towards Jorgen. Perhaps because he understood there was no need to pretend in front of Jozen's keen observation; perhaps he decided to openly state his opposition to the MI7. Meanwhile, Lindy felt there was no need for him to be involved since he wasn't the one treating the archbishop—the royal physicians at Stormwind Keep were—and he still hadn't obtained all the information from the treatment process.
Lindy regretted not being able to contribute. He believed that Nehari, for different reasons, must also harbor some remorse. Thinking of this commonality made him less resentful of Niehri's penchant for flaunting his military prowess. But of course, he was still afraid of that warhorse.
Upon returning to his residence, the butler informed him that Jorgen had come to visit. This made Lindy somewhat worried but also a bit expectant, as he urgently needed to see someone who had once beaten Nehari. He quickly went to the reception room.
"Lindy," Jorgen, sitting on the sofa, said, "Has Hylan shown up?"
"No." Lindy sat down, poured himself a cup of tea, and only after finishing it did he continue. "I very, very much want to see Bishop Hylan. The last time I saw him was probably about eight months ago. He invited me for tea and showed me some of his recent manuscripts. It was a wonderful afternoon. Compared to the tea Bishop Hylan makes, this stuff..." He looked at the bottom of the cup with some residue left, then placed it back on the table.
"For someone in the church, is it that difficult to see him?"
"Don't even think about disturbing him, Jorgen. It's impossible. Moreover, Bishop Hylan is conducting research that is much deeper and more important than before. Even as a bishop, I cannot endorse your private visit..."
"Alright. Let's talk about more important matters. What did Benedictus' will say?"
Today, under the supervision of the royal notary, the Archbishop's will was publicly read for the first time in front of a few high-ranking church members. Lindy slightly lowered his head, his right hand reaching into the sleeve of his left arm, scratching near his wrist. He mustered the resolve to look Jorgen in the eye but quickly averted his gaze again.
"Jorgen, I don't think it's appropriate. I did not promise to tell you these things. Because, as you know, this is internal..."
"I want to help you, Lindy. If the will affects the situation, then we need to respond as soon as possible."
"Respond... respond to what?"
"Assist you in becoming the next Archbishop. To surpass Hylan and Nehari."
"Don't use the word 'surpass.' It makes me uncomfortable."
"Fine, we won't mention it. Just focus on you. To become the next Archbishop, you must act quickly."
"I still think it's inappropriate to discuss this. I just listened to the Archbishop's will; it felt like experiencing his funeral all over again."
"I don't know about Hylan's situation, but Nehari must have already taken action. It was clear from that day's inquiry. Even as the most controversial candidate, he is prepared. If you keep wandering around aimlessly and wasting time, I can't help you."
"I never asked for your help. Perhaps this was never related to the MI7, Jorgen. Isn't that how it should be? Church matters shouldn't be handled by someone without faith."
Jorgen didn't answer immediately, leaning back slightly. Lindy rubbed his eyebrows with his left hand and sighed.
"That doesn't sound like you, Lindy. A few years ago, I didn't have faith in the Holy Light, and I still don't today. This shouldn't make a difference to you. Let me be frank, back then, I was more frequently harming others in my work than I am now. Even in those circumstances, you were willing to help me, and over the years, your help hasn't stopped. I intend to repay you with this best opportunity. Moreover, you yourself hope to become Archbishop. Otherwise, you should have declined Benedictus' nomination in the first place."
"That was in the past. Now, the situation has changed."
"Some situations have indeed changed. For instance, Nehari is now targeting you because of our cooperation. Even without this, you should agree that someone like him is not fit to be Archbishop. As for Hylan's stance, I don't know for now, but some things haven't changed. For example, the principle of the Pope's infallibility in interpreting doctrine."
"You've heard of that?"
"Don't forget, I might be the person outside the church who interacted with Benedictus the most. The Archbishop's interpretations of doctrine are considered infallible as long as no contradictions can be found in the scriptures. This is one of the fundamental principles of acknowledging the status of the Holy Light's representative. Someone like Nehari, who is overly enthusiastic about military force, should not be granted this right. And you, wishing for it, should obtain it. I know that according to existing doctrines, there are some medical taboos. Everyone has a tendency to believe in the Holy Light because somewhere deep within them lies the seed of the Holy Light, and these seeds can be contaminated by drugs, surgical knives, and the blood of others. I know you wish to eliminate these taboos. After all, if they never existed, perhaps you could have cured Benedictus."
Lindy held his head in his hands, rubbing his temples with his palms.
"Saying such things to a bishop is very excessive, Jorgen," Lindy said without looking up. "These taboos were formed through Archbishop Benedictus' interpretations. You are disturbing my thoughts... trying to undermine my respect for him."
"We've known each other for several years. I only focus on the facts; this shouldn't need repeating..."
"Enough," Lindy interrupted Jorgen. "Let me think it over."
Jorgen did not respond. He simply watched the tormented clergyman before him. When they first met, Lindy was far more worldly. Perhaps Benedictus' death had shaken him, or maybe he was inherently unsuited to competing with others, leaving him with only some residual self-defense mechanisms, which made him even more vulnerable. Admitting he needed to become Archbishop was too difficult for him in his current fragile state; it was like a spiderweb had appeared on his path. Although he could easily break through, he still found it hard to overcome the disgust of touching the threads with his hands.
"I understand. Anyway, the contents of the will will inevitably be made public to some extent. After all, the last words of the Holy Light's representative are also his final eulogy," Lindy said, lifting his head and running his hand through his hair. "There is a part of it I do want to ask your opinion on... it involves you, Jorgen."
"Go ahead."
"First, the will is divided into two parts. The first part mainly deals with the distribution of the Archbishop's personal assets, advice, and arrangements for church work... that sort of thing. This part does not involve the election of the next Archbishop."
"And what about the second part?"
"The second part..." Lindy paused before continuing. "It's a small locked box, small enough to hold with one hand. I don't know what's inside. At the end of the first part of the will, the Archbishop mentioned that only one person is qualified to open it: Bossia Wislanzo. If she does not return to Stormwind to fulfill her duty within twenty years, the box must be destroyed."