Holy Light Cathedral. Nehari stood in the prominent position where Benedictus had presided over countless ceremonies, his hands gripping the edges of the podium, trying to feel the collective silence of the hundreds waiting for him to speak. This process lasted about ten seconds. He was not satisfied with the result. This was not the Western Plaguelands; it was not the atmosphere he experienced before giving orders to an entire row of soldiers. The audience here and now contained impurities. These impurities stemmed not only from their identities but also from their purposes. Overbearing curiosity, restless anxiety, and fragmented attention floated about; the white arches of the cathedral, which should have spread solemnity, could not suppress them. Clergy, soldiers, a small number of nobles, and even fewer personnel from other institutions—including, in his view, the Seventh Agency members who should no longer be responsible for official duties—were among the audience. Nehari did not demand personal trust from these listeners. He never aspired to nor pursued the charm that made others involuntarily surround him. His requirement was that the audience should display an attitude befitting the speaker's identity. The response he received: since returning to Stormwind, he had been facing suspicion. These suspicions caused many to no longer see Nehari himself but to stare at his reflection in the water. In that reflection, his body was Shawltened and twisted with water ripples, each twist representing a question in the listeners' minds: After the Archbishop's inspection of the Western Plaguelands, he fell ill. What exactly did Nehari do? Did he neglect his duties? If he bears any responsibility for the Archbishop's death, how is he qualified to be a candidate?
He moved his bandaged right thumb closer to his palm, ensuring no one could see.
"As we all know, Archbishop Benedictus was a great and noble missionary leader. Thousands, whether Holy Light followers or outsiders, whether nationals or foreign seekers, benefited spiritually from his teachings, allowing them to view and treat their faith and life more profoundly; naturally, I am one such beneficiary. Although I have been a follower of the Holy Light since birth, it was only after hearing the Archbishop's teachings that I truly found the right path to fully devote myself to the faith."
Nehari understood that a considerable portion of the audience would consider this just a conventional personal statement after the Archbishop's death, but he believed these words were sincere and hoped some listeners would understand the faith-supported authenticity behind them. As long as one person was willing to listen, he had to say it.
"The Archbishop's death is undoubtedly a great loss to the Holy Light and the people, especially occurring at this particular time..."
At this point, Nehari paused. These were genuine clichés, devoid of anything he wanted to express from a personal perspective. These planned sentences were just a necessary transition, but he could no longer tolerate himself. The pain in his right thumb kept alerting him. The audience clearly felt the emptiness in his words, with a lazy, disinterested atmosphere rising like water about to boil. Three seconds, five seconds, everyone sensed the pause was too long. Nehari had to get to the point, or he would disappoint himself.
"Before falling ill, the Archbishop inspected the military-controlled area of the Plaguelands under my management. He fell ill after returning to Stormwind and reportedly showed symptoms on the way back. This is an indisputable fact: I witnessed the Archbishop's transition from health to illness. As the commander of the Western Plaguelands, I was fully responsible for the Archbishop's safety during his inspection. This included preventing attacks and ensuring his health."
Nehari couldn't help but pause. This was entirely for himself, not to capture the audience's reaction, but he quickly felt the change in atmosphere. He had already said many words the audience wanted to hear; now, they would further demand answers to their inner questions. Nehari did not intend to change his plan for any listener. He was here to express his stance and a few emotions rarely shown publicly.
"Another fact: I have undergone multiple investigations on whether this work was done satisfactorily, and the final result is that I did not neglect my duties. Therefore, according to the Archbishop's wishes, I became one of the candidates for the next Archbishop—"
As expected, the audience began to stir; they were already judging before hearing the next content. Nehari understood that his words at this moment sounded like completely self-centered assertions, bordering on provocation. He couldn't stop. He had to finish, overturning the verdict imposed on him.
"I do not need to be punished for the Archbishop's illness; this is a joint decision of the Church and the council. But, this is not my decision. As a follower of the Holy Light, one must understand that some immensely significant responsibilities, once shouldered, must be steadfastly carried, never letting them fall. The personal effort is irrelevant; only the result matters. Once negligent, no words can justify it, just as a dead soldier has no chance to find excuses for himself. Among the few facts I previously mentioned, only one is truly important: the Archbishop fell gravely ill after leaving my jurisdiction in the Western Plaguelands, ultimately leading to his death. This is a sin I must bear."
Two nights ago, Nehari had truly admitted this to himself. It was like a cunning, bizarre wound that could move around inside and outside his body; each time Nehari tried to pinpoint it due to the pain, it would hide deep within his skin. At that time, he sat alone in his study, gazing at the edge of the cathedral obscured by other buildings in the distance, recalling his experiences in the Western Plaguelands. The Archbishop's inspection was unexpected, but he believed he had prepared sufficiently. The Archbishop before him seemed to have changed; thinking so might be offensive, but Nehari felt the Archbishop had gained unprecedented steadiness and wisdom. Long-term command of the corrupt, chaotic Western Plaguelands and his inherent overconfidence led Nehari to doubt Benedictus at some point. However, during the inspection, all his doubts vanished. The Archbishop extended his hand to wounded soldiers, prayed for the dying, and showed compassion for the corrupted land—these actions were genuine, as if... as if he knew his time was Shawlt... no. It should be said that death had lost its worrisome value to the Archbishop. Such a person died Shawltly after. There must be something I overlooked. There must be something I should have done but didn't. There must be...
This is a sin I must bear. These words were never truly spoken; another Nehari, truly belonging to faith—at least he acknowledged this entity's existence—narrated it to his physical self word by word. He immediately knelt down, driven by an incomprehensible impulse, and snapped his right thumb. He never pursued self-torture in the name of faith, but he felt compelled to do so, perhaps because without a functioning thumb, he couldn't wield his war hammer; he wanted to punish his combative side, the very side that had led him to slacken in his faith.
He continued speaking.
"Initially, becoming a candidate was the highest honor for me, especially as it was first suggested by the Archbishop himself. But now, the most important thing is how to atone for my sins because this concerns not only myself but also the Archbishop's trust in me—trust that I have betrayed, stained with dust. I bear a title known to all: 'The Hammer-Wielding Bishop.' This once filled me with immense pride in my military achievements, but now I realize it has no place in faith. I have held this title for many years, unaware that it foreshadowed the sin I must bear today. I remember the Archbishop once said: 'Do not seek glory or any dazzling thing before cleansing your sins through faith.' The candidacy for the next Archbishop is a glory I should not seek. Here and now, I announce: Nehari Charlostu officially withdraws from the candidacy for the next Archbishop."
The audience began to truly stir. Nehari believed no one anticipated such a statement from him. He gestured for silence. It worked effectively; most stopped talking and expressing excitement. Nehari found it ironic that he seemed to gain more authority after announcing the relinquishment of a position of power. He had to finish speaking.
"Withdrawing from the candidacy does not mean I will give up on the matter of the next Archbishop. This is too important, and I believe every believer should contribute to ensuring that a worthy person continues Archbishop Benedictus's work. This concerns faith, the nation, and all of us. After difficult contemplation supported by faith, I have decided that after withdrawing, I will fully support Bishop Hylan Ludwig as the next representative of the Holy Light."
Hylan was not present. Nehari did not need to wait for the spread of news. This announcement and Hylan's absence were predetermined. Nehari sought atonement, believing he had forfeited his qualification as a candidate, which partly motivated this decision. He couldn't allow Lindy, close to the Seventh Agency, to become Archbishop. Over time, Nehari's reasonable admiration for Hylan's scholarly seclusion and studies, his speeches on frugality, and fasting actions weren't the core reasons for their collaboration. The crucial reason was that Hylan had unearthed a secret capable of completely burying the Seventh Agency, a secret yet to be revealed to the public.
New questions arose among the listeners. What the hundreds present knew would soon shake all of Stormwind. Nehari raised his head, straightened his back as he always did after a war mobilization speech. He had to set aside the war hammer temporarily because he had a more critical battle to join. Whether this path led to the atonement he needed, he did not yet need to consider.