The Greatest Sin [Progression Fantasy][Kingdom Building]
Chapter 283 – Peacekeeping Colleges of Magic

Neneria has never stood for anything. Neneria has never chosen a side in any major conflict before. It is not that she rejected humanity, rather humanity rejected her. There were times she was called upon, of course, but it was never in the same fashion that Iniri or Helenna or Kassandora, Allasaria or Irinika would be invited to attend great celebrations that marked some important date. One called upon Death because a transaction needed to be made, it was as easy and as simple as that.

Neneria was in disbelief when I approached her. She could not comprehend the fact that rather than her skill, she herself was valuable. I’ve met plenty of depressed Divines, that is the fate of most of us who are unable to develop some form of sociopathy and move past the relationships we make in the first century, before we realise the price of agelessness amongst mortals. Death always had a reputation of being morose, yet I saw something else: Neneria was resigned to her role. She wished for something more, but she simply could not imagine ever accomplishing it.

Frequently, a comparison is made between Olephia and Neneria. Spending even a conversation with both will reveal the mistake in that comparison. Olephia does not hate her power even though it is far more debilitating to her than Of Death’s is to Neneria. Olephia would be Olephia whether she was the Goddess of Light, of Dirt or just a mortal. Neneria cannot separate herself from her demesne. Of Death is Neneria, Neneria is Of Death.

I wish she realised that there was a person behind the title.

- Excerpt from Arascus’ Private Writings.

Elassa cracked Arika and Arcadia stood still in disbelief. Arcadia retreated in fear. Arcadia shrunk in shame. Arcadia sobbed in guilt. Leadership-less and unguided, Arcadia stood in stasis. First the last college of Magic had been attacked by Fer, thousands had died in that offensive. Anassa had been freed, the Goddess of Sorcery doubled the number of dead alone. Elassa had instituted replaced the White and Blue flag of harmonic peace and raised the Red and Purple of Worldbreaking. Arcadia had followed its Goddess to Kirinyaa, its Goddess had carelessly broken the world once, then cracked a continent next. And even though Arcadia had done neither of those, Arcadia’s headmistress was Elassa. The shame of one mage did not fall on other magicians, yet the shame of the Goddess of Magic fell upon all.

And Arcadia had fled. Gone were glorious embassies of foreign nations, now they were merely empty buildings. The Great Hall used for enrolling novices was empty. Allasaria had visited it two years ago, even at night, the building had been bustling with life with every window fighting a rabid war to keep the night back. Now, during the midday, there were a dozen people near the steps leading up to the main gate.

This past year had been dark for the Pantheon. Allasaria could not deny it, yet she also could not deny what the Pantheon was. Fortia was the hammer of Peace, who would smite the will to war out of all. Maisara was the vice of Order, who would bend and break everyone and everything to fit into her ideals. The Forces had about as much issue with death as their counterparts in nature; why should Zerus ever worry about mortals dying? Did the sky feel bad for its thunderstorms? And Allasaria, whose Divine light cast a long shadow over the fields of bodies she had under her belt. The White Pantheon was old and it was filled with veterans of wars.

No. Arcadia was not the White Pantheon. They could not be compared in the slightest. When Atis had been lost, the Pantheon had a meeting and kept marching forwards. When Kassandora had been freed, when Kavaa, Iniri and Helenna had turned traitor, the Pantheon had a meeting and continued its march. When the Pantheon was reduced to half strength, the march only got faster. Arcadia had been attacked once and it wept. Arcadia lost in Kirinyaa, and it retreated from the world the at large. A mere scratch had chased the dragon away.

Allasaria hovered across the skies of Arcadia as she looked at all the different winding towers snaking from the ground like ancient trees that had been grown of brick and mortar. Each branch was a balcony, each leaf a window. And the huge dorm-rooms and halls, massive hedges of stone webbed with glass. From the outside, they looked as any picture or painting of Arcadia: great puzzle pieces of civilization neatly interlocking with the fine rolling hills and emerald grass and azure lakes. Yet any eye familiar with Arcadia proper would see the mistakes immediately. Only a few a classes were being held, the majority of the parks and gardens were devoid of any human activity and the students sullenly wandered as if they were had no particularly pressing aims during the midday.

And there was something new too, where a park had once stood. Allasaria had to get close to inspect whether her eyes were lying to her or not. The Goddess of Light descended from the ever-cloudless blue skies of Arcadia, her white-gold dress and hair waving gently in the wind as she got closer to the monument. It was a stone statue of several wizards and witches, young and old, all holding their wands in the same direction. A model of several dorm-rooms was behind them and a plaque: Dedicated to those who gave their lives in exchange for ours.

And below the plaque, a list of names.

A long list of names, as long as Allasaria was tall. It covered the entire base of the monument.

Allasaria knelt and whispered a prayer.

“I’m bored, do you want to do Epa now?” Helenna had two opinions of Malam’s high-pitched, nasally, yet simultaneously rolling and delicate voice: It was as if her ears being forced to listen to nails on a chalkboard, and as if auditory ambrosia was being fed directly into them.

“Arascus allows you to switch jobs just like this?”

Malam shrugged. “We’re done on the UNN for now. It’s just waiting for the initial reports. We might as well get something useful done on Iliyal’s front.”

“Ah.” Helenna said. She leaned back into her seat and looked up at the ceiling, humming to herself. She heard that hum, and she realised she was smiling. She had thought that she would be utterly incompatible with Malam. But she had been wrong and the other woman was right: Love and Hate really were two sides of the same obsessive coin.

Allasaria sat in what once was Elassa’s council room. She had gathered the elites of Arcadia, great wizards and witches and waited for them to slowly shuffle and sit. The flags around the room were the Red and Purple of the three lightning bolts cracking the world: Elassa’s ancient war banner. Only a few of the magicians could even stomach to look at the banners. “Hello and good evening ladies and gentlemen.” Allasaria said, she supposed they knew who she was already, but she supposed she should introduce herself for the sake of politeness. “I am Allasaria, Goddess of Light, First Amongst the White Pantheon.”

The wizards and witches and slowly introduced themselves. At least forty had shown up: Dorm-masters, Heads of Years, Heads of Subjects, Heads of Elements. The room was only half full as they sat around the table. A few left spaces between themselves. One group, primarily pyromancers in red shawls, positioned themselves close to the warbanners. The rest as far as possible from them. “I have come to discuss your Goddess, Elassa, of Magic.” Allasaria said. She monitored the changes in expression, a few looked away in disgust, some more looked down in shame. That group near the warbanners met Allasaria’s gaze in defiance. “Let me begin.” Allasaria said.

“The situation, as it stand right now, is terrible. Deaths only in the UNN measure sixty million. There’s still another one to four million people unaccounted for. In the other coastlines, we only have estimates but worldwide…” Allasaria let the silence hold for a moment to build effect. “We’re looking at anywhere from two hundred to four hundred million.”

There were a few collective gasps. One woman started silently crying. One man looked as if he was about to faint. In addition to that guilt and shame and defiance, there was a need emotion added to the stew of magicians: fear. Allasaria didn’t want them to be afraid of her, but a little of fear went a long way in discussions. “Elassa, as I’m sure you already know, has been formally expelled from the White Pantheon.” Allasaria let the pause hang to once again gauge reaction. They knew although it had not been publicized too widely yet. So someone inside had ratted. “Where Elassa is, we do not know, however we expect her to be taking refuge in Arascus’ care.”

This brought on a stronger reaction. More gasps. More sobs. The defiance turned into anger. Allasaria met those gazes and realised it wasn’t anger at Elassa. It was anger at Allasaria for being here. The Goddess pushed the magicians out of her mind, let them rage if they wanted to. “Naturally, this leaves Arcadia in a delicate situation.” Allasaria sighed and looked around. “I assume you can work out what it is.”

“Arcadia is going to lose Pantheon support?” One aged wizard in a blue cloak spoke up from the back.

Allasaria nodded. “Arcadia is not self-sustaining, everything you have here is paid for by Pantheon coffers. What Elassa did needs to be answered, the Pantheon cannot stand by her anymore. Yet Arcadia cannot be separated from Elassa.”

“So the Pantheon is cutting support?” One witch in green asked. Allasaria nodded. She let them work it out themselves, people were always more agreeing when they felt as if they made the conclusions.

And now, she would take a page out of Arascus’ book: There was no better chain than the self-inflicted feeling of debt that forgiveness brought along. “However, whereas Elassa is guilty, you are not.”

Apart from those who had huddled between Elassa’s war-banners, the room let out a collective sigh of relief. People sat up taller, one man finished his glass of water. A few in the back even let out mirthless laughs of stress. “In this regard, I do not see it right to punish any of you for Elassa has done.” Allasaria said, that was enough hope for them, it was time to turn the pressure up. “However, as I stated, Elassa is tied to Arcadia, this institution expelling her is farcical. It’s simply not an option.”

It was an option, but it would leave the mages with the old loyalties to this ancient school and to this world of traditional magic. Allasaria took a pause to look around the room, but it was actually to contain her own excitement. Finally, after thousands of years, she would do something no other awe-inspiring deity or magnificent mortal ruler had ever accomplished: She would separate the Magicians from the Goddess of Magic. Allasaria began:

Step one; mercy. “In this regard, Arcadia will not be shut down, but Pantheon support will be cut. What you do in this land is your own choice.”

Step two; pressure. “I do not know how long you will be able to sustain this land, and likewise I do not know how successful you will be in restoring Arcadia’s glory now that Elassa had tainted its image with her massacre of a quarter billion.”

Step three; hope. “However, I am of the White Pantheon. The Mages were always supportive of Olympiada, I see no reason to abandon you just because your Goddess has betrayed you. If anything, it is my debt to pay to you.”

Step four; salvation.  “So whereas I will not shut Arcadia down, I will officially create the new Peacekeeping Colleges of Magic soon, under White Pantheon jurisdiction. It would cleanse all of you of Elassa’s crime and it would allow the Divine Mountain to once again openly support the artistry of magic.

And step five; bargaining. “I do not plan on creating something akin to Arcadia again, instead I want smaller decentralized colleges all throughout the world that specialize in one or two subjects. I would need assistance in creating these institutions, and I would expect that assistance in management to be from you. With all the privileges that come with it.”

Allasaria looked at the various sets of eyes and gazes in the room. She had written off the group congregating around the war-banner already, but the others? It was true that all magicians were like Elassa to some degree, she could see the delusions of grandeur openly painting themselves on their faces.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.