Chapter 508: The Gods
TL: Rui88
“Marshal MacDonald, what are your views on things like mythology?”
Aldridge suddenly posed this question.
MacDonald was taken aback for a moment, not understanding why Aldridge would ask such a thing.
What the devil, was he trying to have an academic discussion with him? He wasn’t a scholar from the Scholars’ Tower.
“Hmm? Did you two great scholars call this old soldier over just to make a fool of me?”
The old marshal spoke in a complaining tone.
He picked up the teacup from the table, blew the tea leaves floating on the surface away in one puff, and took a small sip.
A bitter yet fragrant sensation spread through his mouth.
“All my life, I’ve been focused on how to lead troops and fight wars. Mythology? I heard my mother tell stories when I refused to sleep as a child, I’ve heard the choir sing of them during service at church, and perhaps I’ll tell them to my grandchildren when I’m bored. But if you ask for my views, what views could I possibly have? All I can do is listen to what others say, and then repeat it to others.”“I know there are some scholars or theologians who specialise in this. Perhaps you should have called on those professional colleagues of yours.”
The old marshal grumbled on. Finding the tea in his cup was no longer piping hot, he drank it down in several large gulps, as if it were wine.
“Marshal MacDonald.”
Arvis stroked his beard and laughed. “In that case, do you believe the stories in the myths actually happened?”
“Ah?” MacDonald was very puzzled.
These scholars!
“I can only give a clever answer and say that some of it happened, and some of it was fabricated or exaggerated, surely? Isn’t it your job as scholars to uncover the truth of these things? Why are you asking me?”
Aldridge said, “Alright, let us touch on a more sensitive topic.”
Was this it? MacDonald grew serious again.
“What are your thoughts on the Lord of Light and the Church?”
MacDonald frowned as he thought, considering both the question itself and Aldridge’s motive for asking it.
The two scholars did not press him for an answer, waiting quietly.
After a long while, he finally spoke slowly, “I can only tell you both this: I believe in the gods, and I revere them. I feel that behind this world, there is indeed a great existence that governs all. He is both omniscient and omnipotent, but…”
Here, the old marshal paused, clearly hesitating over whether to say what came next.
“Oh, Marshal MacDonald, please speak freely. Your words will go no further than our ears.”
Arvis gave him his assurance.
MacDonald let out a soft sigh and continued, “Very well. With my limited intellect, my views may be mistaken. Our god…”
The old marshal stopped again, his hands gesturing erratically, as if he could not find the right words to continue expressing his point of view.
“According to the Church, our god should be a being beyond ‘form,’ or at least beyond the material world as we perceive it. In my view, then, He is a concept, a set of rules, a spirit that does not rely on a physical body. I believe the gap between a being as great as a god and us mortals is vaster than the gap between us mortals and ants. We and the ants at least both belong to a material existence. But… do we care how a colony of ants lives? Do we care if the ants make mistakes? Do we care if the ants are suffering? Do we care if the ants need our help? Yet the description of God in the holy scriptures… if humans make a mistake, He punishes them; if humans behave well, He rewards them; if humans encounter difficulties, He helps them. The god in the scriptures is almost like a doting old mother… ahem, Father in Heaven, please forgive my improper choice of words… He is like a stern yet enthusiastic patriarch, watching over humanity.”
Marshal MacDonald’s words made both Aldridge and Arvis’s eyes widen. They had not expected such a speech to come from the mouth of a general who led armies into battle.
MacDonald saw their reaction, but did not interpret their surprise as shock at his heresy.
“These are just a few of my shallow thoughts.”
He showed a rare expression of bashfulness, hastily raising his tea to hide it.
After all, he was in the presence of scholars renowned throughout the Empire.
Just then, Aldridge began to clap his hands. He smiled and said, “A most interesting view, Marshal MacDonald.”
Arvis also said, “You need not worry at all. In fact, we… also hold similar questions.”
“Oh…” MacDonald felt relieved.
Arvis said in a low voice, “The reason we asked you this was because we were concerned about your attitude towards the Church.”
MacDonald said without hesitation, “Then I shall reply to you both in kind; you need not worry. My loyalty to the Empire and to Prince Antonio comes before my religious convictions.”
“Besides…”
He paused for a moment, but ultimately chose to continue, “Given my thoughts on God, I do not believe that an organisation made up of mortals can fully represent His will.”
“Your reason and loyalty are truly impressive, Marshal MacDonald.”
Arvis’s eyes were full of admiration.
“Now let us return our topic to the content of the myths themselves…”
…
General Simon Fedotov of Collins stared, dumbfounded, at the defeated remnants before him.
“Three thousand men, a full three thousand, and only these few hundred of you returned?”
He roared in fury at the subordinate responsible for commanding the vanguard.
Just as he had been leading the main army towards Hydra with high hopes, he had run into his fleeing vanguard on the road.
They had actually been defeated! This shocked Fedotov immensely.
The commander of the vanguard was also among the routed soldiers. The poor fellow’s name was Harper, and just like the army he commanded, he was in a very sorry state.
Harper’s cheeks were swollen high, a torn piece of cloth was wrapped around his head from which crimson blood seeped, and his left eye looked as if it had taken a solid punch. The eye socket and the area around it were covered in purple bruises; from a distance, he looked like a pig’s head.
Fedotov was furious. The fact that the men of Eton had not finished the fellow off, but had instead chosen to beat him into this state and send him back, was a blatant humiliation.
Fedotov viciously grabbed Harper by the collar. “What in the world happened? How did you end up like this?”
Harper burst into tears, utterly disgraced.
“General, you must avenge us. We… we…”
“Speak!”
“We were attacked by hordes of wizards.”
“Wizards? Harper! Are you jesting with me? Or are you just making excuses for your defeat?”
“I am not deceiving you!” Harper fell to his knees with a thud.
“All of my surviving men can attest to it!”