Chapter 89

“Of course they should be exiled from the community!”

“No, exile seems too harsh. We should choose a suitable punishment…”

“But is it right to punish them so severely when we have no established laws for this?”

“Are you saying we should just let them be? After they committed an act of irreverence against the Apostles and Sir Nemo?”

“Well… that is true, but…”

I hadn’t even stepped off the ship yet, but the crowd that had gathered was already a storm of murmuring voices. They were bickering amongst themselves about how to deal with these ‘heretics.’

For my part, I kept my mouth shut.

I didn’t utter a single word.

My instincts, my entire being, were screaming at me. One wrong word here, and it’s all over.

“What is the meaning of this! Sir Nemo has returned, yet instead of welcoming him with all your hearts, you sow division and disturb his peace!”

…Good job, Raleigh. You’re handling this very well.

Only after the atmosphere had somewhat subsided were we able to cross the gangway and properly disembark. I finally set foot on what felt like my home soil, but…

“…”

“…”

“…”

My heart was anything but at ease. Anyone would feel the same with tens of thousands of eyes fixed solely on them.

“…So what happens to those traitors? Heretics? Whatever they are.”

“They’ll be punished, obviously! The question is how…”

“I heard some people suggesting exile. Think it’ll go that far?”

“Well, they defied the Apostles’ word, so they’re heretics. And if they’re heretics, we can’t just let them off with something as light as exile, can we?”

I could hear them all, whispering while furtively glancing at one another. At this rate, it would be better if they just said it all out loud…

Among the murmurs, one was particularly unsettling.

“Those guys aren’t just traitors, they’re heretics. Should we be preparing the firewood…?”

“How are we supposed to reform those unbelievers?”

Heretic, unbeliever, heretic, unbeliever, heretic, unbeliever…

The ominous words kept coming.

The logic started with, ‘They rebelled against the community, so they are traitors.’ Then, based on the premise that ‘this community is the Lord’s community,’ it arrived at the conclusion, ‘Therefore, they are traitors to the Lord.’

Traitors to the Lord. In two syllables, ‘heretic.’ In three, ‘unbeliever.’

That seamless, well-oiled logic grated on my ears. Worse, everyone was nodding in agreement with its impeccable reasoning, tangling my own thoughts into knots.

That’s right. The issue wasn’t whether to punish them or not. They had stolen weapons and committed all sorts of acts; of course, they had to be punished.

The problem was how to punish them.

For me, there were several non-negotiable premises.

‘Nemo (Kim Lee-sang) is an agent of God, sent to Earth to carry out His commands.’ …Right. That’s what I had already told the ‘Apostles’ and the people.

‘Nemo is the leader of the Virginia Community.’ I couldn’t let go of this one either. The community protected me from external threats, and this strange society was held together precisely because I was its leader.

‘Nemo, following God’s command, has established a doctrine and a denomination.’ This was also essential. If I, claiming to be an angel, established new doctrines without a divine mandate, that would make me a heretic… no, just the leader of a cult.¹

Let’s re-examine these premises from the perspective of the Virginia residents.

1- Nemo descended from Heaven, bearing the will of the Lord.

2- He established the Virginia Community and governs it with his Apostles.

3- He has spread a new doctrine throughout the community.

From these points, a very natural conclusion is drawn: ‘Ah, the Virginia Community is a sacred community established by the Lord!’

Yes! This was the biggest problem!

There was no separation of church and state in this community. Because it was convenient, I had given the so-called ‘Apostles’ administrative duties and religious authority without ever separating the two, and Virginia had become a theocracy!

Of course, one couldn’t say this was entirely ‘wrong.’ According to the catalog, many of the early American pioneers had come over for religious reasons. Because of that, a significant number of their communities were said to have formed theocratic societies, so historically, this wasn’t a major deviation.

…The problem was that, in this structure, my will becomes the will of the community, and the will of the community becomes the will of God.

At first glance, this seems wonderfully autocratic and convenient. To be able to frame everything I do as the will of God! Truly, Sir Nemo is the absolute ruler of the New World! One could think that.

But look at it the other way.

If my will is God’s will… then God’s will must be my will.

If people perceive any inconsistency in my words, or if my conduct is not sufficiently ‘divine’… the very foundations of this community will be shaken.

…Of course, that’s unlikely to happen easily. For the most part, people will follow my words. But that prospect is terrifying in its own right. A closed society that accepts its leader’s words as the will of God? I’ve seen that story many times in the newspaper’s society section.

That’s right. The moment I condemn Oitohtan and his bumbling, blundering friends as heretics, this community will be faced with a hellish choice between two paths: ruin or a cult. I could never choose that path.

But if I don’t punish them as heretics here and now? Then I would have to overturn the belief held by the majority of the community—that ‘the Virginia Community is a sacred community established by the Lord!’

And what would happen then? This community would become one established by an angel on his own whim, separate from the will of the Lord.

That’s right. The entire community could become heretical. And would the Europeans in this community want to remain part of this ‘heresy’?

Oh. I can almost see the pyre before my eyes. From the perspective of the Old World, we’re probably heretical enough as it is.

So, whether I punish Oitohtan, who is currently trembling beside me, as a heretic or not, either choice carries an absurd amount of risk.

“Sir Nemo, what are your thoughts? Are they not heretics? If they are, what punishment should…”

That’s why I’m telling you not to ask me.

“You! Is sorting out such petty squabbles more important to you? Or is welcoming Sir Nemo, who has endured such hardship, more important?”

Thankfully, Raleigh was handling it well, but… I couldn’t show even a hint of hesitation here. I must always be prepared to give the right answer without a moment’s pause.

Because I am an angel.

Raleigh was chastising the man who had asked about punishing the heretics. I lowered Raleigh’s arm as he jabbed his finger at the man and said, “Thank you for your concern for me, Walter. But would you please step aside for a moment?”

“You do not need to waste your time, my lord.”

“No, it’s all right. Doesn’t this man also have the right to ask me a question?”

I slowly walked toward the man. As I moved, the crowd parted on either side, leaving nothing between him and me.

“I…”

Thud.

“I humbly wish to ask your opinion…”

Thud. Thud.

“…Uh, uhh.”

“…”

Without a word, just a smile on my face, I approached him until I was right beside him. The nutritional standards and height of people 400 years in the future fundamentally overwhelm those of this era. As I stood silently before him, the man fell quiet, simply staring up at me blankly.

Only then did I speak.

“You are… Mr. Hardy, was it? From England.”

“Y-yes, that’s right! Now, about those heretics…”

“And a member of the council.”

“…That’s right, isn’t it?”

“In that case, the answer to your question…” I raised my hand and pointed toward the distant council hall. “I will give you at next week’s council meeting. Is the council not the place we created to mediate conflicts and establish rules? If we do not abide by our own rules, what makes us different from beasts?”

“…Ah, ah, I understand.”

“Very good, Mr. Hardy.” I patted the man’s shoulder. “At the council, I will make my will known.”

Hardy nodded, his body tense.

With a face that I hoped looked as composed as possible, I walked toward my lodgings in Chesapeake. I could feel everyone’s eyes silently following my back.

…Ugh, I’m so nervous I think I’m going to puke.

***

James Hardy was an ordinary middle-class man from England. Not quite what you would call gentry, just a commoner who was reasonably well-off. His life was turned completely upside down when he saw an announcement from the Virginia Trading Company.

—‘Recruiting Pioneers for the New World’

—“Th-they’re giving away fifty acres of land…?” 

—“If we both go, that’s a hundred acres! Darling… we can have a good life!”

If he went there, he too could live in prosperity! In a New World, free from being trampled under the feet of noble lords! And in the New World he arrived in…

—“L-look, a man was stabbed and came back to life!” 

—“He’s… he’s not a man! He’s an angel!”

He found true faith.

—“You should be the representative of our group!” 

—“That’s right! Among the bricklayers, you’re the most respected, aren’t you?” 

—“E-everyone… thank you…!”

He even obtained the title of ‘councilman,’ something he thought only noble lords could have. He was the happiest man in Virginia, no, in the whole world. He lived every day with a heart full of gratitude for Baron Raleigh and Sir Nemo, who had given him land, faith, and honor.

But then…

—“Let’s save Sir Nemo!” 

—“Waaaaaaah!” 

—“E-everyone, calm down! I-I am a councilman!” 

—“Get out of the way! We’re going to save Sir Nemo!”

How dare they threaten this precious, beautiful, sacred, and magnificent community?

Recalling that moment, Hardy’s eyes burned with fury.

They are damn traitors. They disobeyed the commands of their leaders. And it was all the more infuriating considering that those leaders were the Apostles, the very bedrock of the holy church that Sir Nemo had established.

Traitors! And heretics, to boot! They must be definitively condemned as heretics! At the very least, they must be cast out of the community!

After shouting this out in front of everyone, he found that many people sympathized and followed his lead.

Yes. This had to be the right path, the right thing for this community.

A sense of satisfaction welled up inside him, a feeling of serving this sacred community. With a pounding heart, Hardy walked to the council hall. When he opened the door, he found it thronged with a diverse crowd. Natives, Englishmen, Moors, and Spaniards were all mixed together, creating a clamor.

“He’s speaking today?”

“That’s right. He said he’d decide the fate of Oitohtan and the others today. Weren’t you there that day?”

“Good heavens, this is nerve-wracking…”

At the center of the commotion was, of course, ‘His answer.’ What would be done with the ‘heretics’? How would those who had defied the Apostles’ commands be punished?

People who had flocked from all over the Chesapeake settlement quickly filled the empty seats. The six ‘Apostles’ were there, as were people from Croatoan Island and other scattered parts of the bay, and even chieftains from distant tribes. They were all waiting for one person, one angel.

Then, the back door of the council hall opened. Everyone rose to their feet, but a calm gesture from him bade them sit again.

It was Him.

He stood there with his usual serene smile, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. As He took his seat, a bell in the distance struck six o’clock precisely. It was time for the meeting to begin.

Creak.

“Today’s agenda… has truly only one major item.”

Hewitt spoke first, and Hardy swallowed hard. Everyone was looking at him. Unable to contain the surging emotions, Hardy rose from his seat and exclaimed, “Sir Nemo established this community in accordance with the will of the Lord!”

That was a self-evident truth.

“Sir Nemo saved those who were starving and built a home for everyone in this land of Virginia. All of this is the work of the Lord.”

That, too, was a self-evident truth.

“Therefore, we, as servants of the Lord, have a duty to protect this sacred community!”

A self-evident truth built upon another, leading to an inescapable conclusion. As everyone nodded in agreement, Hardy, filled with a surge of confidence, continued to build his logic.

“If we are to protect this sacred community of the Lord, from what must we protect it? Is it not from the works of the devil that we must defend it?”

“Hear, hear!”

“That is right! The ancient enemies of mankind, the devils, are covetously eyeing this community. Those heretics from Spain who worship the Pope!”

“And… the heretics within our own midst who dared to defy the orders of the Apostles are the ones who have been swayed by such works of the devil! They stole weapons! They stole food! They even stole a ship and fled! What else are they not capable of?”

There are so many forces trying to destroy this precious community; we cannot afford to be lenient.

To protect this place, those heretics must be dealt with.

“We must stop the devil’s influence, even if it means killing them or casting them out! If we cannot expel them, we must at least condemn them as heretics! Is that not the best we can…”

“Enough.”

Hardy’s words were cut short, and he let out a dry cough. And then. The one who had interrupted him was slowly rising from his seat.

“…”

“…”

“…”

Everyone looked up at him. They looked up at him as if awaiting the word of the Lord.

And…

“You said… that those who defy the will of the Lord must be punished?”

He spoke. Feeling an inexplicable pressure from His casual tone, Hardy nodded, shaking off his fear.

“Y-yes, that is right. We must guide those who have strayed from the Lord’s will, and if guidance fails, we must destroy them. That is the will of the Lord.”

“…”

“And are not such people… the heretics and unbelievers?”

“…”

“…Is that not so?”

“…”

Silence.

A heavy gaze pressed down on him.

“…”

The profound silence, in which not a single word was spoken, was more overwhelming than any eloquent speech. It was bewildering. That person… why is He acting this way?

I’ve only said what is obvious, haven’t I? I’ve only mentioned the most basic morals a Christian must uphold, haven’t I?

As he was thinking this. Sir Nemo shook his head. As if to say, You are wrong. As if He had already seen into his thoughts.

“Who is it that sorts the heretic, and who is it that judges the unbeliever…?” He murmured, looking up at the heavens. “Who under the sky can know the infinite will of the Lord? Which created being is so great as to comprehend Him fully?”

His voice was quiet and calm, like a mother singing a lullaby or teaching a child the alphabet. Gently, but with perfect clarity, He spoke.

“I ask all of you,” He said, gesturing to the assembly. “Do you truly know the full will of the Lord? Is there anyone here who believes they do?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…I thought not. That is how we are. We are so very small, and the almighty Lord is so very great.”

He smiled.

“We do not know the entirety of the Lord’s will. Unless He whispers it to us Himself, we cannot fathom all of His grand design. In that case, who among us can single out the heretic and point to the unbeliever?”

Again, an obvious truth was built upon another. But Hardy was horrified to find that the resulting structure led to a conclusion completely different from his own. Yet, as if mesmerized, he continued to listen to His simple and kind words.

“Is there anyone among you to whom the Lord has personally declared that Oitohtan and the others are unbelievers and heretics?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“No one? Then how can we call them heretics, or unbelievers, or agents of the devil, and punish them? We could certainly punish them for taking assets belonging to their community. But we cannot borrow the will of the Lord to judge someone in His name. Because…”

“…because we cannot know the will of the Lord.”

The words slipped out of Hardy’s mouth, and Nemo smiled and nodded. And Sir Nemo spoke again.

“…Therefore, I will leave their punishment to all of you. But do not treat them as heretics or unbelievers. Treat them as fellow companions who have gone astray.”

At these words, Oitohtan, who had been curled up in a corner, seemed to shrink even further. Hardy, for his part, was inwardly relieved. So they will be punished. Good. They should be. They just wouldn’t be punished as heretics…

Everyone quietly nodded, accepting His beautiful words. And with that, the meeting was adjourned. Hardy, with a satisfied look on his face, ended his day by relaying the story of what he had heard from Sir Nemo to his family.

After finishing his day, as he lay down in bed.

“…W-wait a minute!”

Hardy was struck with horror by a sudden thought.

“What-what is it, darling?”

“No… j-j-just a moment. A created being cannot possibly know the full will of the Lord? And therefore cannot sort out heretics and unbelievers?”

“Wh-what are you talking about all of a sudden?”

If that was true, then that meant the Apostles couldn’t know the full will of the Lord either. Because they, too, are created beings. It meant the government they formed couldn’t fully represent the will of the Lord, either. Because the Lord’s will is infinite.

But if that’s the case… Then what is this community? If we cannot even identify heretics and unbelievers… then what is the identity of this religion? Is this even Christianity?

The thought struck Hardy, and his face turned a deathly shade of blue. The color drained from his limbs, and his blood ran cold. It felt as if his heart had stopped.

“…N-n-no!”

Our small, precious community is a heresy!

And so, Hardy, along with others who had attended the meeting, began to awaken one by one in the dead of night. They screamed in spiritual turmoil.

Soon, the chaos spread throughout all of Virginia.