The Collapse of Ryan

More than half a year had passed since the battle in the colosseum, and Ryan had suffered an unprecedented blow. Yet they had not been defeated on the battlefield. With the truth about the Demonic Dragon uncovered and the second sacrifice of Arthur Ryan, the entire empire was plunged into chaos and bewilderment. The more fanatical the faith, the greater the devastation when it shattered. Over those six months, Ryan's suicides alone exceeded a million. Most were members of the military, and Ryan's paladin corps in particular suffered catastrophic losses. Even knowing that suicide meant falling into Hell, those paladins still chose this extreme path. For faced with the accountability demanded by other kingdoms, faced with evidence of countless war crimes, and faced with the bitter fruit borne of years of human supremacist doctrine, they had no way to atone. Short of plunging into Hell, they had no other recourse. Alan did everything within his power, but he had no time to tend to these paladins; he had to focus his attention on the common folk. The collapse of faith threw the realm into utter disarray. Although the orcs and dwarves had not launched overt invasions, they spared no covert threats or pressures. For a time, panic gripped Ryan, and prices soared across the board. A prosperous kingdom where everyone once had full bellies plunged into famine and unrest within a few short months. Alan alone could never hope to save the empire. Fortunately, James Watson, the former Supreme Arbiter, was still there, as were his connections. In this hour of crisis, the entire Watson family sprang into action. James Watson retook control of the Cardinal Inquisition, first steadying the imperial capital's nobility and then dispatching large reserves of talent from the capital to the provinces. A millennium-old empire never lacked elites; the youths graduating from the theological academies had merely lacked opportunities. James Watson handpicked them personally, brushing aside all objections to grant these young people sufficient authority before posting them to regional territories. Unconcerned with the military, they managed only civil affairs, tasked with allocating supplies, comforting refugees, and assisting local lords in restoring order. Alan, representing the Ryan Empire, threw himself into months of diplomatic missions. Ryan was on the verge of collapse and could not endure any external assault. The orcs and dwarves harbored deep-seated hatred for Ryan, so Alan had to appease these two neighbors; if war broke out now, Ryan would be utterly annihilated. Moreover, only Alan was accepted to represent Ryan diplomatically; anyone else would be rejected outright. Originally, Alan's eldest brother should have calmed the military, having once been a commander of the highest rank. Yet Ange Watson happened to have been heavily favored and relied upon by the Demonic Dragon Emperor. Once the Demonic Dragon's true identity was exposed, he naturally became the target of public condemnation. Ange's resolve was not so unyielding; three days after Arthur Ryan's sacrifice, he too committed suicide before the monument. Cade Watson, who had always loved slacking off, stepped out of the house after their eldest brother's suicide to contact the anxious generals. The Watsons were not the only prominent family in Ryan; the others simply hadn't been "cleansed" of guilt the way Alan had. Every one of those generals believed themselves guilty, trembling in wait for divine retribution. Deeming themselves unfit to lead by example, they were paralyzed. Cade Watson saw right through human nature. He first reached out to the nobles who had once supported Alan's push to split Ryan, rallying around them to form the first combat-ready force before beginning to quell the unrest. First came crushing the riots, followed by reforming the military and consoling the warriors whose faith had shattered. Cade Watson's success exceeded everyone's expectations. This good-for-nothing, who normally appeared lazy and indifferent to everything, managed to soothe people's hearts in their darkest hour. When most panic-stricken paladins saw Cade Watson, they were stunned by the blazing Holy Light radiating from him. Following that great battle, many paladins and clerics of light could no longer channel the Holy Light. It was precisely this loss that made them despair, believing themselves guilty, and drove so many to suicide. And Cade Watson's method of comforting others was to loudly proclaim to everyone all the foolish things he had done and every precept he had broken—all while bathed in dazzling, brilliant Holy Light. "Back when I was in the academy, I peeked at nuns bathing!" "After I got punished for skipping class, I spat on the teacher's back!" "I stole money from home and pinned the blame on my little brother Alan—he was only seven!" "I went to the battlefield, but I was so terrified of dying that I deserted on day one! Claimed I ran into goblins, when I actually stabbed myself twice!" "I've mistakenly killed innocents on the battlefield too; my hands are stained with blameless blood!" "I've taken bribes! Doing business with that lich, I pocketed heaps of kickbacks as the middleman!" ... One after another, sins that would have warranted an honor execution in the past were brazenly confessed by Cade Watson, yet the Holy Light upon him did not diminish in the slightest. "A sinner like me can still wield the Holy Light! The Lord of the Dawn still hasn't abandoned me! Do you know why?" Looking at the crestfallen yet hopeful paladins, Cade Watson shouted, "Because I never give up hope! That is the true doctrine we believe in! We must be like the dawn—always holding hope for the future, always bringing hope to others!" Everywhere he went, Cade Watson used these "crimes" of his to encourage others. The effect was remarkably good. Inspired by Cade Watson, many found the Holy Light surging from within them once more, gathering to his side. Yet Cade Watson soon redirected their reverence to his younger brother, Alan. In Cade's telling, Alan was the true saint—one who had never committed a single wrong from birth until now, steadfastly upholding the tenets of their faith. With his brother's help, the domestic situation finally took a turn for the better. Yet when Alan, far away in the desert, heard of this, he hid away and wept for a long time. Because he knew full well that his second brother had never done any of those wrongful things. The Watson family was strictly disciplined. Even their eldest brother, Ange Watson, who had been most thoroughly brainwashed by the Demonic Dragon, had never done so many wrongs. Across the three Watson brothers, their worst violation of the faith had only ever been lying to others. Cade Watson was lying right now. He had sacrificed his own honor so that those sinners could rekindle hope, allowing Ryan to return to the right track. Perhaps it was precisely because of this sacrifice that the Holy Light upon him shone all the brighter. Alan did not dare weep for long, for an exhausting negotiation awaited him next. The dwarves demanded reparations for the damages caused by Ryan's unprovoked invasion—a sum so astronomical that even a tenth of it would bankrupt today's Ryan completely. Yet there was no other way. Ryan could only admit its wrongdoing and plead for forgiveness. The desert had to be returned; there was no room for discussion on that point. As for the reparations, negotiations dragged on. Alan felt a splitting headache. He had not slept for days, but with the dwarves pressing him step by step, he was at a loss for how to handle it. And if talks broke down here, the orcs certainly wouldn't stand idly by—they might even march to war again despite their food shortages. If only that lich were still around. That lich could get anything done as long as he was paid, and no matter how greedy he was, he always left his negotiating counterpart a way out. Unfortunately, he was gone. Just as Alan splashed cold water on his face, preparing to meet the dwarven bureaucrats once more, he suddenly heard a buzzing vibration. Glancing back, he saw the portable magic mirror on the bedside table vibrating. Before Alan could even activate it, Anbaixiu's face appeared on the mirror's surface. He still wore the appearance of a black-haired youth, still bearing that warm, smiling expression. Anbaixiu spoke up, "Yo, long time no see... It's only been six months or so, Alan, how did you age ten years?" Hearing that familiar voice, Alan's eyes grew hot, and tears nearly spilled over again. Gritting his teeth, Alan said, "Master Ultraman, you really are... Please, save Ryan!"