*** Snowkeep Palace – Council Room ***

The council chamber was cold.

The great fireplace on the far wall burned only faintly, its heat lost to the stone expanse that stretched between the pillars. Rows of robed priests sat beneath the stained-glass mural of the Divine Pantheon, their colors a dull echo of what once represented faith and order.

Justinian entered with Lucan at his side.

The murmuring stopped. A dozen eyes followed him, some cautious, others outright hostile.

He moved without hurry, the same steady stride that carried him through battlefields and previous council meetings. When he reached the table, he didn't sit immediately. He simply looked at them.

"Everyone," he greeted, voice polite but not deferential. "You wanted an audience?"

Father Verdant was the first to rise, clasping his hands over his robe.

"My lord duke," he began,

"We are… concerned. Word has reached us that you are distributing scriptures and knowledge to the common folk. Matters of irrigation, of health, and—" his tone sharpened slightly, "—even of divine study, without ecclesiastical approval."

Justinian raised an eyebrow. "Divine study? You mean basic literacy?"

"Don't jest with us, my lord," Regulus interjected. "You speak of knowledge as though it were mere coin to be tossed to the masses. Yet you know better than most that ideas are powerful. Too powerful to be left without the Church's supervision."

Another father raised a hand, expressing his opinion.

"While I agree with your reforms, my lord, I'm afraid that at the pace you have set, it will eventually tire out the duchy's resources."

Lucan exhaled quietly through his nose, but Justinian lifted a hand, signaling him to stay silent.

"The resources are of no problem, we have dozens of new trade partners and a vassal that will willingly hand resources," he said softly. "As for the other concern..."

I'm not planting ideas into their head, I'm planting survival."

Regulus frowned. "And do you think that survival won't eventually turn into ambition?"

"Then we share the same fear," Justinian replied.

"But where you see danger, I see remedy. An educated and ambitious rebel can bring danger, but also innovation."

"But do the benefits outweigh the risk!?"

"Do I look like someone who would let another rebel endanger my capital?"

The chamber was silent for a moment. Only the crackling of the fire filled the gap.

Father Verdant's voice lowered. "Our duty is to maintain faith, my lord. Order. Harmony. If the peasantry begins to think they can interpret divine truth for themselves, what happens when their 'reason' contradicts the temple's?"

Justinian finally took his seat.

"Then you teach them," he said simply. "Or they will find teachers elsewhere."

The priests exchanged uncertain glances. No one had expected him to sound so calm, so utterly confident in his blasphemy.

"You misunderstand," Regulus pressed, voice rising slightly. "Without the Church's approval, your compendium is heresy by decree."

Lucan's gauntlet clinked as his fingers curled against the pommel of his sword. "Watch your words, priest."

But Justinian merely smiled.

"I see. Then allow me to resolve this dispute with one simple action... I'll send a copy of the compendium to the Holy Patriarchal States, have them decide."

He stood again, slow and deliberate. His eyes met theirs one by one.

"I do not seek to weaken faith," he said. "But faith without understanding breeds blind obedience. And blind obedience," his tone hardened, "is the enemy of both man and god."

The silence that followed felt heavy, almost suffocating. The priests shifted uncomfortably, the words landing like stones in still water.

Father Verdant tried to recover. "My lord, surely you do not mean to imply—"

"I mean," Justinian interrupted, "that ignorance serves no one. Not even the divine."

"Why do you think only the competent receive the gods' blessings, father?"

Lucan's lips twitched upward, barely suppressing a grin. He had seen generals back down under less pressure than these priests.

Finally, Regulus sighed, lowering his gaze. "We will… review your materials, my lord. Perhaps a compromise may be reached."

Justinian nodded once. "Then we understand one another."

He turned toward Lucan. "Marshal, see that the Church receives a full copy of the first compendium volume. And ensure the scribes who copied it are treated with respect. No arrests. No inquisitions."

"As you command."

The two of them left the chamber in silence.

[The Book of War Responds]

[Marvelous...]

The sudden notification made Justinian's back shiver. It's been a while since the system gave a personal remark.

Not since the dreams it had been giving him, and he had a creeping suspicion that the next dream where it would show up would be tonight.

*** Snowkeep Palace – Corridor ***

The doors of the council chamber closed behind them with a hollow thud. The long corridor ahead was empty save for the distant rhythm of guards changing posts. The faint smell of incense followed from the hall they had left, clinging to Justinian's coat like the last breath of argument.

Lucan spoke first.

"You do realize they'll never forgive you for that speech."

Justinian's expression didn't change. "They don't have to forgive me. They just have to work with me."

"Pragmatic as ever," Lucan muttered, his steel boots ringing against the marble. "But I can already hear them drafting letters to their superiors. The cardinals won't take kindly to your… tone."

"They'll take kindly to results," Justinian replied. "If Snowkeep's granaries overflow this winter, they'll find it hard to call prosperity heresy, or even if they do... I trust you know what to do."

Justinian gave Lucan a dangerous gaze, one that always meant death.

Lucan let out a low chuckle. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple," Justinian said quietly. "Simple doesn't mean easy."

He paused at the window, looking out toward the lower city. Smoke from a dozen new forges coiled into the pale sky. The clang of hammers reached even here, a steady beat of progress beneath the snow.

For a moment, he let himself breathe it in, the scent of steel, ash, and purpose. A city waking.

"Do you have news about Cassia?" Justinian said. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"She's likely doing well, I heard that Vesuvian is preparing a huge ceremony." Lucan raised an eyebrow. "I trust you have an idea about why that is?"

"I may have..." Justinian murmured with a small smile. "But I'm not entirely sure."

They continued walking. The hallway grew darker as clouds swallowed the sun outside. Servants bowed as the duke passed, whispering about the council, about how he had silenced a dozen priests with a single speech.

Rumor moved faster than any decree.

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