At the thought, Altair leaned toward the carriage window and said, "Neil, change course to the Harvest Church on Rose Street in Greater George South."
The carriage slowed to a halt, and Neil's answer came: "Understood, Count Altair."
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Vera blinked her wide eyes and asked curiously, "Count Altair, do you worship the Earth Mother?"
His own answer was no. People like him, the vast majority of them, simply didn't have the concept of faith in a god.
The creed he lived by was survival first, then personal philosophy. Roselle Gustav—Huang Tao—had been the same.
Altair smiled at Vera. "Not at all. I'm merely curious, and since we happen to be nearby, I thought I'd take a look."
"Vera, what about you and Erin? Which deity do you believe in?"
Vera answered without hesitation, "We don't believe in any god, past or present. Their existence means nothing to us."
...When the carriage stopped, Altair and Vera stepped out and saw a church that was, by the standards of Loen's three major churches, almost cramped.
Its outer walls were carved with wheat, flowers, and springs surrounding a simple infant—the life sigil. The architectural style stood out sharply from the surrounding buildings.
Once steady on her feet, Vera stared and exclaimed, "This is the Earth Mother's church? Why is it so small? I thought the Church of the Earth Mother was one of the seven orthodox churches—the building is nothing like I imagined!"
Altair made no move to hush her; she was simply stating the truth.
Though the world had no explicit religious restrictions and "freedom of faith" existed on paper,
that freedom came with limits: regional belief systems were entrenched, and foreign faiths struggled to take root.
Local churches might even eradicate "heretical" creeds, so the religious climate varied wildly from place to place.
Most of the Northern Continent worshipped the seven orthodox gods, while the Southern Continent revered Death and the Chained God, and the Eastern Continent worshipped the True Creator.
"Freedom of faith" was little more than diplomatic rhetoric. In Loen, most people followed only three of the seven orthodox churches.
The Church of the Evernight Goddess, headquartered in Winter County, counted many nobles among its flock and wielded great social influence.
The Church of the Lord of Storms had once been based in Backlund before—no one knew why—relocating to Pasiu Island, yet its deep roots and influence remained.
The Church of Steam and Machinery, formerly the Church of the Artificer God, had renamed itself when Roselle Gustav's industrial revolution drew the deity's direct attention. Riding the wave of industry, it gained countless adherents among Backlund's factory workers and technicians.
Roselle Gustav, in the early days, could never have imagined he was sawing off the branch he sat on.
Helping the Steam Queen fully digest her potion and ascend to a stable godhood—if they ever met again, he'd have to mock her to her face; just thinking about it amused him.
Of course, not everyone worshipped only those three; other gods had followers, but their churches faced restrictions.
The Church of the Earth Mother, for example, had believers and churches in Loen, yet its proselytizing was tightly curtailed.
After all, she was not indigenous to Loen. The Earth Mother's cathedral was in the Feysac Empire, and she was publicly known as the God of Combat's Mother.
With the two nations at war, the royal family was hardly foolish enough to fund the enemy by letting its citizens worship Her.
Altair shrugged and said to Vera, "Come on, we're at the door—let's go inside."
With that, he strolled toward the church.
Perhaps because of the sparse congregation, the doors were not flung wide but stood half-closed.
He pushed gently, and the heavy doors swung open.
The décor, he thought, was fitting for a church named after the Earth Mother: less pomp and solemnity, more warmth and serenity. Motifs of fertility, life, and the earth dominated.
Sunlight through stained-glass dappled the murals like ripples across wheat fields.
The sculptures were mostly plant reliefs, and along the edges terracotta pots held growing crops; the air carried the scent of soil and green things.
Deep in his soul, base code began to surface. If this had been a peaceful world, he would have joined at once—who wouldn't want to farm quietly and live at ease?
While they admired the interior, a towering "giant" emerged from a side door. Up close, the man wore the brown vestments of an Earth Mother bishop.
The cleric approached without interrupting, simply waiting... When Altair finally finished looking around, he turned to the newcomer.
In truth, the moment the man appeared, Altair's spiritual senses had warned him; seeing no hostile intent, he'd simply gone back to admiring the décor.
The bishop gave a slight nod of greeting.
Altair returned the courtesy, then studied the man: well over two meters tall—giant blood?
Around sixty, stern-featured, pale-blue eyes, brown bishop's robes.
Though dressed as an Earth Mother cleric, the man couldn't hide a battle-hardened air; Altair guessed he had killed many.
Only one person fit that description: Bishop Utravsky, the pirate-turned-priest mentioned in the original tale, sole bishop of the Harvest Church in Backlund.
Vera, startled out of her reverie, yelped.
Altair patted her back to steady her.
Once she calmed, the bishop apologized, "I'm truly sorry, miss; I hadn't meant to frighten you."
Hand still on her chest, Vera replied, "It's all right, Bishop. I was just startled when I turned and found someone beside me. It's my own fault for being too absorbed."