6 Troparion

And in came an old man dressed in priest robes, accompanied by a younger one.

And they were quite peculiar.

The old man was dressed in normal priest garments - not the strange armor hybrid that I saw the supposed Exorcist duo wearing before - with dark gray hair and a stoic expression. The younger one was in what I'm henceforth going to refer to as the 'battle priest' uniform, though this one was different from the two I'd formerly seen.

Rather than plain gray steel, the metal of his armor was colored red with a strange sheen, and the priest section of it was more… I guess I could say 'decorated' than Cael and Alessandro's. The background was red and the crosses gold, but I noticed one distinct difference in them besides the more fanciful design and craftsmanship.

The crosses were the Orthodox version, the one with the extra, smaller horizontal line at the top and the diagonal one at the bottom. [1]

Personally, while Orthodoxy is considered to be lower tier to me, a Catholic, I don't place it in the same category as, say, Protestantism or Anglicanism. Orthodoxy has around five or so differences from Catholicism - which are the ceremonies and traditions, using a different language for those aforementioned ceremonies, the Immaculate Conception, opinions on the Pope, and Filioque.

Otherwise, they may as well be the same. The only other difference I can think of is in the depiction and treatment of Original Sin, as well as some subtle influence from Byzantine holy fathers on other topics; compared to that of the barbarous Protestants, it's a slightly respectable branch of faith.

I won't hesitate to argue against some of their beliefs, however. There's a difference between tolerance and submission. I believe in my faith, which thereby means that I believe any others are incorrect and heretical. There is no middle ground or room for compromise.

"Afternoon. Yes, it's the afternoon, don't ask any questions." The old man seems to not be very hospitable. "You should've been awake sooner. Look at your body! All that mass should've regenerated itself hours ago. Making me wait…" he muttered.

"Don't mind my uncle too much. He can get frustrated very easily."

Although I'd expect comments like that to set off someone who allegedly has a short fuse, the priest seemed not to care whatsoever.

"I'm a Cardinal! Not one of those brutish Exorcists declaring themselves one without having gone through a day of theological seminary, a true Cardinal! He shouldn't be wasting my time! Now give me my cane!" The younger one produced a simple wooden cane from thin air and handed it to his supposed uncle, smirking in the process. The old man walked towards me - though I wonder how he walked here if he wasn't using it beforehand. "Don't act smart with me, got it? We show you around and then hand you to that unruly Protestant savage. Don't make us take longer!"

The old man was raising his cane, seemingly poised to hit me with it as if I were his progeny, until the younger one crept up behind him and whispered in his ear. The old one sighed and stood up straight, no longer about to assault me.

"Why should I?" he asked the younger man, who knelt down and whispered in his ear again.

"Fine." He dusted off his clothing and stood up even straighter. "Speak, boy. What is your name?" he said, seeming almost neutral compared to his former attitude.

Why is he asking that, anyway? He must already know; what official goes into a situation without all of the facts at hand? Isn't he the one complaining about wasting time?

"Why are you asking me something you already kno-"

"Because it's common courtesy! Show some manners and reciprocate!"

Well, he confirmed it; he may as well have just said, 'Yes, I do know all available information relating to you'. Looks like the thirty or so minutes I had were from when Jacques was telling them everything he'd observed about me.

"...My name is Ioann."

He seemed to be waiting for something. "Are you Siberian? You're supposed to ask us our names now!"

If he's been yelling like that for his whole life over the littlest things, how are his vocal cords not completely mutilated? What syndrome do you categorize people like this into?

Another thing I'd like to know is how this man powers through interaction like this. I don't even know how to describe it; one moment I'm lying in my bed, the next I'm being harassed and provoked. His conversational pace is breakneck.

"What are your names?"

No need to be rude quite yet. He seems important; despite his denomination and attitude, I can't afford to go around alienating everyone because I don't like them.

"I am Leon. My nephew here is Leonidas."

Fairly Greek names, but I can't be sure of their ethnicity just based on that. All this confirms is that they're probably from the Balkans, though the Orthodox affiliation may as well have done that on its own. They're speaking fluent Latin, though.

And did this codger name his nephew in tribute to himself? Or is it some sort of family tradition?

"Now come," Leonidas said. "You'll be stuck in this dimension for a month or two; it's our job to show you around for a bit and tell you about how things will be run."

What's a dimension? This must be considered imprisonment - plus, I did nothing wrong in the first place.

Alessandro was collateral damage.

My opinion of Orthodoxes have already degraded from this minute-long interaction. A supposed representative of Orthodoxy is a badgering, crusty old scrooge and his nephew.

They also mentioned something about handing me over to a feral Protestant - which is a situation that doesn't sound too pleasant to me.

"Get up! Not you, Alessandro. You'll also be stuck here, in case no one told you. It's your job to advise this one in the future," he said, poking me in the chest with his cane, noticing my state of dress. "Where is your shirt?! Homosexuality is an abomination! Haven't you read Leviticus!? I KNEW IT! We have another one of those illiterate philistines who's never read the Bible in his life! Why must the System award imbeciles with God-given powers?!"

"'Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable.' Oh, and I didn't forget, 'If a man lies with a man as one lies with woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads.' Don't insult me when it's clearly perverted officials like you who decided not to give me a shirt when I woke up."

"WHAT are you talking about?! You've been laying on top of your shirt since you woke u-"

"Uncle, calm down." Leonidas stepped in with a smile on his face, finding his clown of a relative's antics to be funny. "He simply made a mistake, and he showed you that he can recite the scripture at will. There's no need to continue with the insults."

The old man wheeled on him with speed unbefitting someone with a cane. "So YOU'RE telling ME that he just happened to not notice… Hmph. Never mind. There's a better way to settle this. Hey, boy," he called out to me while I put on my shirt. "Recite the Book of Revelations by memory and I'll allow you to walk away with your shame intac-"

"Uncle, weren't you the one complaining about wasting time?" Leonidas grabbed Leon by his shoulders and began steering him towards the door. "Let's go."

"You're right. He'd take an hour between each chapter to remember the rest. Stop falling behind, Ivan."

My name is not Ivan, but I know he's doing it on purpose, so I won't give him any sort of response, nor will I award this petulant narcissist the satisfaction.

I'm no longer looking forward to my future, not if it involves dealing with abnormal freaks like the ones I've met so far.

Although, any sort of heretic or enemy of God could be considered an 'abnormal freak', so maybe I should phrase that better.

"Ioann," Leonidas said, brandishing his arm out, "this is the 'commons'. There'll be some other new recruits with you later on; this is where you will all rest and eat."

Nothing special, just a fairly large room with some furnishings… it's only bigger than my entire church combined.

"How many 'recruits' will be here, besides me?"

All I hope is that they aren't obnoxious to the point of needing to restrain myself from getting into a fight. I'd enjoy teaching them some manners, of course, but getting to that point means that there was a long bout of annoyance before it.

"Maybe three," said Leon, inspecting one of the tables. "People have sensed the conflict lately and began immigrating, and those filthy, uncivilized Blackshirts have been pestering us here in our home base to unearth our secrets, so there's no influx of recruits. We haven't had a need for recruits recently anyhow - there is DUST on this table, Leonidas! Who is supposed to be taking care of this place?!"

Ah, yes. The Germans have Europe biting at its fingernails, shaking in fear of conflict - while everyone merely points their fingers instead of doing anything. I'll need to check up on recent news relating to them; for all I know, they could've annexed Switzerland by now.

"Come along," said Leonidas, his boots clanking on the wooden floor. "This area," he pointed to a large open field, stretching further than I could see, through a window, "will be the training grounds." He walked further down the hall. "This area is the kitchen, and through those doors is the storage area. That's about it. You already saw the male barrac- I mean room, so that's about it."

I won't complain. The 'commons' in and of itself is probably bigger than every room in my former church combined - and now I have a bed to sleep on, rather than a few stolen wooden crates piled together.

Stealing isn't a sin if you're faithful. It's quite simple.

My real question is why the sky is tinged yellow, but I won't question it on my own at this point. I've already used the hallucinations card too much for it to be anything more than a sad attempt at coping with my recent circumstances, so I'll just accept the fact that this place is 'supernatural' in some way, shape, or form.

"Hurry and follow me," said Leon, his hunched posture hobbling to the commons, where he promptly sat down at a table. "What are your questions?" he snapped. "Make it quick. I need to deal with an Ottoman sympathizer demonstration in Bulgaria. The bishops in the area may as well be kissing my feet and begging for assistance! As if I can snap my fingers and make those Muhammadans [2] start acting like good little boys in grade school! It's not like they're a threat! How far has Christendom fallen to be fearing those barbarians?!"

I'll make it quick so the heathens can be squashed, along with their pesky ideology and riots. I don't want to delay the administration of justice.

"...How much time do we have?"

"I'm setting a limit of ten minutes."

Enough time for me. Alessandro will probably tell me anything I don't have the time to ask them.

"Where is this place?"

He clicked his tongue. "You wouldn't understand even if we shoved the answer in your face. It's a sub-dimension. No more questions about it; I doubt you know what a dimension is in the first place."

True.

"What was that talk about handing me over to a Protestant?"

He picked up his cane and pointed at the window. "He's waiting out there. He'll be testing you."

"In what way?"

"Oh, he'll be testing your artistic ability and mathematical knowledge. What do you think he's testing you in?! It's in combat! Do you need me to throw up my fists to illustrate that for you?! He's going to beat you into the ground and test how long you last!"

What I'm hearing is that I'll get the chance to fight a presumably important Protestant dog. And why is he so angry at such a reasonable question? Or maybe he's only angry from the mention of the Protestant. It's understandable if so.

"Why is the sky colored yellow?"

I can't figure it out on my own without my brain starting to hurt, so I'll satisfy my curiosity using them.

Leonidas was the one to answer this time. "It's because the sub-dimension is held together by a Power Angel's energy. Just pretend that it's simulating dusk or dawn for now with its gold color; it changes to black during night. You just won't see any variation between those two states, so get used to it."

Power Angel…? An Angel is watching over me and holding my abode together?

Is it my Guardian Angel?

"Are there any people you know will be sharing this space with me?"

"Yes, we do," said Leon, eyes wrinkling in disgust. "An arrogant, deplorable, haughty, bossy, aggressive, boastful, odious, fickle, unreliable, weak little German noble. I hope she gets sent to the deepest pit of Hell… And there's also another one, but he's unconfirmed. He'll be sent to another area if we can't find an extra occupant. Speaking of which…" he stared at me, "you're unlucky, is all I can say."

…From where exactly did he form such a nasty opinion of this girl? He was speaking with a tone of spite and disgust throughout that entire time.

"She wasn't that bad, uncle. Well, she does have all the traits that you mentioned, but still, it's an exaggeration."

"SHE is a WOMAN acting ARROGANT! That is ALL I need to say about HER!"

"...Uncle, she's nobility. Of course she's arrogant."

"That doesn't excuse anything! You've read Ephesians! Recite to me chapter five, verses twenty-two to twenty-three! Or were the years I spent teaching you a waste?"

Before Leonidas could, I responded. "'Wives, obey your husbands as you obey the Lord. The husband is the head of the wife, just as Christ is the head of the church people. The church is his body and he saved it. Wives should obey their husbands in everything, just as the church people obey Christ.'"

"Good. You're more educated than I thought. Anyway, you have a few more minutes. Ask your final questions."

Hmm… I can't think of any good ones off the top of my head.

"...What is my ability?"

I'm not even sure if they'd know the answer.

"Yours? The Church has a record on it from once in history. Your… 'trainer'," he cringed in disgust, "will tell you all about it from the information in our archives. He has something in common with you in his power."

"Okay. We're done for now," said Leonidas. "My uncle is too busy to visit you - today was as Branch Representative of the Orthodoxy, so it counts as work - so I'll be checking up on you every few weeks."

The Orthodox picked a horrible man for the job. This is who they want representing the rest of the entire branch? Am I less important than I thought if this is who they sent?

I have one last question though.

"Will I be meeting more… 'Branch Representatives'?"

He turned to me, making a 'follow along' motion with his hand. "I'll answer as we walk. And yes, you're actually about to meet the Protestant representative outside. The Catholic one will come later. We may all seem like unorthodox picks - pun unintended - but we're meant to give you a taste of realism as to what the Church members are like. There's no use in sugarcoating your opinions of us all with propaganda when you'll find out that it's an illusion as soon as you walk away from the conversation."

That is fairly respectable. I don't even mind it; honesty is better suited to swaying my opinion than obvious falsities. They must've learned their lesson from an especially shrewd recruit who didn't take a liking to the method, and they're all the more lucky for it - having an impression of the Orthodox being angry, aggressive people is much better than an impression of being lying heathens.

As much as I dislike their company, I can solidly say that I don't hate them. Yet.

"That's your trainer." Leonidas pointed at a young man lying down in the grass, possibly asleep.

Of course the Protestant is asleep on the job.

Leon spoke up while walking away: "Don't bother asking for help. I won't care. Maybe Leonidas will, though. Off we go, Leonidas - time to exterminate the Muhammadans!"

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[1] The picture for this should be here.

[2] I use the term 'Muhammadans' because that's what they were called; the term 'Muslim' is fairly recent in use. The idea was that followers of Christ would be called Christians and followers of Muhammad would be Muhammadans - it's not anything complicated that deserves a whole paragraph. Just keep this in mind for when I use the term in the future.

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First fight scene will be in the next chapter - MC will obviously get stomped into the ground, but it's still a fight scene… it probably just won't be as entertaining since the MC won't be able to do much against one of the Church's most talented warriors.

All I can say is that I hope my skills of writing the masterpiece fight scenes in my last novel hasn't been lost over the six month break from writing I had.

Also, this chapter is named Troparion because a troparion is a hymn in the religious music of Eastern Orthodox Christianity. I thought it was fitting.

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