Chapter 482 - 343: Creating a Miracle

"My lamb, I forgive your sins."

Belem immediately prostrated himself, his head hitting the floor with a series of thuds. The rapid sound of his bowing was almost a battle in itself, yet after two or three thumps, he suddenly found the sound a bit familiar.

He lifted his head slightly, and the scene before him left him stunned—Eric, having appeared from who knows where, was standing before him with a mocking smile on his face.

"Eric? Hey! You bastard!" Belem immediately leaped to his feet as if jolted awake.

He finally understood what had happened, but he didn’t dare to fully believe it.

He instinctively took a few steps back. In the smoke-filled room, the figure of "Christ" still floated in the air, its holy face still gazing down at him. Even though Belem knew this was all probably Eric’s "handiwork," he still couldn’t comprehend how the scene before him had been accomplished.

Eric didn’t answer Belem. He walked straight to the window and threw it open. The smoke in the room billowed out like a tidal wave, instantly dissipating into the air. The image of "Christ" also grew fainter as the smoke cleared, until it finally vanished completely.

Belem stood frozen in place, dumbfounded.

"How... How did you do that? Are... are you the Devil?"

Hearing this, Eric gave Belem a resounding slap across the face. "Devil my ass! If I were the Devil, you wouldn’t even have the chance to speak."

"Then... then what was all that?"

"You don’t need to know how it works," Eric said with a shrug. "What’s important is that in everyone’s eyes, this is a miracle. We need this kind of miracle to make people believe."

"Speaking of which, an Armenian today claimed he saw Christ... This isn’t your doing too, is it?" Belem asked with some hesitation.

Eric smiled faintly. "Take him to see more people. Let everyone know he saw Christ. We’re going to use him to pull off an unprecedented holy apparition."

Belem took a deep breath. "I must be insane."

Eric clapped him on the shoulder, his smile widening. "That’s right, you are insane, Belem. Why else would you have believed in a ’miracle’ from a ’Christ’ like that?"

Belem shook his head, muttering to himself, ’I should have just stayed a regular Crusader. What is this crazy scheme? I’m going to Hell for this...’

Eric turned away, unconcerned. "It’s not like one more sin on your soul will make a difference. Go on, go on, run along and work for this ’miracle.’ Tomorrow, you can also stand before ’Christ’ and feel the victory this miracle brings!"

Belem ground his teeth. "I’d say you have plenty of sins of your own!"

"Just tell me if you’re in or not."

"You don’t have a single nice thing to say. Fine, if it’s crazy, it’s crazy. But you have to promise to teach me this trick later."

"Fine, but only if you’re capable of learning it. Now, take him to see Brother John. And find me as many candles as you can."

....

Belem took the farmer, Stephen, to the courtyard behind the Church, where he found Brother John busy organizing supplies.

Brother John was cleaning the filth out of the stable left behind by the Turkic People. He planned to turn the courtyard into a storage area for sacks of grain and hay.

"My child," said Brother John, "what do you have to tell me?"

"A wondrous thing, my lord," the farmer Stephen began, then said in a rush, "Jesus Christ, our Holy Savior, and his disciple Saint Andrew, will show me where the Holy Spear is hidden—the very spear that pierced our Savior’s side.

And he has commanded me to find you and Eric, and to tell you that we must go and find it. For only with its help can we be saved from the dangers that threaten us, and only then will our army march triumphantly on to Jerusalem!"

"The Holy Spear?" Brother John repeated. "The one that pierced Christ’s flesh?"

"The very one," Belem said, nodding as if it were all true. "He told me to bring this boy to you."

What followed was an interrogation as harsh as one for a common thief.

Brother John demanded to know why this illiterate farmer dared to make such a claim.

The farmer Stephen replied, "Because you have allowed the army of Christ to fall into such debauchery and sin. Because you have not acted as Shepherds for His flock, but have let them become like wolves, slaughtering the innocent and plundering their homes. Because you, in your arrogance, have forgotten the humility of Christ, who for our sake became a simple farmer himself?"

Belem could see the veins on the Brother’s forehead throbbing. If he hadn’t been there, John might have slapped the farmer.

But the Brother did not. Instead, he stared at Stephen with a barely suppressed rage.

"Bring me the Holy Spear," Brother John all but roared.

Hearing the Brother’s roar, the people nearby began to gather around.

"It will be revealed to me tomorrow night. Christ Himself will guide me," the farmer Stephen answered. "Then I will lead you to it, for the glory of God and the victory of our pilgrimage. Until then, we must fast."

The farmer Stephen’s confident declaration instantly drew gasps and murmurs from the crowd.

"Count Belem, you have brought a raving heretic before me! You should know that only those who hold the Holy Office have the right to interpret the divine will. You had better give me a reasonable explanation, or I will report this to my superior, Bishop Admar, and to the Holy See."

"All I know is that the first person to witness Christ’s apparition after His death was Mary of Magdala. And the beginning of that story was right here on the land beneath our feet—the lands of the East, the Levant, the very ground that Christ Himself walked upon.

This poor farmer is only asking for until tomorrow. If he is to be punished, why can’t it wait until then?"

Belem clapped Brother John on the shoulder and, without giving him any chance to object, turned and walked away.

"Christ... will Christ really appear to guide us tomorrow?"

"Is it true? Will Christ show himself tomorrow?"

"I remember... I remember my Priest once said that Christ has slept for a thousand years, and He would return to the world with His kingdom. Maybe tomorrow is the day."

...."

Some clasped their hands together, eyes shining with anticipation, and prayed softly, as if beseeching the Lord’s arrival. Others, bewildered, whispered, "If this is true, doesn’t it mean we are about to achieve a holy victory?"

Still others were in disbelief, shaking their heads and muttering, "This is just a farmer’s delusion. How can it be compared to the prophecies of the Bible?"

And yet, whether they believed or not, an irrepressible excitement and anticipation filled the air. The rumor of Christ’s apparition reawakened the Courage and passion buried deep in their hearts, along with their hopes and desires.

The people began to whisper amongst themselves. Some were doubtful, others hopeful, but all were silently praying in their hearts, wishing this coming miracle would change their fate.

One man stroked the hilt of his Sword and said in a low voice to his comrade-in-arms, "If Christ truly comes to guide us, then Jerusalem will no longer be so far away."

Others began to re-examine the farmer before them with a deep sense of awe and curiosity. "He can speak with Saint Andrew. Perhaps he truly has received some kind of revelation..."

Amidst this atmosphere thick with anticipation and doubt, Brother John’s expression grew even darker, his eyes burning with fury.

"These are the words of a madman! The will of God is conveyed only through the Seat of the Apostle! Anyone outside the Church who claims to know the divine will is a heretic! They are all followers of the Devil!" Listening to the crowd’s murmurs, Brother John was practically beside himself with rage.

In the past, this might have been a fearsome threat. But now, with the armies of Heretics bearing down on them, everyone was desperate for a miracle. No one paid any mind to Brother John’s threats.

And so, the matter was settled.

Belem took the farmer Stephen to the city center and left him there alone, allowing him to proclaim his prophecy of Christ to all who would listen.

Whenever someone expressed doubt, believing it impossible for Christ to appear to a poor farmer, and tried to get to the bottom of it to expose him, the farmer Stephen would always reply:

"I am certain of nothing, sir, except that Saint Andrew spoke gently to me, and that the face of our Lord was so beautiful."