Chapter 346: Molten Iron Barrier

Ivendel’s professional competence was astounding.

In the two months that followed, New Green Swamp Town, and by extension the entire Delusional Land, developed at a rapid pace. Every resource was fully mobilized by this scion from Cloud Port, who worked so hard it was almost painful to watch.

He rushed about during the day and often remained busy into the night. On several occasions, Ron had seen the lights in his room burning all night long. The next morning, a stack of reports, simplified enough for anyone to understand, would be sitting neatly on Ron’s desk.

This wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing for a politician, as it might make them feel as if they were losing their grip on power. But for Ron, it was perfect; it freed up a great deal of his time for Alchemy Experiments and Arcane Research.

Carlos and Constance had complained to Ron about Ivendel, but their main grievance was that the young man insisted on personally overseeing nearly every administrative matter. Having witnessed the Rose Council’s methods since childhood, they saw his actions as autocratic. On the other hand, they couldn’t help but admit how efficient Ivendel was.

"He does the work of five men by himself, but how long can he keep this up?" Eventually, Constance, who had grown accustomed to Ivendel’s style, gave up on persuading Ron to reduce his authority and instead began to worry about the young man’s health.

"Constance has been on my case about you again," Ron said one morning. As usual, he had arrived at his office early to handle official business, only to run into Ivendel clutching a stack of documents. "I have to wonder, are you getting more sleep than an Elf these days?"

"You jest, my lord," Ivendel said. The sockets of his eyes were far more sunken than when Ron had first met him, but he still forced himself to appear energetic. "I am a man whose shame is carved upon his face. I must wash away my disgrace and regain my honor. This is just a little work. It’s nothing."

"Only the living can wash away disgrace. Those who die from overwork can’t," Ron said, gesturing for him to enter. "I read your report from yesterday. We’ve already established a trade route with Cloud Port? And the Bengsen Clan agreed to it?"

"The current governor on duty in Cloud Port is a member of the Milkwei Clan. He belongs to the ’Shore Faction,’ which is more inclined to actively trade with other powers to fund its maritime explorations," Ivendel explained. "Furthermore, the changing climate in the north has disrupted ocean currents, affecting both coastal and deep-sea fishing to varying degrees. If the Bengsen Clan wants to maintain its status, it has no choice but to compromise."

Ivendel said mockingly, "Those pirates value money more than anything else. To protect their profits from any losses, they’d probably be willing to come here and personally apologize to you."

"You can handle the details. You’re from Cloud Port, after all," Ron said with a nod, then glanced at the documents tucked under Ivendel’s arm. "And what are these?"

"These are trade agreements with several members of the City-State Alliance, these are survey reports on nearby natural resources, these are..." Ivendel sat down across from Ron, presenting the documents one by one as if he knew them by heart. His hand finally paused on a document marked with red ink. "And this one. Although I shouldn’t have to bother you with it, I believe you must review it before it’s given to Miss Victoria."

"What is it?" Ron took the special document. It appeared to be a transcribed copy of a letter. "If it’s a letter for Victoria, why not just give it to her? It’s not like we have a policy of censoring mail."

"Ordinary letters don’t need to be reviewed, of course," Ivendel said with a wry grin. "But this one is different. It’s from the Molten Iron Barrier Religious Order."

"’Molten Iron Barrier’?" Ron’s gaze fell to the signature at the bottom of the long letter. The name was indeed written there in the Common Language, but what did it mean?

Ivendel had said it was a Religious Order, but Ron had never heard of such a Deity—what’s more, it didn’t sound like the title of any god he knew.

"The Molten Iron Barrier isn’t the name of a single Deity. Some of the faithful don’t worship one specific god, but rather a concept, a creed, or something else entirely. As a result, they worship multiple Deities at once. When enough such believers gather, all sorts of ’Pantheons’ are born," Ivendel explained, seeing Ron’s confusion.

"The Molten Iron Barrier is a prime example. The followers in this Religious Order believe in absolute order and fairness. Discipline, justice, and logic are the things they tirelessly pursue. They believe that carefully designed laws will create a rational class-based society, and that legitimate leaders must be obeyed. The ruled must fulfill their duties, while the rulers must abide by the law—or be replaced."

"Is Heim one of the Deities they worship?"

"Precisely," Ivendel nodded. "The letter says they seem to have received some kind of Oracle and need to find Miss Victoria to confirm it. Of course, you have the final say here. If you don’t want Miss Victoria to see them, you need only say the word."

"I don’t understand. Why would I refuse them?" Ron didn’t see anything particularly special about the situation. Victoria was a native of Fromm, and her becoming a Priest of Heim was a complete coincidence. If people from her organization were looking for her, that should be good news... right?

"It seems you’re not very familiar with the Molten Iron Barrier," Ivendel said with a nod. "As I just mentioned, they believe in order. The problem is, they’re *too* orderly!"

"These people are practically Defenders! If they see that your territory has so many... such diverse races, they’ll definitely be furious!"

"I’m not one of their followers. Surely they can’t start bossing me around?"

"That’s precisely the problem. You may not be one of their followers, but Miss Victoria is," Ivendel said quickly. "If, as the letter says, only a few Judges and Priests are coming, they certainly won’t dare to interfere with you. But that won’t stop them from dealing with Miss Victoria! Consorting with Kobolds, goblins, Vampire Descendants, and Beastmen—their judgment of her is bound to be harsh."

"If they really decide to pass sentence, could you really stand by and do nothing?"

"What if a real conflict breaks out? Are we supposed to declare war on the entire Religious Order?"

"Then based on what you’re saying, can’t we just refuse to see them?" Ron’s head was starting to ache, but he had to admit Ivendel had a point. He had to start considering the matter seriously. In his past life, someone could ask, "How many divisions has the Pope?" But here... the gods from every world could probably muster a division of their own!

"That’s not good either," the newly appointed Civil Servant said, tapping the desk. "Lord Ron, as a Lord, you don’t want to be branded as someone who ’rejects order,’ do you?"

"Then what do you suggest we do? Do we see them, or not?"

Ivendel was silent for a moment before speaking. "My lord, although I have never handled this type of situation before, based on my experience with other difficult matters, I have a tentative proposal: We meet them,"

"And we don’t. Or, to be more precise, we don’t meet them *here*."