Type-Moon, Is a Small Opening Also an Opening?

Unfortunately, this was not the Age of Gods, and Novia was not someone like the Sword Emperor Old Sword, capable of destroying a nation single-handedly.

"You're young, yet you've got quite a lot on your mind. No wonder John thinks so highly of you and sent me here."

Lucius slowly lowered the oars and began rowing again.

Lucius understood what Novia meant. Rather, he had known all along. If they had not used magecraft to conceal themselves from the start, the mages of the Roman Empire stationed at the Bosphorus Strait would have noticed them long ago and moved to arrest and interrogate them.

Still, when traveling alone, a necessary degree of vigilance was essential, so Lucius had included it in his assessment.

"So it was that old man John. Figures."

Novia replied as though it were exactly what he had expected.

No wonder that guy had only asked one question and then stopped caring. He had already arranged a roadblock.

"How did you guess?"

"How did I guess?"

Novia sighed. "No matter how much money I offered, you refused. You were so nervous about it too. At present, along the Mediterranean coast, there's only one answer obvious enough to have that kind of influence."

Before an era developed to a certain point, religious faith was the most widespread force for uniting people.

"And isn't it normal to keep one's distance from strangers? Please be careful. Acting overly familiar for no reason can easily make people wary."

"Haha, you're right. I'll keep that in mind."

The twisted cross-shaped scar left on Lucius's left cheek was impossible for Novia to ignore.

However, Novia was now wholly focused on recalling his clash with Lucius. He had already keenly realized that Lucius had truly held back considerably just now. If they faced each other head-on, with both sides fully prepared, the best he could manage would be a draw.

Terrifying combat skill and strength—not to mention that he had yet to bring out the Spear of Longinus, stained with holy blood. No matter how one looked at it, that was a truly renowned weapon...

Time passed peacefully, and while Novia was lost in thought, the fishing boat smoothly reached the opposite shore.

"We're here, kid. You can get off now. Remember to be careful. Don't go dying on me."

Novia came back to himself. Before him stretched a vast expanse of shallow sea from the shore into the distance, beautiful as jewels beneath the moonlight.

"Aren't you curious how I know your name?"

After the boat docked, Novia stepped ashore and asked Lucius.

"It's just a name. They're all the same."

Lucius grinned. After a brief silence, he picked up his hat and lowered his head, preparing to return, as casually as if he had run into an old friend by the roadside.

But Novia had already made up his mind. He had to bring Lucius onto his side and prepare for his future plans concerning the Roman Praetorian Guard.

"I can cure your Biting Pain."

"How do you know about that...?"

The instant Novia spoke, Lucius was already standing before him. His expression was grave, and none of his earlier gentleness remained.

Knowing his name was one thing—perhaps John and the others had told him—but he had never told anyone about this pain, nor had he ever expected a solution!

Seeing Lucius's reaction, Novia breathed a sigh of relief. His guess had been right after all.

According to the apocryphal Letter of Herod to Pilate, Lucius suffered divine punishment for piercing Jesus's side. He was placed in a cave, where every night he would experience the Biting Pain until dawn, over and over again, until the end of time.

But the Moon's history did not necessarily follow that account. Still, when Novia had fought Lucius, he noticed the tension in Lucius's neck muscles, as though he were uncomfortable.

Coupled with various signs, such as the slight lift of his brows and the faint tightening of his jaw, Novia made a bold deduction—

Lucius was enduring pain!

Judging from his reaction now, that was indeed the case.

"Though I don't know why you know, I don't actually care about the pain." Lucius grinned again and touched the old wound on his cheek, stark as a cross. "Why do you think I never removed this scar? I deliberately left it behind so I would not forget the pain. It has already become a part of my body. The Biting Pain is the same."

Good grief, so you really couldn't be swayed. You loved pain that much.

Still, although Lucius seemed impossible to persuade, Novia had another way—

"But this pain is proof that you humiliated a righteous man."

Novia went straight to the point. After all, Lucius was a saint whose name had been passed down through the ages. Having personally had his failing eyesight healed by Jesus's blood, he undoubtedly held firm faith in his beliefs.

"Even if you're young, you can't just say things like that."

Lucius's tone remained calm, but he did not conceal his anger in the slightest.

"But you're trembling. That proves you truly fear this. That is precisely why I came, Lucius Longinus."

Novia placed a hand on Lucius's tense shoulder. Lucius did not move at all, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Novia.

To Lucius, pain was the "answer."

He had always believed that his pain was the answer to repaying salvation.

Other people's answers were as numerous as the stars in the sky, but Lucius had only one answer: enduring pain.

The salvation of the new gods had not descended upon the earth, while the old gods had vanished many years ago.

The earth was still filled with death and suffering. The people were exhausted, children cried endlessly, and to be alive was to suffer.

It was easy enough to speak beautiful words about looking toward the future, but truly teaching such things was incomparably difficult.

Some called it a curse; others sighed that the age belonging to humanity was the true hell.

So Lucius could only endure the pain and keep praying.

Yet the silver-haired youth before him kept telling him with those pale blue eyes, his words shining as brilliantly as the stars.

"Of course. Life exists to be brought to completion. No matter how one lives, one day it will end—for me and for you. But—can what you are doing now truly be called a beautiful pattern of completion?"

Hearing this, Lucius felt as though someone had poured cold water over him in the midst of a fierce battle, leaving his whole body weak and drained.

"There is only one thing I can tell you."

No magic was used, yet his voice resounded through the surroundings.

"I promise you, Lucius Longinus—follow me, and by granting all glory, you will surely wash away your present sins... That is all."

His pain had been laid bare by someone he had met only once. Without a doubt, Lucius could feel the sincere prayer poured into those words.

And so, as if possessed, Lucius Longinus nodded.

"...All right. I am Lucius Longinus. Your name seems to be Nov—"

"Novia. That is my name."

To Create Miracles with Science

In the year 48 AD, beside the Adriatic Sea in the ancient Roman Empire.

After a year of arduous travel, they were finally about to reach Rome, the greatest city!

At noon, Lucius leaned against a tree some distance away from Novia, watching the silver-haired youth with steady eyes.

Amid scenery like a pastoral song, the shadows of villagers waiting in line stretched across the fields.

"Your god of faith has seen you. You and your family will surely receive salvation."

"R-Really?"

"Of course. But you must understand: all believers are friends. Those with strength must care for those without it."

Novia chatted amiably with the wealthy while gently distributing donated grain to the people in line.

Over the past year, Lucius had witnessed Novia's personal abilities many times. The fact that he could actually make these people willingly donate grain left him utterly speechless.

When Lucius had still been a youth, he had encountered bandits outside Rome. Though he had barely managed to drive them off, one of them was so badly wounded by Lucius that he could never walk again, eventually becoming a beggar.

Whenever Lucius passed through the streets, he would see that beggar and feel terribly guilty.

Later, the bandit fell ill. Because others cared for him, he abandoned his former faith in the Roman gods and converted to a monotheistic religion whose believers had slowly been growing in number at the time, unexpectedly becoming a believer before Lucius did.

But back then, its followers had basically all been poor people. It was nothing like now, when even the wealthy were joining in droves.

Naturally. Though the Age of Gods had only passed a few decades ago, humans were ultimately fickle creatures. Roman polytheism did not dictate how humanity should live; it merely assisted those who did their best. Therefore, it was far from perfect.

In monotheism, however, the relationship between humans and gods was completely reversed. Gods changed from humanity's assistants into supreme authorities—the source of law, morality, and order, beings beyond doubt. Humans had to live according to God's instructions, which also made them easier to govern.

In an era like this, as long as one dared to believe, a hidden set of rules would take root in one's heart. After all, the gods had not been gone from the earth for very long.

That was also why Novia dared to spread his faith all the way here. The Age of Gods was already over—could you still call your Greek-Roman gods over to beat me up?

And compared to Roman polytheism, he was actually doing practical work. His path of expansion was the classic strategy of surrounding the cities from the countryside, and the nobles from the lower classes.

The reason Christianity defeated polytheism in the original history was not because everyone had silver tongues and their own Yuri aura. It was because it was more centralized, able to send people out to collect money—and use that money to pour grain into the pots of the poor.

He could learn from the rites at the Temple of Athena, but he could not stop the chief priest in Apollo's district from keeping a Saintess. He might hold out, only to turn around and find Apollo's district had fallen.

Things were still somewhat unstable for now. The only requirement for joining was that wealthy believers donated money to the church, which would use it on believers at the bottom who had no money. If everyone was poor and had nothing, then the believers still had to organize mutual support. If someone fell ill and had no one to care for them, other believers would care for them.

If someone had nothing to eat and was about to starve to death, believers with extra grain who were willing would share a mouthful so they would not die of hunger.

As for theology? Philosophy? Religious rites? Sorry, none of that existed when Jesus was alive. Educated believers would naturally interpret all that stuff for themselves later.

But no matter whether an era was prosperous or not, the poor would always be the majority. They did not care about lofty philosophical theories or theological systems. All they cared about was this: if I give you a certain amount of wheat, olive oil, and wine every month, then when I grow old, the church will give me wheat, olive oil, and wine every month so I will not starve to death. That was enough.

So even though the ancient Roman Empire in the original history had driven out and slaughtered Christians everywhere, it eventually discovered that this grassroots religion simply could not be suppressed. Kill one group today, and another would spring up somewhere else tomorrow. After killing and killing, in the end—

Christians entered Rome!

Even the emperors began believing in God!

So long as the foundation was laid, even if it did not succeed now, things would be easier in the future.

"Th-Thank you, sir. A gift from God."

"Mm. Then take a little more."

At that moment, Novia held a young child in his arms.

This was a genuinely impoverished child. Novia understood clearly that malnutrition, skin stretched over bones, a dirt-smudged face, gaunt features, tattered clothes, and lifeless eyes made such children instantly distinguishable from the fair, round little faces of children from wealthy families.

The vast ancient Roman Empire had enjoyed several decades of peace and prosperity amid song and dance. From the crowded semicircular amphitheaters of Eboracum to the bustling colonnaded squares of Antioch, from the harbor markets packed with Yor's merchant ships to the pilgrimage avenues of Ephesus overflowing with carriages and horses, prosperous people wholeheartedly enjoyed the abundance brought by this peaceful age. Merchants and travelers crisscrossed broad cobblestone avenues, while citizens laughed and played among rows upon rows of marble apartments.

But poverty was, in the end, the majority throughout this era that would continue for many years.

"R-Really? Even if I have to die, it's okay... My little sister, Mom, Dad... they're still waiting..."

"If they are waiting, then hurry back. Don't make them worry."

Novia stroked the child's face. After that, the child's vacant expression seemed to become a little more peaceful.

"Thank you..."

What flowed from the child's lips was not a prayer, but merely a word born of boundless gratitude.

Once everything was over, and after declining the believers' invitation, Novia headed toward Lucius.

Lucius, who had been watching from the side all along, looked like a soldier himself. Combined with the aura he gave off, no one dared approach him casually or strike up a conversation.

"You've done well this past year." Lucius fell silent for a moment before saying coldly, "But in the end, when danger comes, you can only face it yourself. Sooner or later, this will become unavoidable. It's pointless. You're too dangerous now. I advise you to go back at once."

Novia understood exactly what he meant. The current era only appeared peaceful. If things truly turned bad, then to survive, one would have to kill those who threatened them, even if they were fellow believers.

Moreover, Novia had drawn too much attention. Over the past year, his reputation had spread farther and farther. Though the polytheists were tolerant of other faiths spreading, that was only so long as those faiths could not replace them. At present, some of the polytheist nobles in Rome were likely waiting for Claudius I to return from Britain so they could demand Novia's execution.

"You're right. But if I turned a blind eye to something that only took a little effort, I'd regret it for the rest of my life. I offered help because I didn't want to regret it. That's all."

There was no anger, no denial. Novia merely smiled calmly. He wore plain clothes, with the white outer garment he had taken off folded over his arm.

"Hmph, brat. Once you reach Rome, those people won't be nearly so easy to talk to."

Lucius sighed. He hoped this young man could live out his natural lifespan, rather than suffer under the punishment of heretics.

"Exactly. So I'll have to trouble you, Lucius, to stay outside Rome a little longer. I'm going to Britain first."

Novia accepted Lucius's angry words without hesitation.

"You—"

Lucius's heart trembled, while Novia's illusory figure before him answered with utter decisiveness.

"Fourteen days ago. If nothing went wrong, I should be in Britain by now."

Lucius sucked in a breath. Not even the druids of old had possessed illusion magic of this level. It had even deceived his eyes, touched by holy blood.

But his expression quickly calmed. Turning his head aside as though he had heard nothing, he said:

"You want Emperor Claudius to convert? That's too difficult. The Roman Gods have been right above their heads for decades."