Several dozen minutes later.
Within the holy city of the Bloody King Church.
Those millions, tens of millions, and even greater numbers of believers had long since gathered together.
They looked like marching ants, filling every corner of every area near Central Plaza.
It could be said that—
If one stood high in the sky and looked out, aside from the areas reserved for the Bloody King Church's internal members, every other place was already packed wall to wall with people.
If flight had not been forbidden here.
Perhaps.
Even the sky would have been crammed full of people.
After all, as an Extraordinary Race born with Psionics.
Even the most basic spells were hardly a problem.
Even ordinary Gith civilians, the basic civilian units, knew a trick or two.
In this regard.
The universal education promoted by the Bloody King Church was itself an advantage.
Even if it only taught basic knowledge.
It was enough to make countless commoners and even professionals in the World of Toril drool with envy.
Over there, spells were exceedingly expensive knowledge!
They simply could not be popularized on a large scale!
Even at the Netheril Empire's most prosperous peak, it had been the same!
Now, as time passed.
Within the enormous plaza.
The ever-growing crowd looked at the Scorching Sun overhead, then at the time indicated by the mechanical clock at the very top of the plaza.
Faced with the Pope, who had yet to show himself after so long, though they did not dare speak rashly.
Certain words still began to spread unconsciously:
"Why hasn't His Holiness appeared yet?"
"Did something happen to him?"
"Or has some problem arisen within the Church?"
"The speech before the Grand Festival has been a Church tradition for over a thousand years. There has never been