Estalia

Just Pope

Overview

A female saint that materialized from the fervent prayers of the faithful, she emerged from an impoverished district in the Holy Theocracy of Jancis. Her prodigious water magic is ever at the disposal of those in need, garnering the veneration of the people. In the uprising against the decaying ecclesiasticism, Estaria was exalted to the papacy.

Chapter One

(18066–18093, Era of Frost Veil) Born in the slums, Es, who possesses an extraordinary magical talent. As a child, Es believed in the divine spirit, with a compassionate heart. Since learning magic, she devoted herself to helping others. On a rainy day, 11-year-old Es ran along the ruined streets, following the adults around her. Her bare feet were covered in mud, quickly washed off by the downpour. Puddles in the road were dangerous, the muddy water hiding what lay beneath. In her haste, Es tried to avoid the puddles as best as she could, but in the heavy rain, she still accidentally stepped into a small puddle. "Ugh..." Es let out a muffled cry of pain. A sharp object had pierced her foot. She pulled the shard out and didn't stop for a moment, stumbling forward, running ahead. The adults around her couldn't bear to watch. A woman in torn clothes picked up young Es. "Please, heal yourself now. I'll take you to the others!" The woman said. "Saintess, your power is crucial..."Es nodded as her aqua magic washed away the blood, gradually healing her wound. After healing herself, the adults had brought her to a grass hut. "No... Lady, please hold on a little longer, the Saintess will be here soon..."A voice full of sorrow reached Es' ears. She jumped from the woman's arms and ran into the hut. Inside the grass hut, the smell of blood filled the air. A woman, just after childbirth, lay weakly on the straw, blood flowing out from under her clothes. A man cradled the baby and held his wife's hand, desperately calling her name to revive her fading breath. When Es entered, the man's eyes lit up with hope. "Saintess, please save her..."Seeing the desperate man, Es crouched in the hut and nodded, her steady, reassuring voice carrying a convincing power. "Leave it to me." A soft, pale blue light illuminated the grass hut, and gentle magic enveloped the near-death woman. Es patiently fought against death, her delicate fingers gently pulling the fleeting life back. Finally, the bright red blood stopped pouring from the woman's body. "It's done. She needs to rest now, and more nourishment. Otherwise, there will still be lingering effects." Es instructed seriously to the man, who was in tears of joy. The man nodded repeatedly and knelt to Es, bowing in gratitude. "Thank you so much, Saintess! I don't know how to thank you enough..." said the man."You don't need to thank me. Your sister brought me here just in time." Es shook her head, walking out of the hut to leave the space for the family inside. The rain was still falling. Es wrapped herself tighter in her soaked cloth. Her steps weren't as urgent as before, without a life about to expire pushing her onward. She avoided every little puddle and continued down the muddy road. Suddenly, the rain stopped, and a pair of feet appeared. Feet that clearly shouldn't belong to someone in the slums, wearing pristine white boots. "Are you the Saintess of the slums?" A woman in simple, sacred attire, a member of the Holy Theocracy's clergy, stood in the rain with an umbrella, looking down at Es. Her light gray curls fluttered gently like smoke in the wind and rain. "Saintess is just a joke that everyone calls me, please don't take it seriously." Es responded cautiously. She couldn't understand why a high-ranking Church member would seek her out; it seemed the only explanation. The woman shook her head. "I'm Felgana, a Battle Nun. I've heard of your deeds for a long time. Constantly healing the suffering, selflessly spreading virtue, and transforming the chaos of the slums.. Ms. Es, you truly deserve the title of Saintess." "Sister, such a prestigious title is more than I can bear...""May I ask, would you be willing... to help the entire Holy Theocracy?" "Shouldn't you be protecting the Cardinals? Why choose me?" "I pledge my loyalty to the Holy Theocracy, not to any one person. I believe you can restore this country to its former glory." "..."That simple, ordinary vision touched young Es' heart. That day, destiny turned, setting a new chapter in motion for the Holy Theocracy.

Chapter Two

A part of the Church's internal faction supported the turmoil, but the chaos didn't last long. During this unrest, Es continued to gain the support of the people. She took on a new name, born of common blood—Saintess Estaria, the 124th Pope of the Holy Theocracy, rising to the pinnacle of power. Before her ascension, Estaria had learned much from the church's supporters, but upon assuming the papacy, she found it insufficient. And the papacy wasn't what she imagined—she couldn't speak directly with the gods. What guided her wasn't divine will, but her own beliefs, learned from the church's teachings. Though Estaria acted upon her own conviction, she believed it was the will of the gods. She believed in a pure, loving, omniscient divine spirit, and followed that image with unwavering faith. Guided by her vision, she gave speeches, urging the clergy to step outside the church. The Holy Theocracy, already hollowed out, needed time to be restored, let alone flourish. Despite a few talents in governance, they were but a drop in the ocean of the Church's complexity. Estaria knew this was a long journey, one she might spend her life to complete. Her simple wish was for people to live well. Such a simple desire proved more difficult than she could have imagined. Yet, despite the hardships, Estaria had no regrets. When exhaustion weighed her down, she would secretly leave the church in a cloak, observing the people as a commoner. Their smiles became her strength, their cries only solidifying her resolve. One year, five years, ten years… Time flowed. Estaria's passion remained unwavering, as she built her sacred Holy Theocracy. After the corruption was purged, scholars emerged, and craftsmen were freed from futile tasks to focus on public works. The people, in the process of rebuilding, found new chances, no longer sinking into laziness and confusion. With Estaria's efforts, the material wealth of the land grew and her original dream began to come true. Her story became a song sung in praise, surpassing any pope before her, as the "Divine Principle Estaria" became a legendary figure. But Estaria did not care for the praise. One day, a young, accomplished nun declined a reward and requested to meet the Pope. She wished to speak to the devout follower of Lord Deity. "Do you remember, Your Eminence? Many years ago, you saved my mother..."The nun appeared nervous, her heart racing with excitement and anxiety. Estaria didn't remember the woman, for she had saved many. But the Pope still had work to do, so she made tea for the anxious nun. "Do not worry. I have reserved an hour for you. Take your time." As the nun stammered through her tale, Estaria recalled a distant, rainy day—a frail baby. Estaria felt a wave of nostalgia and profound joy: Her past kindness had guided others forward. For her, that was worth more than a thousand canticles.

Chapter Three

The Divine Dragon was Jancis, who birthed the dragons and cursed his followers with years of suffering. "This truth sparked a storm across the continent, starting with the Holy Theocracy." For the first time in ages, Estaria found herself gripped by uncertainty. Jancis was a real god—whether through faith or divine retribution, she could not simply sever her ties with the god of the Holy Theocracy. Yet, she could not bring herself to side with the Dividraggon Kingdom either. In such a critical moment, she struggled to find a path toward a brighter future, but every direction seemed to lead only into darkness. As Estaria hesitated, Mirren's kingdoms quietly cut ties with the Holy Theocracy, causing economic decline. What once thrived on trade and donations from believers now faced a swift and devastating collapse. Though no one spoke it aloud, the Holy Theocracy had effectively been sealed off by the other nations. Many in the Church had quietly fled, and the decrees of the Holy Theocracy no longer carried the weight they once did. For many of the clergy, faith crumbled, and they either chose death or stumbled through life in a daze. Some still believed the god had a greater plan and, as servants of Jancis, felt compelled to accept divine will and let the dragons rule. But few could maintain their rationality in the wake of such a devastating loss of faith. Estaria watched it all, her heart heavy with anxiety and sorrow. Yet to the outside world, Estaria remained as calm and composed as ever. She swiftly took measures to stabilize the Holy Theocracy and temporarily hold back the storm. The Pope's authority still commanded respect, but Estaria knew faith had shattered, and the storm would soon tear the Theocracy apart. Jancis, the very goddesses upon whom the Church was built, had become an undeniable force of evil. A church worshipping an evil god—no matter how much Estaria reshaped it—could hardly survive amidst the growing suspicion and hatred of the people. After seventeen years, the Holy Theocracy was regaining its footing. Estaria was committed to protecting the people as their lives began to flourish. For this goal, she had already sacrificed nearly seventeen years and was willing to sacrifice even more. She sent letters abroad to negotiate refugee acceptance and connect with rational believers at home. If destruction was inevitable, she would at least spare the innocent. Once negotiations neared completion, she gathered her trusted subordinates to share her final plan. She would barter with foreign powers, trading knowledge and wealth for the survival of the Holy Theocracy's refugees. With the Pope's fall, Estaria would free the people, allowing those who wished to leave to seek new lives, while those who stayed would no longer be seen as a threat. When discussing her own death, Estaria expected fear, but instead felt a profound calm in response to her subordinates' shocked objections. Though Estaria had lost her faith, her path ahead was clear—a firm resolve to protect humanity, whatever the cost. "God's love for all," Estaria declared. "I will follow His will... to shield the people of the Holy Theocracy beneath this collapsing sky." A few days later, Estaria invited the pro-dragon clergy to a banquet in the Pope's Hall. This act stirred the flames of outrage among the people. Enraged citizens stormed the Church and attacked the Pope. After his allies were slain, the mob flooded the hall, finding the floor soaked in blood. All the clergy were dead, leaving only the Pope standing amidst the carnage. But this was not enough to quell the fury of the people. A faction called for the vile Pope to be bound in the square and burned alive. The flames purified the sins, and with this bloody uprising, the Church's history came to a fiery end. After the death of the 124th Pope, Estaria, the Holy Theocracy failed to elect a new Pope. The land lost its guiding leader, and the Kingdom began its slow decline. Yet the survivors held fast to their belief: hope still lay ahead. It existed just beyond the horizon. As long as they pressed forward... the living would find it. This they believed with unwavering conviction.

Historical Notes

Golden Moon Reformation: The movement started with the common folk, but discontent within the Church over its corruption quietly fueled a revolution that would reshape the land. Holy Chalice: An artifact, granted by Jancis himself, has been passed down through the ages within the Order of Jancis. Estaria, the former pope, held the Holy Chalice in her hands, but it vanished after her death. Years later, the Holy Chalice reappeared in the hands of the Lord Deity. The Slums: Initially, the Holy Theocracy had no slums, but corruption led to the emergence of areas abandoned by divine grace. Estaria was born in one of these districts, just a few years after its creation. Eleven years after Estaria ascended to the papacy, the slums were officially abolished.