How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 33: Worship

Francis Bacon, an ambitious politician and brilliant philosopher, had deeply despised Aristotle's philosophy since his college days.

Aristotle sought to find logical answers based on immutable truths, but could new knowledge be discovered that way?

Humans die. Socrates is human. Therefore, Socrates dies. Is the fact that Socrates dies so new and valuable?

No.

Universal truths are not obtained by engaging in logical wordplay on such general propositions. One must move gradually towards truth through careful experimentation and verification from individual facts.

Plato died, Socrates died, and Aristotle died. By confirming these individual facts, we can move towards the truth that "all humans die."

That was his belief.

And at this moment, Bacon's belief approached him as an ironic metaphor.

The "servants" that Robert Devereux had assigned to him each took out a dagger from their clothes and approached the Indian Emperor.

And once, they stabbed his heart.

Once more, they stabbed his abdomen.

Once, they slashed near his throat.

Once, they pierced near his thigh.

Thus, systematic individual strikes lead him to the final and universal state of death.

Through thorough and careful verification and re-verification, the assassins confirm his death.

Bacon's face turns pale. From this situation, he could recall several facts.

Evidence 1: His patron, Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, was very reluctant for him to come here. Because it seemed like he was trying to align himself with Walter Raleigh, a rising star.

Evidence 2: His patron has a very narrow vision and hasty temperament, stopping at nothing. And in the process, he often does incredibly stupid things. Someone whose abilities cannot support his ambitions, so to speak.

Evidence 3: His patron has overflowing reasons to want to ruin Walter Raleigh's colony.

Therefore, conclusion:

The Earl of Essex sent assassins intending to screw over Bacon himself and Sir Raleigh. Even though having assassins accompany his close associate would naturally cast suspicion on himself.

Bacon's face turns pale.

His lips tremble, and the impending doom draws in his mind. Traitor, madman who led the American colonial enterprise to ruin, Spanish spy...

It's over.

With the death of the Indian Emperor, his dreamed-of brilliant political life also ends...

...

...

...

Oh, my goodness.

Bacon unwittingly collapsed as his legs gave way.

Socrates died. Cause: Consumption of poison.

Plato also died. Cause: Natural death.

Aristotle also died. Cause: Stomach disease.

Therefore, all humans die. This was a truth forged through thousands of years of observation and experience.

And.

The native emperor before his eyes did not die.

The wounds that had been hacked open were being closed again, with severed blood vessels and muscles reattaching as they were originally.

Lost blood is replenished, and the face that had been turning pale regains its color.

He came back to life.

Therefore, from this 'individual fact,' Bacon could draw one of two conclusions.

Either not all humans necessarily experience death.

Or...

The being before his eyes is not human.

Bacon chose the latter conclusion.

==

Looking around.

Thousands of people watch one man.

Various emotions arise on each of their faces. Relief, or awe...

And.

Clang.

The assassins who just dropped their weapons show shock and fear on their faces. As the man takes one step toward them, they take two steps back from him.

It's a funny thing. There are more than half a dozen of them, while the man is unarmed and alone.

The man smiled faintly at them.

"Have you forgotten that the commandment says, 'You shall not murder'?"

"...Uh, aah"

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As he said this and again approached a step closer, this time no one could speak.

"If you know your sins, will you repent?

How could you not recognize the Lord's people and commit such evil?"

"De...vil..."

"I cannot understand why you call me a devil. I have never harmed you, nor will I."

At that moment.

Everyone who heard the man's voice froze. The natives and the English look at each other's expressions, astonished that they all understood the man's words.

"Do not run away. You cannot escape from the Lord's justice. Let me give you a chance to repent..."

"Uh, uuuuh, uwaaaaah!"

The assassins frantically stab the man with knives again.

The fake servants, fake cleaners... all sorts of fakes, as if there's no reason to hide anymore, pick up other knives and weapons they had hidden and attack the man.

Only one person, the fake shoe polisher, stops in fear.

Except for him, all the assassins now stop at nothing to kill the man. The being before them just performed an illusion. Therefore, he must die. Or he's an evil devil, so he must be killed.

But despite the endless stabbing, the man does not fall.

At first, the spectators who didn't understand what was happening gradually comprehend the situation and turn pale. However, more terrified than anyone else were the assassins themselves.

He must die.

But he does not die.

He must be killed.

But he does not die.

Then, if he truly does not die...

If he's neither performing an illusion nor a devil.

What does that make them who tried to kill such a being?

"...Huh?"

Someone who has reached this realization suddenly stops their futile knife attack.

Others also slowly... lower their hands holding knives.

Then the man speaks.

"Still... you are sons of the Lord... Heaven has not fled from your hearts."

At those words, their movements completely cease.

The more brightly his mercy shines, the darker they feel the shadow they bear on their backs. Looking around, everyone sheds tears at his radiance, but only they bear the shadow.

They feel the weight of their recent sin is heavier than a thousand gold pieces. They felt as if they would be crushed by the weight of that sin.

Finally, one of the assassins slits his own throat. There was no time for the man to stop him.

And that became the signal.

Slash! Chop!

The assassins who had been standing motionless, as if they had come to their senses one by one, stab and slash their own throats to commit suicide. It was likely to conceal their backers.

And only one man dressed as a shoe polisher remains. His fingertips were trembling noticeably to the man's eyes.

Slash!

But after hesitation, he too chooses the same fate as his other colleagues. He slits his thro...

Clank.

"Kuh, kuhuh, kuck... kuheock...!"

...No.

Unfortunately for him, it seems he lacked the courage to choose death. The fake shoe polisher's knife pierced halfway through his throat and then stopped, falling to the ground as his hand lost strength. Clang.

And the fake shoe polisher's body staggers and collapses. The man quickly rushes over to support his head from hitting the ground.

The fake shoe polisher sputters, spurting blood from his throat like a fountain. He looks up at the man with trembling eyes.

"Sinner, will you repent?"

The man spoke to the fake shoe polisher. But the man's words were not heard by him alone; they resonated with a certain power to everyone around.

Those who were still standing quickly kneel and wail. Amid the wailing sounds echoing from all directions, the fake shoe polisher nods.

"Do you wish for the pain to be eased?"

Again, a nod.

The man picks up the assassin's knife from the ground and plunges it into his throat. The fake shoe polisher trembles once and then goes limp.

His expression was peaceful.

His soul seemed to have departed to the Lord's side.

"..."

"..."

"..."

A strange silence resonates throughout the area.

The occasional bursts of wailing and crying didn't break the silence but made it deeper. It seemed no one could break this sacred silence.

Everyone saw it.

They saw a man rising from death.

They saw a man who urged repentance to those who tried to kill him, and who tried to save their souls to the end, even as they tried to escape through death.

All Christians present unconsciously mumble the Lord's Prayer and hymns. Those who do not know the Lord sing their own sacred songs, showing reverence to the being before them.

The man, for a long time... looks down at the fake shoe polisher's face, then lays his body on the ground and closes his eyes. As the man stands up, a woman suddenly rises and speaks.

"Th-th-that person is behind this! All those men with knives, he brought them all!"

"That's right...! I saw it too! I saw that Member of Parliament giving orders to those servants!"

Murmurs arise as the crowd parts. A path forms between the man and that 'Member of Parliament' standing on the dock.

A man with a seemingly timid impression trembles, dripping cold sweat and tears. He freezes, not daring to think of escape, as the man approaches him.

And, the moment the man approaches and opens his mouth...

"It, it, it wasn't me..."

The Member of Parliament flails and staggers as if falling from the sky.

"I, I, it wasn't m... Please! It wasn't me! I didn't... know anything...!"

Eyes filled with fear, the Member of Parliament collapses as his legs give way. And instinctively, he jumps off the dock.

Splash!

While people are perplexed by the Member of Parliament's sudden outburst, the man suddenly starts running. Running, he dives without hesitation into the water where the Member of Parliament has sunk.

And.

After a few air bubbles burst out...

A man walks back to the shore.

He emerges dragging the Member of Parliament who had just attempted suicide.

As the Member of Parliament trembles with cold and fear, the man whispers.

"Fear not."

"..."

"The Lord's mercy is like sunshine, supremely noble yet given freely."

Only then does the Member of Parliament burst into tears.

And the people kneel.

Their number was 7,344.

==

Thomas Harriot 'hears.'

He hears the voice of a man speaking in countless languages. No, can one say they 'hear' this? Can one say they hear with one person's ears the sound coming from one person's mouth?

Like a chorus, sentences in many heterogeneous languages intertwine, tied firmly into one meaning and bound tightly in one harmony, penetrating his mind.

"...Sir Raleigh?"

Sir Raleigh was already kneeling, trembling all over, and offering prayers. Though surprise could be read on his face, neither fear nor bewilderment was visible.

"A real angel... just seeing one brings a moment where you can't help but be convinced."

He had already seen it once.

He had seen the 'angel.'

Thomas Harriot sees.

He sees a man who bestowed mercy on his would-be killers and saved someone trying to escape through death.

Just as he walked out from the seashore now, he walked steadily out from death and stood before Harriot and the crowd.

He watched everyone in silence.

Eyes that seemed to pierce through.

Thomas Harriot had said that because humans are foolish and covered in greed, they would not recognize an angel even if they saw one.

Thomas Harriot had also said that he would remain an atheist even after seeing an angel and would demand explanations while pointing out the Bible's numerous errors.

At this moment, no such explanations came to mind.

He felt nothing but shame.

"Such a moment comes, I'm saying."

I... knew nothing.

"A moment that erases all doubts in your heart and makes you absolutely certain that the being before you is truly a holy celestial being."

Truly... I spoke arrogantly while knowing nothing.

Each word of Sir Raleigh's is deeply etched in his heart. He watches the 'angel' wandering among the crowd, not even blinking or breathing.

Yes. He is an angel.

He is an atheist. Because he pursued truth, he did not abandon his beliefs even at the risk of the executioner's block.

He was an atheist. Because he pursued truth that was unwavering, free from deception, oppression, and fear.

And he saw the truth he so desperately wanted.

He saw the naked truth tearing through all the deception, violence, distortion, and oppression created by humans.

It wasn't just because a man didn't die even when stabbed with a knife, and stabbed again. There was a greater miracle than such trivial and insignificant marvels.

The man was the angel of the assassins who tried to kill him, and the angel of the Member of Parliament who tried to escape through suicide.

He was an angel who revealed his nobility for all the ugly, cowardly, and base things on earth.

This is the truth.

And in that truth, Harriot soon saw that there was light.

"...Sir Raleigh, you were right."

Sometimes there is a truth that pierces through even human folly and greed.

He knelt.

Thomas Harriot, who had converted, knelt before the angel.