Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 21 Clinical Analysis

Chapter 21 Clinical Analysis (Part 2)

“I’m sorry,” Siron said coldly, “I have no right to represent God, nor the church. I cannot forgive you, nor can I give you an answer.”

Aldridge looked up abruptly, his eyes filled with hatred.

After finishing his story, he finally revealed his true emotions.

“Are you going to deny these things?” he said through gritted teeth. “Bishop Delland, I admit you are a good priest, but the Church is not as holy and good as you imagine.”

“I do not deny the church’s sins,” Celan said. “What I deny are your accusations against the church.”

Aldridge angrily demanded, "Did I say something wrong?"

“Historically speaking, it’s not wrong, but for you, it is wrong.” Celen looked at him calmly. “So right now, sitting across from me, listening to my confession, is it a historical record, or Aldridge?”

“You…” Aldridge couldn’t understand.

"The crime has already occurred, it is undeniable, but what good is it to angrily accuse the Church, to express it with your entire life, with all your actions, expressions and words? The target of your accusation is a fictitious entity, one you cannot even find in reality. Who can represent the Church you want to accuse? The Pope? The College of Cardinals? Or a collection of your imagined concepts of 'Church'?"

Aldridge fell silent, sadly realizing that he truly couldn't find his purpose.

He had just treated Siron as a representative of the Church, but Siron rejected this illusion. As for the Pope? The College of Cardinals? Not to mention that he had no way of contacting those people, even if he did, could he really fulfill his long-cherished wish by hurling a few insults?

Or is hurling insults considered revenge? Or is killing the Pope considered revenge? Or destroying the Church considered revenge? Or is forcing them to ban the use of steel angels considered revenge?
He then realized that for forty years, he had been tormented by pain, fantasizing about his revenge and the collapse of the church, but he had never had a program or goal that could be implemented in reality.

Therefore, his anger was limited to his imagination. He imagined a personified collective called the "Church," and then accused it in his imagination, thus trapping himself in this place.

“You tied all your meaning to the church, so when it collapsed, your meaning collapsed with it,” Siron said.

“But your significance is not subordinate to the significance of the church, just as my actions cannot be equated with the actions of the church. We are first and foremost ourselves, and only then do we have a certain identity.”

"Or to put it more simply—what did you want to create before you created the Iron Angel? What were you thinking when you were studying those runes?"

Aldridge sat there, lost in thought.

He recalled his parents as devout believers, the expectant looks in their eyes when he went to the Pontifical College, the affirmation from his teachers, and the trust from the clergy. He built his worldview and ideals from these voices. He wanted to create better works to show how beautiful the world God created was, or to make the world more like the promised time.

He didn't answer, but Xilen knew he had thought a lot about it.

Siren's voice seemed to come from beyond the heavens: "All the sins have already occurred, but the church has also disappeared in the end times. Even if you use your own suffering as evidence, you have no court to sue. You actually already know who is right and who is wrong, right? But what you lack is meaning, the meaning of living."

Aldridge looked at his hands. In the past forty years, he had hardly touched runes. He hated his work and the church, but he couldn't deny that he loved this cause. It was his talent and the meaning of his life.

“Eldridge.” Celen walked over, took his hands, and looked at him intently.

"Forgiving sins is just self-deception. The important thing is, after committing irreparable sins, who are you? What do you still want?"

"History has already entered the books, recording the grand wars and the glory of the victors, but no one cares about the cries of the dead. But you remember, you have remembered for forty years—and you will continue to remember. You remember how much damage the technology used in war can cause, you remember the collapse of sacred maxims due to betrayal. If you forget, then they may really cease to exist, those who died in the flames of war, those dwarves who were slaughtered."

“So you can’t forget, you must always remember them. You heard those cries from history, didn’t you? Those were the cries of the defeated and the oppressed. They were powerless, but if the people of today hear them and take responsibility and faith in them, so that what has happened will not happen again, then their cries shine in your hands now.” “Eldridge.” Celen gripped his hand tightly. “Please—continue to suffer. Your dreams, your memories, your hatred and guilt cannot fade, and I will never forgive you. You must continue like this until you die. It is your responsibility. You must use your technology to create a heaven on earth, swear the ideals you endorse, and then remember those sins with all your might, making sure that neither you nor I will ever repeat them.”

"As Beaumont and Fletcher said: Fashions that have been popular will become popular again. People will commit the same sins again, but as long as you are here, they will not be repeated."

Aldridge had never imagined the Church would say such things to him, but his mind seemed to be "revelated" by the scriptures, and at this moment, divine meaning descended upon him once again.

He is not an empty, church-provided incriminating symbol, nor a painful mirror reflecting the sins of others, but a subject bearing a heavy history, who seeks to prevent the recurrence of crime through his own existence.

He was still in pain, still remembered the evil of the church, but all those tangled desires were reshaped in Siron's words, infused with new life and vitality.

His pain remained pain, but that pain inexplicably became the meaning and irrefutable proof of his existence.

He still hated the church, but he made himself a gatekeeper to prevent sin from happening again.

Xilun withdrew his hand and wiped away non-existent sweat.

The psychoanalyst does not inject new meaning into the client; he simply strips away the falsehoods and imaginations, allowing the client to see themselves clearly and move on on their own.

But he was also a bishop, and out of personal motives, he had to ensure that the rune master was on his side and did not completely lose faith in the church. Therefore, he invoked historical materialism, turning the pain into responsibility and recognition for the "innocent dead of the past".

Responsibility is painful, but it is also the meaning that sustains people's desires and drives them forward.

This was the first time Celen had done this, and it was a huge risk, but he had to keep Eldridge.

“Schneider contacted me,” Aldridge suddenly said.

"Who?" Xilun asked blankly.

"Minister of Publicity, and advisor to Raine."

"So... he wants to pull you to his side?"

"Yes, they found my file and know that I hate the church."

Xilun smiled and said, "So you came here earlier to say goodbye?"

Aldridge smiled and said, "I was planning to, but you're a good priest, so I'm giving you a chance."

"Did I make good use of this opportunity?" Xilun blinked.

“You don’t seem like a religious person at all,” Aldridge laughed.

"This is probably the highest praise you could receive."