Because Typhon's universal education project had in fact begun many years earlier than Cecil's. Though constrained by "having taken some detours," which meant they had not succeeded in this matter as well as Cecil had, the long accumulation was already enough for Luo Yan to have seen many of the "unexpected effects" of universal education.

Gao Rong smiled, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest of the sofa beside him. "Tavern scholars, parlor experts, folk academicians, paper philosophers. With one cup of wine they will discuss runes with you; with two cups they will discuss mathematics; with three cups down, they have the confidence to explain to you the fundamental laws of our world, and even dare to question every authority under heaven."

"That is the most brilliant assessment I have ever heard," Luo Yan said, first showing surprise, then unable to restrain the smile on his face. "But I must admit you have summed it up thoroughly. These people... are they the 'thinkers' you want?"

"Why not?" Gao Yang suddenly dropped the bantering tone and asked in complete earnest, "Are they not thinking?"

Luo Yan frowned instinctively. "They..."

"They are thinking. Though their thinking is not so accurate, no matter how many cups of wine they have downed, they have never once tried to attribute these questions to some transcendent and omnipotent god—because 'attributing all things to the omnipotence of the gods' is itself a behavior that runs counter to thinking. When they hold forth in taverns and alleys, they are also probing what they regard as 'knowledge,' not some precept handed down by a god. You may think these people shallow to the point of absurdity, but you should look: at least they are trying to understand this world with their own eyes, not with eyes bestowed by the gods.

"This is the greatest effect of the universal education and emancipation of thought I speak of—it cannot turn every person into a scholar, nor can it teach every person the correct logic of thought, but it can instill in every person this common sense: all things in the world can be explained by logic, and knowledge can change humanity's understanding of the world. On that foundation, they will think—and thinking itself... is the greatest shake to the gods."

Luo Yan's expression finally turned solemn as well. Guided by Gao Yang, he pondered questions he had never considered before—an angle he had never tried, as a born aristocrat and a ruler accustomed to looking down upon an entire empire.

At last he gradually understood Gao Song's intent and nodded slowly. "I think I understand now..."

"You do not yet fully understand," Gao Song said, leaning his upper body slightly forward and fixing his eyes on Luo Yan's. "Typhon's universal education has been underway for years. Though progress has been slow, the accumulation over the years must amount to a considerable base—but have you ever investigated the patterns behind those figures? Investigated the proportions of devout believers, shallow believers, and nominal believers among the population that has received literacy education? Investigated the influence of the churches in educationally developed regions versus underdeveloped ones? Investigated the frequency and response rates of divine dialogue between priests and gods in different regions? Have you done these investigations?"

"...No," Luo Yan shook his head after a brief pause. "I have never considered it from that direction."

"That is the problem. Typhon has done a great many things, even earlier than Cecil, but you have not systematized many of them," Gao Yang sighed. "Since we are now to enter the same Alliance, I am glad to offer you some help in this regard. Of course, correspondingly, I hope you will open up your data in this area—not to me, but to the Theocratic Council. It would be of vital help to our study of the mysteries of the gods."

"I think that will be no problem." Luo Yan agreed to Gao Song's request without much thought—as though he were entirely unaware of how enormous the value was of those unique "large-scale social data" accumulated over more than a decade and held by the royal house. This was not shallowness of thought or a moment's negligence, but rather that in this era, no one in the relevant fields had ever studied such things at all...

Gao Yan nodded, an earnest smile on his face.

Luo Yan, meanwhile, sank into thought; it was a full half minute before he broke the silence.

"So what the Theocratic Council is to do is not to openly attack any church, nor to spread any negative image of any god," Luo Yan said as he pondered. "The Theocratic Council itself will not 'declare war' on any deity."

"Yes. That will avoid accelerating the 'countdown' to the greatest extent possible, and ease the misgivings of many member states—after all, though royal authority and divine authority are naturally opposed, the rulers of every nation must still reckon with the church forces within their borders," Gao Yan nodded. "In fact, the Theocratic Council will not only refrain from declaring war on any deity; it will even help the gods do some 'publicity'..."

"Publicity?" Luo Yan did not grasp Gao Song's meaning for a moment and looked rather puzzled.

"Secularize the priesthood, popularize the dogma, turn the gods into celebrities, and finally—make the faith system entertainment," the corners of Gao Yang's mouth curved upward. "We will not craft any negative image of any god. On the contrary, we will make them shine even more gloriously in shadow-dramas, magazines, and... and in the process... they will gradually cease to be mysterious, and cease to be sacred."

Luo Yan stared at Gao Yang, dumbfounded, as though listening to tales of the Arabian Nights.

Then he drew a long breath, and the expression on his face became more complex and remarkable than ever before. "...You are the most daring... even frighteningly daring person I have ever met."

At the very last, when he said the word "person," he seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he still did not substitute any other word for it.

Gao Yang caught that barely perceptible flicker of hesitation in Luo Yan, but he only laughed it off. "Don't you think this plan is well worth a try?"

"If you didn't bear the name Augustus, I daresay you'd have given me a proper fright," Luo Yan said, a small jest by way of preamble. Then his expression turned serious. "I'm in."

Gao Yang broke into a smile and lifted the wine cup in his hand. "To strive against heaven—there is no greater joy."

Luo Yan was taken aback for a moment. He turned the strange-sounding words over in his mind, and little by little a smile spread across his own face. He raised his cup as well. "To strive against heaven—there is no greater joy."