Chapter 257: Dual Leadership? Impossible! Power and Ideology!
Although the bribe had been delivered, when it came to real intelligence about the Shield World, Morami didn't reveal anything to Zatan—especially not information about the Flood.
After all, the Flood—a brutal lifeform—was regarded by many within the Covenant as "divine creations." Fanatical believers would even go so far as to sacrifice themselves in worship, seeking spiritual transcendence.
But Morami, who had already learned the truth, would never see such a filthy and monstrous species as worthy of reverence.
In fact, within the Covenant's high council, the Elites had already had fierce arguments with the Prophets.
Perhaps it was due to suspicion, pity, or arrogance, but the Prophets suspected the Elites of questioning and disobeying their authority. As a result, the classification of the Flood remained a major point of contention.
This created an irresolvable paradox.
The Elites wanted to present the facts and have a rational discussion, but the Prophets saw it as an opportunistic power grab—a ploy to undermine their authority and seize control.
So far, this conflict hadn't erupted into open violence, but beneath the surface, the relationship was riddled with cracks, on the verge of collapse at any moment.
Back on Morami's side, Zatan, who had just received Morami's "gift," was quite pleased.
Beaming with delight, Zatan immediately changed his tone and smiled at Morami. "You truly are my good friend, Morami. I'll report your reentry request to the Council right away. Just give me a moment."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the holographic screen went dark, and the control deck fell silent. The crew waited patiently for a response from the Covenant Council.
It wasn't long before the screen lit up again.
But this time, it wasn't Customs Officer Zatan on the other end. Instead, it was an old, turtle-like being in elaborate robes—one of the Covenant's high leaders: the Prophet of Regret.
Upon seeing the old figure, Morami immediately straightened and offered a respectful bow.
"Leepa Morami greets the honored Prophet of Regret!"
Among the many high-ranking Elites, Morami was one of the few who knew how to play the political game. That's why the Prophet of Regret had chosen him to lead the Shield World expedition—a seemingly glorious but politically sensitive assignment.
Had it been any other less tactful Elite, they'd have long been thrown into the bloodiest battlefronts as cannon fodder.
Of course, due to the Shield World's importance, the Prophet of Regret had also dispatched Brutes and Jackals as military overseers to keep Morami in check, just in case he tried anything behind the scenes.
Unfortunately, those Brute and Jackal forces were completely wiped out. Now, only Morami and his Elite detachment had returned to report the Shield World's findings.
"Captain Morami, you may rise."
The Prophet of Regret motioned with his slender finger and continued,
"The High Council has approved your request. You are to return to High Charity immediately and present your report on the Shield World's divine relics in front of the full assembly."
A mission report of this magnitude was far too important to be delivered here.
The Prophet of Regret had long grown impatient to hear the intelligence on the Shield World and the truth behind the Brute and Jackal forces' demise.
"Yes, sir!"
Morami gave a firm nod.
"From this point on, Captain Zatan will handle the formalities. You and your personal guard may proceed."
With that, the screen switched back to Zatan. "Captain Morami, your fleet can remain docked at my customs port."
"Select your guards and take a shuttle to High Charity. As for your crew, have them stay aboard the ship and keep out of trouble."
Now that Zatan had accepted Morami's bribe, his attitude had softened significantly. He couldn't even be bothered to conduct a thorough search of the fleet anymore.
"Understood," Morami responded with a nod.
Once the call ended, Morami led his bodyguard Vadamee out of the bridge, grumbling under his breath:
"Those damn old geezers are guarding against us like we're traitors. With just this little fleet of mine, what kind of threat could I possibly pose?"
"Without the help of us Elites, the Prophets would've never risen to power in the Covenant!"
"Just wait—one day I'll flip those old bastards off their thrones!"
Despite the venting, Morami knew he still had to play along for now, putting on a submissive front in front of the Prophets for the sake of the bigger picture.
Before long, Morami's fleet docked safely at the port. Compared to the massive CSO-class supercarriers nearby, his CRS-class cruisers looked utterly insignificant, like ants beneath giants.
At that moment, a shuttle carrying Morami lifted off from the flagship hangar and headed straight for High Charity.
Meanwhile, deep beneath High Charity's massive dome, within an elite plaza reserved for the three leading Prophets, the Covenant's supreme rulers were gathered in their floating thrones.
With bald, wrinkled heads and frail, exhausted bodies, the three Prophets—Truth, Regret, and Mercy—were the highest authority in the Covenant.
Upon reviewing the metallic relics Morami had used to bribe Zatan, along with the technological artifacts submitted for inspection, the Prophet of Truth nodded thoughtfully.
"It appears Morami wasn't lying. They really did uncover remnants of divine relics and metallic resources within the Shield World."
The Prophet of Truth turned his cloudy eyes toward the exotic minerals in front of him, intrigued by the haul.
But the Prophet of Mercy's gaze was filled with unease. He spoke gravely:
"Based on the clues and intel Morami has provided, the Shield World contains a large number of weapon systems and technological artifacts. These could significantly bolster the Covenant's military strength—"
"—And perhaps even lead us to the Holy Rings!"
By "Holy Rings," the Prophet of Mercy meant the Halo array—the Forerunners' galaxy-devastating superweapon capable of wiping out all life across multiple star systems. To them, it was the ultimate "reset button."
In the Prophet of Mercy's vision, the Halo Rings were key to ascension, the final step to becoming divine.
"The Holy Rings? Hmph..."
The Prophet of Truth casually tossed the rare metal in his hand back into the crate, then glanced at the Prophet of Mercy with a smirk.
"I'm not concerned with the Rings right now. Whether they exist or not, our priority should be weakening the Sangheili and empowering the Brutes."
"Now that it's confirmed the Shield World contains a trove of relics, if we don't push the Brutes forward soon, who will suppress the Elite uprising?"
As the Covenant expanded, the Elites had gained increasing support due to their combat prowess and repeated military victories.
Wary of this restless founding race, the Prophets began supporting fringe species like the Brutes and Jackals—spacefaring raiders—to dilute the Elites' power base.
The last thing the Prophets wanted was for the Covenant's success to breed an uncontrollable Elite hegemony.
Sure enough, as the Prophet of Truth laid out his reasoning, both the Prophets of Regret and Mercy fell into silence.
He was right. Compared to the speculative goal of finding the Holy Rings, maintaining balance within the Covenant was far more urgent.
"That's why I propose assigning the Brutes as our personal guards and granting them partial military command," the Prophet of Truth continued with a smile.
"Give them a few perks, and they'll eagerly help us rein in the Elite menace."
Of course, he knew full well the Brutes weren't the brightest—and giving them command could lead to blunders.
But galactic warfare was a contest of technological might. Tactics and finesse were meaningless when you had overwhelming firepower.
With Forerunner weapons and starships on their side, they could crush any uncivilized civilization in their path.
More than capable generals, what the Prophets needed now was to centralize power. And the Brutes were the perfect glove—expendable tools to keep the Elites in check.
Upon hearing all this, the Prophet of Regret remained silent, carefully considering the arguments of his fellow Prophets.
"Hmph. I don't care much for the petty power struggles of those so-called elites—but lately, they've clearly overstepped. How dare they slander a divine creation as some kind of vile alien parasite!"
The Prophet of Mercy snorted coldly. Whether the Flood was truly evil or not—did that even matter? No, it didn't!
What mattered was the sanctity and authority of the Forerunners as the gods of the Covenant. That sacred status could not be tarnished or questioned—not even slightly.
Of course, the Prophet of Mercy knew, from the intelligence reports coming in from the frontlines, that the Flood was far from benign.
But even so, he could not allow any stain to touch the name of the gods. To label the Flood as an evil lifeform was to smear the Forerunners themselves.
After all, the Covenant was, at its core, an interstellar alliance of pirates and warlords—but its unifying force, the foundation of its vast hierarchy, was religion.
If their gods—the Forerunners—were exposed as anything less than divine, then the ruling Prophets would be discredited along with them.
It would be like Christians discovering that Jesus secretly raised a monstrous, man-eating abomination, and that believers were merely fodder for the beast.
If the fanatically devout Covenant masses ever learned that their revered gods were nothing more than flawed or monstrous beings, the entire religious order—and with it, the Covenant's governance—would collapse into ruin!
Such a revelation could plunge the Covenant into endless civil war, bringing the grand project of unifying the Halo universe to a tragic end.
Clearly, the two Prophets had different priorities.
The Prophet of Truth cared more about maintaining the dominance of the Prophets within the Covenant. Every development across the various factions had to remain under strict prophetic control.
Truth valued power.
The Prophet of Mercy, by contrast, focused more on Forerunner technology, the search for the Halos, and the religious sanctity of their cause.
Mercy valued ideology.
To him, the gods must remain above reproach and beyond question. That was the very core of the Covenant's foundation—and the Elites' discovery on the Shield World had shaken that foundation.
Even if the Flood really were a terrifying alien parasite, he would never admit they were a creation of the gods.
Truth and Mercy each made their arguments, while the Prophet of Regret watched them bicker in silence, his gaze steady and unreadable.
"The Flood—you know exactly how dangerous they are," said the Prophet of Truth with a mocking glance toward Mercy. "I hear plenty of lunatics have already started sacrificing themselves to it. What's the matter, Lord Mercy—planning to join them and feed yourself to the worms?"
Truth had no reverence for the Forerunners or the Flood. What he cared about was concrete results—about unifying the galaxy under the Covenant's rule.
His goal was to elevate the Prophets above all other species, to reign supreme over the entire galaxy—just as the Forerunners had done before.
As for the gods and religion? They were nothing more than tools of control. Whether or not they were real didn't matter at all.
"You...!"
Mercy was momentarily stunned, his expression troubled. He had no good rebuttal.
But regardless of what Truth said, Mercy's goal had never wavered: to find the Forerunner rings, to transcend mortality, and ascend just as the gods had.
To him, becoming the rulers of the galaxy was only a means to that divine end—not the end itself.
If the Prophets could truly ascend and become the next gods, then galactic rule and political power would pale in comparison—mere dust in the wind.
Seeing that the two were about to come to blows over the Flood, the Prophet of Regret finally spoke, unhurried and calm:
"We need to locate the Halo rings, and we must remain vigilant against the Flood. But right now, our top priority should be suppressing the Elites and supporting the Brutes."
"Compared to the Elites, the Brutes are certainly easier to control. But their savage, barbaric nature also introduces dangerous instability."
Regret weighed both sides' perspectives and sensed a flaw in the logic—yes, the Brutes could be used, but they couldn't be overused.
After all, the Brutes—speaking generously—were simple-minded and easy to manipulate. Put less kindly, they were violent, volatile lunatics.
If one day their desires weren't met, they might just turn around and wipe out the entire Prophet class. That would be catastrophic.
Not to mention, based on their performance in handling advanced weaponry, tactics, and fleet operations, the Brutes were proving to be rather... unimpressive.
It was a stark contrast in capability—clear differences in competence between species. So for now, the Elites couldn't be too harshly suppressed. A measured approach was necessary.
"So what now, Lord Regret?" asked the Prophet of Truth, turning toward him with thinly veiled impatience. "Don't you think the Elites wield far too much power?"
"Only the Brutes can keep them in check!"
"Don't forget, we've got a long-standing grudge with the Elites. If it weren't for our superior technology holding them down, they would've enslaved us long ago!"
"Now they've got access to our weapons, our fleets, and they've just discovered a trove of Forerunner relics on the Shield World. Aren't you even a little concerned they might make a move before we do?"
Truth knew better than anyone the real reason the proud Elites had submitted to the Prophets.
It was fear—fear of the Prophets' technological superiority and devastating weaponry.
But as the Covenant's wars dragged on, and more and more research teams were sent out, the Elites' influence within the alliance had grown substantially.
If things continued this way, it might soon be the Elites pulling the Prophets down from their thrones.
"Why do you think Moramee only brought back the warriors from his own Elite clan?" Truth sneered. "Where are the Brutes and Jackals who were with him?"
"I'd bet anything he killed them to cover something up. He must've found something huge on the Shield World—and he's hiding it from us!"
Regret fell into a long silence. He couldn't deny the possibility.
After all, the Brutes and Jackals both despised the Elites, and the Elites had a complicated history with the Prophets.
Long ago, the Elites' homeworld also contained many Forerunner relics. They saw themselves as the chosen heirs of the gods.
Seeking out divine artifacts was a core part of their racial purpose.
But the conservative Elites had refrained from exploiting the relics. They refused to reverse-engineer the technology or use it to gain power.
In contrast, the seemingly frail yet radical Prophets seized upon the relics, used them for reverse engineering, and rapidly advanced their technology.
The two sides, divided by ideology, came to see each other as heretics. A brutal war erupted—one that lasted nearly a century.
In the end, the Prophets' superior tech gave them the edge. They won the war of faith.
The Elites, forced to submit, helped the Prophets form the earliest version of the Covenant.
Using a mixture of bribery and brutality, the Prophets commanded the mighty Elite clans, equipped with devastating weapons, to conquer nearly half the known galaxy.
But as the Covenant expanded, many of its member species began to prefer the Elites—who were strong, honorable, and kept their promises.
This posed a serious threat to the Prophets' rule.
Regret understood all of this perfectly. The Elites—sooner or later—had to go.
With the Covenant now thousands, even tens of thousands of years ahead of any other civilization, their dominance seemed inevitable. Galactic rule was within reach.
The Prophets were destined to become the most powerful race in existence, to transcend physical form, to ascend as gods.
And when that moment came, there would be no room for debate about who held ultimate authority.
There would be no joint rule. That was absolutely unacceptable.
The Prophets would never tolerate it.
After a long pause, Regret finally spoke, nodding in agreement: "Convene the High Council. Let's get to the bottom of this."
"If Moramee's hands are dirty, we'll make an example of him—punish the Elite clans to send a clear message. And in the process, we'll elevate the Brutes and Jackals."
With that, Regret manipulated his floating throne, pulling up a holographic display that revealed a list of elite Brute officers.
"These are the candidates I've already chosen. They can replace many of the current Elite commanders. Once Moramee's guilt is confirmed, we'll move them in."
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