Chapter 113 : Help the Friends Who Helped Us
Chapter 113: Help the Friends Who Helped Us
Outside York Town, the weathered heads were finally ordered to be removed.
A large fire burned them all clean—no one cared which families these once-important figures had belonged to.
It was because the Knight Wolf family had taken the lead in relocating their manor out of the village.
Other families of similar status followed suit and moved their manors out of the village as well.
The overt forces they could command had already been half hollowed out by the Church, and the remaining half were also being entangled and eroded by the personnel arranged by Administrator Piero.
Of course, they wouldn’t sit by and wait for Piero to strip away the power they had painstakingly obtained from the lord, but Piero had a hard life.
Assassinations, poisonings—anything that money could buy, they tried. But in the end, all they managed to do was ruin half of Piero’s face, one eye, part of a forearm, and punch a few holes in him.
Piero had a very hard life—despite all this, he didn’t die. He even dragged that mangled body, alone, to visit their manors after they stopped.
Thus, they finally understood—the tide had turned.
And after the young ones sent to the Church’s Monastery returned, they realized they had to adapt to the new rules of the territory.
One after another, they moved out of the village, merely building new manors within the range of the corresponding villages.
Using the knowledge brought back by the younger members, they explored and established new industries sufficient to support the operations of their families.
As they moved away, most commoners in the village, having lost the gentry above their heads, were momentarily disoriented.
They had grown used to being managed—even exploited.
Once the leaders above them left, they all appeared somewhat at a loss.
However, very soon, officials sent by Piero filled this vacancy.
But officials, after all, were not families—they simply did what was within their duties, while skimming a bit on the side. The commoners’ lives, relatively speaking, became more comfortable.
More importantly, the blockade imposed by those families disappeared, and these commoners began testing the waters by stepping outside the village.
Corleon could see the area around the Church had grown lively.
After all, there was free Sacrament. As long as they shouted, “I am a devout believer,” they could receive a portion.
Of course, even if they didn’t shout, they’d still be given one.
Such a good thing—of course the commoners wouldn’t miss it.
And they wouldn’t dare make trouble. The sounds of training from the nearly two hundred warriors now managed by the Church weren’t a hallucination.
Corleon certainly knew what these commoners were thinking, but he didn’t mind. He was glad that as the place gradually recovered, it was also showing new vitality.
He summoned Marl.
"Bishop, you called for me,"Marl bowed and said.
Over his Monk’s Robe, he wore well-crafted leather armor. Compared to before, his skin looked a bit darker.
"It seems you’re getting along well with them,"Corleon looked Marl over and said with a smile.
"They’re all very devout believers now,"Marl also smiled.
Of course they were devout.
Two full meals a day—each one enough to fill them up, and even included a bit of meat. Before every meal, they had to pray and give thanks to the Lord for the food bestowed.
Half a day of training daily; during the other half, the Temple Warriors would divide them into small squads and take turns patrolling the area around the Church.
Of course, the patrols had little real purpose, but when they patrolled in uniform gear, they were viewed by the commoners with eyes full of reverence.
In addition, the Church even paid salaries to these warriors.
Two gold coins a month. By now, they had received their first wage.
With food and pay provided, they quickly forgot their original identities. Now, in their hearts, they only acknowledged one identity—that of a warrior of the Church of the Sanctuary.
Ask me if I’m a devout believer?
Take a look at my flanged mace or hand axe—are these devout enough?
"Very good. The gear for all of them has been updated, yes?"asked Corleon.
After Terry secured her footing, she quickly revived the family’s old trade. They would supply the Church with specialized robes, as well as cotton and leather armor for the warriors.
"Yes. Now, all warriors have been issued a set of Thickened Cotton Cloth armor and leather armor, along with an outer cloth featuring the Cross."
"One-handed weapons, shields, and spears have all been fully equipped,"Marl responded.
This was also the current limit for mass equipment supply.
"Are we going to the Marquis Demitri’s Territory?"Marl asked, following up.
"No,"Corleon shook his head,"Before heading there, I need you to take them and sweep through the entire York Territory."
"Those Werewolves are still in hiding."
"Our friends donated offerings to the Church. Naturally, we must help our friends eliminate this evil and ensure their safety,"Corleon said.
"Do we need to leave a group behind at the Church?"
"No need. Take everyone. I will also send five Temple Warriors along,"Corleon said.
Compared to those soldiers, the Temple Warriors wore chainmail. They were true armored elites.
"What if we encounter bandits?"Marl asked.
Even after multiple purges, the profession of banditry was never something that could be completely eradicated.
"They’ve already committed sins, so deliver Judgment unto them."
"If we’re still within York Territory, should we bring food from the Church, or—"Marl spoke with a bit of excitement.
"You may purchase food from those friends who donated offerings to the Church. I believe they would certainly be willing to sell food to you at a fair price,"Corleon said.
"Yes, I understand,"Marl responded excitedly and went off to rally the troops.
With the military might of Knight Wolf, the political maneuvering of Administrator Piero, and the subtle yet deliberate support of the Church, those Local Gentry had become much more obedient. Corleon wasn’t worried they would make trouble now.
After waiting in the Church for a moment, Cicero came jogging in.
"Bishop, I have an idea,"he said with excitement.
"Very well, go to Melia and withdraw one thousand gold coins,"Corleon responded before he even spoke.
Melia was fourteen years old—an age where, in this era, she could already become a mother.
After the Monastery got back on track, Nyx requested that Corleon arrange a job for Melia.
What she did wasn’t important—what mattered was that she worked for the Church.
Corleon was generous and assigned Melia to manage the Church’s finances.
Already something of a half-scholar, Melia was quite suited to the task.
"Understood, Bishop. Once it’s done, it will surely be something that astonishes even you,"Cicero said, then turned and left.
Others might find it strange that Corleon responded before Cicero even spoke, but to Cicero, this was simply his childhood.
Corleon did not turn his head—he merely closed his eyes.
The Church’s location was on a slightly undulating plain.
Back when the commoners were penned in and the Church had few people, it didn’t matter much.
But now, with Church personnel increasing, and with commoners starting to leave villages and towns, things were becoming less convenient.
So after discussing with Oscar about the gardens of Southern Empire nobles, Cicero had a new idea.
He planned to use trees and flowers to partition the plains surrounding the Church—essentially to build a large garden.
And to accomplish such a massive project, he needed manpower.
It is written in the Holy Scriptures: those who labor shall be rewarded. Therefore, he needed money to pay the hired workers.
However, Melia was now already being called “Stingy Melia” by them.
Getting money from her—aside from Agamemnon, who could barely succeed—was nearly impossible for anyone else, not even a single copper.
That’s why he had come to Corleon to request funds.
Although Cicero claimed that the final product would astonish Corleon, the truth was that Corleon had already seen its completed form in the Revelation.