Chapter 121 : Doctrine and the Aberrant
Chapter 121: Doctrine and the Aberrant
Marl was somewhat dazed as he left the Church.
He had not expected those two friends of his to pull off something so monumental.
They had founded a nation.
Compared to them, his own act of flaunting strength before a few Gentry Families seemed like the antics of a clown.
However—
Zezel… Corleon had told him about Zezel, which left his mood rather complicated.
Upon arriving at the Monastery, it was now noon—the apprentices’ rest time.
Marl went straight to the library.
Pushing open the door, he was greeted by flying parchment and feather quills dancing through the air.
“Wow, look, my XXXX disciple has come to visit his pitiful teacher,” Oscar stood on a ladder, flipping through books he had written himself, speaking as he did so, though part of his sentence was clearly forcibly censored.
Over time, Oscar had grown used to it.
And Marl could also tell what had been censored from his words.
“I’m hardly your proudest disciple,” Marl shook his head, speaking with a trace of complexity, “Zezel and Darks have founded a nation.”
Oscar paused, the book in his hand flew back onto the shelf automatically, and his body floated down from the ladder.
He sat into a chair and poured Marl a cup of tea.
“Tell me, what happened?” he asked with great interest.
Marl sat down but didn’t touch the tea Oscar had poured.
Though Oscar couldn’t lie, adding a little something into tea was still within his capabilities.
“After the rebellion, they followed their original plan—passed through Marquis Demitri’s Territory, and went on to the Principality of Corlay,” Marl said.
“They lingered in Marquis Demitri’s Territory for quite some time, rescuing many people, so by the time they reached the Principality of Corlay, they founded a nation.”
“Raising the Purple Cross Painted in Blood Flag—the Cross Painted in Blood Theocracy.”
“The Cross Theocracy,” Oscar repeated, “It seems their founding doctrine shares some relation with our Church.”
Oscar stood up, pacing around the library, clearly interested, showing an expression as if he dearly wished to see it for himself—but couldn’t.
“Zezel rallied the people through the Holy Scriptures, and even penned a manifesto combining his own thoughts,” Marl explained.
“Ha, a manifesto. As expected of him—my proudest disciple,” Oscar exclaimed in admiration. This time, his words were not censored.
“Yes, the nation’s founding manifesto. Also the core doctrine of the Theocracy,” Marl nodded.
“The Bishop said that although the manifesto does not suit this era, it is still a classic that can explore the future, something worthy of being called a Doctrine.”
“So, to the Cross Painted in Blood Theocracy, he could indeed be considered a Saint who founded a sect.”
Oscar stopped walking, summoned a sheet of paper and a feather quill, and began writing.
“What about to the Church of the Sanctuary?” Oscar asked.
“Just a believer of the Lord, an aberrant follower,” Marl replied.
Oscar paused, then said, “Seems his manifesto differs from ours.”
“He believes that only in a world without nobles and Gentry Families can people truly hear the Lord’s Teachings, and thus usher in the Heavenly Kingdom on Earth,” Marl said.
“…That does not align with his wisdom,” Oscar stopped writing, fell silent for a moment, then spoke.
“Perhaps. But the Bishop told me Zezel has already been martyred,” Marl said.
“Martyred, has he?” Oscar nodded. “To voice such an idea—regardless of reason—yes, death was indeed his due.”
“And the Theocracy?” he asked again.
“It remains. Things are quite chaotic now in the Principality of Corlay, but they can still survive there,” Marl responded.
“Is it that chaotic now?” Oscar furrowed his brow. “Seems I must request permission from the Bishop to travel via the Rat Path—”
“You better give that up,” Marl immediately interrupted.
“The Bishop is merciful. I have written so many books for the Monastery’s collection—I should be rewarded,” Oscar protested unhappily.
The Church had only three classics originally, written by Corleon.
Nyx had originally authored only two books: one on the preparation of Healing Potions, and the other on the making of healing bandages.
Later, when Oscar joined the Monastery to impart knowledge and voluntarily requested to record the contents of his mind into books.
After establishing a library, he could not help but write a few volumes himself.
But how could Nyx’s handwriting possibly compare to Oscar’s magic?
In just this short period of time, he had written over a hundred books, filling an entire bookshelf.
“The reward for your contributions to the library has already been given. At the very least, you can now say some improper words—though certain vocabulary will still be censored.” Marl stated bluntly.
“And if you end up angering the Bishop because of it, punishing you is a small matter. But if his wrath were to fall on me, the one who delivered this news...
that would be unfortunate.”
“Heh, you really XXXX me, your teacher.” Oscar sneered coldly.
“You treated us like test subjects back then. I believe I’ve shown you plenty of respect already,” Marl replied without a hint of politeness.
“Hmph, cunning brat.” Oscar stood up and waved his hand, returning the parchment and feather quills to their original places. “Speak, what did you come here for?”
“Just to see you.” Marl said.
“A lie like that is a sin for a monk such as yourself.”
“I am your student. This is simply a demonstration of my learning.” Marl replied. But immediately after, he revealed his true intent.
“I’ll be departing for Marquis Demitri’s Territory the day after tomorrow. The priest has instructed me, if conditions permit, to also visit the Theocracy and deliver the Church’s classics.”
By classics, he meant the three books written by Corleon.
“I see.” Oscar waved his hand, and three books floated over from the bookshelf.
“But personally, besides those, I’d like to bring them a few books already reviewed and approved by the Monastery,” Marl said.
“Heh, so you want to help them?” Oscar chuckled. “Though they believe in the Lord, they are not the same as us.”
“They are aberrant.”
“But they are also acting upon what I have long hoped for,” Marl said.
“Well then, since they’re also my disciples...” Oscar shook his head. “As a XXX, I must offer XXXX some help.” Marl listened silently as nearly half of Oscar’s sentence was censored.
“However, when you return from there, remember to bring back a copy of the manifesto written by Zezel,” Oscar said.
“I’m very interested in what he wrote.”
“I’ve already asked the Bishop whether the manifesto needs to be brought back,” Marl said.
“But the Bishop said if I wish to bring it, I can—but it’s not necessary. He’s already sent Knight George to retrieve it.”
“George, huh… if it’s him,” Oscar squinted his eyes. “Seems this matter might be quite troublesome——”
Marl remained silent and did not respond.