Chapter 143 : Zeda Holy City
Chapter 143: Zeda Holy City
The next day, after receiving the direction to the capital city of the Theocracy from Landon, George departed.
Before leaving, he told the two that if they were willing to trust him, they could stay here and wait for him to finish his business and take them to the York Territory.
And on the road to the capital city of the Theocracy, the closer he got to the capital, the lower the degree of Desertification of the land. By the time he reached the base of the capital, lush green grass could still grow on the ground.
As if this place was the only oasis in the entire desert.
He could see several fully-armored warriors guarding the Main Gate, strictly questioning every person who wanted to enter.
‘Have you taken the Sacrament?’—this sentence was the one George heard most frequently during his brief observation.
Outside the Main Gate’s area, he could see more than a dozen Crosses planted into the ground, with several naked mummified corpses nailed onto them.
These were all men, their clothes stripped away, completely exposed.
In terms of brutality alone, this scene was far less shocking than the thousands of spears outside York City once pierced with heads.
Yet, as a devout Believer of the Church of the Sanctuary, George found these crucified corpses even more disturbing.
“When did the Cross, which is clearly the Holy Relic of the Lord, become a tool for killing?” He suppressed his fury and muttered under his breath.
Only the territories of high-ranking nobles—Counts, Marquises, Dukes, and Princes—were permitted to be called cities.
And the city where a nation’s ruler resided was called the Capital.
This Capital was seized by the Cross Painted in Blood Theocracy after its founding by killing a Border Earl.
No one dared to mention the original name of this Capital. It was only referred to as the Zeda Holy City.
The city walls were tall, guarded by warriors. George could not climb in without being discovered.
George had to suppress the anger in his heart and proceed to the Main Gate.
Immediately, the already strict warriors became tense. From the corner of his eye, George could see that the heavy crossbows on the walls were being aimed at him.
He had watched for a long time and had seen others in armor enter the city. The guards had not been this tense in those instances.
“State your purpose, Knight,” a voice said.
It was not the warriors who spoke, but a thin old man in a brown robe.
The man held a book in his hand, its cover bound in Beast Hide, with a slightly raised Cross emblem.
This was far superior to George’s own Holy Scriptures, which were bound with ordinary sheepskin parchment.
As the old man spoke, the warriors saluted him with great respect.
George was somewhat puzzled. His armor was not of full Knighthood level—just standard full-plate soldier gear—yet the man had still instantly recognized him as a Knight.
Even if he was merely an Honorary Knight conferred by Baron Belair.
As if sensing George’s confusion, the thin old man spoke.
“A Knight is special. Compared to ordinary warriors, they are like light flickering in the dark—eye-catching.”
George understood. Since learning about mysterious powers from Nyx, he knew that being conferred as a Knight brought some blessings. Perhaps the old man in front of him identified him through those unique traits.
So, this old man must be a scholar?
“I am currently a simple High Priest,” the man said.
George paused and asked, “You know what I’m thinking?”
“The doubt on the Knight’s face tells me your question,” the High Priest smiled.
Deacon, Priest, High Priest, Patriarch.
These were the hierarchical ranks of the Cross Painted in Blood Theocracy.
Landon had told George that the fat man in the village was a Priest, equivalent to the old Local Gentry of a village.
And currently, the Theocracy had only three High Priests, all residing in the Capital.
As for the Patriarch, he was naturally the living saint who founded the Theocracy.
“So then, Knight, what brings you to the Holy City?” the High Priest asked.
“Is it a pilgrimage? Or perhaps a desire to join the Theocracy’s Knight Order?”
“I come from the Church of the Sanctuary, and I am here under the command of the Bishop, to request a copy of the Doctrine Manuscript of the Theocracy,” George said honestly.
“The Church of the Sanctuary, hm?” The High Priest nodded thoughtfully.
Then he turned to the warriors and said, “This Knight is without issue. He is a noble Knight, a man of status. I will personally attend to him.”
“Yes, High Priest Everton,” the warriors straightened up and responded reverently.
Only then did George learn the name of the thin High Priest.
“Please, follow me, Sir Knight,” High Priest Everton said, signaling George to follow.
Without hesitation, George followed him.
Passing through the gate, the scene was bustling. Though fear still lingered in the eyes of the people coming and going, there was also a sense that they had found salvation.
It was an atmosphere of life.
Compared to the lifeless villages George had passed on the way, this place truly resembled a Holy City.
Seeing this scene, George’s hostility and anger toward the Theocracy slightly subsided, but in their place rose even greater doubt.
“I can sense the Knight’s hostility. It seems you’ve seen the outer villages,” said High Priest Everton as he walked.
Two armored warriors opened the way ahead, and those who noticed them respectfully made way. Even those who didn’t notice were pulled aside by others.
“Yes, that place gave me a strange feeling,” George said.
“Strange, ha. That word fits,” said High Priest Everton.
“Would the High Priest be willing to clear up my doubts?” George asked.
“Of course—but now is not the place for such talk,” said High Priest Everton. Then he slightly raised his voice. “What does the Knight think of our Holy City?”
“Crowded, noisy, fearful… and full of salvation,” George spoke his thoughts plainly.
“You are perceptive, Knight.” High Priest Everton glanced at George, eyes filled with delight.
“There are now over thirty thousand people living in the Holy City, and that number increases by a thousand each day,” he said.
“And this city was originally planned to accommodate only fifteen thousand.”
“Thirty thousand has already exceeded the city’s capacity.”
“There is no private property here anymore. All houses are distributed uniformly by the Theocracy, yet even so, many are crammed into the Drainage Outlets.”
“They endure the stench just to remain in the Holy City.”
Listening to High Priest Everton, George could not help but ask, “With such crowding and density, has the order here not collapsed?”
“Seems the Knight is quite learned as well,” High Priest Everton’s voice carried joy.
Of course he was learned—Nyx had often lectured them during idle times, sharing his governance experience.
“There’s still a vast expanse of land outside the city. The Capital could be expanded, or the surplus population relocated to new towns,” George said.
“Indeed, that method could solve the problem of overcrowding. But as the Knight has traveled here, you must have seen the outside,” said High Priest Everton.
“Tell me, Knight, do you think that kind of land is suitable for human habitation?”
George replied, “But if everyone is crammed inside this city, one day, food will run out. At that point…”
He originally intended to say people would starve, but suddenly he thought of the so-called Sacrament of the Theocracy.
So, he fell silent.