Chapter 178 : Ringing the Bell
Chapter 178: Ringing the Bell
“Who knows, all those who study magic are lunatics.” Puniel replied.
“They’re just lunatics, not fools,” Bevan said, then looked at Piero. “What should we do now?”
None of them attempted to shirk responsibility at this moment.
Their cooperation was fragile to begin with. The matter of advancing the First Warrior was a decision based on each of their individual interests—every one of them had participated.
Even if they could shift the blame this time, next time they cooperated, everyone would prepare an escape route in advance.
They were all people who had held power for a long time, and would never do something that would destroy their own class.
They didn’t care about the deaths of their family members, but they cared about the continuation of their bloodline.
As long as the bloodline continued, then everything they and their families had done would be meaningful. But once they were removed from their class—unless accepted by another of equal or higher standing—
Otherwise, if expelled from their class, their bloodline would eventually be severed.
“What else can we do?” Piero leaned back on the chair, his whole body seemingly relaxed.
“If you were fortunate enough to be received by the Bishop, then you’d know that everything we do has been tacitly permitted by the Bishop,” he said.
Bevan and Puniel both turned their eyes toward Jeffrey.
“I only lived in the Monastery for a while, I haven’t met the Bishop,” Jeffrey said. “But when I spoke with the scholars, I heard them say the Bishop seems to have the ability to see into people’s hearts, so they all avoid meeting him. That’s also why the scholars don’t compete with Oscar for the Dean’s position.”
The group fell into silence again.
“So now all we can do is sit here and wait for the judgment?” Puniel’s expression was slightly irritable.
“What else? Sitting here together makes it easier for them to notify us.” Jeffrey spoke as he picked up the teacup and began to sip. After taking a sip, he looked at Piero. “I heard that over at the Monastery, they now add some goat milk to black tea?”
“You sure do like your black tea,” Piero replied.
“Drinking black tea is a bit more tasteful than drinking plain water,” Jeffrey smiled.
“You look like a prostitute in a tavern serving drinks,” Puniel glanced at Jeffrey and commented.
“I think you need to stay at the Monastery for a while to understand what taste really means.” Jeffrey shook his head and sighed.
“Only things that serve war can be considered tasteful,” Puniel said. “All those things the Monastery spends resources developing—how many of them can actually be used in war?”
Before Jeffrey could reply, a sudden voice interrupted their conversation.
“I like your taste. Coincidentally, I recently made a few little things. I’ll assign you three Apprentices of the Monastery for this expedition to test their power.”
It was a voice familiar to Piero.
He immediately stood up and looked in the direction of the voice, where two people stepped out from the shadows.
“Dean Oscar, and Knight Wolf.” Piero slightly bowed and spoke.
Bevan and Jeffrey stood up silently, while Puniel, face slightly flushed, also followed and stood.
“Ahem, this distance is still too far—teleporting here by magic takes a hefty price,” Oscar suddenly coughed twice and spat out a mouthful of blood.
Knight Wolf casually tossed a woman’s head onto the round table.
“The Bishop asked me to warn you all: it’s still far too early for you to tamper with legends,” he said. “If you don’t want to die in vain, go read the Holy Scriptures, and look through the books in the Church’s collection.”
Hearing Knight Wolf’s words, Oscar spoke with some pride: “Yes, the Monastery has over five hundred books in its collection—that’s more than the Scholar’s Guild in Greenwood City. Moreover, the content of the books in the Guild is too obscure—they dare not write clearly.”
“Although the Monastery’s library isn’t currently open to the public, all of you are nobles and senators of York Territory. So, as the Dean of the Monastery, I permit you to visit the Monastery to read its collection.”
“After all, if you’ve barely read anything and try to govern a territory now, people will laugh at you.” Oscar had a smile on his face.
“Also, you can interact more with the apprentices—perhaps one of them will catch your eye and, after graduating, can assist you in administrative affairs.”
Oscar’s words made the four of them fall into contemplation.
“By the way, Sir Puniel.” Oscar turned to Puniel. “I really liked what you said just now. So I’m assigning a few of the second batch of apprentices to follow you on the expedition to test my research.”
“If I could, I’d like to go myself, but as you all know—it’s not convenient for me.”
Suppressing the thoughts in his heart, Puniel said, “If apprentices from the Monastery are willing to help, I welcome them.”
“Hahaha, then I’ll have the apprentices bring over the blueprints later, and also prepare some components ahead of time. After the expedition starts, it’s hard to find suitable craftsmen.” Oscar said, stepping forward to pick up the woman’s head.
“This should be one of your people, right, Sir Bevan?” He looked at Bevan. “Do you still want to use her? If not, give her to me—I still have some use for her. The Bishop also said I should sew her back up and bury her after use.”
“If you need her, she’s yours,” Bevan replied.
“Thank you for your generosity,” Oscar said, carefully lifting the woman’s head, then looked at Knight Wolf.
“Now that you’re here, shall I teleport you back?” he asked.
“No need. I’m heading to the Lord’s Fortress,” Knight Wolf said, then turned and left.
Oscar shrugged and said, “Then I’ll go stroll through the town.”
As he was about to walk out of the Senate Hall, he suddenly stopped and turned to Jeffrey. “Cicero and the others made a kind of lactose—it tastes much better in black tea than goat milk.”
After speaking, he simply wrapped the woman’s head and left.
The Senate Hall fell into silence. After a while, Bevan’s voice rasped, “When did they arrive?”
“Does it matter?” Piero said.
“It does,” Puniel responded.
“No, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that this incident ends here.” Piero looked at Puniel and asked, “Sir Puniel, when will you lead the warriors to Baron Belair’s side?”
“After his apprentices arrive,” Puniel replied.
“Very well. I wish you all the best,” Piero said and turned to leave.
After Piero left, Jeffrey said, “When I was in the Monastery, I heard that Dean Oscar was not allowed to leave the Church of the Sanctuary. That’s why he’s never been to Castlelot Market.”
“But now, he can teleport directly to the Senate Hall, and from the look of it, he can also move around York Town.”
After speaking, Jeffrey too departed, leaving only Bevan and Puniel in the Senate Hall.
Exchanging a glance, Puniel asked, “So, did he hear?”
“I don’t think he did. After all, Dean Oscar is... someone with a very good memory,” Bevan replied.
“Then he probably didn’t hear.” Puniel nodded.
...
Three days later, Puniel left with the hired warriors.
And during those days, no one mentioned the matter of the First Warrior—it was as if it had been forgotten.
Only in taverns, some drunken individuals would bring up the seven-day duel, but they were quickly silenced by a hand over the mouth—or a fist.
A few more days later, it was night. The White Star hung high in the sky, and the final component was finally installed on the Clock Tower.
“You bunch of idiots, you really waited until the last moment to install it!” Oscar cursed loudly.
“Hurry up and get back to the Monastery and wait to hear the bell of the Clock Tower.”
The exhausted apprentices crawled away.
Only after sensing that the apprentices had left did Oscar relax his brow. He looked at the intricate structure inside the Clock Tower with a smile.
After Corleon made his request, he flipped through many books in his memory before he grasped some knowledge of mechanical structures. He then studied for a long time with the scholars of the Monastery before finally creating this first clock.
For this, he compiled five thick books. He believed that the knowledge in them was enough to establish a new Mechanical Discipline.
“You’re the Dean of the Monastery. If you think it can be established, then go ahead and do it.” Corleon’s voice came.
At some unknown time, Corleon’s figure had appeared there.
“Thank you for your recognition,” Oscar bowed deeply and said.
“This is the authority you deserve,” Corleon said. “It’s going to be dangerous next. Aren’t you going to step aside?”
Oscar raised his head and asked, “Will I die?”
“No.”
“Then it’s not dangerous.”
Corleon said no more and walked toward the clock.
This was the interior of the clock—only the intricate components could be seen, forming the clock’s power source. As they rotated, the components clashed with friction and collision sounds.
Outside, one could see the clock face and two massive hands.
At this moment, the shorter hand was nearing midnight.
That was the time designated by the Monastery as the start of the new day.
The longer hand was making its final revolution.
Above the clock, there was a large bell.
Oscar suddenly became slightly nervous and said, “The top bell was hung per your request, but if I had more time, I could connect it to the clock. When the time comes, the top bell would ring automatically.”
“The one who should ring that bell is not time, Oscar,” Corleon raised his right hand and opened his eyes. “The one who rings the bell is the Lord. And when the Lord rings the bell, that marks the beginning of a new year.”
As he spoke, a gear suddenly clicked into place. Outside the clock, the short and long hands overlapped, pointing to twelve.
Dong— a bell rang out.