The Holy Church Begins with Bestowal of Blessings

Chapter 209: The Choice for the Return Journey

Belair was in pain.

Great pain.

It was not just physical pain—he felt as if his very spirit was being violated.

“Priest Marl, try these,” Puniel said to Marl. “These were brought from York Town.”

“Odo Port has been completed, and with the operations of those fishing boats, quite a lot was caught. At least during these two years when York Territory is reducing meat consumption to restore the ecosystem, we will not be lacking in meat.”

“Of course, these fish are to be supplied to York Territory first. I had to spend a large sum of money to get those merchants to bring them here.”

“Yes, I spent my own gold. Although our poor Baron Belair is very impoverished, since we are hosting Priest Marl, I am willing to spend my own gold coins to arrange a sumptuous feast for him.”

Puniel’s voice was hearty and loud.

However, Belair’s eyes bulged as if they were about to pop out.

That gold was obviously mine! All of it was stolen by you, you robber!

But his gaze only earned him Puniel’s “concern.”

“Does Baron Belair also want to have a taste? Oh yes, in such a barren place, you naturally would not be able to eat something this good. Come, have a proper taste,” Puniel said loudly.

Speaking as he reached for a fish, he held it right up in front of Belair’s eyes.

He met the milky-white dead fish eyes of the cooked fish; under Puniel’s movement, the rotten fish mouth opened and closed slightly in front of him.

Belair’s pupils trembled, full of rejection.

However, a few days ago, he had accidentally fallen again, so his entire body was still wrapped in bandages—even his head was wrapped, binding his jaw and skull together. He could only barely open a small gap in his mouth, and these days, he had been consuming only liquid food with the help of maids.

“Ahem, Knights Puniel, matters here have been settled, and the situation has stabilized. I think it’s time you return with us,” Marl coughed lightly.

Only then did Puniel put away the fish, placing it into his own bowl, and wiped his hands with a piece of linen.

Belair let out a breath of relief and even looked at Marl with a hint of gratitude.

Marl did not respond to him.

George was a devout believer—a pure believer. When writing his own story, he simply recounted his experiences plainly, which naturally included Belair’s deception toward him.

And those who admired George the most naturally despised Belair even more for deceiving him.

Therefore, even though they had rested here for three days, every time Puniel tormented Belair at meals, Marl had remained silent.

The incident at the border had left them all exhausted; everyone’s hearts felt wounded. The return journey had taken five days, and only upon reaching the fortress where Puniel was temporarily stationed did they relax and rest.

Today, after hearing that the warriors below had finished resting, Marl also prepared to return. But before returning, he planned to take Puniel back.

Of course, not just Puniel—Belair as well.

So Marl said to Belair, “And Baron Belair, the Senate of York Territory has driven away the werewolves for you. I think you should go to the Senate to express your gratitude to the council members.”

Belair’s mouth twitched slightly before he nodded faintly.

Then Marl looked toward Puniel.

Frankly speaking, with the shortage of supplies here and no way to enjoy himself, Puniel did want to go back.

And the mercenary warriors below also had thoughts of returning after no longer having battles to fight.

They wanted to return in glory. From what Puniel knew, they were already having passing merchant caravans bring them new clothes.

But thinking about the strict rules he’d have to face upon returning, Puniel felt a bit uneasy.

Marl noticed Puniel’s hesitation, narrowed his eyes slightly, and said, “The new York City has already begun construction. Many people have been mobilized this time. At the same time, there’s the matter of re-minting currency and other issues. The Senate is struggling to decide what to do.”

Puniel’s pupils shrank sharply. “Yes, we should go back. After all, they’re not real soldiers, just hired warriors. After five months away, the warriors are homesick,” he replied quickly.

Then, after hesitating for a moment, he continued, “But before leaving, I still need to arrange some things. Priest Marl, as you know, this was originally the Marquis’s territory. Even though it was reduced somewhat by the Theocracy, it’s still much larger than York Territory now.”

Marl nodded. “Then please arrange these matters quickly, Knight Puniel.”

Puniel naturally agreed.

The news of their return was no secret, so after that meal, word began to spread.

The local gentry closed their doors, suppressing excited cheers.

Mercenary warriors walked around trying on new clothes.

The local warriors felt uneasy. They had all been scattered under various knights, most of whom served under Puniel.

The commoners felt confused and afraid; at least with Puniel around, their lives were stable.

Knight Julian, stationed in a central fortress, sent a letter requesting to accompany them.

The apprentices from York Territory gathered in small groups.

Because the villages they were assigned to were far apart, it was hard for them to meet, so they gathered only in small cliques.

Cliff had gathered with two companions.

“Lant sent me a message—he’s going to ask Sir Puniel to let him return. He also told me the others are doing the same,” one said.

“What about you, Bert?” another asked.

Bert replied, “I want to go back too.”

He glanced at Cliff before continuing, “You’ve seen it here—without the light of the Morning Star, even though the land hasn’t been polluted, it’s hard for crops to grow. Yields are extremely low.”

“Scholar Daniel came here once, saying he would discuss with Dean Oscar how to deal with the cloud cover. But he also said it would take at least two years. And in that time, this place can only survive with York Territory’s supply.”

“And two years later—how many graduates will the Monastery have? In just over a month, the second batch of students will graduate. The new York City being built is the size of five York Towns. Imagine how many people it will hold. I think a city that size will need people with management experience to become officials.”

Bert lowered his voice.

Cliff narrowed his eyes, understanding that the man simply wanted to leave and return to York Territory.

Not only because of the power vacuum in York City, but because the conditions here were indeed too harsh.

They could tell the land here would take at least five years to return to normal, and that was only enough to be self-sufficient. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by novel_fіre.net

This territory lay on the edge of the greenery, with only patches of green land. Even when the Marquis still ruled, the grain yield wasn’t much—most of the land was used for grazing.

Given the current ecological situation, natural recovery would take at least twenty years, and even with the Monastery apprentices intervening, it would still take six or seven years after cleanup to fully restore.

In that case, with reliance on York Territory for survival, those developing here would be living at the mercy of York people.

They had learned well—if you wanted power, you needed to hold resources. But here, how could they control any resources?

So, whether for their own future or for comfort, returning was the best choice.

But…

Cliff shook his head. “My work here isn’t done. I plan to stay.”

Bert tried to persuade him. “Cliff, you’re one of the best among us. You shouldn’t waste your future here. You should return to York Territory. You could become a great figure—even like Administrator Piero, entering the Senate without being a noble.”

His tone was both persuasion and temptation.

But Cliff simply shook his head. “In York Territory, there’s more power, but opportunities are limited. Compared to the second batch of apprentices with family backing, what advantage do we have?”

Bert said, “Families are profit-driven. As long as we can bring them benefits, they’ll invest in us.”

Cliff shook his head again. “My relationship with my family is far from pleasant. So I’ll stay—at least here I still have some authority.”

Bert felt disappointed. If Cliff returned with them, then with Cliff’s earlier proposal of building a new city, the three of them could have held some influence among the first batch’s cliques.

Unfortunately, Cliff refused.

In the end, Bert and the other man agreed to submit their requests to return together.

After leaving the gathering, Cliff returned to his village.

The stone and wooden houses, though ugly in appearance, were built using all available conditions to ensure the people’s lives as much as possible.

The village guards saluted Cliff with respect, while the villagers looked at him with awe and fear.

Of course, there was more fear than awe.

In the village stood a taller longhouse, used for handling village affairs and as Cliff’s temporary residence.

Inside, Marcus was reading the Holy Scriptures by the light coming through the window.

Hearing Cliff enter, Marcus said, “Let me guess—those fools want you to go back with them?”

Cliff approached. “Bert mentioned it, but he said Lant told him most apprentices plan to request a return.”

Marcus put away the Holy Scriptures and looked at Cliff. “Lant… I know him. He tried to challenge me once but was nearly killed by a single slap.”

“Hah, and someone like him dares to meddle in York Territory’s affairs now?”

“Well, I suppose only someone with such a strong lust for power would want to go back.”

Marcus’s tone was mocking. He continued as if teaching, “The founding of a new city is when power is divided—especially without a lord to assign it. Such power becomes even more tempting.”

“But precisely because of that, everyone has a chance to get a slice. Those people must either be ruthless enough or clever enough—but that’s still not enough. They also need to control resources.”

“Money, connections, warriors, family—these are qualifications.”

“And you first-batch apprentices, thrown out by your families to test the Church, won’t be valued again by those who hold resources.”

“Of course, someone like you, who has managed to connect with Puniel Knight, might receive investment from your family.”

“But these fools who give up the resources they’ve been gathering will, upon returning, just be like when they were sent to test the Church—stones thrown ahead to feel the road.”