Chapter 236 : Diocese
Chapter 236: Diocese
For the Senate, the phased migration was not only about delineating power hierarchies, but also carried the intention of testing how much wealth these people had accumulated.
After York Territory had established its commodity advantage over other regions and firmly secured the dominance of York Gold Coins, even without deliberate manipulation, the gold collected by the senators had grown to such a degree that they became numb to it.
Wealth could be transformed into power. This was the fact determined by the senators once the value of York Gold Coins had been firmly anchored.
No matter how much the wealth of the lower people expanded, these senators still stood at the pinnacle of York Territory’s power.
They were not even much concerned about Lord Pegira’s return anymore.
That lord, after defeating the last Marquis of the Patlin Family, continued southward to wage war. Recently, news spread that he had already slaughtered the main city of the Ackerman Principality.
Because the Ackerman Family had not, like the Patlin Family, fallen into a succession struggle that gathered the direct bloodline in one place, they had not been wiped out completely in one blow. For this reason, the Ackerman Principality could still be considered to barely exist.
However, Lord Pegira’s violent conquest had already torn the Ackerman Principality apart.
The most direct consequence was that in the former core lands of the Patlin Principality that Lord Pegira had conquered, chaos erupted as people waited endlessly for their absent liege.
One powerholder after another, spurred by the expanding influence of Viscount Youn, began to reveal their ambitions. It could be said that the Great Wall once built by the southern nobles to keep York Territory out had now become the wall shielding York Territory’s order from chaos.
Of course, as to whether these powerholders’ ambitions were influenced by other factors, Councilor Bevan insisted absolutely not. At least, regarding the fact that wherever York merchants went, disorder soon followed, Bevan insisted it had nothing to do with him.
He was troubled by the fact that the expansion of his intelligence network, extended through trade, still could not keep up with the pace of the Lord’s conquests. The distance between himself and the Lord only grew wider.
For this reason, given Lord Pegira’s age, they could temporarily afford to forget about him.
Of course, even if they temporarily forgot their Lord, there still remained the Church of the Sanctuary above their heads.
Thus, the matter of phased migration could not be attributed to the Church of the Sanctuary.
In fact, when the new city had first been planned, the Church of the Sanctuary had already been included within it. So, when Jeven entered York City, he was escorted onto a carriage.
Naturally, this was arranged by the Senate. Others might not know whether Jeven would become a bishop, but the Senate was certainly aware.
…
The Church of the Sanctuary was stationed in the northeastern corner of York City.
Before departing for Rod City, Jeven’s debriefing was held on the first floor of the Clock Tower, where Monk Agamemnon was already waiting.
Two years had passed, and the now eleven-year-old Agamemnon had grown much taller. At least, when standing behind the small wooden platform, he no longer needed a box to avoid his view being blocked.
“Cleric Agamemnon.” Jeven saluted respectfully.
The priests currently serving in the Church of the Sanctuary could all be considered Agamemnon’s students. Jeven was among them, and he also bore the surname Adams.
Although, after becoming a priest, “Adams” to Jeven was little more than a surname.
“Cleric Jeven.” Agamemnon bowed slightly in return. “You’ve worked hard these past years.”
“Affairs in Hailson are complicated—one could say the most complex in all of York Territory,” Agamemnon said.
Jeven replied, “The people there too long to hear the Lord’s teachings.”
Agamemnon laughed and said, “You are right.”
Jeven looked at Agamemnon.
Agamemnon pointed to a prepared map. Marked upon it were the places where churches had already been built, divided into three regions.
One was the core of York Territory, labeled the Diocese of York. The great and small churches there were already filled in with their assigned names.
To the south was the Adrian Diocese, overseen by Bishop Marl, where likewise every great and small church already had priests assigned.
To the north, York’s northern lands were marked as the Diocese of Rod, named after Rod City, where Jeven was soon to take office. This diocese covered the largest area but contained the fewest people. Only the portion near York Territory held close to twenty villages, many of which still lacked small churches. Beyond that, toward the direction of the Church Nation, there stood only the solitary Rod City.
“You know the situation of the Diocese of Rod,” Agamemnon explained. “It lacks priests, and because of scarce resources, the locals are particularly fierce. The First Batch of Apprentices of the Monastery, along with the local gentry, have long been entangled in power struggles, making it difficult for priests assigned there to preach.”
“But the greatest problem is still the cloud overhead. Because of this dark cloud, the eastern lands of the Diocese of Rod are nearly uninhabited. And Rod City itself lies near the Northern Kingdom, close to the site of the old decisive battle against the werewolves.”
“Adjacent to Rod City is land polluted by the heretics of the Church Nation.”
“Cicero has already led a group of laborers to construct the framework of Rod City, but its interior is still empty.”
“This is the Rod City you are about to take over. You must let the Lord’s glory shine there, and make His prayers resound.”
Jeven nodded solemnly and said, “I understand. I will give my life to fulfill this task, to let the Lord’s glory shine there, making it truly a place of His protection.”
Agamemnon laughed and said, “I am glad of your resolve. But you cannot go like this.”
Saying so, Agamemnon picked up a chest and handed it to Jeven.
Jeven opened it to find a red robe—the robe of a bishop.
Agamemnon said, “Though you may already have guessed, I still must congratulate you—Bishop Jeven.”
Jeven’s expression remained grave. More than joy at his promotion, he felt the corresponding weight of responsibility and pressure.
“In addition, I have summoned back Knight Bedi of the Honorary Knights Order. He will serve as your guard, together with his squire. They will be waiting with a carriage outside the Clock Tower tomorrow morning,” Agamemnon said. “Tonight, you must put on these robes and offer sincere prayer to the Lord here.”
Jeven nodded.
Agamemnon departed from the Clock Tower, closing the door behind him.
Jeven exhaled heavily.
No people. No cooperating officials or gentry. Fierce locals. Scarce resources. And on his way here, the merchant Aen had casually remarked that although one could travel north to the Northern Kingdom from there, the northern territories of York—the Diocese of Rod—were unsafe. Goods were often plundered by bandits, and since Hailson’s trade routes were already well-developed, merchants were unwilling to take such a long detour.
Moreover, Aen had said the Northern Kingdom’s eastern lands were in turmoil—utter turmoil. The gentry they traded with whispered of hoping the King would abandon those lands. Relentless conscription by the King left them miserable. Their villages lacked able-bodied laborers, and if conscription continued, they feared even their guards would be taken away.
Aen also mentioned that those northern gentry had asked him whether York Territory had slaves to sell them. In the frigid north, food was scarce, and it was difficult to sustain large populations.
Of course, Aen replied that York Territory had no more slaves, and so he declined.
There was also the oft-mentioned “madwoman of the Church Nation.” That woman, who had come to study from the Church Nation, had fought with members of the monastery many times because of this title. Even when pregnant, even beaten black and blue, she would still charge at anyone who uttered “those lunatics of the Church Nation.”
However, she had already finished her studies and returned to the Church Nation. As for her child, it had remained with the Church, under Agamemnon’s care.
But, seeing how that woman had behaved in the monastery, Jeven could not help but worry about dealing with the Church Nation.
If even the Church Nation was like this, what of those the Church Nation had condemned as heretics—the Original Sin Believers, whom the Church had declared must be purified? Though the mere thought of it made the task seem daunting, was this not precisely his mission as a Servant of the Lord?
Jeven slapped his cheeks, donned the bishop’s robes, and knelt before the cross to pray.
As he recited the prayer, his voice echoed through the room, reverberating. Gradually, golden light seeped down from above, spreading across the walls and finally converging beneath him.
In the midst of prayer, Jeven’s will grew dazed. He felt himself carried along a river, drifting who knew where. At his ears arose murmuring voices. Unconsciously, he strained to listen. Suddenly, he realized he had heard these voices before—they were praying. Some brought a smile to his lips, while others filled him with sorrow for their greed. Eventually, the voices faded, resolving into a single sound he could not understand. It seemed to say… “Awaken”?
Jeven opened his eyes.
…
On the fifth floor of the Clock Tower, Bishop Corleon floated in midair, his gaze calm.
That entire floor had already been eroded by his will, filled with light, as though cut off from the original space—a self-contained realm, echoing with countless murmurs.
The higher the power, the closer to the essence, the more easily one could become lost and assimilated. Though Jeven was well-suited for the frontlines, it was still too much for him to bear the Bishop’s Commandments.
Yet those who had touched Mystery would naturally be more ready to accept it. So Corleon had brought Jeven’s will into this fifth-floor space to let him experience Mystery.
With Corleon’s protection, Jeven’s will was not assimilated.
And when Corleon returned Jeven’s will, he naturally imparted the Bishop’s Commandments.
The “Lord” was omniscient and omnipotent. At least, in Corleon’s eyes now, there were very few things unknown. For example, in the Church Nation, the Original Sin’s Will, which had recondensed its intent, and the incarnate god of the Fishmen, had together launched an assault upon the Church Nation.
After Alice returned to the Church Nation, the last half-living member of the Three Sages fell into Eternal Sleep. Without the guidance of the Three Sages, the Church Nation could only rely on the power of the Patriarch to withstand the assault.
Alice had now gone to the Corlay Family seeking aid, but it was meaningless. The Corlay Family was entangled with the dark creatures of Blackrock Point and had no spare strength to involve themselves in the Church Nation’s troubles.
Moreover, the Church Nation itself had once bitten into them.