The Holy Church Begins with Bestowal of Blessings

Chapter 241 : From Eighty Thousand to Eight Thousand



Chapter 241: From Eighty Thousand to Eight Thousand

Although the Lord had not returned, when Cicero oversaw the construction of York City, he still built the Lord’s Castle.

It was not on the scale of a fortress, but a true castle.

To the right of the Lord’s Castle stood the Senate.

And now, the atmosphere within the Senate was somewhat strange.

The five Senators all remained silent, with Monk Agamemnon sitting at the Head Seat, quietly waiting for a response.

The response he awaited was to the question: “What is your plan to act against Viscount Youn?”

Bevan had originally been speaking with great passion about rallying one group, fighting another, and killing a third. Yet under Agamemnon’s calm gaze, his words gradually faded into silence.

Suddenly, Puniel let out a sneer, breaking the stillness.

“Right now, Viscount Youn’s territory has over eighty thousand people. What we want is nothing more than to turn those eighty thousand into eight thousand. That way, the matter there will be settled, and those people will understand that we bring them peace. But if they desire otherwise, we can also bring them war.”

“We can always deploy catapults on our side, fill in those poisonous swamps, and tear down the Great Wall. Most of my mercenaries are currently in the dungeons beneath the Northwind Mountains. Once the Wall is pried open, they can swiftly descend upon Viscount Youn’s territory. To these mercenaries, only profit matters—give them one gold coin, and they’ll kill ten people. Give a medium-sized mercenary band a hundred gold coins, and they’ll slaughter a village.”

“Viscount Youn holds a Holy Relic, but we have our people by his side. Assassination, poison, seduction—these little tricks may not kill him outright, but they can prevent him from sleeping peacefully. Either he grows weary and dies of exhaustion, or he perishes in his dreams. Even if he dares to recklessly wield the Holy Relic, by then, exhausted to such an extent, how many times could he still use it?”

“But in our view, killing him alone is not enough. Killing his bloodline is also not enough. Only when others see that we can massacre with a speed and efficiency rivaling a Holy Relic will they truly fall into despair.”

“It takes five days for warriors on foot to cross Viscount Youn’s lands. On the sixth day, when the Morning Star rises, the predetermined slaughter must be completed.”

“Of course, we will not kill them all. Survivors are needed—so they may go and tell the others that the power we wield is enough to drive them to despair.”

Naked slaughter was the purest rule of all. Agamemnon thought of the late Knight Wolf. Yet Knight Wolf’s massacres had been carried out by family and by village. What they spoke of now was by territory, by region.

Puniel continued:

“We chose him as our target long ago. Preparations began two years past. Even if he colludes with the dark creatures of the western Northwind Mountains, he cannot withstand our might. Even if nobles in the hinterlands raise banners to oppose us, it will only mean adding a few more territories to the slaughter, killing a few more people.”

“Our plan is this simple. So simple that, to us, dividing Viscount Youn’s land after the war ends is far more troublesome than killing him. After all, in York Territory, there is no system of conferring noble lands.”

The Senate grew heavier still. Administrator Piero lowered his head, as though to hide the rotted half of his face. Councilor Julian stared blankly at Agamemnon. Bevan kept silent. Jeoffrey sipped his black tea, savoring the new ingredients he had mixed in. Puniel gulped down honey wine in great swigs.

Agamemnon did not reprimand Puniel with words like “too cruel.” Instead, he said,

“Count Richard is still resisting the Fishmen’s assault. If York’s warriors are truly as strong as you claim, you should have sent them to his aid earlier.”

Bevan spoke:

“Count Richard does not mind our assistance. But his vassal nobles and local gentry refuse the help of York’s warriors. They only permit aid from the Church.”

“The Church is recognized. But York Territory and Adrian Territory are not in a subordinate relationship. The Adrian elite do not wish York’s influence to once again infiltrate their power.”

This was one of the issues arising after the Church had kept its distance from York’s native powers.

The situation across the former Principality of Patlin was in chaos. Nominally, the nobles who had stirred trouble in the south and even killed Knight Wolf had all sworn fealty to Lord Pegira. Yet Pegira had long since fled further south, failing to impose effective rule. Thus, these nobles acted as free lords, though they claimed legal allegiance.

But they were loyal to Pegira, not to York. Thus, York had no authority to interfere in their internal affairs—or rather, the Senate had no such qualification.

After all, who could say whether this self-established Senate was truly appointed by the Lord? Its authority derived only from administrative power once granted to Piero by Lord Pegira. With Knight Wolf now dead, even legally, the Senate had no right to mobilize armies. To do so would be usurpation.

On such grounds alone, nobles claiming allegiance to Pegira could condemn the Senate for overstepping and launch a “just war” against it.

As for the Church of the Sanctuary—did it possess clear, legitimate authority granted by the Lord to govern York’s affairs?

All nobles were the same. Count Richard’s case was even more complicated. He had never sworn fealty to Lord Pegira at all. He was a true free lord. With the Church’s proof that he bore the blood of the late Grand Duke Patlin’s eldest daughter, he could even restore the Principality.

Thus, Count Richard’s lands could accept aid from the Church, since the Church was recognized. But York’s army entering Adrian Territory would be an invasion.

Moreover, Adrian Territory had abandoned half its lands to defend against the Fishmen, forming an alliance with Count Gregor. After acquiring territory ceded by Gregor, Adrian and Gregor together created a wedge of defense against invasion.

Reduced lands meant reduced interests. The elites, whose lands had already been diminished, were unwilling to cede more power to outsiders.

As for the Fishmen—well, were they not unable to come over for the time being?

Puniel followed Bevan’s words:

“Perhaps if the Church steps forward to mediate, our warriors might be allowed into Adrian Territory.”

Agamemnon glanced at Puniel, then after a moment of silence said:

“I will let Bishop Marl speak with Richard. Even if cooperation cannot be reached, I still hope that catapults and powerful crossbows may be made available to Adrian.”

After becoming Bishop, Marl had requested the Senate to sell Adrian large-scale catapults and crossbows.

But the Senate only sold some medium and small ones, refusing to part with the truly large ones.

When Marl had been merely a Priest of York, the Senators considered his advice carefully. But now, as Bishop of Adrian, for him to interfere again in York’s affairs was deemed improper.

Thus, they blocked Marl’s requests.

Later, Marl wrote to the Church headquarters and the Monastery, who generously gave him schematics for large catapults.

But after reading them, Marl was dumbfounded. Their construction required not only traces of Magic and delicate gears—costly but solvable with effort—but also vast amounts of dark creature materials.

To build just one large catapult required at least twenty tendons from Werewolves. Vampire and Bear-Man tendons were even better. Adrian could not acquire such things. The largest supplier of dark creature materials was none other than Puniel.

Jeoffrey said:

“That is not a problem. Three large catapults, already in service but now outdated, can be sold to Count Richard.”

He spoke bluntly, not even hiding that they were obsolete and second-hand.

Puniel asked:

“And what about Viscount Youn? Will the Church take over, or shall we continue handling the matter?”

Agamemnon looked at Puniel. Their gazes locked. Finally, Agamemnon said:

“The Church will take over. Once the Church finishes with Viscount Youn, you may dismantle the Great Wall.”

Puniel asked:

“Do you need our help?”

Agamemnon replied:

“No need.”

Puniel said:

“Very well. But the timing—you know as well as I do, we have placed many of our people in Viscount Youn’s domain, and they need time.”

Agamemnon paused, then said:

“Fifteen days later, dismantle the Great Wall.”

“No problem.”

After finishing the matter of Viscount Youn, Agamemnon was the first to leave.

The Senate relaxed considerably.

Bevan looked at Puniel and said:

“You’re bold indeed, to openly say before him that eighty thousand should be cut down to eight thousand.”

Puniel took a swig of honey wine, glanced at Bevan, and said:

“I merely spoke the truth. Honesty is a virtue, and as it happens, I possess that virtue.”

Immediately, several sneers echoed in the chamber.

Puniel was unbothered. He said:

“This is the Church’s first time openly intervening in politics. Who knows what lies behind this matter? Those fools who lack reverence for the Church—you still don’t understand? Do you not hear the New Year’s bells resound every year?”

“Now the Church’s Priests set foot only to preach, doing nothing else. That is not enough to let those people witness the Church’s ‘greatness.’ The Church joining the Senate was always only a matter of time.”

He then turned to look at Piero.

“Administrator Piero, what do you think? According to the old customs, isn’t this supposed to be your task of negotiation with him?”

Piero finally raised his head. The rotten half of his face was already covered with a black silk cloth. His one visible eye calmly glanced at Puniel, then swept across the chamber before fixing on the Head Seat.

He said:

“I made a deal with a Mage. I asked him to divine how long I could live. He told me four years. Then he said, in truth, I should have already died this year. Yet here I am, alive as any man, even capable of being with women. He found it fascinating and asked that, after my death, I let him study me.”

“And today, Monk Agamemnon, who attended the Senate, will turn twelve next month. He has only four years until adulthood. Terry told me that once he comes of age, he will leave the Church and inherit the Adams Family estate.”

Piero withdrew his flat gaze and fell silent, his whole being seeming drained of vitality.

The other Senators exchanged glances.

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