The Holy Church Begins with Bestowal of Blessings

Chapter 308: The North Will Fall into Chaos on Its Own

“Then what of it.” Jeffrey said, “What we need are tamed Northerners, not these Northerners who submit out of fear.”

“Besides, they won’t hand over the North to us just because of this. To them, Greenwood is nothing but cowards.”

Puniel slammed the table hard and said harshly, “If they don’t submit, then we fight a war—fight until they no longer dare to speak such words.”

Jeffrey gave Puniel a look as if staring at a fool. “With what will you fight? With those mercenaries you’ve raised, or with that little wealth you’ve saved? Remember, you currently have no authority to deploy troops.”

Puniel’s anger dissipated, and he sat back down in his seat.

Back when power was first divided and he was given the right to manage mercenaries, he had been elated.

According to tradition, whoever commanded more strength had greater influence, and at the time, he believed the mercenaries he controlled were true power.

Yet now, those unruly mercenaries were growing harder to control. And if his supply to them were ever cut off, they would abandon him without hesitation.

‘Power’ was no longer merely about warriors—it also included gold coins.

As long as Bevan and Jeffrey threw out gold coins, those mercenaries would betray him without hesitation and defect under their banner.

Thus, among the three councilors, he—the weakest—ended up being assigned the most fertile land outside York Territory itself.

But in order to keep hold over his mercenaries, he now even had to sacrifice the income from his own lands.

And he dared not stop. Once those mercenaries completely broke free from his control, who could say if he would be expelled from the Senate.

Truth be told, the affairs of the North did not much concern him. He simply wanted the Mercenary Tavern to serve other purposes—and also to do a favor for Marl, hoping Marl would help him remain in the Senate.

But after Agamemnon spoke, he began to pay true attention. For compared to Marl, Agamemnon clearly wielded greater authority within the Church. And if their prediction was not mistaken, in a few years Agamemnon would also sit within the Senate, taking up real power as a councilor.

Puniel regained his composure and said, “Since the mission over there has already been completed, then send him his payment. Also, I’ll send people to negotiate with them about establishing the Mercenary Tavern.”

Jeffrey spoke up, “For that former Church Knight’s payment—besides what he requested, give him another five thousand gold coins.”

Puniel was startled. Bevan, thoughtful, asked, “You mean… to pour these coins into the North?”

Jeffrey nodded. “Give him some, and when discussing the Mercenary Tavern, buy the land directly with coins, just like when we purchased land from Baron Morn. Of course, the nobles of the North are not as weak as Baron Morn, so we’ll only buy land, not rights. And we must buy at high prices: three thousand coins for a tavern in a barony, five thousand in a viscounty, ten thousand in a county, fifteen thousand in a marquisate, and for the Northern King’s Frozen Furnace Castle—thirty thousand coins straight.”

Bevan did the math and said with some relief, “That would instantly absorb more than three hundred thousand gold coins.”

Jeffrey added, “And more than that. Did not the Lord perform a miracle this time? The commoners’ granaries are already full. The Senate could not bear to see their wheat rot in cellars, so gold was spent on buybacks. Though the Church will not allow the price of wheat to exceed limits, this wheat can be shipped north. Northerners love meat, but bread made from wheat flour also fills stomachs.”

“And this wheat can be brewed into rye beer. Merchants have said before—the Northerners prefer such coarse beer to honey wine. Stock these in your Mercenary Taverns, then purchase Northern beast pelts at high prices without limit.”

“Gold, goods, mercenaries—with two levers in hand, we can swiftly draw the Northern wanderers beneath the taverns and make them mercenaries, turning it into their way of survival.”

Bevan said, “This could work, but the pace of spending coins is still too slow.”

Jeffrey turned to Puniel. “Didn’t you want power beyond just the Mercenary Tavern? I have an idea—don’t know if you’d dare to do it.”

Puniel’s eyes narrowed. “Would it incur the wrath above?”

Jeffrey chuckled. “Of course not. If it did, I’d be held accountable as well.”

Puniel asked, “Then what is it?”

Jeffrey replied, “Do you still remember when we imitated King Lundex’s act with the ‘First Warrior’?”

Puniel thought for a moment, then recalled the consequences. “That time we were warned.”

Jeffrey shook his head. “That was only a warning against spreading propaganda. What I mean is—just build an arena. Gladiators win gold by fighting, and the more consecutive victories in an arena, the more gold they earn. Eventually, I believe these warriors will grow fond of such a generous arena master.”

“And the North already has a gladiatorial culture. Doing it there should cause no problem—they’ve lived this way for years.”

“Moreover, with gladiator rankings, it’s natural to prevent a Fourth-Rank Knight from fighting a mere Second-Rank Warrior. So this can be implemented easily.”

Puniel hesitated, but thinking of his waning control over the Mercenary Taverns, he finally nodded firmly. “I’ll do it.”

Bevan then said, “But arenas also require land. So after Mercenary Taverns are built, your arenas will also need land purchases.”

Jeffrey continued, “And both the arenas and the taverns need laborers for construction, and they must be paid. But to make this work, Northerners must first recognize the value of York gold coins.”

Bevan smiled with confidence. “That, you needn’t worry about.”

Then both turned to Puniel. “This task is yours to take, and for now you are also the greatest beneficiary—so you must go speak to Piero.”

Though three hundred thousand gold coins had to be spread quickly by the Senate, it still had to be done carefully, or else the gold system painstakingly built in Greenwood would collapse again.

And since arenas, like taverns, gathered unstable elements of society, they too required Piero’s approval.

Puniel did not hesitate. “Of course. And Jeffrey, if this succeeds, I’ll owe you a favor.”

In the past, favors in politics were measured by how many knights one commanded.

But now, with the Church involved, a favor was a debt truly to be repaid.

Jeffrey added, “You may consult Monk Cicero. I imagine he would be very interested in building an arena.”

Puniel nodded.

At this moment, Bevan asked, “And the plan to stir up base desires and elevate the reputation of that former Church Knight—do we continue it?”

Jeffrey replied, “Of course. The Mercenary Taverns and arenas are merely side benefits of completing Agamemnon’s task. That plan is our true objective.”

Puniel asked, “And what of the Fiends?”

Jeffrey countered, “How are the Fiends any different from Werewolves? We are not those Northern nobles who need Fiends to crown a Supreme King. And I think, after the Frost Giants trampled the North, the people’s fervor for a Supreme King has cooled greatly.”

…

As Jeffrey said, the Northern nobles’ fervor for a Supreme King dropped sharply.

The Greenwood cowards had slain the Frost Giant—slain it right at the border, before it killed a single man in Greenwood.

Their spies only saw from afar a flourishing grassland, as if the Frost Giant had never passed through.

Then, if a Supreme King did arise in the North—could he really march beyond?

They thought of the last Supreme King.

He had only unified the North, then halted after seizing a sliver of Woodlands.

And now, the North already stood united under one name.

“So, what do you plan to do next?” Aureus placed the letter delivered by Rat Path onto the table.

The Northern bloodlines brimmed with aggression. Though their fervor had dimmed briefly after the Frost Giant’s death, it would surely rise again in time.

For now, however, their moves mattered less—what mattered was that Greenwood had come.

They delivered Hod’s payment—and even added five thousand coins.

Moreover, merchants brought thirty thousand coins, seeking to buy land in Frozen Furnace City for a Mercenary Tavern.

Aureus did not know what Greenwood was planning. He thought to refuse, but recalling how lack of coins had once hindered the continuation of his bloodline, he accepted.

From Rat Path, he also learned each York coin was worth five of the old.

Thus, thirty thousand coins could easily clear his debts.

But when he asked, Rat Path refused.

“To ensure deterrence, the curse we cast cannot even be undone by ourselves.”

Since even the caster could not lift it, Aureus abandoned the thought.

Instead, he pondered what Greenwood’s people aimed to achieve.

Yet while he pondered, the Greenwood councilors did not rest.

With Greenwood merchants’ goods and shipments of wheat and rye beer, York coins quickly became popular in the North.

Thus, nobles who usually resisted the Northern King’s orders, upon seeing chests of coins, yielded without hesitation.

None of them dared steal. After all, Greenwood had just slain a Frost Giant—one stomp of its foot could destroy a marquis’ city.

Almost as if timed, after the nobles accepted the coins, shipments from York arrived.

Wheat, rye beer, flashy yet useless luxuries, and items Greenwood had but the North lacked, like honey.

The pragmatic nobles stockpiled food, while those with spare coins bought luxuries to adorn their castles.

So, during hunts and visits, when one noble saw another clad in fine robes embroidered with golden bear motifs—while he himself only slung a bearskin over his back, bare-chested—he indeed felt far too barbaric.

And once nobles thought this way, the local gentry, eager to raise their status with luxuries, spent lavishly.

When they had grown accustomed to York coins, one Mercenary Tavern after another rose. Laborers were paid in York coins.

But what followed caught Jeffrey and the others unprepared.

These laborers returned home, only to have their coins seized by their lords or gentry.

Everywhere but the Northern Royal Capital, the same occurred.

At first shocked, the councilors remembered—years ago, when they were still lords themselves, they had done the very same.

So, no problem.

Then, stories long prepared were spread among those robbed of their coins—tales of mercenaries who, humiliated, fled their lords, joined Mercenary Taverns, hunted Dark Creatures, slew Snowfield Bears, claimed bounties and treasures, won the favor of noble daughters, and ascended to life’s peak.

Such tempting words, combined with the Northerners’ innate battle fervor, spurred many laborers to flee their domains and join Mercenary Taverns elsewhere.

So Puniel, still wondering how to recruit the first Northerners, simply stopped thinking.

…

Inside Frozen Furnace Castle.

“Once we have a group, the wanderers will see how these Northern mercenaries earn rewards by their own strength, walking beneath the Morning Star. They will not be able to resist becoming mercenaries.” Aureus said to Hod.

“Then, just as they promised you, they will glorify these deeds, and soon Northern mercenaries will explode in numbers.”

Aureus sighed. “Once the mercenaries become a true force, with Greenwood’s warriors—those who slew Castag—backing them, the days of unchecked Northern nobles will be over. Perhaps soon, what happened in Greenwood will happen in the North as well.”

“Commoners killing warriors. And then killing nobles.”

“Terrifying, isn’t it? Once supported by real power, the brilliance of human wisdom can topple the Northern power structure with ease.”

“Without Greenwood even sending an army—just those two men who slew Castag as deterrence will suffice. The North will fall into chaos on its own.”