Chapter 1: Flower Church

Principality of Patlin, York Town.

Hooves stepped over, trampling the red saffron into the mud.

The knight dismounted, took the water handed over by Corleon who stood nearby, and gulped down a large mouthful.

“Good morning, Priest Corleon.”

After catching his breath, the knight finally greeted.

The armor on his body was somewhat worn; even though it had been carefully maintained by its owner, years of service inevitably made it appear a bit shabby.

“Good morning, Knight Borien,” Corleon said, glancing at the emblem on the knight’s chest.

“Haha, you noticed.”

Knight Borien saw Corleon’s gaze, laughed aloud, and then carefully caressed the emblem on his chest.

It was the double lion crest of the Elbert family, the lords.

Being formally granted this emblem meant that Borien had finally transitioned from a knight’s squire of twenty-three years to a knight.

“It was Sir Helvin who personally conferred the honor upon me; now I am the tenth official knight of York.”

His voice was filled with joy.

Naturally, he was delighted; becoming a knight meant he would have his own fief, be supported by commoners, no longer needing to serve under another knight, and could proudly fight for the lord.

“Congratulations, Knight Borien,” Corleon said, offering his congratulations as he naturally took the reins and tied the horse in the simple stable outside the church.

Borien’s eyes showed satisfaction; he was a knight, while Corleon was merely a priest of this church.

He felt the real sense of being a noble knight.

“Alright, Priest Corleon, besides visiting you, I have something to ask for your help with this time,” he said after enjoying Corleon’s service of tying the horse.

“Glad to be of service.”

Rubbing some grease off his hands from handling the reins, Corleon slightly bowed and said.

“It’s like this: the young man from the Lundex family offended Miss Mary, insulting the honor of the Elbert family, so Sir Helvin is preparing to declare war on the Lundex family, and I will be the vanguard in this war.”

Knight Borien held his head high.

The Lundex family was also noble, but their title was merely baronet, and they were only in the first generation.

Compared to the Elbert family, which had been viscounts for seven generations, it was like commoners to nobility.

With such a disparity, how dare the Lundex family offend the lady of the Elbert family?

It was nothing more than Viscount Helvin wanting to take advantage of the chaos following the death of Grand Duke Patlin, while the Patlin family was still in turmoil over succession, to annex the Lundex family’s territory.

However, Corleon didn’t care; this was the rule of the land.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Although I don’t think the Lundex family can withstand my attack, I am just a newly appointed knight and haven’t officially selected qualified squires in my fief, so I can only recruit militiamen from the fief.”

“However, these untrained militiamen might be timid when facing war for the first time, so I hope Priest Corleon can bless them, so they can fight bravely.”

Borien made his request.

There was no fundamental difference between a fief and a territory; only the ownership differed.

The ownership of the fief belonged to the lord, while the knight enjoying the fief only had the rights to it, without actual ownership.

Therefore, although knights could recruit people from the fief as temporary militiamen, the quality was questionable.

Such hastily assembled militiamen might only be given a wooden spear and then sent to the front lines to face the fiercest wave of attacks.

So, fear was normal.

But for the high-spirited Knight Borien, this was his first battle after being knighted, and he was the crucial vanguard.

He didn’t want his glorious battle to end hastily, so he sought out Corleon.

“No problem. How many of them are there, and when will they arrive?”

Corleon asked.

“There will be about twelve people. I will bring them over before Venus sets tomorrow, and they will camp near the church for a night. After I swear allegiance to the lord, I will lead them to the battlefield.”

The glory-seeking Knight Borien didn’t want any delays; he even paid out of his own pocket to have someone go to the fief in advance to notify the villagers.

“Alright, Knight Borien, I will prepare everything.”

Corleon slightly bowed his head.

“I believe you won’t disappoint me.”

Borien patted Corleon’s shoulder and said.

Then he untied the reins that had just been fastened, mounted his horse, and left without looking back.

He didn’t even enter the church.

…

The Flower Church got its name from the circle of saffron flowers planted around it.

After the elderly priest who had adopted Corleon passed away, Corleon took over his duties.

Corleon was not a native, but a transmigrator.

However, when he arrived in this world, he had the body of an infant.

Just as he thought he would die right after transmigrating, the old priest adopted him.

This, too, was part of the church’s duty.

To take in orphans.

This world had magic, and the physical abilities of its people far exceeded even the boxing champions of Corleon’s past life.

Take Knight Borien for example—Corleon believed that in his previous world, if Borien only used cold weapons, he could easily cut down a hundred men.

The church existed mostly to serve the needs of the lords—to pacify the people when oppression pushed them to the brink of rebellion, teaching them to endure.

However, both the current and previous generations of lords treated their people relatively well, so there was no major public resentment.

Gradually, the Flower Church’s primary role had become simply to bury the common folk.

The nobility had their own sanctuaries for worship—that was also a clear distinction between nobles and commoners.

He gently lifted the trampled flowers.

Saffron—a very ordinary name, something you could mention offhand.

It was a common flower found everywhere, not particularly beautiful. Only occasionally would a peasant girl pluck one and wear it in her hair as decoration.

When he stood up, the high-spirited Knight Borien was already out of sight.

He turned and pushed open the church door.

Inside was narrow.

The seats were just a few wooden stumps, barely enough for ten people.

“So, for twelve people, the blessing will have to be conducted outside,” Corleon concluded.

This so-called blessing was nothing more than giving these lost people a reason to face death.

This was just a church placed at the edge of York Town, not even protected by walls—how could it possess any mysterious power?

That was why, from as far back as Corleon could remember, he had never seen a blessing conducted in the church.

The old priest once told him that when he was young, during a war that lasted three years between the previous Elbert lord and other lords, blessings were frequent.

The old priest said, if one day you’re required to perform a blessing, just utter some incomprehensible sounds, then place your hand on their heads, and say, “Glory above all else.”

Even though those people might rather hide at home.

This was the standard blessing routine for marginal priests like them.

But Corleon didn’t want to be so perfunctory.

He believed this was an opportunity.

An opportunity to ignite faith.

When he came to this world, he was accompanied by a sphere of light called “Faith.”

By gaining faith and fulfilling its desires, it could give birth to commandments.

Those who followed these commandments would receive power granted by them.

Unfortunately, although he was in a church, its role as a tool of the lord left no room for the birth of true faith.

But now, Corleon felt that his chance had come.

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