Chapter 173: Choice

“Perhaps after you cooperate with Baron Belair, you might be able to drive the Werewolves out,” Jeffrey said, not knowing whether it was a comfort or mockery.

“Hah, that idiot Belair?” Puniel sneered. “He doesn’t even know what a noble should do. He was already humiliated face-to-face by those Local Gentry, and instead of taking advantage of the Knights and Warriors still loyal to him to kill all of them, he plays games with them.”

“That kind of person, striving to seize territory beyond his ability, ended up having his Honor and authority as a noble shattered by the united Local Gentry. Now, he is merely a puppet propped up by them.”

“They need him to sit on a seat no one dares to take, and then suck his power dry.”

“Can you believe it? This fool still doesn’t have an heir, yet instead of reflecting on the reason for that, he runs to request aid.”

“The Noble Bloodline of nobility makes our children difficult to survive, but it is also this Noble Bloodline that guarantees one child will survive.”

“Cooperating with such a fool—I might as well go at it alone.”

Puniel’s words were filled with utter humiliation toward Belair.

“After all, he was someone who was abandoned, never received a proper noble education. All the survival tricks he has were picked up from those prostitutes. Even if he does have a bit of cleverness, nobility is never something that can rely on mere cleverness,” Jeffrey seemed as if he were speaking in Belair’s defense.

Belair’s past wasn’t a secret. Naturally, they also knew what he had done before taking up the title of Baron.

“Moreover, if you have the confidence, you could go there and initiate a noble Proclamation, seize his territory, and once more become a de facto Baron with an actual fief,” Jeffrey said to Puniel.

“Baron Belair has to come here now just to buy food,” Puniel replied.

“The Local Gentry of the York Territory wouldn’t mind having another large customer who brings in profit,” Jeffrey said.

“My child Gregor will still be staying here,” Puniel said.

“I remember Gregor should be fourteen by now. That should be the age when he can enter the Church’s Monastery,” Jeffrey said with a smile. “As his uncle, I will take good care of him while you fight bravely, and with a brave father like you, he should be praised by others, and he should be Blessed by the Lord.”

“After all, I’m merely going to assist. Who knows if, after driving the Werewolves back, I might be recalled,” Puniel said.

“If it goes as Administrator Piero envisions, if those graduates of the Monastery are willing to head north to pioneer, they’ll certainly need the protection of a brave noble,” said Jeffrey.

“Who knows if Administrator Piero can convince them,” Puniel stood up.

“We ought to have faith in Administrator Piero. After all, he was close with the Bishop even when the Church was still just a Small Church,” Jeffrey remained seated.

“Then, let us Bless Administrator Piero with success in all things,” Puniel said and turned to leave.

Jeffrey sat quietly in the dim, cramped room, his eyes slightly narrowed as if in thought. In the end, he tucked away the blank parchment that had been in his hand.

…

Unaware of being Blessed by two Barons, Piero had arrived at the Great Church.

Only, the Great Church was tightly closed at the moment, with only two Temple Warriors at the entrance and Agamemnon already waiting.

“Monk Agamemnon, I have something I must report to the Bishop,” Piero slightly bowed, a sycophantic smile appearing on his face. The skin at the corner of his ruined half-face’s eye wrinkled into something like a grin.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Piero, but the Great Church is not open for entry at this time,” Agamemnon slightly nodded and said. “The Bishop is praying for communion with the Lord, beseeching the Lord to bestow Blessings when the Clock Tower chimes for the first time.”

“That is the Clock. That is the beginning of the New Year. That is the sign that we have witnessed the passage of time set by the Lord. That is the proof that we are following the Lord’s Teachings.”

Agamemnon spoke. After more than half a year of training, he had learned the manner of speaking used by the Servants of the Lord within the Church.

At least to Piero, it felt just like speaking with the Bishop back when he was still a Priest.

“Since this is such a great event, we ought to celebrate it. I am willing to donate eight hundred gold coins to the Church on behalf of the Senate to commemorate this grand event,” said Piero.

In the past, before the reforms to currency and the influx of Monastery Apprentices, he would have dared to say two or three thousand gold coins outright. But with the gold coin growing increasingly valuable now, he dared not speak recklessly.

“Thank you for your generosity. These gold coins will become turkeys, and those turkeys will be distributed to the devout Believers. That is the Lord’s gift. When the bell of the New Year rings, may there be a fragrant turkey on every devout family’s table,” Agamemnon slightly bowed in gratitude.

In truth, after half a year of breeding, the chicks had grown enough for a batch to be distributed to the Believers.

As for who would receive them, naturally it was the Great Church and those villages with a Small Church. And the final say on distribution belonged to the Priests of the Small Church.

As for villages without a Small Church, well, they would have to wait until one was established.

For instance, if the Believers in such a village took the initiative to build a Small Church, they might be prioritized due to their devoutness and have a Priest dispatched sooner.

Watching Agamemnon bow, Piero bowed even deeper.

“As for Mr. Piero’s request, the Bishop asked me to deliver a message,” said Agamemnon as he straightened up, his expression solemn. “The Apprentices of the Monastery are free. They pay gold coins, and the Monastery imparts Knowledge to them. This is a fair transaction. Perhaps because of the imparted Knowledge, their mentors may care for them and guide their future, but the Church will never interfere in their post-graduation paths.”

“However, guiding those in suffering is something the Church esteems. It is a manifestation of nobility. Such noble individuals deserve to be praised.”

After finishing, Agamemnon’s body relaxed a little, and a slight smile appeared on his face. He said to the thoughtful Piero, “Regarding the future of the Monastery Apprentices after graduation, you may discuss the matter with Scholar Oscar.”

Piero’s already bowed figure bent even lower as he nodded and said, “Alright, thank you for conveying the message. Please give my regards to the Bishop.”

With that, he raised his head and straightened slightly. He continued, “The clothing of the Adams Family is getting better and better in quality. I would like to place a bulk order as uniforms for the officials.”

“Thank you for your recognition. Grandmother will be very happy when she hears of this,” Agamemnon’s stance relaxed further, and the smile on his face became more fitting for his age.

“I will visit Adams Village in a few days.”

After Piero finished, he left the Great Church and headed toward the Monastery. On the way, he slightly raised his head to glance at the top of the Clock Tower. Around the spot reserved for the Clock, someone was already installing a frame.

Judging by their robes, they were likely Apprentices of the Monastery.

Piero suddenly laughed.

Apprentices who could even trouble three nobles were now treated as ordinary laborers in the Monastery.

…

After seeing Piero off, Agamemnon pushed open a narrow gap in the sealed Church door and squeezed inside.

Inside the Church, he walked to the main hall, where it was still peaceful. Corleon sat in the front row as usual, head bowed as if asleep.

“Mr. Piero has been sent off,” Agamemnon bowed slightly and said.

“You did well,” Corleon’s voice sounded.

To Agamemnon’s ears, it did not come from directly in front of him. It echoed from all directions.

Agamemnon paid it no mind. In these last few days within the Church, he had already grown used to such wondrous phenomena.

“I merely conveyed your will,” Agamemnon said humbly.

“Hah, sometimes, being able to accurately convey a message is a kind of ability,” Corleon chuckled and said.

Agamemnon lowered his head without replying.

“Are you adapting well to the powers of a Priest?” Corleon asked.

“…This power feels a bit too strong. Is it truly a power I can wield?” Agamemnon hesitated and asked.

“This is the power bestowed by the Lord upon a devout Servant. You should not resist it, but understand it, adapt to it, accept it,” Corleon said.

Unlike others who were barely up to standard and were appointed as Priests out of necessity, Agamemnon had truly met the standard of Faith, and his own aptitude was sufficient. Therefore, he could adapt to the powers of a Priest better. The powers he could display were already close to what Corleon had when he first came into contact with the Commandments of a Priest.

For example, while other Priests still needed to craft a Healing Potion using Divine Word before using it, Agamemnon could directly use Divine Word to heal most injuries.

“But just as written in the Burke Manuscript, that is the outflow of the Lord’s Might, is not something mortals can fully control. Therefore, you should also maintain restraint and reverence toward this power,” Corleon continued.

“Yes, I have read the Burke Manuscript thoroughly and memorized every line. Unless necessary, I will not use this power,” Agamemnon said.

Although the Burke Manuscript was not a Church Scripture that required memorization, Agamemnon still committed it to memory.

Corleon’s voice continued, “Agamemnon, you are a clever child. Your grandmother hopes you will leave the Church after coming of age and return to the family to inherit its affairs.”

“Though she no longer dares make that request aloud, it is only due to fear. In her heart, she still wishes for your return.”

“You are devout, but you are also her last blood relative. I will not force you to remain in the Church to serve the Lord, for before you are a Servant of the Lord, you are a son of man, the last boy of the Adams Family.”

“However, once the Clock Tower is completed, I will reside there. This Great Church will reopen. But now, aside from you, there is no one suitable to guide the incoming pilgrims as a Priest.”

“But the position of Priest in the Great Church is too important. Therefore, even though you are still a Blessed child of the Lord, I hope you can temporarily take on the role of Priest of this Great Church.”

“Yet precisely because this position is so important, once you accept this appointment, you must wholeheartedly serve the Lord.”

“After that, you will still be Agamemnon of the Adams Family—but you cannot be merely Agamemnon of the Adams Family.”

“This is a crossroads in your life. You must make a choice for your future.”

“You need not fear the Lord will blame you for your decision. It is your own choice, what you should realize for yourself. The Lord will only Bless you for being able to see your own path clearly.”

After the voice, echoing from all directions, gradually faded, Corleon left the power of decision to Agamemnon.

Just from his earlier conversation with Piero, Agamemnon already understood the difference between the two identities.

Although he was the youngest in the Monastery, in terms of qualifications within the Church, only Cicero could compare to him.

Moreover, unlike Cicero who dug holes everywhere, Agamemnon had been engaged in proper matters from the start, thus naturally held greater influence in the Monastery.

So he knew, if he chose to become the Priest of the Great Church, he would immediately possess the authority to command the Senate. But if he chose to return and inherit the family business, he would lose most of his privileges.

Because of this, he did not hesitate to give his answer.

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