Chapter 210: Gregor Truly Bears Your Bloodline

After ensuring that these apprentices could work diligently, Marcus no longer involved himself further. If it was merely about restoring order to these villages according to the predetermined arrangements, these apprentices trained by the Monastery could accomplish it with ease.

Thus, after that, Marcus chose to find a secluded place to study the Church’s Holy Scriptures.

He did not return to Puniel’s fortress.

Having finally obtained a degree of freedom, he certainly would not willingly go back on his own.

So he went to the village under Cliff’s charge.

Previously, Cliff had been assigned by Puniel to maintain order in the existing lands, and after Puniel returned, Cliff—like his companions—took a group of people to establish a village.

Because Cliff had not been subjected to Marcus’s harsher teachings in the past, he bore little resentment toward Marcus. Furthermore, having learned from Puniel the necessity of humility, Cliff treated Marcus, this scholar, with much respect.

Satisfied with Cliff’s attitude, Marcus decided to stay there. In his spare time, he did not mind, as he did now, teaching Cliff some knowledge.

Cliff asked Marcus, “So, you think this place has enough potential?”

Marcus shook his head, lifted the Holy Scriptures in his hand, and said, “It is not that this place has enough potential, but rather the will of the one who holds supreme authority.”

“If what I currently understand, combined with what you’ve told me, is true—regarding the Church of the Sanctuary’s doctrine and their unwavering faith—then anyone who can improve the lives of the commoners at the bottom will surely be valued by the Church.”

“And for people like you, who have no family or faction behind them to provide resources, the Church’s favor is your most important resource.”

“You must understand, those who provide you resources will inevitably demand something in return, and that demand might drag you into an abyss. However, the Church’s only requirement of you is to ensure that the commoners can live well. They don’t even require you to spread the Lord’s teachings yourself; they have priests specifically assigned for that.”

“Think about it—comparing the risks and rewards, by continuing to work here, won’t you be able to win the favor of the one who holds supreme authority without the slightest risk? Of course, it will take a long time—three years? Five years? Or perhaps a lifetime? No one can say for sure, so this is something you must judge for yourself.”

“Of course, all of this assumes the Church of the Sanctuary truly is as the Holy Scriptures describe it, and that their faith from top to bottom is the most steadfast.”

Marcus finally tapped the Holy Scriptures toward Cliff.

Cliff was unsurprised by Marcus’s words. He had personally seen Puniel’s attitude toward the priests of the Church of the Sanctuary, which was why he had decided to remain here.

This was also the gamble he had chosen.

Naturally, he had ambition for power—otherwise, he would never have risked offending the people of York Town in proposing the establishment of a new city.

He was merely a devout believer, not a servant of the Lord who must devote his entire life to spreading the Lord’s glory and teachings.

Every choice he made stemmed from his ambition to attain greater power. Without ambition, Sir Puniel would never have chosen to teach him.

Without ambition, there was no value.

Cliff asked, “Teacher Marcus, what do you think I should do next?”

He sought Marcus’s guidance, and the use of “teacher” brought a faint smile to Marcus’s face.

Marcus said, “Isn’t their farming season limited now? And aren’t they mainly living off the grain transported from York Territory? That’s due to the Church’s goodwill, freely providing it without condition. So, shouldn’t they express gratitude to the Church?”

“For example, they could show their thanks to the Church by building a small church for prayer. During the off-season, they could recite the Holy Scriptures or listen to the lofty tales of the Church’s knights—didn’t Knight George save a thousand people? Those rescued might even share some blood ties with them.”

“There are many things that could be done. It just depends on whether you’re willing to do them.”

Cliff nodded thoughtfully.

…

The requests from apprentices wishing to follow and return were delivered to Puniel, but Puniel merely sneered. After confirming that none of the letters came from Cliff, he was about to order the applications burned.

However, Marl stopped him and asked that Puniel take those apprentices along when he returned.

Puniel naturally did not care. These fools were beneath his notice.

Orders were issued from Puniel’s fortress, mobilizing warriors and knights.

Knight Bode and those who had once lived in Glory Fortress volunteered to remain.

After all, they had come from the Glory Fortress of the Church of the Sanctuary. And they now knew that, the day after they left, the bishop had given the three remaining knights official positions. This fact alone made them too ashamed to return.

Puniel was quite regretful—he had hoped that these knights willing to follow him would enjoy the honor of a triumphant return.

Still, he understood their awkwardness and said nothing further.

Of course, his wish for them to return with him also had the ulterior motive of giving the local gentry an opportunity to stir up trouble.

Time passed. After seven days of arranging this territory, Puniel finally led the warriors who had been on expedition for nearly half a year back home.

…

In truth, when Puniel set foot in York Town, he felt some regret.

He saw the ongoing construction of the new York City and heard that Monk Cicero, who oversaw its building, planned to erect a triumphal arch outside York City specifically to welcome victorious warriors home.

If he had waited another year or two—fully consolidating the Marquis’s lands before returning—he might have been the first to pass through that arch.

However, the honor of ceremony could never outweigh actual power.

Another regret, of course, was the absence of pure maidens presenting garlands.

“So tell me, esteemed Baron Puniel—when you were still in your own lands, did you ever find a pure maiden there?” Administrator Piero said with mocking tone.

After walking the Road of Glory, the warriors celebrated in the town, the Church’s people returned to the Church of the Sanctuary, and Puniel, naturally, went to the Senate.

Puniel had already changed out of his armor and into clothing with a touch of luxury.

“You managed to find them before,” Puniel replied.

Piero snorted. “Those were the ones the gentry themselves had kept. After that, the girls feared retaliation from their lords and chose to marry.

“Pure maidens recognized as such and still of age are, naturally, highly sought after. Especially since Sarah married Priest Marl—her connections and protection have given the other girls a little bit of freedom.

“After that last batch of pure maidens, the younger girls haven’t yet grown to maidenhood.

“Of course, if you come back in five years, I could arrange ten pure maidens for you.”

Piero looked at Puniel with eyes that seemed to say, “Why couldn’t you stay there just a little longer?”

Puniel acted as though he didn’t notice, replying, “That would be five years. The young men yearning for the glory of return wouldn’t endure that long. And I, as a merciful noble, would never suppress these young men’s desire for glory.”

Then he looked at Piero, especially at his half-rotted face. “Besides, in five years, I might not even see you anymore.”

As nobles and senators, they naturally attracted some gentry who wished to align themselves with them. Therefore, they all knew well the kind of retaliation Piero had suffered from these gentry.

They also knew that Piero’s life was already on countdown.

He had no scholar serving him. Even though he had survived by bloodletting and endurance, the accumulated poison would still claim his life—unless the Church intervened.

And from the look of things, the Church had no intention of doing so.

“Hmph.” Piero understood Puniel’s meaning, but only snorted coldly.

Puniel then placed three bottles on the table, coughed lightly, and slightly raised his voice. “Of course, this time I haven’t forgotten you old friends, so I brought you some powdered werewolf bone.”

“This will help you be… more vigorous.” Puniel smiled in a way everyone understood.

Jeffrey chuckled and said, “I hardly need it—seven women are already pregnant by me. Any more and it’ll be troublesome in the future.”

Even so, he still took a bottle. “Of course, since it’s a gift from you, I must accept. Otherwise, it would be disrespectful.”

Bevan said nothing, just took a bottle and added, “I already have thirteen women pregnant, and frankly, I think you might need it more than we do.”

Puniel blinked in confusion at Bevan.

Piero, taking a bottle, picked up where Bevan left off. “When the Monastery recruited the third batch of apprentices, I sent Yulia there. She’s an obedient girl, and because of that, many pursued her—including your son, Gregor.”

Puniel fell silent, a bad feeling rising.

Piero stored away the powdered werewolf bone and continued, “Originally, Gregor was pursuing another third-batch female apprentice, but when her belly started growing in March, Gregor was furious. Oh, I must say, he truly has your bloodline—very ‘noble’ in inviting that pregnant girl to dinner.”

Piero put emphasis on “noble,” and Puniel understood well—it was the old kind of nobility.

“In the end, that female apprentice’s roommate, Miss Melia, found out, and she, along with her friend Miss Olivia and Monk Cicero, cornered Gregor in an alley and beat him up.”

“You can rest assured—they were very measured. They didn’t kill or cripple him, and after being observed by the apprentices of the Biological Discipline for two days, he was fully recovered.”

“Of course, I think you should thank Monk Agamemnon for accompanying him.”

Though Piero’s tone was meant to be comforting, Puniel’s face grew darker. At this point, killing Gregor outright might have been better.

“Gregor truly bears your bloodline—after realizing that female apprentice was out of his reach, he turned to pursuing Yulia. Only after learning she was my daughter did he formally take action.”

“He said Yulia had caught his eye, and once he inherited your title of nobility, she would become the baroness. So he warned the other apprentices to stay away from Yulia.”

“Of course, the Monastery is full of people who neither fear nor respect nobles and love to challenge their authority. So, the second-batch apprentices took their revenge on him.”

“But Gregor truly bears your bloodline—he single-handedly knocked down all seven second-batch apprentices who tried to corner him.”

By this point, Puniel’s face had darkened so much that the attendants fell to their knees, not daring to look at him.

“And when those second-batch apprentices couldn’t get their revenge through force, they used their brains, claiming Gregor had beaten them to prove his strength.”

“Oh, Gregor truly bears your—”

Crack! Puniel slammed his fist onto the table, shattering it, and said in a voice heavy with restrained fury, “Just tell me the result—no more unnecessary words. Otherwise, you might not see the White Star tonight.”

Piero shrugged. “Gregor is not good with words, so when he was falsely accused, he beat them up again. Of course, no one died—he only broke each of their legs. And he did it right in front of Scholar Rudolf and Scholar Caleb.”

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