Chapter 266: Interpretation

The native warriors of the Diocese of York were being summoned, while the atmosphere inside Rod City was unbearably heavy.

They had already received Agamemnon’s message.

‘Confirmed, the Corlay Family maintains close ties with Dark Creatures. This is not permitted.’

Long, long ago—so long that none could recall when—the Treaty of Kings had already stated: ‘All nobles have the obligation to purge Dark Creatures. Any who defy this treaty shall be punished.’

Though in the present day, nobles and lords raising Dark Creatures were commonplace, if this reason was brought up in seriousness, it could only mean one thing.

War.

And war under the most legitimate of banners.

“Jeven guessed it right.” Melia said.

Leo replied, “Did this really need guessing?”

Vito said, “But Bishop Jeven has already gone there. Let’s hope he can survive until the army arrives.”

After releasing the White Dove that day, Jeven had told them: ‘I will go to the Principality of Corlay. This was my mistake, and I must do all I can to protect those civilians from being slaughtered in a meaningless war.’

Melia had asked Jeven: ‘Why are you so certain that war will happen?’

Jeven answered: ‘Because the Church has yet to set foot in that land.’

After saying so, Jeven had taken a horse and ridden after Jared.

Melia sighed. Even she could tell from Aen’s account, as well as Jared’s words, that this Grand Duke was not someone easy to get along with.

Vito offered some comfort: “At least that Grand Duke considers Bishop Jeven someone with whom he can speak as an equal.”

Equal dialogue did not mean Jeven would not be killed.

Olivia’s words had already been nearly an open declaration of war. Now, if someone deemed capable of speaking equally with the Grand Duke were to appear before him, perhaps killing that person would serve to boost morale.

Thinking of Olivia, Melia could not help but mutter, “Back then, when we first found her, we should have sent her back. She was a Grand Duke’s daughter after all.”

Leo and Vito exchanged glances but did not speak.

Men who had survived countless battles like them had no such naivety as Melia.

Vito eventually said, “What about those mercenaries and the Virtue Knights? Bishop Jeven said nothing about them before leaving.”

Aen, along with the mercenaries and laborers, had not left yet, and now the Virtue Knights also knew of Aen’s plight.

Melia said, “Since war is inevitable and those mercenaries are still here, of course we must hire them. Each additional man is an additional strength in battle.”

“As for the Virtue Knights, the same applies. Now they have fallen under the Wild Knights. If they are willing, I can also hire them at the price of knights. I will give Aen another token and, when he returns, have him post a war employment contract at the tavern.”

Vito said, “This is wartime hiring. The gold consumed will not be a small sum. What if the numbers exceed expectations?”

Melia said, “If there is overspending, I will go and beg the bishop’s forgiveness.”

Her position in charge of the Church’s logistics had been personally appointed by Bishop Corleon, and she reported directly to him, not to Agamemnon.

Although the minting of gold coins was the responsibility of the monastery, the decision of how much to mint, how much had been minted, and how much could be spent—all of these required Melia’s signature. In a sense, Melia was the wealthiest person in the Diocese of York.

Authority was one thing. How much could actually be mobilized was another.

Leo curled his lips into a grin. “I’ll go find Odysseus and the others.”

Melia said, “Then Sir Vito, I will entrust Aen and the mercenaries to you.”

Vito nodded.

Once the knights departed on their tasks, Melia turned to look at Olivia, who sat casually in the very center of Rod City.

At that moment, Olivia sat upright in the middle, eyes closed, breathing long and steady, as though some overwhelming aura was gradually condensing.

Melia did not approach. Even she could tell that Olivia’s surroundings were extremely dangerous.

Her eyes grew complicated.

‘They are not human.’ Agamemnon had told her so.

She could roughly discern it too. Even without considering Cicero, who could wield that Holy Relic, simply the fact that these two possessed such bewitching appearances—beyond anything humans could have—proved they were not human.

Yet now Olivia was truly revealing, before her eyes, a side of herself beyond mortals.

It had already been the fifth day. Since emerging from the tent that day, Olivia had sat here without eating or drinking, yet her petite frame showed no weakness. Instead, an ever-growing, crushing aura radiated from her.

They could not approach. Even Leo and Vito felt uncomfortable if they drew too near, while Melia had to remain at least twenty meters away.

‘What an overwhelming battle aura. Just stepping into her domain makes one feel as though they will be crushed to death beneath it.’ Leo sighed. ‘As expected of the bishop’s goddaughter.’

If Olivia revealed herself so, then what of Cicero?

Melia thought of him, absent for over two months now.

…

Though it was said seven days, Lord Jared in fact arrived at Blackrock City on the evening of the sixth day.

“Open the gates! I am Lord Jared, and I bring the Grand Duke’s guest to meet him!” Jared bellowed toward the gatehouse.

Jeven panted heavily. He had caught up with Jared and then ridden hard with him all the way here.

Other than brief stops to eat and sleep, all three had been on horseback.

But Jeven was not skilled at riding. His legs now felt rubbed raw.

Soon, Blackrock City’s gates opened. A squire went ahead to Blackrock Fortress to inform the Grand Duke, while Jared led Jeven to a massive carriage drawn by three muscular steeds.

“Word has already been sent to the Grand Duke. Please, Bishop Jeven, board this carriage. It is the Grand Duke’s own. A man of your esteem ought to rest within it.” Jared said.

Jeven hesitated, but still accepted the servant’s help and climbed aboard.

The carriage’s decorations did not strike Jeven as particularly elegant, but they were ostentatious—gold, silver, pearls, silks, and brocades—arranged with crude extravagance. One glance was enough to see its luxury.

The interior was vast, wide enough for five people to lie side by side. The reason for such space soon became clear, for within were two plump and beautiful women.

They wore only the barest covering, smiling alluringly as they received the trembling-legged Jeven from the servants.

Naturally, they began undressing Jeven. When he resisted, even slightly, they skillfully guided his hands away. One removed his garments while the other soothed him. In the end, Jeven could only allow their ministrations.

Inside the carriage, they washed his body with clean water, removed his trousers, cleansed the wound on his thigh, and bandaged it with fresh cloth. A faint fragrance lingered in the air.

“Do you require…?” the older woman glanced at his lower body and asked.

“No, thank you. That will not be necessary.” Jeven stiffly refused.

His body was one thing, but his mind was elsewhere—on how to persuade the Grand Duke, how to avert war.

He had rushed here driven by faith and conviction, but had yet to settle on the words.

Weariness crept in nonetheless. The pain in his thigh eased.

“If you need rest, you may do so here. You are an honored guest; the Grand Duke will not take offense.” the woman said.

Jeven shook his head. “No need.”

Yet despite his words, when the woman began pressing his shoulders and neck, his fatigue overcame him, and he drifted into sleep.

He awoke with a start, not knowing how long he had slept.

“You are awake. The Grand Duke awaits you. Please allow us to arrange your attire.” said the kneeling woman. She and her companion supported him, wiped his face, and dressed him once more in his freshly cleaned bishop’s robe.

When Jeven stepped down, he realized the entire carriage body had been detached and carried inside the fortress. Before him, seated on a throne, was the Grand Duke with heterochromatic eyes, watching him with great interest.

Lord Jared, now dressed in fresh garments, stood waiting at his side.

“Bishop Jeven of the Diocese of Rod, Sanctuary Church, comes to pay respects to the Grand Duke.” Jeven said.

“Welcome, Bishop Jeven.” Raymond said, gesturing. A squire immediately brought forth a chair behind Jeven.

Once Jeven sat, Raymond spoke: “Jared has already told me what that little girl said. He told me you, and several others of the Church, were there. Yet none opposed her words.”

“I am curious. Who is she?”

Jeven answered, “She is Bishop Corleon’s goddaughter.”

Raymond asked, “You are also a bishop, yet another bishop’s goddaughter holds more authority than you?”

Jeven did not respond, instead saying, “I came to propose a bargain with you.”

Raymond laughed. “That little girl has already declared war upon me. Do you think we still have grounds for negotiation? Or perhaps you are different from her?”

Jeven said, “Not a bargain of the past, but one of the future.”

Raymond asked, “The future?”

Jeven said, “I did not come for your sake, but for the civilians here. They are innocent. They should not die in this war.”

“Heh…” Raymond sneered. “Does not your Holy Scriptures divide clearly between sin and virtue? And according to them, no one in this world is truly without sin.”

Jeven said, “Whether they bear sin is for the Lord to judge. Their lives should not be cut short in this slaughter.”

Raymond smiled. “So you mean, you are certain the Church will win?”

Jeven said, “The Lord is past, present, and future. All things lie within His sight. This war is permitted by Him, and thus we shall claim victory.”

Raymond said, “That little girl told me I had defied the will of the Church, and so I was guilty and must be punished. Her judgment differs from yours.”

Jeven remained silent.

Raymond said, “Or perhaps that little girl, like that woman, can hear the Lord’s words and deliver them to mortals—a Saintess?”

Still, Jeven stayed silent.

Raymond said, “In the end, this is nothing more than the Church using my title as Grand Duke to showcase its might. That is the root of it all.”

“Mighty power, then conquest of all, making the world bend to the Church’s will. As for your so-called virtue—it is only the victor rewriting the rules.”

“As for these civilians you care so much about, do you really think the Church values them? They are but wheat. After harvest, you leave a little seed behind. Next year, it sprouts again from the soil.”

Jeven remained silent.

Raymond asked, “I hear the Church’s bishops handle the lords’ affairs?”

Jeven said, “Only when the lords request aid.”

Raymond said, “Then I also need an exalted bishop to help me govern my land.”

Jeven said, “Surely you already have your own administrator.”

Raymond said, “He grew tired.”

“Raymond! What are you doing! Do not forget—you became Grand Duke with my help!” an old man’s furious voice rang out from the shadows.

Raymond flicked his finger. With a crack, the old man’s head exploded, red and white spraying everywhere.

The headless body twitched twice before collapsing.

Raymond did not even glance his way. He continued staring at Jeven. “You see? He was tired.”

Jeven’s pupils shrank.

Raymond went on, “I have read the Church’s Holy Scriptures. The one who wrote them was Bishop Corleon, yes? In its preface he wrote: ‘I record here my dialogue with the Lord. May all who hear His teachings find their own virtue, and obtain the guidance they seek.’”

“My interpretation differs. Would Bishop Jeven care to listen?”

Jeven nodded slightly. “It is my duty as the Lord’s servant to listen.”

Raymond said, “The Scriptures speak of virtue and sin. Virtue should be upheld, sin should be purified. But to purge sin, one needs strength. To practice virtue, one needs greater strength.”

“Yet in your Scriptures, there is no explanation of how to gain greater strength. Or do they mean faith itself is strength?”

Jeven inhaled deeply. He felt this Grand Duke Raymond was not at all what he had expected. He was someone deserving of respect—or perhaps he had been waiting for Jeven all along.

Jeven pondered, turning over Raymond’s words.

Then Raymond said, “Indeed, I was waiting for you. I am curious about the Scriptures. As for those Dark Creatures, I alone could kill them all. But this tired old man sealed the land, forbade anyone from leaving. The nobles of the territory colluded with him, obeying his commands. They lusted for a restored kingdom, for a share of the Principality of Corlay’s land, perhaps even for unifying the Three Principalities of Greenwood by my power.”

“Once, Jared was among them. But some days ago, after meeting that merchant from the Church, he chose to side with me, revealing the truth of the blockade.”

“He wanted me to remain here in the Principality of Corlay, in the name of Grand Duke Corlay, to seize the land’s earth veins, devour the power of Holy Relics, and finally, like the Patriarch of the Theocracy, ascend.”

“I did not refuse, for it would make me stronger. And I believe only absolute strength can make the world move to my will.”

“But he deceived me. And according to the Scriptures, deceit is sin. So he was guilty. Thus, today, I passed judgment upon him.”

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