Chapter 329: Crown of Thorns

The Northland War had basically settled. What remained was for Aen’s warriors to take over the territories. Because of this, the trade routes from Greenwood to the Northland, once sealed off, were reopened.

Odysseus led the other Virtue Knights along this newly opened route, hurrying toward York City.

However, the white dove soaring through the skies reached York City faster than they did.

Bishop Jeven had already arrived in York City, so the white dove sent by Aen flew directly there.

Releasing the dove, Jeven held the letter sent to him by Aen as he stepped into the Clock Tower.

Priest Agamemnon stood before the small wooden platform on the first floor, his head bowed in prayer.

Before him, a cross embedded in the wall seemed to emit a faint glow under the illumination of candles on both sides.

“Aen has sent word. The people of the Northland are already rallying behind him as their Supreme King.” Jeven said.

“As it should be.” Agamemnon did not turn around. He only gave a simple reply.

Jeven gazed at Agamemnon’s back, his heart complicated.

Neither Jeven nor anyone else in the Church of the Sanctuary ever doubted Agamemnon’s Faith.

In fact, among the one hundred and twenty-three priests and bishops in the Church of the Sanctuary at present, aside from Bishop Marl, almost all could be said to have been brought up under Agamemnon’s guidance.

And yet now, Jeven could receive revelations from the Lord, but Agamemnon could not.

The superficial reason, naturally, was that Agamemnon was still a priest, not yet a bishop.

But in truth, even when he called upon the Lord here, or upon the Pope, Agamemnon received no response.

As a bishop, Jeven could easily guess at the secret hidden within this Clock Tower.

Previously, Agamemnon had been able to converse with the Pope at any time—something even the four bishops themselves could not do.

So now, was Agamemnon abandoned?

No, Jeven was certain he was not.

The Lord loved mankind. Agamemnon had been among the earliest followers, and his powers as a priest had not failed. He had done nothing wrong. On the contrary, he had struck a fine balance between the Church’s authority over Faith and the Senate’s political power, managing both well. Jeven could not believe such a person would be abandoned.

Then what could it mean?

Jeven thought it must be that Agamemnon was being made to choose for himself.

The Lord loved mankind. The Lord could favor the Church of the Sanctuary, but He could not possibly love only the Church of the Sanctuary.

And now that the Northland had been pacified—should it, like Greenwood, accept the Faith of the Lord through the Church of the Sanctuary?

When Aen’s army, fighting without a Holy Relic, had slain a viscount who wielded one, Jeven already understood: the Lord had determined the Northland’s future. That was why he came to York City in advance.

It was the entirety of the Northland. How should it be handled?

Jeven was not the most capable bishop in the Church.

Bishop Marl could lead armies and understood politics. With force, he could bend the Adrian Diocese to his will.

The Adrian Diocese now included not only the territory of Marquis Richard Adrian, but also two neighboring viscounts, six barons, and more than ten lords. Its reach stretched from the former Adrian County all the way to the coast—a corridor that covered nearly one-fifth of the Former Principality of Corlay’s lands.

Bishop Jeremiah excelled at political balance. Now Marquis Gregor Doyle and Marquis Gab Bowles of the neighboring Principality of Valorian maintained excellent relations. They often held tournaments and banquets at the border, even arranging marriages between knights of the Doyle Knight Order and noble daughters from Marquis Gab’s domain.

They were almost like family. At the same time, in Doyle’s territory, Jeremiah expanded the army, even requiring subordinate nobles to raise additional troops.

Each noble added only a little, but when war truly broke out, the number of troops that could be summoned would be terrifying.

As for why the expansion was necessary…

Jeremiah’s reasoning to the Senate was that, since the territory had many people and much wealth, to prevent waste of resources, conscription was reluctantly required.

Meanwhile, in the Land of Anathema, Bishop Landon practiced self-mortification—fasting, kneeling naked in the rain, and other forms of penance—in hopes of redeeming the sins of that cursed land.

Jeven disagreed with such practices, yet he admired Landon nonetheless. For Landon had indeed gathered a circle of followers who also prayed for the Lord’s Mercy by offering themselves in penance for the Land of Anathema.

As for Bishop Claudy, the head of the diocese in York Territory where the Church was based…

Jeven himself was not as capable as these men. He knew a little of the military, a little of politics, a little of Faith—but only a little of each.

And so, after foreseeing that the Northland would soon be pacified, Bishop Jeven hastened back to York City.

An entire Northland—and it was under Aen’s leadership, with Jeven’s support, that the land was conquered.

Jeven knew that many hands had pushed events behind the scenes. But the fact remained: the Northland had been subdued. Now, what was to be done with it?

At least Jeven felt he could offer no decision.

After all, he only knew a little of everything.

Yet when he returned, he learned that Agamemnon had been praying here in the Clock Tower for an audience with the Pope—but with no response. And lately, Agamemnon spent his days just as he did now, in prayer on the first floor.

Jeven’s heart was conflicted. He disliked forcing someone as young as Agamemnon—still not yet of age—to make decisions that adults ought to bear. Yet within the Church, Agamemnon was the one in charge. So Jeven still said, “Aen hopes we can tell him soon what he should do next.”

“He is already the King of the Northland—the Supreme King of the Northland. We can continue supplying him with provisions for one more month. After that—at the end of June—further supplies must be procured through proper trade.” Agamemnon replied.

Jeven said, “Aen is a devout believer. He feels he does not have the ability to be the Supreme King of the Northland. He seeks… the Lord’s guidance.”

He hesitated at the end, but still spoke the truth.

Agamemnon said, “That he could become the Supreme King of the Northland—that itself is the Lord’s guidance. Thus, he should fulfill his duties as king.”

Jeven added, “He sent the two Holy Relics he obtained from the Northland through Odysseus. He seeks the Lord’s guidance.”

Agamemnon opened his eyes, lifted his head, and turned to Jeven.

Jeven continued, “He is a devout believer. Even if he thinks he only clings to that identity out of necessity, still—you know as well as I do—that for us, and for the Lord, true devotion is not measured only by those who offer everything of themselves to the Lord.

“In truth, it is enough to understand and acknowledge the Lord’s Teachings. Even if one does not make them the absolute rule of life, but simply uses them as the foundation upon which to build one’s own rules of conduct, that is still devotion.

“For example, a lord acknowledges that if peasants pay taxes, he must grant them protection. That is the foundation. But if, for some reason, he believes he must levy additional taxes, then though he errs, he still accepts that the foundation is correct. In this way, he already uses the Lord’s Teachings as the measure of his actions.”

“But the Northland is not yet the land of the Lord’s Faith. And yet, he is a devout believer, and he longs for the Lord’s Teachings to spread there.”

If Melia had been present, she would surely have said, ‘There he goes again, speaking in riddles.’

But Agamemnon understood Jeven’s meaning.

He was suggesting that the Church, as in Greenwood, should hold sway over Faith in the Northland—gradually reshaping its rules.

Agamemnon knew well that while the Senate was carrying out the domestication of the Northlanders—and had made some progress, with the Comrades Group already praised in song thanks to the Northland King’s cooperation—such efforts only guided the warriors.

From the Senate’s perspective, of course the foundation would be those who held military power. That was natural.

But for Agamemnon, for Jeven, and for the Church, the true foundation was always the commoners—the greatest in number, even if all their resources and power together amounted to less than one percent.

Agamemnon lowered his gaze, deep in thought. At last, as though making a decision, he sighed and said, “At the current pace of training priests in Greenwood, it would take at least ten years just to barely meet the needs there.

“That is to say, every baron’s or lord’s domain must have a priest. Every viscount’s land must have at least three priests. Every earl’s or marquis’s land must have at least one bishop and five priests.

“To reach the point where every village has a priest—it would take at least twenty years.”

That was Agamemnon’s estimate.

And at the Church’s current reach, this pace was far, far too slow.

Jeven fell silent. He himself had cursed Agamemnon many times in the Great Cathedral of Rod over this training system. His diocese desperately lacked priests. Yet even after Jeven became bishop, Agamemnon never assigned him more.

Agamemnon continued, “So tomorrow, I will send a message: each diocese bishop will be permitted to train priests independently. Each year, twenty may be elevated to priesthood. To advance from priest to bishop, they must still come to the Church’s headquarters for consecration. In addition, every cathedral may form its own Church Armed Forces: twenty knights and one hundred warriors. They will be allowed to establish their own Oath Commandments. Bishops may recommend candidates to the headquarters to undergo baptism and become Temple Warriors, Guardian Knights, or Punishing Knights.”

By this rule, within three years, the number of priests would catch up to Greenwood—and might even allow them to step beyond.

And by then, Agamemnon would already have reached adulthood.

Jeven nodded in response.

This would indeed solve the shortage of priests under his command. But he was not happy—because it only meant his workload would now multiply many times over.

Moreover, since this involved priests—the very foundation of the Church of the Sanctuary—the pressure on him only grew heavier.

But when he thought about the disparity between the resources at the headquarters and those in the dioceses, he suddenly felt that, in the eyes of noble lords in the future, priests of the Church would surely be divided into headquarters priests and diocese priests.

As for armed forces, this matter was simpler for bishops like them.

Though the voices had already grown quiet this year, during last year’s Eastern Campaign, each of the three bishoprics had its own knightly order, and Bishop Jeven had personally commanded the army of his diocese. The other two bishops, likewise, could intervene in the knight orders and the troops within their regions.

But… Bishop Claudy…

At least within the headquarters, it should not be too difficult to gather enough men…

Jeven thought of Bishop Landon of the Land of Anathema. After hesitating, he asked, “What about Bishop Landon?”

Agamemnon replied, “He is also a bishop. Within his diocese, he naturally holds this authority. I will send Priest Igor to inform him.”

Although it was the Land of Anathema, it was no secret that Igor went there from time to time. Everyone knew, but no one spoke of it.

“As for the Northland…” Agamemnon hesitated.

Suddenly, Jeven’s expression turned solemn. His eyes widened slightly, and faint golden flecks seemed to rise within his pupils.

Agamemnon noticed this and, startled at first, his feelings quickly grew complicated.

Before long, Jeven returned to normal. He looked hesitant, but still said, “I have received a revelation.”

Even as he spoke, Jeven scarcely dared to meet Agamemnon’s eyes.

This was the Clock Tower, after all.

But since it was truly a revelation, he still spoke: “With the Heart of the Northland, forge the Crown of Thorns.”

That was the entirety of the revelation.

If it had been anyone else, Jeven would have interpreted it first before delivering it. But before Agamemnon, he spoke it directly.

Agamemnon nodded calmly and said, “The Heart of the Northland is naturally the Holy Relics born of the Northland.”

Jeven froze. His own understanding was that the Heart of the Northland must mean the minerals of the Northland—that one must gather a piece of every ore, and from them forge a Crown of Thorns.

But since it was Agamemnon who spoke, Jeven could only glance toward the cross behind him, then remain silent, merely nodding.

Agamemnon continued, “Then, Bishop Jeven, please make a journey to the Northland and deliver the Lord’s revelation to the Supreme King of the Northland.”

Jeven asked, “How many Holy Relics will be needed?”

Agamemnon replied, “The Heart of the Northland is naturally all of the Northland’s Holy Relics.”

Jeven’s expression twitched.

He understood Agamemnon’s meaning—he intended to confiscate them all.

To take them all would make the Northland an example, to show Greenwood what must be done.

Or rather, it would demonstrate to those seven who once held Holy Relics as Pegira’s personal guards.

Aside from them, the Dragon Spear of Marquis Richard had already been declared by Bishop Marl to be the Church’s Holy Relic.

Jeven did not understand the reason behind this. He only knew that the headquarters had gathered the Holy Relics and Mysteries without letting them be used freely.

He had assumed this was because Holy Relics polluted the body when wielded, and also because the Church no longer truly needed them. After all, the monastery’s new devices were increasingly dangerous—purely in destructive power, they rivaled the Holy Relics.

But now it seemed that the headquarters had other designs for them.

Jeven quickly gave up on the thought. Matters like this were not worth pondering for someone like him.

He was just a small bishop who knew only a little of everything. Perhaps only Agamemnon, closest to the Pope, knew the real purpose.

So Jeven asked, “And afterward? Is it enough just to deliver the revelation?”

Agamemnon replied, “That will be enough. As for what follows, the Senate and the monastery will handle it.”

Jeven did not know what Agamemnon intended for the Northland, but as someone who only knew a little of everything, he knew it was enough for him to follow orders.

Just as Aen believed it was enough to follow Bishop Jeven’s guidance.

Thus, when Jeven delivered the revelation, even though Aen’s pupils shrank violently and he nearly collapsed to his knees, he still gritted his teeth and gave the command.

“The people of the Northland, hear my will! Gather all the Holy Relics of the Northland and forge the Crown of Thorns belonging to the Northland’s royal authority. When the Crown is forged, I shall be crowned king at the Heart of the Northland, within the Pale Castle!”

Aen gave the order with great solemnity.

Had he not hidden it well, others would have seen his trembling hands behind his back.

After Odysseus departed for Greenwood, the Northland warriors, driven by their Supreme King’s command, surged forward with madness. By the next day, they had brought Aen into the ruins of Frozen Furnace Fortress.

But since Bishop Jeven had not yet given him the sign, Aen did not dare to crown himself. He could only continue speaking:

“The Northland is not yet fully pacified. The people still suffer. I cannot ignore their cries and crown myself king at this moment. Such would not befit the Supreme King of the Northland.”

And so the Northland warriors pressed further west, sweeping through the last resistance in three days. They brought the surviving nobles to Frozen Furnace City, shouting the name of the Supreme King and proclaiming that the Northland had been pacified and it was time for his coronation.

But with no word from Bishop Jeven, Aen was forced to come up with another reason. He declared:

“The Northland has suffered greatly. Though the chaos is ended, the hearts of its people remain scattered. I must forge a place where their will can unite as one. Therefore, I will build a castle that embodies the heart of the Northland.”

Thus the Pale Castle began to rise upon the ruins of Frozen Furnace City.

The frenzied Northlanders—warriors, surrendered nobles, and commoners alike—roared with devotion. To prove their loyalty, they worked with their own hands to build it. Even from distant lands, Northland peasants gathered of their own accord to join the construction.

In only a few days, more than fifty thousand had converged upon the ruins, with streams of people still arriving in sight of the horizon. Their numbers strained Greenwood’s supply lines.

It was as though they had been summoned by some power.

Aen dared not let them starve on frozen soil or chew roots.

If they were pushed too far, if they went mad, even he could be torn apart.

Their presence left Aen hiding in his room in fear.

He regretted sending all the Virtue Knights back to Greenwood with the Holy Relics—he should have kept at least one at his side.

He felt the entire Northland had gone insane, with himself as the only sane man left.

Every pair of eyes he saw glowed with frenzied red light. Even though they cried out in praise of him as Supreme King, in his dreams, he felt countless red stars watching him.

He was more exhausted than ever—until Bishop Jeven and Odysseus returned. Only then did he breathe in relief, and in Jeven’s presence, he felt as though he had come home.

But the father of this home brought him a heavy message—the Lord’s revelation.

Still, Aen obeyed Bishop Jeven’s will. He refined the revelation slightly and declared it.

He was nervous.

Confiscating the Holy Relics was unlike the previous commands. Everyone knew how powerful they were. Possessing one meant, at the very least, a viscountcy.

In the Northland, where strength was revered, a single Holy Relic could create a powerhouse.

So Aen feared that ordering their confiscation would cause unrest among those who heard his will.

Bazle, the seven Iron Guards he had ennobled, the nobles he had rewarded, the commanders in his army—

All of them were Northland Warriors who had completed the Northland Trial, men who thirsted for strength.

If such men revolted, even four Virtue Knights could not shield him.

Even now, his Iron Guards, including Bazle, glared murderously at Odysseus and his fellows.

Yet what he feared did not come to pass.

Upon hearing his command, they rushed out howling, leading their men across the Northland in search of Holy Relics.

Aen exhaled heavily. Clutching the cross at his chest, he made the sign and prayed: “Thanks be to the Lord’s Protection, and thanks to Bishop Jeven’s guidance.”

Odysseus could not help but remark, “Their loyalty to you is real. Even when ordered to seek Holy Relics, they hesitated not at all. At this point, I suspect that a single word from you could command them to die.”

Aen shook his head. “Did you not see the crimson in their eyes? That was their killing intent.”

Odysseus said, “I saw only their Faith, their loyalty.”

Aen gave a bitter smile. “Even Bazle and the others glare at you with hostility. I could see the killing intent in their eyes.”

Odysseus’s expression grew strange. “They are your Iron Guards—supposed to be your Personal Guards. Yet you made us four outsiders your Personal Guards instead. I believe their anger is not at you, but at us—for stealing the role that should be theirs. In truth, your choice insults them.”

Aen fell silent.

Odysseus added, “Given the temper of the Northlanders, the fact that they did not lash out, but only glared at us, proves their loyalty to you is already absolute.”

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