Chapter 279: That Would Be Their Just Punishment
“No — do not send the troops. Before I return, you must keep the warriors well trained,” Jeremiah said to Gregor with a grave expression.
Jeremiah had never expected that Gregor’s trip to the Church headquarters would result in a bishopric being secured for him, three clerics to be sent this year, a place to be established this year like a monastery, and, most importantly, a kind of knightly vow.
As a cleric of the Church, he knew how significant such a knightly vow was: it could grant the knights who upheld it the Lord’s protection.
After Gregor explained the “gift” the Pope had bestowed upon the world, Jeremiah realized this was something the Lord had given that could replace the nobles’ investiture of knights and provide divine empowerment to knights.
That realization instantaneously raised his tolerance for Gregor by quite a bit.
However, he still had to return to the Church headquarters to accept the bishopric.
Before that, other matters could be relaxed, but the campaign to subdue the Fishmen required a serious admonition to Gregor.
“Those inland nobles do not know how terrible the Fishmen are; they are still lost in humanity’s trampling of other races. They will pay for their arrogance,” Jeremiah said.
“When should I march then? My vassal nobles are thirsty for more territory,” Gregor asked.
“They have committed the sin of greed,” Jeremiah replied.
Jeremiah spoke with implication.
Gregor did not catch the hint. He frowned and said, “But it is natural for nobles to crave lands and titles. Although they owe fealty to me, I also need them to manage my domains and to be my strength.”
Without a Holy Relic and only at knight rank, Gregor was not as hard-nosed when facing his subordinate nobles as Richard would be.
Jeremiah replied patiently, “They have committed the sins of greed and of betrayal — sins detested by the Lord. Those detested by the Lord shall not receive the Lord’s protection.”
Gregor asked with some confusion, “But they are loyal to me; aren’t they entitled to my protection?”
Jeremiah paused, drew a deep breath, and then lowered his voice. “Those Fishmen are guilty as well, so do you understand now?”
Gregor shook his head blankly.
Jeremiah clenched his teeth, then, with an almost affectionate manner, embraced Gregor and whispered in his ear, “This means you can tell the other nobles in your lands that this man is guilty, therefore killing him is a meritorious deed. You can reward the nobles who earn merits with more land, and even support one of them to become a noble not subordinate to you.”
“And you need not worry about other nobles in your lands rebelling, because this sin will be backed by Bishop Jeremiah — he will help you judge them. If they dare to resist, they will be spurning the judgment of a Church bishop; they will stand against the Church, and to stand against the Church is to stand against all of Greenwood. Your dear brother Richard would be obliged to mount his Dragon-Eagle and kill that noble for you at the first opportunity. Do you understand?” His last few words seemed to leap out through his clenched teeth.
Gregor’s face immediately brightened. “I understand, I understand.”
In his heart he rudely and simply treated the declaration of guilt as the activation of a Holy Relic.
In other words, Bishop Jeremiah equaled a Holy Relic?!
Church people were truly useful, Gregor thought sincerely.
Jeremiah finally exhaled heavily. “All right. I will be back within ten days. In the meantime, hurry and train the warriors. Time is short, but most of your fighters are already upper-rank warriors — they are elite. I will also help procure some ballistae and repeating crossbows; I will try to negotiate for trebuchets. Once I return and these weapons are equipped, after the Church’s soldiers mobilize, that will be the time for you to lead your troops into battle.”
“Do not foolishly rush to death. Remember: once a man dies he has nothing left. As long as you live, you can still obtain more.”
“If you have nothing else to do, browse the Holy Scriptures and think about what kind of knight you wish to be — perhaps a name recorded by history, like those Virtue Knights.”
Gregor nodded repeatedly.
Other parts left him somewhat dizzy, but he understood that his storehouse would soon receive more supplies, his warriors would become stronger, and he himself might live longer.
That was enough.
Seeing Gregor nod, Jeremiah hurried into his carriage, afraid he might say more if he lingered.
After Jeremiah’s carriage had driven away, a man jogged up and said, “Great Lord Gregor, Viscount Gottfried wishes to invite you to form a noble coalition. Viscount Gottfried offers you command of the coalition; you would obtain the greatest merits.”
Gregor came back to himself and sighed. “What a wonderful future.”
The man smiled obsequiously. “Yes — such a wonderful future. You have many knights in your lands and can raise an army of five thousand. You will certainly earn the greatest merits; perhaps you could become a marquis.”
Gregor raised a hand; the man’s head fell.
The knightly technique that severed the man’s head was exquisite: the spray of blood did not splash on Gregor, the head rolled aside, and the headless body collapsed backward.
Gregor vaulted into his saddle, snapped the reins, and rode toward the camp, saying to the knight behind him, “Valerus, how does ‘Knight Doyle’ sound? Does it not sound better than ‘Virtue Knight’?”
Valerus, sheathing his sword, chose silence.
Gregor kept muttering how splendid the title “Knight Doyle” sounded, how it would obviously denote a mighty knight and how it sounded better than Richard’s oath-knights. A page ran over to take away the headless corpse, and the ground was cleaned.
The cleric Jeremiah had said cleanliness reduced disease.
…
“It seems Count Gregor is a clever man,” Marl said. “His name differs from Councilor Puniel’s son Gregor by only a syllable, but that Gregor has troubled Puniel for a long time.”
Richard hurriedly said, “No — that Gregor is no genius. He does not even know his own vow yet, yet he speaks of bestowing vowed knights.”
Marl sneered. “And your vow is so high? It’s been nearly two years. Who has yet gained your approval?”
Richard protested, “It is precisely because the vow is difficult that a knight who can keep it becomes stronger. Didn’t you say that?”
“But the precondition is that it must be achievable,” Marl answered, then produced a letter. “I have correspondence from Bishop Jeven of the Diocese of Rod. He said that when he returned with the last survivors of the Corlay family’s lands, the Theocracy had already been breached by those Fishmen. That means the Fishmen’s main force is about to march south. As the first line of defense against the Fishmen, we will naturally face their fiercest assault.”
“And now the Pope has sent down a ‘gift’. The powers given to knights by noble investiture will gradually wane. This gift has not yet become the new power. At other times that would be tolerable, but at the moment when we are about to face the Fishmen, every single point of power matters.”
Richard scratched his head. “Is that so? But I feel like I’ve become stronger.”
Marl glanced at Richard and then began to roll the letter into a tube as he wrote, saying, “Because this is the Pope’s ‘gift’, established bloodlines will not vanish. You have simply accepted a supply of magic from the earth-vein, but that small amount of magic had little effect. Your greatest strength is still your body. When you need mana, Crulud will supply it — the mana it gives you is far greater than this little blocked supply from the earth-vein.”
Richard asked, “So if I sire children again, there will be no ‘noble bloodline’?”
Marl replied, “‘Noble bloodline’ will be gone, of course; but your own strong bloodline will still be inherited. That involves heredity and such — I am not very knowledgeable in that area. If you wish to know, you can study at the monastery.”
Upon hearing the word “study,” Richard immediately shook his head. “What my descendants do is their business, not mine.”
He added, “Even so, I should be affected to some degree.”
“You cannot even uphold the vow you set? You fool,” Marl finally could not help but say.
Richard was taken aback, then his eyes lit up. “So that is it? I will try, then — to see how strong the vow’s power can be.”
“Wait!” Marl called after Richard.
Richard stopped and asked, “Anything else?”
Marl turned, his hands compressing the letter into a cylinder. “You must keep those beneath you in check. Do not let them be intoxicated by merits. As the Pope said, they are sinful. If they cannot recognize their sins, death will befall them.”
Richard froze and thought carefully about Marl’s words, then frowned. “Do you mean send those nobles to their deaths?”
Marl said, “These old sins must be purified before we can welcome a new kingdom.”
Richard understood what Marl meant.
Just as when the Fishmen had breached Fog Fortress and a batch of nobles loyal to him had died — they had died bravely, and all who learned of their valor praised them — was there not manipulation by Marl to delay evacuation notices by a day?
At least after that day, among the surviving nobles loyal to Richard, when Absolutive Punishment required sacrifices and giving way, they accepted Richard’s orders without hesitation.
Richard had always been clever; he simply seldom pondered. But when he did, he naturally understood Marl’s remark: this was another purge.
Previously it had been Fishmen breaching them; this time, while attacking the Fishmen, they would be crushed.
Marl’s face softened slightly. “As nobles, you know what they have done. And as one of faith, you naturally know they have committed unforgivable sins.”
“The Pope is merciful and is willing to give them an opportunity to cleanse their sins. But if they remain blinded by the sin of greed, then this punishment is what they deserve.”
Richard asked, “Even if many will die because of it?”
Marl countered, “Then how many people do you think you alone can save?”
Richard fell silent.
There were nearly a hundred nobles. Richard did not know how many would truly reflect upon the Pope’s word about sin.
Or, besides him and Gregor — who had Church people at their side to prompt them — would anyone else grasp the issue?
Marl looked at the silent Richard and asked, “Your knightly vow is to be brave, to protect the weak, and to spread justice — are they the weak?”
Richard opened his mouth and finally said, “No. They are not weak; they are strong.”
Marl said, “Then you have no obligation to protect them.”
Richard had no answer.
Marl added, “Moreover, it makes little sense for you to take your warriors as well. The Fishmen are too numerous; you have encountered them. Even with our defenses, we can resist no more than one hundred thousand Fishmen.”
Richard asked, “When should I march then?”
Marl answered, “Wait for the Church’s forces… no, wait until the Greenwood forces mobilize.”