Chapter 348: The Godfather
Bishop Marl’s pupils contracted as he stood up, his expression grave as he said, “No wonder I’ve been feeling something was off lately.”
His face turned unsightly. If he had truly been tainted by a god’s power, that would be a serious problem indeed. After all, the Adrian Diocese he governed contained nearly two hundred thousand people.
Corleon said, “Be at ease. It’s merely a deity that has just begun to awaken, and it’s only at Tier Five.”
“Moreover, even if a true god were to descend, they wouldn’t be able to directly interfere with your perception. You are bishops of the Church, protected by the Lord.”
“They only affected the people and environment around you through their power, which in turn influenced your judgment.”
Marl finally let out a small sigh of relief.
He had already begun to recall whether he had made any foolish decisions recently.
Marl said, “I’ll have Richard kill Hobert and destroy that relic. These beings are too powerful—if their strength isn’t restrained, the damage could be catastrophic.”
Corleon replied, “That would bring great losses to your diocese.”
Marl said in a deep tone, “Hobert is but a nobleman of mercenary origin. The town under his rule has barely a thousand people. If a thousand lives can be exchanged to slay an awakening god, I think that’s a price worth paying.”
During the first bishops’ assembly in the first year of the New Testament Era—
Corleon had told them: if something could be resolved by human hands, then it should be done by humans. For this world was meant to be the story written by mankind. This was the covenant the Lord had established within the New Testament—entrusting the world to humanity.
If, even after entering the New Testament Era, humans still needed the Lord to perform miracles for matters they could solve themselves, then there would be no reason for the New Testament to exist.
Thus, Marl’s words merely reflected his intent to resolve the matter through the power of the Adrian Diocese.
Corleon had already told him that the gradually reviving deity possessed only Tier Five power for now.
Even if the deity’s essence carried divine mystery, Richard was now a genuine Tier Six Hero—his will had undergone metamorphosis, and he already possessed resistance against divine power.
At the very least, he would not be twisted into madness just from glimpsing the deity once.
Corleon said, “If what you said were true—that a thousand lives could slay an awakening god—then such a being would not be called a god.”
“In the past, wars between gods were fought upon the stars in the heavens—and each of those stars was no smaller than the land beneath our feet.”
“Remember this: gods are gods. Their might cannot be measured merely by tiers.”
Marl hesitated. He was already considering whether to use the final opportunity to wield his sacred relic—to erase that entire region at once.
That relic could summon the power of an angel, and Marl did not believe that an angel’s might was lesser than a god’s.
Then Bishop Jeven suddenly said, “So what you mean is, you intend to use the Woodlands as the battlefield—to wage a war. Not merely one to bring the Lord’s protection upon the Woodlands, but one that allows us to witness a war between mankind and the gods?”
Jeremiah spoke gravely, “Moreover, this unknown deity is right beneath our noses. And the Woodlands—you once said that all gods will seek ways to return. Then could it be that in the Woodlands, in places unseen by us, other gods have already returned?”
His voice carried faint relief. If the Woodlands truly had a god’s return, then had he obeyed Gregor’s earlier suggestion to annex that land, wouldn’t he have marched straight into the presence of those gods?
Jeremiah even trembled slightly at the thought—those nobles who went to worship at the Great Cathedral of Doyle, were they also under the influence of these reviving deities?
Even Bishop Marl had been indirectly influenced by such a god—how much more easily would those foolish nobles be swayed?
That was the Woodlands—it was not like the Greenwood, where monasteries stood. It was still in the same state as before the Church of the Sanctuary was established.
Even… could Gregor, who frequently traveled between the Woodlands and Doyle Territory, also have fallen under the influence of those gods?
Jeremiah’s breathing grew heavy; he could clearly feel his heart racing violently.
“Calm yourself!” Corleon’s voice broke through Jeremiah’s spiraling thoughts. “You need some rest, Jeremiah. You’ve been overworking yourself.”
Corleon’s gaze was complicated.
Jeremiah froze, as if he understood something from the look in Corleon’s eyes.
His breathing gradually steadied, his heartbeat slowed, and a calm smile appeared on his face. He said, “These are things I ought to do. When I’m finished, I’ll rest properly.”
Corleon sighed. “Those returning gods are still gods. When they do not appear in lands under the Lord’s protection, nor raise their voices in the world, they are extremely difficult to detect.”
“The Progenitor Gods who weren’t slain outright were never content to hide forever within their sanctuaries. They are greedy and daring; otherwise, they would never have attempted to steal the Primordial Gods’ power through faith.”
“So even if they dare not appear before me, they can still hide and make small moves—enough to obscure my sight.”
“This, even after I personally slew the most troublesome ones—Time and Fate. Were those two Progenitors still alive, they could have interfered directly through time and destiny.”
“Moreover, the Primordial Sun erased the Progenitor Sun. Otherwise, as the beginning of all things, the Sun too would have held authority over a portion of time and fate.”
“Then perhaps we should prepare for the worst,” Jeremiah said, now calm once more. “When I return, I’ll investigate how many holy relics and churches there are in the Woodlands—and whether any dark creatures dwell there.”
His words sent a chill down Jeven’s spine. An entire principality—how could anyone possibly count how many relics and churches existed there?
Jeven quickly said, “I think we should send Hobert to the Woodlands as soon as possible. Have him bring that relic along. Perhaps through him, we can uncover all those gods.”
Marl said, “And what then? Even if we find them, who among us can kill so many gods? We don’t even know how to kill a god.”
Corleon took a deep breath, then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he said helplessly, “Nail them to the cross.”
“When the gods take human form, nail them upon the cross. If they take the form of beasts, then nail the cross upon them.”
“Then, hold a purification mass within the great cathedral—purify them completely, and let them return to One.”
When Corleon said this, the bishops all showed varied expressions, but since those words came from Corleon himself, they could only bow their heads in response.
“As for war—such matters must still be discussed with the Senate,” Corleon said.
“Even if you govern the nobles’ territories in your capacity as bishops, you serve the Lord—you are not rulers of these lands.”
“And war is cruel, while the Lord’s faith is merciful. Even if you must intervene in worldly affairs for the sake of your flock, you must still strive to avoid becoming entangled in slaughter.”
The bishops bowed slightly and said, “We heed your teaching.”
After Jeremiah’s report concluded, it was finally Claudy’s turn.
Even though Claudy kept telling himself not to overthink—to simply recount what he had done the previous year, as usual—he couldn’t help it. His face flushed red.
Well, that too, was as usual.
He stammered, “Last year, I presided over the weddings of thirteen noble couples at the Great Cathedral of York, all heirs of noble families. The donations amounted to twenty-three thousand gold coins.”
After speaking, Claudy paused and glanced nervously around.
The three other bishops all sat upright, listening attentively, faces solemn.
Phil’s expression remained stern.
Olivia’s eyes were wide, her jaw tight as she barely stifled a yawn.
Only Corleon watched Claudy with a gentle smile.
As always, Claudy could feel that Corleon truly enjoyed hearing him speak of such things.
Encouraged, he continued, “And among the sixty-four village chapels in York Territory, the priests witnessed the unions of six hundred sixty-two couples, receiving six hundred sixty-two silver coins in donations. They also baptized seven hundred thirty-one newborns, and assigned church names to fifty-two of them.”
“Of course, I also performed a baptism at the Great Cathedral for a baby—the child of Senator Julian. Though he wished to name his son George, I received revelation that the child’s church name should be Landon.”
“Besides these, the priests held funerals for four hundred ninety-two deceased. I personally presided over one at the Great Cathedral—it was for the late Senator Piero, the administrator appointed by King Pegira…”
Claudy rambled on and on, his flushed face gradually easing.
His report was the longest, filled entirely with simple matters—how many weddings and funerals he officiated, how many baptisms he conducted, how many prayers were held, how many orphans were taken in, how many donations were received, whether the gold coins sufficed, and so on.
Yet it was precisely these small things that brought smiles to everyone in the first floor of the Clock Tower—everyone except Olivia.
Wasn’t this what they all wished to see through their efforts?
At last, Claudy reached his final words—his request. “Because priests baptize children and give them church names, many commoners wish their children could call the priests ‘father’. They believe priests are servants of the Lord, and if their child has a priest as a father, then the child too would be blessed by the Lord.”
Corleon replied with a smile, “The Lord loves all people; everyone is a child of the Lord. Thus, they are already blessed by Him.”
Claudy also smiled as he said, “The priests have told them so as well, but the people merely seek comfort for their hearts. Even among devout believers, few truly believe the Lord walks among them. In their hearts, the Lord sits high above, enthroned in the Heavenly Kingdom.”
“To them, the priests are those beside them. Speaking with a priest allows them to feel connected to the Lord, to gain His attention.”
“And because of that, these parents who dearly love their children wish their little ones to be seen by the Lord.”
Claudy explained softly.
Corleon finally nodded and said, “Permit the priests to become the godfathers of the children they have baptized and named. But since they will be godfathers, they must also take upon themselves part of a father’s responsibility in the children’s lives.”