Chapter 349: The New Bishops
After Claudy finished speaking, Corleon finally opened his mouth and said, “From your words, I can hear it. Though there are still some noisy voices, Greenwood has been getting better and better.”
Corleon’s voice carried deep relief.
The bishops solemnly echoed, “To listen to the Lord’s teachings—this shall be the path toward the future.”
Or, to put it more plainly, everything the bishops did was for the sake of the future.
Even the deeds Claudy had carried out in York Territory were gradually becoming traditions that spread far and wide.
At the very least, marriages officiated by priests and witnessed under the Lord’s Sacred Cross had begun to dispel the once-prevalent culture of illegitimate offspring.
Though the matter of illegitimate children had not yet been completely eradicated, the new nobles no longer viewed such things as natural. And within those marriages sanctified by the Church, neither husband nor wife saw infidelity as something acceptable.
Perhaps after one, two, or three generations, this once-common culture of illegitimacy would vanish entirely. The wandering women of the past would also gradually diminish—until they disappeared altogether.
At least for now, within Greenwood, public copulation and other forms of lewd gatherings had vanished from the lands illuminated by the Morning Star.
Of course, after the publication of the New Testament Scriptures, the Morning Star and the White Star had resumed their original names—Sun and Moon.
After a brief silence, giving the bishops time to compose themselves, Corleon’s expression grew solemn. He said, “But this is merely Greenwood growing better. Beyond Greenwood, countless people still suffer. And beyond Greenwood as well, evil forces continue to covet the peace and beauty we cherish.”
Corleon lifted his gaze. The others followed his eyes upward—above them, a vast map had appeared.
He continued, “To the east, beyond Greenwood’s borders, in that boundless ocean, the tides of magic are surging. The changes occur not only upon the land but in the sea, far broader and more perilous in mystery.”
“Magical beasts revived, gods returned, magic reawakened—the dwellers of the ocean have thrown the seas into chaos under the influence of new powers. It is a pure struggle of desire. And in the near future, these foreign races will turn their eyes toward the land—whether the defeated of the ocean seek allies, or the victors seek more realms to conquer.”
“And to the south of Greenwood, across the turbulent Demis River, the Altlinsmann Empire has already ended its civil strife following the unification of the Northland. Its young emperor, full of ambition, seeks to conquer more lands. The tides of magic have made the Demis River no longer an absolute barrier. Be it through the power of magic or the temptations of the gods, the fertile Greenwood is precisely the land that young emperor most desires.”
Corleon’s words caused several bishops’ expressions to turn grave. Instinctively, they all looked toward Olivia. In her ruby-like eyes, the brightest light since her arrival at the Clock Tower shone brilliantly.
In her gaze seemed to be written the words—Battle!
This was a war between nations, and also a war between races.
It was exactly what Corleon had always emphasized and required—that the Church of the Sanctuary must keep faith and politics separate.
Though in practice, it was impossible to avoid touching upon political matters, through the bishops’ united effort, faith and politics had been kept as pure as possible.
Thus, when a war of this magnitude came, it would require a king to lead.
Yet Corleon continued, “However, the King of Greenwood is still but a child. Before the king can ascend the throne and take up the Holy Sword, even if Greenwood were to fall, as servants of the Lord, we must do everything in our power to protect the common people.”
Clearly, Corleon still insisted that Olivia must reach sixteen years of age before she officially ascended the throne.
The light in Olivia’s eyes instantly dimmed. She looked as though her dreams had been shattered.
The bishops exchanged glances, then said solemnly, “We will do our utmost to protect the innocent.”
Since Corleon had spoken, they naturally trusted that he had his reasons. Perhaps those reasons would only be understood far in the future.
Corleon nodded. “I naturally trust you all. But in the end, there are only four of you. How can four protect all the people of Greenwood?”
As his words fell, ten colored regions lit up on the map above them, representing the divisions of Greenwood.
Corleon went on, “From this day onward, Greenwood shall be divided into ten dioceses. Marl’s Adrian Diocese, Jeven’s Diocese of Rod, and Claudy’s Diocese of York will remain as they are. Jeremiah’s Diocese of Doyle must be expanded.”
Jeremiah bowed his head slightly. “I will complete this task before the end of the month.”
The division of dioceses was an internal matter of the Church—nothing for the nobles to interfere in.
Though, naturally, these new borders would also affect their interests.
But who could object when the Church held such power now?
Corleon nodded and said, “Besides you four and Bishop Landon of the Land of Anathema, five dioceses remain that require new bishops. Do you have any priests to recommend?”
Corleon could, of course, see who was suited for the role. But as he had often said—matters that humans could resolve should be entrusted to humans. Corleon would one day step down as Pope. When that day came, would the next Pope be able to foresee the future or see into people’s hearts as he did?
Thus, from the very founding of the Church, Corleon had sought to establish order and rules.
Jeven raised his hand first and said, “In Wallace Territory, near the Northland border, I recommend Priest Dominic. He currently serves as Marquis Severus Wallace’s advisor. Over the past few years, under his devoted guidance, the population there has grown from just over six hundred to nearly twenty thousand. He is both meritorious and capable.”
Marl glanced at Jeven, suppressing his inner disagreement.
Since no one objected, Corleon nodded. “Very well. Your recommendation is accepted.”
He then turned to Claudy. “Claudy, as the bishop of the Church Headquarters, after this meeting, send Priest Dominic a letter. Summon him to the headquarters at the beginning of February for his report and appointment as bishop. Also, tell him to bring along the sacred relic in Marquis Severus’s possession.”
“I know he intends to use it to open a new port in Wallace Territory, but Marquis Severus himself has reached his limit. Continued use of the relic will harm him. Even if Dominic becomes bishop, he won’t be able to purify the marquis completely.”
Claudy nodded in acknowledgment, then raised his hand. “I recommend Priest Igor to serve as bishop for the diocese between the Land of Anathema and the Diocese of Doyle.”
However, compared to the achievements of Priest Dominic, Priest Igor seemed to have none worth mentioning.
In the end, Claudy could only add, “During his service, he earned the respect of the villagers of his church’s village.”
After saying so, even he felt his face flush.
For any priest of the Church—even those trained in major cathedrals—earning the villagers’ respect was basic. A priest unable to gain such respect within a year was simply unqualified.
But Claudy sympathized with Bishop Landon. Priest Igor often sneaked into the Land of Anathema to visit Bishop Landon, bringing him news from the Church.
If Priest Igor became bishop of the diocese adjacent to the Land of Anathema, at least he could care for Bishop Landon openly—without needing to sneak around as he once did in York Diocese.
A bishop held great autonomy within his diocese.
The other three knew Igor as well. They all felt complex emotions toward Bishop Landon.
After all, Landon had been cleaning up the consequences left behind after Priest Agamemnon’s stern warnings to the nobles.
Bishop Landon had rendered great service. Even now, the people of the Land of Anathema bore no resentment toward the Church. They followed Landon’s teachings and believed that after atoning for their sins, they would one day regain the Lord’s protection.
In truth, the Church had never abandoned the Land of Anathema. The living conditions there were, in fact, better than those in Wallace Territory.
Yet politically and theologically, the Land of Anathema had to exist.
Thus, the others raised no objections.
Corleon said, “Then so be it. Let Priest Igor also come to the headquarters at the beginning of February for his report.”
Afterward, Marl hesitated before raising his hand. “I recommend Priest Weir to serve as bishop of the diocese south of Adrian Diocese. He, along with Bishops Jeremiah and Landon, was among the same batch of priests. He was also the first priest of Adrian Territory and made great contributions in establishing the Adrian Diocese.”
Moreover, when the Anathema was first declared, Weir was among the first priests from Adrian Diocese to respond and assist. Without his cooperation, the Anathema would not have proceeded so smoothly through Adrian Territory.
However, having just discussed Igor, Marl refrained from mentioning those merits.
The others understood, so no one added anything further.
Corleon nodded. “Very well. Claudy, send a letter to Priest Weir as well.”
Claudy again nodded in acknowledgment.
Finally, Corleon turned to Jeremiah.
Jeremiah said, “I have no suitable candidates to recommend on my side.”
Corleon said, “Then the remaining two southernmost dioceses shall be appointed by me.”