Chapter 393: Trusted
After the establishment of the Magic Academy, perhaps the commoners did not feel much difference, but for the nobles, it was not so simple.
Especially since, during the Eastern Campaign, they had witnessed the overwhelming power of the magic catapults—far beyond the usual Sacred Relic Liberations.
However, what slightly disappointed them was that although research into magic catapults was not prohibited, the Magic Academy simply lacked the capacity to develop such technology.
The nobles could provide the Earth Vein Magic, but the materials required to construct the catapult were too expensive for any one noble to afford.
Moreover, it was merely that the research of magic catapult principles was not forbidden. If one truly attempted to build such a thing, the nobles did not believe the Senate would ever approve.
Especially after disputes over resources arose, and the Abbey installed Magic Cannons on York City’s walls, it became even clearer.
Even they could see that Magic Cannons were the perfected form of the technology, while the magic-powered catapults were transitional tools at best.
Thus, when the Senate announced a ban on private manufacturing or hoarding of Magic Cannons by nobles, they tactfully dispersed, pretending nothing had happened.
Though they could not build Magic Cannons, they could still apply other magic.
For example, magic capable of transmitting messages.
This greatly improved the speed of communication among them.
Of course, the price was gold coins.
These mages charged exorbitantly, and the nobles—already burdened by territorial development—could not help but recall the rumors that the Magic Academy's Dean had incurred massive debt at its founding.
When a rebellion broke out in Doyle City in the South, and the York Territory's army quelled it in a single night, the news reached York City before sunset the next day.
And even now, massacres continued in Doyle Territory.
In York City, due to certain influences, this event stirred more discussion than the Scholar's Guild issue.
This morning, the Senate issued a policy requiring all officials in Greenwood to obtain a Second Rank Scholar evaluation from the Scholar's Guild before year-end, effectively becoming certified scholars.
“As officials, if you haven't even graduated from the Academy, how can you prove you're capable of managing commoners?”
It was already declared that Second Rank Scholar was the graduation standard.
But how could all current officials have attended the Academy?
Even those who had may not have been taught by true scholars.
The Scholar's Guild had already made clear that First Rank Apprentice and Second Rank Scholar advancement ceremonies involved a series of tests based on age and discipline, all questions crafted through firsthand experience by scholars from the Abbey.
These were Abbey scholars!
The Abbey was said to house seventy percent of Greenwood's scholars, and eighty percent of the world's wisdom.
How could the questions crafted by such minds be easy?
At least, after the Abbey issued this notice, it was reported that one official, who had somehow acquired a First Rank test, broke down and attempted suicide.
Though he was saved, the multiple wounds on his back starkly revealed the danger he had faced.
When Borien went to the Clock Tower, he heard an official giving a passionate street speech:
"We have aged, but we bled and sweated for the kingdom. And now, are we to be abandoned?"
Borien remembered the crowd had been large then.
But by the time Borien left, no one spoke of the Scholar's Guild evaluation anymore. Instead, another group was loudly condemning the ongoing massacre by the army.
Those commoners, yearning for peace, were being ruthlessly killed by knights, even as they knelt and begged. Such cruelty, they claimed, should not be done by those under the Lord's protection.
Even just passing by, Borien could not help but laugh.
How many years had passed since the Old Testament Era? How many since the founding of the Church of the Sanctuary?
Back then, wars engulfing half a principality were common, and massacres of entire territories were not rare. After each war, some lands were thoroughly purged.
Illegitimate bloodlines often hid among the populace.
How many peaceful years had it been? Had these people already forgotten what true war looked like?
Borien did not linger. He left York City and headed straight for the Glory Knight Academy.
On the way, he was challenged by two Fourth-Rank Knights and engaged in duels, after which Borien roughly understood why people were condemning the massacre so harshly.
They were afraid—or rather, the ones behind them were afraid.
They feared a return to the Old Testament Era.
Within their own territories, they might follow Old Testament rules willingly.
But across the Kingdom of Greenwood, they were merely vassals. Under the Old Testament rules, low-ranking nobles were no different from commoners in the eyes of high nobles and the Senate.
Yet they had supported the rebels with underhanded means and were maneuvering to oppose the Senate.
So, was the man who "committed suicide" after being stabbed multiple times truly a suicide? Or a warning?
Who could say if he really had the test questions?
That did not matter.
What mattered was that he served as a warning. The Senate had its own information channels.
The events in Doyle Territory served as a further message: the Senate had the power to slaughter them all—and would not hesitate to do so.
After all, this was the Doyle Marquis, with ties to the Church, and one of the three great Knight Orders—the Doyle Knight Order. He was blood-related to Marquis Richard.
In terms of knight numbers alone, the Doyle and Richard families represented at least half of Greenwood's military might.
And yet, the Doyle family was utterly crushed by the Senate.
A complete, overwhelming defeat.
Borien now understood why so many knights from various noble territories had come to York City to challenge him to duels.
These knights were gestures from the nobles, showing their willingness to comply with Senate policies. The knights they sent were those deemed true knights.
Of course, Borien also understood that those nobles wouldn't mind pushing him out and taking over the Knight Guild.
Councilor Jeffrey had become quite influential lately.
With the Scholar's Guild certification policy announced, all officials across Greenwood had to emerge from the Guild. Through this, Jeffrey could insert himself into noble affairs and even use it to counterbalance or undermine them.
Perhaps the Scholar's Guild was unique, but now, every surviving noble understood the power it represented.
Thus, the Knight Guild, not under a councilor's control, had drawn their attention.
Especially since Borien, as its president, was only a Fourth-Rank Knight—and weak even among that rank.
Though Borien had some ties to the Church, they were limited. Based on their judgment, unless Borien was outright assassinated, the Church would not interfere.
So, they chose to duel him publicly, aiming to humiliate him until he surrendered his position.
Realizing this, even the pain of being unhorsed twice felt lighter.
He thought, *They are unloved. They don't understand the value of the Knight Guild.*
But he—he was trusted.
Upon returning to the Knight Guild, Borien summoned Knight Selvan Reed.
“Wow, it seems even stepping out, you can't avoid those knights,” came Selvan's voice.
Borien was applying healing salve.
“Ha, perhaps they believe that by defeating me, they can be acknowledged by the Knight Guild,” Borien said, storing the salve.
He had removed his armor, his upper body bare, revealing bruises and freshly-closed wounds.
“If that were enough to be acknowledged, then we Oath Knights would have long passed the evaluations,” Selvan said with a laugh.
Indeed, the Oath Knights had been the first to challenge Borien after the Guild's evaluation standards were made public.
Having experienced their strength firsthand, Borien could confidently say these knights were formidable.
Among all the knights he had faced recently, only Knight Gary Floyd, champion of the Butler Territory Tournament, could match the Oath Knights.
Despite Selvan's teasing, Borien wasn't angry. The Oath Knights lived up to their vows.
Their duels with Borien stemmed from Marquis Richard's orders and their own discontent with the Knight Guild. But Borien's calm acceptance of defeat gradually earned their respect.
Selvan, in particular, had become one of his closest allies.
Borien smiled, saying, “Yes, earning a knight's title isn't so simple. Even as president of the Guild, I am not qualified.”
He then took out the quill and scroll given by Corleon.
“This is a Holy Relic granted by the Pope. It determines whether one is qualified to become a knight. When I received it, I couldn’t resist writing my own name.”
Knight Selvan looked at the relic with curiosity. “And then?”
Borien's smile turned bitter. “It wouldn't write.”
Selvan froze, unsure of what to say.
Borien sighed. “But it wasn't unexpected. I set the standards for knight evaluations. Of course I know I'm not worthy.”
“So, those unworthy of the title cannot leave their names on the scroll?”
Selvan began to understand. “Then… did you write my name?”