Chapter 43: Guardian Angel
Before the Morning Star fell, Corleon received a new assignment.
“The Lord wants us to clear out the bandits in the territory,” said Knight Wolf.
“Although I’m the commander of this operation, those young men eager for glory are unwilling to listen to me.”
“They think I have tainted the honor of knighthood.”
“I accept their contempt too, for it is what I deserve for not serving my lord until the end of my life.”
Corleon said, “Your honor as a knight loyal to your lord may be gone, but you are still a knight who protects his family.”
“Ha, though I know the priest only means to comfort me, I still appreciate it,” Wolf smiled.
“However, those young men are in a hurry to make achievements, while I will still follow the old traditions.”
“So tomorrow I will bring my squires and soldiers to the church. I hope the priest can bestow blessings upon them.”
“This is my duty. How many need blessings?” Corleon asked.
“Myself, my three squires, and twelve warriors,” Wolf replied.
He was different from Borien. His family’s well-trained soldiers were meant to follow him into battle, so there was no need to summon militia.
“You as well?” Corleon was slightly surprised.
“Yes, I also hope to receive blessings,” said Wolf.
“I’m too old now, no match for those young men. Perhaps this will be my final battle.”
“When I die, I hope to be buried in the church cemetery like Knight Zorn.”
Normally, knights would be buried in the family cemetery after death.
Thus, the matter of Knight Zorn being buried in the church cemetery was seen by most as a punishment.
Wolf thought so too.
And he believed he was guilty—for not being loyal to his lord—so he felt unworthy of burial in the family tomb.
“Alright, I will bury you beside Knight Zorn when the time comes,” said Corleon.
There was no avoidance of the topic of death.
Just as Wolf had said, he was already old, and for him, dying in battle was a death of honor.
“If possible, I hope you can bring your warriors before the Morning Star rises. I will use the morning dew to bestow blessings upon them.”
“This dew is the pure water that the Lord scatters upon the world—it is a blessing that can heal their pain.”
Previous blessings were more of psychological comfort, but now Corleon could truly bestow blessings upon soldiers.
“Alright, priest. I will bring them before the Morning Star rises,” Wolf agreed.
After he left, Corleon summoned George and the others.
“The Lord is sending knights to clear the bandits in the territory. This protects the common people—it is a righteous act.”
“And I will bestow blessings upon these warriors.”
“I will use the morning dew. It is the pure water the Lord scatters upon the world. Only the dew during that brief moment when the Morning Star rises is the Lord’s pure water.”
“Blessing them with this pure water will heal their pain.”
“But how much pure water can I gather alone? So I need your help.”
“Alright, priest. I’m happy to help you,” said George without hesitation.
“Alright, priest. But after the blessings tomorrow, can I begin recruiting people to build the church?” asked Cicero.
“Alright, priest,” said Agamemnon.
“Then we’ll have to wake up really early tomorrow, right?” Ando was a bit reluctant.
“Not tomorrow. We need to wait for Miss Yara’s message,” Corleon said to Cicero. “They are devout believers of the Lord, willing to devote themselves. But we, as servants of the Lord, must not let them fall into hardship.”
“Alright then,” Cicero said with some disappointment.
After speaking, Corleon turned to Ando. “This is also part of our practice. Blessing these warriors may save their lives—it is a good deed.”
“Alright…” Ando agreed in the end.
After settling things, everyone went about their own tasks. Corleon picked up a palm-sized round piece of wood and began carving emblems.
“Priest, do you need help carving the emblems? If you don’t mind, I can help you,” Agamemnon approached and said.
“You know how to carve?” Corleon was a bit surprised.
“Yes,” Agamemnon said. “My father was often away when he was alive, rarely home. My grandmother missed him greatly, so I learned to carve. I carved his likeness at home to cheer her up.”
“You’re a kind child,” Corleon smiled. “If you’re willing, you can help me carve some emblems.”
“They will receive blessings and become temporary Holy Thrones of the Lord of Hosts, offering blessings to the warriors.”
“Alright, priest,” Agamemnon sat down and picked up a carving knife with his small hands.
“They’re going to fight bandits—it is a righteous act, a protection of the people. So the emblems need to be of Guardian Angels to protect their lives and reduce their suffering.”
“Guardian Angels?”
“Yes, just like this,” Corleon held up one he had carved.
In the center was an upright sword, wrapped by winged shapes behind it.
“Can you understand it?” Corleon asked.
“I think I can,” Agamemnon hesitated a bit, then picked up a piece of wood and began carving.
Soon, an emblem took shape.
“Priest, is this right?” he asked, holding up the emblem.
The sword was long and slender, and the wings extending from behind were elegant. Agamemnon had even carved feather details on the wings.
“Yes, very perfect,” Corleon praised, quietly hiding the emblem he had made behind him.
The sword on his emblem looked like a fat man, and the wings were just two twisted lines.
“If possible, I hope you can carve the sixteen Guardian Angel emblems needed for tomorrow,” said Corleon.
“Alright, priest,” Agamemnon agreed.
Corleon nodded and left.
Agamemnon’s carving skills were far superior to his—his emblems were much better.
After he left, Ando came over.
“I made a castle. Want to see it, Menon?” Ando asked proudly.
His clothes were splattered with mud.
“No, Ando. I need to help the priest finish the emblems,” Agamemnon didn’t even look up, focusing on the carving knife in his hand.
“I see,” Ando was disappointed, but picked up a finished emblem.
“Is this the emblem you helped carve?”
“Yes, it’s a Guardian Angel.”
“What’s an angel?”
“An angel is a messenger of the Lord, guiding the souls of the dead to the Heavenly Kingdom. It’s written in the Holy Scriptures. Haven’t you memorized them yet?”
“It’s only been one night. There are so many words—how could I memorize them all?” Ando said, a bit guilty.
“These are the Lord’s words, expressions of good, and truths of the world. As long as you remember them with your heart, even if not word-for-word, you can engrave the meaning in your heart.” As he spoke, Agamemnon finished another emblem.
“I’ll memorize them as soon as I can!” Ando raised his voice, then changed the subject. “These emblems are for those soldiers tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. The priest said they can protect their lives and reduce their suffering.”
“I see,” Ando was moved. “Then make one for me too—no, two.”
“You need them too?”
“No, no, not for me,” Ando shook his head. “For my brother and sister.”
“I can’t take up a sword to protect them yet, so I’ll ask the angels to protect them for me.”
“You really care about your brother and sister,” Agamemnon looked up at him. “I can help you carve two.”
“But the priest said these emblems need to be blessed too.”
“Ah…” Ando looked disappointed.
“But you can ask the priest to bless them.”
“No, that won’t work…” Ando flatly refused.
Using things from the church for himself made him feel guilty.
“But, I’m a monk now too. Maybe I can bless them?” His eyes lit up.
Agamemnon paused for a moment, then continued carving.
“Maybe,” he said.