The Holy Church Begins with Bestowal of Blessings

Chapter 395 : Control

The fertile Greenwood primarily brewed beer from wheat, but for the nobles, the taste of such beer was far too coarse.Thus, honey wine became the favored drink among Greenwood's nobility. Due to limited production, honey wine was rarely sold outside of Greenwood.

Compared to wheat beer, its flavor was smoother, the aroma stronger, and it carried a subtle sweetness of honey.

“However, the fruit wine from the Woodlands isn't bad either. At the very least, it's easier to swallow than the wheat beer those Northern barbarians like.” Gregor made his customary jab at the Northerners before picking up the carved wooden cup and downing the fruit wine in one gulp.

“In the past, Woodland fruit wine was also popular among the Northerners. But a few years ago, when Greenwood opened a trade route through the Northwind Mountains, the number of Northern merchants coming to buy fruit wine dropped significantly,” said Marquis Shalier.

Marquis Shalier wore a pair of curled mustaches and a wide-brimmed hat adorned with beautiful feathers.

The Woodlands, rich in forests, naturally housed many birds. However, the locals typically wore vine-woven hoods that blended with nature. Hence, this wide-brimmed cloth hat was purchased from a Greenwood merchant.

Of course, the bird feathers were originally sourced from the Woodlands—Greenwood had no birds with such beautiful plumage.

Marquis Shalier certainly knew that wearing such a hat inside a cramped vine cabin was a foolish act.

But if a little foolishness could please Gregor, he didn’t mind playing the fool.

“Hahaha! I find this fruit wine quite good. Perhaps I'll have merchants from the Doyle Territory purchase some Woodland wine in the future—if you're interested, of course. And naturally, we’ll stick to the old custom and settle with York Gold Coins.” Gregor was very pleased by the marquis’ foolishness and saw no harm in flaunting his wealth to his future father-in-law.

Marquis Shalier chuckled and raised his cup. “Of course. Right now, York Gold Coins are the most valuable currency in the Woodlands. I even have friends thinking of forging them to make a fortune. But even when gathering the Woodland’s finest craftsmen, they couldn't produce perfect forgeries.”

Gregor responded proudly, “Hah, even if you manage to replicate the coin’s appearance, it would never be a true York Gold Coin.”

“Greenwood’s craftsmen are far superior to those of the Woodlands—no, they are the best in the entire world. One rather foolish noble did manage to imitate the coin’s appearance using these craftsmen.”

“But it was only a superficial resemblance. Anyone with a brain would immediately recognize the fake. It wouldn’t be accepted.”

“Unfortunately, that noble wasn’t quite foolish enough. After seeing the magical qualities of the real York Gold Coin, he turned over the molds, blueprints, and the craftsmen to the Senate. In the end, he was merely fined a symbolic thousand gold coins and let go.”

Gregor's voice grew tinged with regret by the end.

Marquis Shalier said, “It’s precisely this resistance to forgery that makes York Gold Coins so valuable. In the Woodlands, the exchange rate between equally weighted and pure gold coins and York Gold Coins has already reached twenty-one to one.”

Gregor generously said, “In five days, when you return with me to Doyle City, you may bring some gold. If you exchange it within my territory, I can offer a rate of eight to one—because I am the Marquis of Greenwood, and I have Bishop Jeremiah. Of course, if you don’t mind the trouble, you may go to York City directly—the exchange rate there is five to one.”

Marquis Shalier shook his head. “I may be a Woodland noble, and we are friends, but that doesn’t mean the nobles along the journey will treat me with the same kindness. Compared to the profit, I trust you more.”

Gregor replied, “You don’t need to worry about them. I will have the Doyle Knight Order escort you. In Greenwood, no noble dares to disrespect my Knight Order.”

At these words, Marquis Shalier’s expression showed hesitation. But in the end, he said, “I thought it was by your order. But it seems someone falsely issued it in your name.”

Gregor froze. His once high spirits sank, and he frowned, asking gravely, “What do you mean?”

Marquis Shalier explained, “Yesterday, a fleeing army passed through my lands. They were formidable—over forty knights among them—and the warriors who followed were all elites. This was a force capable of attacking my castle.”

“But they seemed to be pursued, fleeing directly across my land while plundering two villages in their path without pausing.”

“After receiving this news last night, I sent Windwalkers to investigate. I also dispatched men to Greenwood to uncover what had happened. Over forty knights is no trivial matter.”

“This morning, before the sun rose, I received a report. It was as if someone had deliberately spread the message: ‘Marquis Gregor Doyle has declared a rebellion against the Senate and rallied a large group of Southern nobles.’”

“But the Senate was prepared. The rebellion was crushed, and Doyle Castle—used as the battlefield—was destroyed. The rebel leader, a man claiming to be Gregor Doyle, was also killed in the conflict.”

“But I know you’ve been here with me this entire time. There’s no way you could have led a rebellion from Doyle. That’s why I had to let Camilla disturb you today. This matter is too strange—and too important.”

As Marquis Shalier finished speaking, Gregor’s expression turned increasingly unreadable.

From schadenfreude at hearing Shalier’s lands were in trouble… to shock at hearing of a rebellion under his name… to realization dawning with an ugly twist in his face… what remained was only complexity.

He asked, “My castle was destroyed?”

He didn’t test the waters. He didn’t have the mood. He asked directly.

Marquis Shalier locked eyes with Gregor. Upon seeing his reaction, his expression grew sorrowful.

He said, “The entire castle and the district where officials and knights resided was destroyed. It was some terrifying weapon. We don’t even know from where it was launched—yet it flattened Doyle City’s core region. The power far exceeded even my own Liberated Holy Relic. Naturally, at such force, Doyle Castle—being at the very center—was reduced to rubble. And within that rubble… there were no survivors.”

Gregor turned to look at Camilla, who had remained silent the whole time.

By noble custom, Camilla had no right to sit at the table.

But as the future marquess, she was granted special permission.

The seat of honor was empty, and Marquis Shalier only sat opposite Gregor—showing great respect.

Camilla looked at Gregor and added, “Not just your bloodline, but your servants and the nobles feasting in the castle—all died in that blast.”

“All the officials in the Second Gate district were wiped out. Most of the knights as well. Those who fled through the Pegira Territory were the survivors—perhaps among them are some of your Doyle Knights.”

Gregor opened his mouth, but no words came—his lips trembled.

Camilla continued, “When I received the news, I sent Knight Edwin and Knight Kelton to investigate. They wished to report the matter to you and await your command. But after seeing your condition, they said nothing—and silently left to carry out the mission.”

“They are so loyal to you that even in such circumstances, they refused to disturb you.”

Camilla couldn’t help but let some sharpness creep into her voice.

It pierced Gregor like a needle, waking him as if from a trance. He said, “Yes, they are loyal. Their loyalty has been recognized by Bishop Jeremiah. They are knights I can trust—loyal knights.”

Then he suddenly remembered something and asked, “What about Bishop Jeremiah?”

Camilla replied, “I have heard no news of harm coming to Bishop Jeremiah.”

Upon hearing this, Gregor seemed dazed, murmuring, “Nothing could happen to him… nothing must happen to him… after all, he…”

His words stopped abruptly. He looked down and saw that Camilla had, at some point, gripped his weapon.

The slight sting brought him back to himself.

He immediately wanted to get angry, but Camilla spoke first: “I know you grieve for your blood relatives. But your most important task now is to protect your body. Only then can you return to your territory with your fury, rally your army, and hunt down the one who dared impersonate you.”

She gestured toward the table—or more precisely, toward Marquis Shalier.

Camilla said, “Today’s meal was specially prepared. If you wish to remain a strong knight, you must eat well.”

Marquis Shalier was leaning forward slightly, as if trying to hear Gregor’s murmurs.

But once both sets of eyes turned toward him, he quietly sat upright.

He said, “Camilla is right. You must take care of your body.”

Then he set down his knife and fork. “I still have matters to attend to. The panic caused by those knights’ passage must be soothed. They used some weapon to blow open a village, and now my vassal nobles suspect they carry a Holy Relic. I must go reassure them, so please excuse me.”

“If this venison leg isn’t to your liking, you may summon the servants. A hunter just delivered a freshly killed spotted deer today—you’ll surely enjoy it.”

With a slight bow of apology, Marquis Shalier stood and departed, giving Camilla a look of approval before leaving.

Once his figure vanished, Gregor finally said, “Perhaps you should learn to be gentler. That way, I might better feel your comfort.”