parentshiftbook Chapter 394 : Exchange of Civilizations
Chapter 394 : Exchange of Civilizations
Borien said, “I had already believed you could become a knight long ago. I merely hesitated, unsure if my observation was correct, and thus dared not make a decision lightly.”Knight Selvan replied, “So, now that you have these two Holy Relics, you are finally able to make a decision?”
Borien shook his head and said, “Not entirely.”
Knight Selvan was about to ask further, but Borien changed the subject and said, “I did not write your name on it, because you are not yet a member of the Knight Guild, and you haven’t told me that you wish to undergo the Knight Guild’s trial to become one of its knights.”
Knight Selvan said, “You already have the Holy Relics bestowed by the Pope and gained his recognition. To have one's name left on that scroll means to be acknowledged by the Church as a knight. Such an honor—which knight would refuse it?”
“However, I am loyal to Marquis Richard. I am a knight of the Oath Knights, and I will always be one. At this moment, I have no intention of abandoning my lord.”
Borien said, “Becoming a member of the Knight Guild merely means you acknowledge the Guild’s assessment of knighthood—it does not mean you serve the Guild. You are still an Oath Knight. Only, in addition to that, you have accepted the Guild’s evaluation. When you grow old and leave the Oath Knights, you could consider working for the Guild to rest and recuperate. Or perhaps… help teach the apprentices at the Glory Knight Academy.”
Knight Selvan said, “If that’s the case, then I am willing to become a member of the Knight Guild.”
A smile appeared on Borien’s face as he said, “As the President of the Knight Guild, I acknowledge your membership. However, before completing the Knight Trial, your rank within the Guild is that of a First-Tier Apprentice.”
Selvan did not mind the title. He simply asked, “Is that all? I thought you would, like the priests, perform some ritual and chant incomprehensible words into the scroll. After all, this is a Holy Relic of the Church.”
Borien replied, “At least for now, that’s not necessary. Right now, I can’t wait to witness the birth of a new knight.”
After speaking, he unfurled the scroll and wrote Selvan’s name upon it.
Once he finished writing, a line of text slowly emerged on the scroll.
“The wicked flame blows from the west; a resolute will dances within the fire.”
The two fell into silence.
After a moment, Borien said, “Well, perhaps I should go seek Bishop Claudy. A proverb like this should be interpreted by a bishop.”
Selvan said, “No, I’ll go seek Bishop Marl for the interpretation. Besides, I should return and demonstrate knight magic to Marquis Richard.”
Borien nodded and said, “Very well. This is your proverb, and also your trial.”
Borien felt that perhaps he would have to bear this level of trust—one that was nearly at the bishop’s level.
The characteristic of Greenwood lay in its vast plains and fertile lands. The Northland was known for its barren mountains and harsh climate. As for the Woodlands, its defining features were dense forests and abundant fruits.
Of course, these were regional traits.
For nobles, building castles within the forest was a very normal thing.
One could even say, it was unavoidable.
If one refused to accept the naturally growing forest and insisted on cutting down all the trees to build a castle, it was likely that within a year, the trees sprouting from the ground below would tear the castle apart.
Because of this, castles in the Woodlands were generally built by finding suitable spots within the forest, using sturdy vines intertwined with wooden planks to construct unique vine castles.
Such castles appeared to be blessed by the forest—unshakably sturdy.
Thus, the people of the Woodlands all believed that the forest was the mother of all things—the mother who gave birth to everything. This belief was shared by everyone living there.
However, Gregor could not get used to this type of castle at all.
For instance, when waking up early in the morning, the vine-woven bed would painfully tug at his fur.
It felt as though the fur was being forcefully plucked out. “Hiss!” Gregor's eyes snapped open. He threw off the beast hide and looked at the tufts of fur caught in the vine bed, his face filled with fury.
After that, seeing Gregor’s expression, someone reached out to comfort him.
The anger on his face faded. He wrapped the beast hide and laid it behind him, then lay back down calmly and said, “Just five more days, and I can return. I’ll take you with me. Then you’ll know—compared to Doyle City, your so-called proud City of Lopez is nothing but a barbaric, undeveloped place.”
“And then you’ll also understand how big and comfortable the beds in my castle are. My bed is covered with the pelt of a snow bear from the Northlands. Those beasts—an ordinary Tier Four knight wouldn’t even be able to kill one.”
The City of Lopez was the main city of Marquis Shalier, and his territory was known as Lopez Territory.
The woman snuggled up to Gregor and said, “Even I’ve heard of the prosperity of Doyle City. All those merchants coming and going speak of it with pride, boasting of their origins there. You truly are a great lord.”
“Not only do you possess the rich Doyle Territory and the flourishing Doyle City, but you’re also a powerful Knight Order Commander…”
When the woman mentioned “Knight Order Commander,” Gregor’s interest waned a little.
He did not know how Bishop Jeremiah would treat his Knight Order after his departure.
“If Valorian had a great lord like you, the Woodlands would surely become a land no worse than Greenwood,” the woman said, her voice growing increasingly coquettish as her bare, voluptuous body pressed closer.
She looked up at Gregor, her cheeks flushed and her eyes brimming with allure, which instantly made Gregor cast aside all thoughts of his territory and reignited his enthusiasm.
Affairs of the territory were being handled by Jeremiah. As long as he listened to Jeremiah and stayed here, that was enough.
It had always been this way before, and the results had only made Doyle Territory more prosperous.
That proved this approach was correct. Since it was correct, Gregor believed continuing this model was sufficient.
So now, he needed to follow Jeremiah’s instructions and establish good relations with the people here.
Just as Gregor was preparing to deepen the “civilized exchange” between the two lands, the door was pushed open.
A young girl entered, followed by two guards.
She had rare dark green hair, smooth and flowing. Her face was slightly gaunt, her nose straight, and her slender brows were tightly furrowed. Upon seeing that Gregor had no intention of stopping his exchange of civilization, her frown deepened.
“It seems the esteemed Marquis of Doyle is enjoying his stay quite well. Even after a long night of exertion, he still has such enthusiasm now that the Morning Star has risen,” the girl said plainly.
“Oh, Camilla, my future wife, you should have faith in your future husband’s stamina. Your future husband is a knight, after all. And once you become the Marchioness of Doyle, you must learn to call the Morning Star the Sun,” Gregor said to the girl, Camilla.
The woman beneath him cried out louder.
She seemed flustered at being caught by the master, yet dared not resist the noble marquis.
After all, her orders were to ensure the marquis was satisfied with the hospitality.
Still, with a hint of pride, she cast a quick, challenging glance at Camilla.
Camilla was plain-looking. Even though the marquis was her fiancé, he had not chosen to be with her.
This made the woman think—perhaps she truly could be taken back to Doyle City by the marquis.
Maybe, in time, she too could dream of becoming the Marchioness.
After all, it was her looks and figure that had caught the lord’s eye.
Thinking this, her voice carried a touch of excitement.
Camilla noticed the subtle shift in her tone. Her brows relaxed slightly.
She said, “Please finish quickly. My father asked me to invite you to join him for a meal. He also has something important to discuss with you.”
Gregor chuckled. “Haha, Camilla, no wife would ever wish her husband to be quick.”
Though he said that, the “cultural exchange” grew even more frequent and thorough.
Jeremiah had told him that Camilla would be his wife, and that she was a smart woman—he should heed her words more.
Camilla said, “Nor would any wife be happy watching this.”
Gregor replied, “You’re still too young. I am a devout believer. Well… the Church does have requirements for priests in this regard. Although—only for priests. But the Church’s commands are never wrong.”
Camilla said, “Are you sure it’s because I’m too young, and not because something else is… small?”
Gregor laughed, “Hahaha, actually, you’re all small.”
Camilla said, “You could ask my father to arrange for you to marry my elder sister instead. After her husband died, she returned home. Everything about her is big enough.”
Gregor replied, “Playing with her—might be fine. But Bishop Jeremiah said you’re exceptional—suitable for me. Of course, I’ll listen… to him.”
Camilla said, “I heard from my mother that it’s just because you think having a non-virgin Marchioness would make you a laughingstock among the Greenwood nobles.”
Gregor laughed heartily. “Of course—they’d certainly mock me. But they’d mock those who take such things seriously.”
Camilla sighed. “You people of Greenwood are so complicated.”
Gregor said, “No—don’t worry. Once you’re in—Doyle City—you can always ask—Bishop Jeremiah for guidance. He’s the smartest man in the world.”
As he spoke, his movements grew more vigorous.
The woman, listening to their conversation, began to feel that her assumptions might have been off.
Was this marquis actually very fond of Camilla?
Then what about her?
Camilla, the mistress-to-be, was clearly intelligent. Could she see through her thoughts?
The woman was terrified.
She became even more proactive.
“Ah—hah—” Gregor let out a satisfied moan, bringing this “exchange” to a conclusion.
He patted the woman and said, “I think this exchange was a great success.”
The woman believed she had pleased the marquis.
A fawning smile appeared on her face. Enduring her fatigue, she got up, helped Gregor clean himself, and dressed him.
Gregor tidied himself slightly, then walked to the door and said to Camilla, “Let’s go. I’m a bit hungry.”
Camilla nodded and followed behind him.
After a few steps, she waved a hand behind her and said, “Dispose of it.”
The two guards behind her nodded, then turned and entered the room.
Gregor acted as though he hadn’t heard and said, “What has Marquis Shalier prepared for the meal? That speckled deer last time tasted quite good.”