Children and the Church

Allen and Yorkshire walked side by side through the market not far from the Old Castle. The crowd parted like receding tides, making way for them as though avoiding a plague.

When facing nobles, commoners had to stop and bow as a sign of respect.

Allen happened to be a noble, and a famously good-for-nothing noble of the Kingdom.

So he received double treatment: the commoners would lower their heads and salute him as he passed, then point at his retreating back and whisper, "Look, that's the idiot who wasted countless precious years of the Duke's time!"

The commoners could hardly be blamed for cursing him. The Grand Duke was known as the Kingdom's guardian for a reason. In his early years, he had led armies across the land, defending the country and conquering its enemies, laying the foundation for the Kingdom of Locke's current prosperity. Yet after rising to the highest ranks, the Grand Duke had spent years traveling the continent and seeking out renowned masters just to train his youngest son, only to gain nothing in the end. Many people felt it was not worth it for the Grand Duke.

Allen turned a deaf ear. He was used to it and simply assumed those troublesome commoners were jealous of him.

My dad is rich, I'm a second-generation official, and I like messing around. What can you do about it? Die of envy, assholes.

Yorkshire also turned a deaf ear, because he was grimacing as he rubbed the huge lump on his head. Besides, he felt the commoners had voiced exactly what was in his heart.

Allen glanced at Yorkshire and said disdainfully, "Why are you standing so far away from me? Afraid people will mistake you for the good-for-nothing lord's number one lackey?"

Yorkshire rolled his eyes.

Since his rebirth, this was Allen's first time visiting the market. The commoners, dressed in ragged clothes that barely covered their bodies, kept their heads down as they hurried about. When they looked at the suddenly appearing nobles and officials, their faces showed only perfunctory respect, while their eyes held nothing but indifference.

The nobles' sudden appearance had clearly delayed their journey.

"So poor!" Allen sighed like some great statesman surveying the world. "The people's lives aren't easy. Sigh!"

"Yeah!" Yorkshire, who had been born a commoner, deeply sympathized with them. He looked at the constantly rushing crowd with pity and let out a long sigh.

Allen picked at his ear and said, "If everyone's this poor, how are us nobles and officials supposed to skim off the land? How are we supposed to squeeze them dry?"

"Heh heh!" Yorkshire gave a dry laugh and treated it as if Allen were farting.

Pointing at several emaciated commoners, Allen continued sighing. "As a qualified lord, shouldn't I at least make sure my subjects have enough to eat?"

Yorkshire did not know how to respond, but he still found himself feeling a faint trace of goodwill toward Allen.

This fellow might be a rather useless lord, but at least he hoped his subjects could eat their fill. Though he could not achieve it, merely having that thought made him better than many nobles.

Allen muttered again, "If they can't eat, where will they get the strength to work? And if they don't work, where the hell am I supposed to collect taxes?"

Yorkshire decided it was better to keep treating his words as farts. He lowered his head and continued walking, keeping an even greater distance from him.

Low thatched huts, crumbling dirt roads, and several ponies so skinny they were little more than skin and bones—all of it revealed Outpost County's poverty.

Kicking away a pebble by his foot, Yorkshire said listlessly, "Collect taxes? Even if the subjects of York County have spare copper coins, most of them hand them over to the church."

"The church? Why give them money?" Allen asked with a puzzled expression. "How much?"

Yorkshire gave Allen a strange look, then spread his hands. "You didn't know? Every subject in the county must pay three copper coins every month in exchange for the Supreme God's protection. On top of that, thirty percent of their income is taken as a contribution to the church."

"Three out of ten?" Allen sucked in a breath. This was drinking people's blood.

"Outpost County borders the Savage Ancient Plains. Barbarians and some ogres often attack the border defenses. The county's only defensive force is the Church Guard. If the commoners don't pay them copper coins, the guards won't protect Outpost County's people for free."

After saying that, Yorkshire pointed at a building in the distance and snorted coldly.

Following the direction of his finger, Allen saw a Gothic-style church standing in the middle of the main road. It looked utterly out of place amid the surrounding low houses and thatched huts. Passing commoners wore reverent expressions and detoured around it from afar.

The church was mainly colored red and gold. Its rib vaults and flying buttresses were built mostly of stone, while atop its arched roof stood a towering statue that emitted a faint golden glow.

Allen walked over with great interest, raising his head to stare thoughtfully at the statue above.

The statue's model was likely the Supreme God Holy Father worshiped by the Holy See. It had been carved with lifelike, masterful detail. Its face was majestic yet kindly; its left hand held a heavy code of laws, while its right wielded golden lightning. Standing close to it actually gave one the urge to kneel and worship.

Allen curled his lip slightly. Having studied magical knowledge since childhood, he immediately saw that Holy Light System magic had been cast on the statue. It was only meant to fool ignorant commoners.

Yorkshire stood beside him. When he noticed Allen staring at the statue with disdain, his expression became complicated. Was it contempt? Or perhaps sympathy?

When he saw a middle-aged man dressed as a priest emerge from the church, Yorkshire immediately put on a reverent expression, slowly lowered his head, and stopped looking directly at the statue.

"May the Holy Father bless you, Baron!" The priest came before Allen, nodded in greeting, and continued, "I am Wood, bishop of the Outpost Diocese. I offer you my greetings."

"This statue isn't made of solid gold, is it?" Allen asked, pointing at it.

Wood's expression became rather unnatural. Frowning at Allen's finger, he said, "Please show proper reverence, Baron."

Allen smiled awkwardly and withdrew his finger, silently cursing the old religious fraud a few times.

Yorkshire's gaze passed over the bishop, and he spotted a pool of blood before the church. Two Church Knights nearby had bandages wrapped around their arms, as though they had only just been injured.

Noticing Yorkshire's gaze, Bishop Wood explained, "Not long ago, several mercenaries from the Duke Lotel Kingdom broke in and attempted to seize the Evil Dragon Egg. But it has been dealt with. The Church Knights killed them on the spot."

Allen noticed that the bishop's expression seemed somewhat unnatural and asked in confusion, "What the hell is an Evil Dragon Egg?"

"An egg laid by a Hell Black Dragon," Wood explained. "The Beastmen of Behemoth have a spatial rift leading to a Different Plane, and many Hell Black Dragons came through it. The Beastmen of Behemoth discovered this black dragon egg by accident. Their Shaman Priests could not purify the evil power upon it, so they had no choice but to ask Holy Light Priests of the church for help."

Allen teased, "You're working with the Behemoth Orcs? Don't they worship Shaman doctrine? What, did you all unify your faith that quickly?"

"In the face of evil power from another world, any differences on the Saint Cassis Continent can be set aside for now." Wood truly deserved to be called a religious fanatic. He continued, "But there is only one Supreme God. Those who do not believe are enemies and should be destroyed. The Holy Father's glory should shine upon every corner of the continent."

Yorkshire leaned close to Allen's ear and whispered, "A lot of outsiders have come to the county. They're probably all here for the black dragon egg. There are no shortage of mages who cultivate evil magic and heretics among them."

"Can I take a look and broaden my horizons?" Allen was very curious about what this Evil Dragon Egg looked like. Since being reborn, he had become extremely curious about the immensely powerful dragons. If he could not see a dragon, touching a dragon egg a couple of times would do. Then he could go home and brag to Dina about it.

Wood smiled and said calmly, "Baron, even if you had not mentioned it, I wished to discuss this matter with you. I would like to move this Evil Dragon Egg to your Old Castle and ask you to safeguard it on our behalf. Last night, the church priests heard the Holy Father's whisper, hoping that this dragon egg would be entrusted to you for purification."

Allen froze. He could not understand why he had somehow become entangled in such a mess for no reason.

Yorkshire looked tense and gave Wood an unfriendly glance.

The useless noble beside him might not understand, but how could Yorkshire, who had spent years in the royal capital, fail to see through it? The Holy Father's whisper was complete bullshit. This was merely the church shifting trouble onto someone else. Most people who came to seize the Evil Dragon Egg were heretics, and those heretics all had different factions backing them. The one thing those factions had in common was that they worshiped what the church called False Gods.

If one of those factions accidentally killed Allen while trying to seize the dragon egg, Lord Kerlai, the Kingdom's Grand Duke, would seek revenge no matter how little he cared about his foolish son. The only beneficiary during that process would be the Holy See. By then, the Kingdom of Locke might be forcibly tied to the church's endless chariot of slaughter.

Thinking of this, Yorkshire could no longer care about his status and interrupted, "No. Baron, you are neither a mage nor a priest. Things from a Different Plane possess extremely powerful negative energy. Those with weak wills often become mentally confused and go mad after approaching them. You cannot agree to this."

It was not that he was worried Allen would truly be affected. Honestly, whether this good-for-nothing lord lived or died had nothing to do with him. But this was a major matter. If events truly developed in the worst possible direction, it could even affect the future of everyone in the Kingdom of Locke.

A single Outpost County Church had already brought so much suffering to innocent commoners. He could not imagine what kind of disaster it would be if the Kingdom of Locke were forcibly tied to the Holy See's chariot.

Sometimes, he wondered as well. Everyone in the Kingdom knew the Grand Duke was not a petty man. Had he really been sent to Outpost County merely because of one joke, or was there some deeper purpose?

But he could not find an answer. If he had been sent to serve as the Grand Duke's youngest son's caretaker, he could not see what talent he possessed. He was not a mage, knew nothing of Martial Skills, and his abilities were far from exceptional.

If he was meant to monitor the frontline situation in Outpost County, he did not have that much authority. Besides, even if enemies launched a major invasion, the garrison at Border Fortress could arrive overnight. That had even less to do with him.

"Old York, you know quite a lot. Heh heh, exactly. I'm not a priest, so how am I supposed to purify this thing?" Allen said with a grin. "You should keep this ghostly thing from another plane for yourself. I'm not looking anymore. The maid at home is still stewing soup, and it's getting late. Goodbye, sir."

Wood smiled and did not continue trying to persuade him.

Allen grabbed Yorkshire and turned to leave. Though he did not understand why the bishop wanted him to safeguard the Evil Dragon Egg, he did not believe that nonsense about the Holy Father's whisper at all. It was better to leave as soon as possible.

He figured that if the Holy Father really could whisper, he definitely would not say that. Instead, he would directly send a dream to the church's people: Allen is a counterfeit from another world, and he's an atheist. Go kill him for me...

Wood watched Allen's departing back and shook his head in disappointment.

What he had said earlier had only been an impulsive attempt. He wanted to see whether he could fool this foolish boy from the Grand Duke's family. If it worked, it would be a great achievement; if not, there was no loss. In a few days, when high-ranking priests arrived from the church, they could purify the egg then.

Back in the market, Allen cursed to himself, "Damn it, do they take me for an idiot? Trying to use me as a weapon and thinking I'd fall for it? Do I really look that stupid?"

Yorkshire nodded slightly and awkwardly.

Still, he looked at Allen with some relief.

It seemed this fellow was not beyond saving after all. He had just been about to offer a few words of praise when he noticed Allen's attention had been drawn to a half-grown child.

Allen stared fixedly at a child in the distance. The child was filthy from head to toe and wore a loose, drafty robe. The biting autumn wind had turned the child's cheeks bright red. At that moment, the child was struggling to pull a pony cart. Beneath the dirty, disheveled face, it was impossible to tell whether the child was a boy or a girl.

The pony pulling a cart full of stone bricks had stopped moving. No matter how the child pleaded, it refused to take another step. The child helplessly sat on the ground and burst into tears. None of the passersby stopped to help, hurrying away as if they had long grown accustomed to the sight.

Yorkshire felt a touch of sorrow at the scene, but there was nothing he could do. The county's subjects all lived like this. They had no comfortable homes and no future to look forward to. He could not change anything, because this was Outpost County, where a bloodsucking, damned church stood; because this was the Kingdom's border; because invaders were always trying to force their way in.

Allen silently walked over and said to the child with an indifferent expression, "You're filthy all over. Does your family know? Get lost. Don't block my way."

Yorkshire clenched his fists. He deeply regretted stopping Wood's proposal earlier. Why could nobles like this not all die off?

The child looked innocently at Allen, then silently stood up, wiped away tears, and moved aside.

"I've changed my mind. Keep sitting there and crying." After saying that, Allen turned and walked back the way he had come.

This time, Yorkshire did not hide the anger on his face at all. Allen said coldly, "Put away your cheap sympathy."

After taking several steps, Allen suddenly turned back and shouted at Yorkshire, "Come on! What are you standing there for?"

"What? Where are we going?" Yorkshire did not understand. Faced with Allen's cold expression just now, he had felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

"To the church!" Allen pointed at the child and asked in confusion, "Didn't you hate what the church does? Come on, man, you think that kind of acting can fool me?"

Yorkshire stared at Allen's handsome, resolute face and became slightly dazed.