He had been eating it for so many years that, although he had never seen it being cooked, he had gotten somewhat used to it.
If he ate a little less, he really could keep it down.
But the church was extremely frugal, and their prayers before meals included an injunction against wasting food. So finishing one bowl wasn't the end of it; they had to drink every last bit of the food in the great pot.
No matter how little Norton served himself each time, after enough helpings, his stomach still swelled until he was utterly miserable.
He had already felt a little sick, and breathing in the stench in the air, he really couldn't hold it back once he saw the strawberry tower in the church!
The food in his stomach surged up toward his throat!
Bent over, Norton looked at the strawberry tower (feces) clinging to the grass in the corner. Feeling the swelling in his stomach, he could no longer bear it.
"Retch... retch..."
The sound of retching rang out in the corner.
"Ah, I rather liked him."
"Norton? Even after being kept like livestock to this extent, he still has impure thoughts. It seems his behavior in the past must all have been an act."
Father Mia, dressed in white priestly robes, stood in the loft at the highest point of the church, gazing down with a face full of regret at Norton, who was vomiting nonstop in a corner of the cathedral below.
Beside him stood an elderly man in a black bishop's robe, watching Norton vomit below with a gloomy gaze.
They were in the loft at the highest point of the church. Though it was called a loft, it was actually more like the balcony at the top of a cylindrical European fortress. More than thirty meters above the ground, they could be sure Norton wouldn't hear their conversation.
The elderly man in the black bishop's robe was a low-ranking bishop of the church, Bishop Rosen. His standing in the Papal States was hardly worth mentioning; above him were high-ranking bishops, archbishops, and cardinals.
But in the Holy Lord Cathedral, he was already the highest-ranking person.
Father Mia looked down at Norton with regret written all over his face, his words full of wistfulness.
"Isn't it too much of a waste to use Norton as a sacrifice? The one above likes beauties with a little self-awareness best. Wouldn't it be better to offer him up?"
"After all, I watched Norton grow up." Bishop Rosen's eyes were half closed, and his expression remained as indifferent as ever, but his words brooked no argument.
In fact, he really did have a little compassion.
If Norton were offered up, the torments of hell would await him. It was said that no one had ever walked out of that archbishop's room on their own feet.
Rather than let young Norton suffer such torment, it would be better to burn him to death in the Ascension Ritual.
"In that case, have someone make preparations for the Ascension Ritual in two days." Bishop Rosen turned away, his face dark.
The Ascension Ritual was the holiest and most exalted ritual within the church. Its main purpose was to offer up people to serve God.
Becoming a sacrifice for the Ascension Ritual was the greatest honor for all church personnel, the goal countless missionaries and nuns pursued throughout their lives.
If Norton had been a missionary raised by the church without any flaws in his thinking, he would have been overjoyed to hear that he was to become a sacrifice for the Ascension Ritual. He would have fasted for three days, bathed and changed his clothes, burned incense, and even used an enema to cleanse his stomach, all to ensure he ascended in the purest possible state and became a servant at God's side.
But unfortunately, although Norton had some mental illness, he did at least have a truly free soul.
"Creak..."
Norton pushed open the wooden door. Having vomited up everything in his stomach, he walked weakly into the wooden cabin and sat down on his somewhat fishy-smelling bed board.
His face looked terrible, partly from hunger and partly from the mental shock he had suffered that day.
Human lives were worth no more than blades of grass. Although he had long since realized that over the past twenty years, he still found it hard to accept whenever it happened before his eyes.
The main reason was that he didn't want to become a blade of grass whose fate was controlled by others.
He didn't want to be seized and slaughtered like livestock someday, all for some laughable, absurd reason.
Like some damned church rule or church ritual...
But he, Norton, was useless! After being kept like livestock for twenty years, never mind learning any specialized skills or knowledge, he had even almost forgotten the abilities and knowledge he had originally possessed!
Even if he wanted to run, he would starve to death once he got out, be cut down for breaking the rules, or be killed if the church caught him... He might as well stay here.
At the very least, if he was a little more careful and didn't break the church's rules, he could stay here without doing any productive work and live safely as a missionary.
But a person needed a backup plan.
"I'll secretly stockpile some food first. If something really does happen to me one day, I can run at any time and improve my chances of survival!" Norton clenched both fists, having made up his mind.
Norton thought for a moment, then got up from the bed, intending to get some black bread from the church dining hall.
But where to put it was another problem. A missionary's robe had no pockets to hold anything, and if he found something to carry it in himself, there was no way he could take it out with him.
Missionaries had to be searched by the church knights whenever they went out or came back.
Norton thought it over and decided to put his brother through some discomfort and hide the food in his crotch. It might pick up the smell, but at least it would give him a slightly better chance of survival.
With that thought, he opened his door, ready to go out.
But as the wooden door opened-
"Whoosh!"
With the sound of a blade slicing through the air, a greatsword abruptly swept across the doorway, blocking Norton's path.
"Fuck..."
Startled by the greatsword that had suddenly slashed down, Norton forcibly swallowed the rest of his curse and looked at the expressionless face behind the blade outside the cabin.
The patterns on the white steel armor showed exquisite craftsmanship. Its intricate designs stood in stark contrast to the shabby wooden door, as though they belonged to two entirely different classes.
A church knight!
Norton's heart jolted.
I'm screwed. Could I have accidentally spoken my thoughts aloud while I was lost in them?
Otherwise, why would a church knight come looking for trouble with a lowly missionary like me?
Looking at the finely crafted, chilling steel armor of the missionary before him and the greatsword across the doorway, a blade as wide as his own arm, Norton felt his heart turn cold. He couldn't muster a single thought of resistance.
But before he could speak, a voice sounded outside the door.
"The Ascension Ritual will be held the day after tomorrow. These are the books Father Mia wants you to read." The brief words came from beside the doorway. Only then did Norton, who had been badly startled by the church knight, notice that a missionary was also standing there-the same one who had brought him books two days earlier.
The last time, the missionary had been expressionless, seemingly devoid of emotion, but now his face was full of jealousy. His eyes swept viciously over Norton's face, the envy and malice in them barely concealed.
"From now on, you can't go out or eat. You'll prepare for the upcoming Ascension Ritual." The more the missionary spoke, the fiercer the jealous fire in his eyes burned. The malice in his gaze made it look as though he wanted to eat Norton alive right there in the cabin, leaving Norton somewhat baffled.
Did I do something to offend him?
Norton accepted the books, his heart heavy.
He had never heard of the Ascension Ritual. Presumably, only missionaries were qualified to take part in it.
He didn't care about any ritual, and he had no faith in this world's damned God. His heart was heavy because he couldn't eat today or tomorrow, which was a little hard to bear after he had just vomited up everything in his stomach.
But however hard it was, he had to bear it. After all, the church knight's greatsword was no joke.
"Phew!" Norton let out a long breath and turned his attention away from the missionary whose face had been full of jealousy. Then he carried the books back into his room.
He had to read them quickly. He absolutely couldn't break any rules during the ritual, or who knew what damned fate awaited him?
Otherwise, he might be the next one cut down by a greatsword.