CH-098

98 The Church's Summons

Time passed quickly.

In the second week of the school term, there was a placement exam for the academic year's subjects.

The entire grammar school's atmosphere was oriented toward academic advancement, and there existed both elimination rates and failing grades among the students.

Even though students were allowed to switch to other elective subjects if they couldn't continue in a particular one, they still had to complete the required credits within a specified time. Thus, the students themselves faced their own academic pressures. Simply wanting to coast along and idle away their days in the Savoy Diocese was not an option.

One could say the school was meticulous and comprehensive in providing for the students' basic needs—food, clothing, shelter, and transport. It was almost to the point of spoon-feeding them meals, dressing them personally, and holding their hands as they walked. Yet the academic pressure increased day by day with each grade level. Students were expected to digest the entire content of one textbook chapter within a week. Many upper-grade students habitually stayed up studying until midnight.

Veronica had originally wanted to spend more time with Bishop Aris. Unfortunately, there was too much to do. If she wanted to become a student representative again next year, she had to ensure she achieved her best results starting from the very first exam. Consequently, Veronica could only offer Bishop Aris food every morning—ranging from as small as a piece of candy to as large as a loaf of bread.

"Whatever I have, I also wish for Bishop Aris to have. I hope Bishop Aris will think of me often. If there is anything you need me to do, please command me at any time. I will do my utmost for the Bishop, no matter what it is."

Sister Rita found it strange why Veronica had suddenly become so attentive toward Bishop Aris.

She naturally didn't think it was a young girl suddenly developing a crush on the young Bishop. After all, many people had crushes on Bishop Aris, but she had never seen any of them plying him with food daily like Veronica did.

Bishop Aris generally did not accept food from others, largely limiting his circle of trust to those from four years prior. Apart from old acquaintances like Elder Yager's family, Herens, Finnian, Leslie, Bishop Hugo, and Father Simeon, he rarely ate or drank in front of others.

Even with water in his office, if he left for a period and returned, he would not continue drinking from the same cup.

Let alone other items that went into his mouth.

However, everyone simply assumed Bishop Aris was not particularly invested in food and drink, merely partaking superficially.

Seeing Bishop Aris refuse, Veronica was still puzzled. "But I see Bishop Aris eat every day?" Before she could fully understand and accept it, Veronica continued to act according to her own logic.

Sister Rita couldn't quite explain Bishop Aris's thinking either.

Perhaps he was overly cautious, perhaps he had a cleanliness obsession, or perhaps he realized the offered food wasn't actually tasty, hence the refusal.

Yet Bishop Aris accepted everything given by those he was close to. Sometimes Finnian, in a mischievous mood, would deliberately hand Bishop Aris a sour, astringent fruit, and the Bishop would still eat it without complaint.

Only after taking a bite would he definitely tug on Finnian's ear.

But giving food was, after all, a minor matter.

Sister Rita was more concerned with the important fact that Veronica had regained her original spirit.

Her intuition told her that Veronica's inner turmoil had been resolved.

And this matter was certainly related to the Bishop.

Because it was rumored that during the first week after school started, the Bishop had gathered the students from the Sermon Duchy in the school auditorium, and the students had received gifts from the Lord.

Everyone heard that the box had originally been empty, but each time someone spoke the words in their heart, the box would miraculously produce the item they desired. The students had been too excited and nervous at the time, and they hadn't dared to make grand requests of the Lord. Reflecting on it afterward, the students thought, 'If I had known anything was possible, I would have asked for something else.'

For instance, bringing deceased family members back to life, meeting friends they hadn't seen in ages, or acquiring talents they had always dreamed of possessing.

But perhaps, because they saw the gifts appear within the box, they naturally gravitated toward thinking of things that could fit inside a box.

In any case, many students harbored some regrets.

Nevertheless, it was evident they also integrated more quickly into the Savoy Diocese and became sincerely convinced of Bishop Aris's virtue. Sometimes, spotting him from afar, they would even run up to him just to greet the Bishop before leaving.

After the event of the Lord's gifts, the atmosphere among the students was noticeably more harmonious.

This also allowed the Church and the school to focus their energies more intently on the main tasks of the academic year.

The month before the official start of school was always busy, but this year it felt particularly different due to a series of special events.

Earlier this year, the school had begun preparing in advance for the graduation ceremony of the first cohort of four-year students.

Although the grammar school admitted children of various ages over twelve, the vast majority of enrolled students were twelve years old upon entry. They would become the first true graduates of the full curriculum.

After the summer holiday this year, students could choose to graduate or transfer to another institution.

If they chose to graduate, the school would arrange internships for them in various locations, after which they could select a career path they enjoyed.

If they chose to transfer, they could continue their studies elsewhere.

In order to secure a brighter future for these graduates, Bishop Hugo had striven, before their graduation, to have them participate in league competitions with southern schools. This would enhance the grammar school's reputation, ensuring these graduates would receive greater respect and recognition as they stepped into society.

"Make the grammar school one of the students' most solid foundations, aside from their family background and innate talent."

This was the educational philosophy proposed by Bishop Aris.

And they were indeed working diligently toward this goal.

Everything was progressing methodically.

However, an urgent dispatch shattered the diocese's tranquility.

"The plague in the Sermon Duchy has spread to the eastern coast of the Empire. Thousands are dying daily."

The Holy City issued a summons to all major dioceses of the Empire—each duchy was required to assemble a support contingent of no fewer than three hundred people, carrying medicine and provisions, to travel to the Sermon Duchy.

The person responsible for assembling the Northern Territory's support contingent was the itinerant bishop, 'Bishop Holm.'

The Northern Territory comprised nine dioceses. Divided evenly, each diocese needed to dispatch thirty-four support personnel.

"Whether clergy or lay believers, as long as they can deliver supplies, it counts as support." Bishop Holm stood in the center of the auditorium, his voice low but forceful as he faced over one hundred thirty clergy and believers.

The task was described as simply and clearly as possible, intended to reduce fear and allow those unaware of the full situation to participate with peace of mind, preventing resistance from arising.

Yet everyone knew in their hearts that, so far, there was no medicine or treatment capable of resolving the great plague.

Whether bloodletting, medication, exorcism, or prayer, nothing had proven effective. And this plague was extraordinarily contagious; merely exchanging a few words with a patient could lead to infection, making it impossible to guard against.

Everyone was fleeing the Sermon Duchy now; who would willingly run toward it?

Bishop Holm swept his gaze across the silent faces in the hall, his tone growing even more resolute: "The epidemic in the Sermon Duchy has been recurring for two years now. There are almost no merchant caravans or ships traveling to Sermon anymore. Local food supplies are virtually exhausted. Secular lords of other duchies have forbidden entry and exit, even erecting high walls for this purpose. Those with means can only resort to smuggling, but the vast majority of common people are simply left in the Sermon Duchy, waiting to die."

Everyone was momentarily speechless.

"This summons is, in fact, a decision reached by the Holy City after two months of debate. Time is of the essence for the victims. Because of this, I am here not merely to convey orders, but to depart with the personnel today. There is no time for discussion."

The crowd exchanged glances, offering no response.

Bishop Holm looked directly at Bishop Aris and said, "Aris, make the assignments. Time waits for no one."

This had actually been Bishop Aris's idea originally, so Bishop Holm was merely going through the formalities.

In truth, the name 'Black Death' had first spread from Bishop Aris's lips.

At the time, everyone referred to this plague as the 'Great Pestilence.' It was Bishop Aris, far away in the Northern Territory, who asked whether patients' skin turned black due to subcutaneous hemorrhaging, with black spots covering their bodies. If these symptoms were indeed present, then it was the 'Black Death.'

This name not only aptly summarized the disease's characteristics but also resonated with people's feelings of despair and fear. Consequently, from the moment the Great Pestilence began to emerge, the name Black Death spread alongside it.

Back then, Bishop Holm had also asked if this disease was treatable.

Bishop Aris shook his head and said that currently, only prevention was possible—including precaution, isolation, and improving sanitary conditions; attention to high-temperature sterilization, and also burning mugwort to purify the air. Mugwort could be harvested from the wilds, a zero-cost herb.

Saying it once wasn't enough; Aris wrote down every precautionary measure he could think of.

Bishop Holm watched from the side, his tone cool, though it was unclear what exactly he was thinking. "In the Church, a practical epidemic prevention manual would be worth at least two hundred silver coins. Any single piece of knowledge from it, taken alone, would be enough for an ordinary person who knows nothing to make a quick profit."

Aris was aware that Bishop Holm frequently made veiled criticisms of the current Church, but he never echoed them. He merely responded calmly, "Helping others is helping ourselves. If we can control the plague early and spare the Northern Territory from its impact, that is more important than two hundred silver coins."

However, after the booklet was taken away, the epidemic in the Sermon Duchy was not effectively controlled.

It was said that the clergy in the Sermon Duchy placed greater faith in the power of prayer. Having survived once through prayer, they chose to ignore the practical guidance in the booklet.

Upon receiving this news, Aris again chose to prepare for a rainy day, stockpiling large quantities of medicine and provisions.

For the sake of efficiency, he deliberately sacrificed the diversity of crop species over the past two years, focusing instead on cultivating high-yield food crops and promoting preservation and storage techniques. This practical knowledge and technology attracted the interest of many farming households.

As an experiment, they also began refraining from hastily selling their agricultural products around the harvest festival and instead started storing more provisions for their own use.

This indirectly helped more people in the Northern Territory to set aside food for themselves in advance, especially within the Savoy Diocese.

Because in the first year, before the epidemic was under control, Bishop Aris had already commissioned merchant caravans to deliver food and medical supplies to the Sermon Duchy.

Initially, only merchant caravans were willing to do this.

After all, the Sermon Duchy genuinely lacked these supplies, and the Savoy Diocese was willing to subsidize them so they wouldn't raise prices when selling.

Later, some caravans maliciously manipulated prices, purchasing goods at low prices in the Savoy Diocese and reselling them at high prices in the Sermon Duchy. Even some nobles seized the opportunity to hoard goods for profit.

Seeing the flow of goods obstructed, Aris had no choice but to entrust Bishop Hugo and Bishop Holm to issue a summons through the Church—

Calling upon the churches of various duchies to contribute funds and manpower, allowing them to bypass middlemen and deliver supplies directly into the hands of the victims.

Ultimately, failing to aid Sermon now was tantamount to sitting idly by as the situation worsened, only inviting disaster upon oneself in the end.

Yet, the discussion of such a measure beneficial to countless people had dragged on for two months before finally yielding a result.

Thus, Bishop Holm prioritized starting the recruitment of support personnel from the Savoy Diocese.

Receiving Bishop Holm's gaze, Aris stepped forward and spoke: "The majority of believers in the diocese are the elderly, the weak, women, and children. They lack sufficient stamina and would struggle to endure a long journey. Unfortunately, the young men capable of undertaking transport duties are mostly employed as teachers at the school. The school and its students cannot do without them."

"Therefore, I am now only calling for volunteers who meet the following three conditions:

First, adult males;

Second, single, with no family burdens;

Third, whose current work can be immediately replaced."

He paused for a moment, looking out at the crowd below.

"On this journey, I cannot promise that everyone will return safely. Likewise, I cannot guarantee that every effort will be met with gratitude. We will inevitably encounter many difficult scenes: people will question why we arrived so late, resent us for not bringing enough, beg us to take them away, or even reproach us for not being able to stay."

"If you are motivated by the desire to become a hero and receive praise, I urge you to reconsider."

"If you are motivated by a genuine desire to save others, even willing to die so that another might live, I also urge you to reconsider. Because I do not wish to send you to your deaths. Ensure your own safety before trying to save others."

"Our sole purpose is support. Do not, because we ourselves know the importance of this mission, burden yourselves with an excessive sense of duty or honor, much less a spirit of self-sacrifice."

"At the same time, I still want to say that even delivering a single sack of grain or one bottle of medicine can change the fate of some people. The Savoy Diocese will issue a record of merit for every participant, to be kept in the Church archives. This will serve as an important basis for future promotions or transfers. Furthermore, Bishop Holm and I will jointly write letters of recommendation to aid your future advancement, whether within the Church system or beyond."

A brief silence fell over the auditorium, the atmosphere so thick it was almost suffocating.

Seeing this scene, Bishop Holm's heart grew heavy. He was just thinking that they might meet with immediate resistance. But just then, the sound of a chair scraping broke the silence.

It was Father Leighton.

He had been waiting for a long time, watching for the right moment to stand, but kept getting interrupted.

"I meet the conditions. I am willing to go!"

This did not come as a surprise to others.

Because Father Leighton had been waiting for this opportunity.

For four years, he had been studying medical knowledge. He earnestly hoped for a chance at practical application, rather than sitting in the laboratory making remedies like horehound balm cough syrup or oxymel, or simply reopening old books to study the Ebers Papyrus.

Father Leighton's eyes shone as he looked toward Bishop Holm.

Then, a second voice rang out, "I'll go too."

It was a farmer responsible for hauling goods, a reticent middle-aged man.

More and more people volunteered. Like ripples spreading across a stagnant lake after the first stone is cast, individuals began rising from the crowd one after another.

Deep in his heart, this was exactly the scene Bishop Holm had hoped to see.

And such a scene should have been a matter of course, yet it felt so long overdue.

There was certainly no shortage of people truly wanting to do good and willing to contribute.

However, the atmosphere within the Church had grown increasingly strange over the past two decades. Even those who genuinely volunteered for good deeds would face suspicion or sarcasm. Many more responded superficially, only to shirk the hard work onto others and exploit their labor.

Bishop Holm turned to look at Bishop Aris, who had organized everything.

The reason they were so willing to participate was absolutely because they trusted Bishop Aris.

And the Church desperately needed such a spiritual leader.

Unfortunately, he could never manage to lure him away.

"..."

Bishop Holm said nothing more, only uttering softly, "May you receive the Lord's mercy and protection. And may your choice bring salvation to many more."

In less than ten minutes, the Savoy Diocese had gathered forty-seven volunteers.

Gathering and loading the supplies, however, took the better part of half a day.

That very day, the volunteers were to head south, first going to the Carson Diocese to recruit more support personnel.

Yet, just as they were about to depart, a crowd gathered in front of the town. Bishop Holm recognized them as the young people of the diocese who held no religious faith.

Puzzled, he stepped out of the carriage first.

As far as he knew, the supplies the Church had prepared were all from its own resources. Surely the townspeople didn't think that taking these supplies away would affect their own livelihoods?

But as soon as he poked his head out, he saw the people blocking their path holding various wrapped parcels in their hands.

Those faces, once so full of indifference toward the Church, now held only sincerity.

"We still have a lot of grain stored up. Please take some to the sick people."

"We had too many herbs left at home, so we dried them all. Take them with you! They're a bit heavy, sorry for the trouble."

"It's a long journey. We hope you have some good food and drink on the way."

"May you have a safe and smooth journey."

As they spoke, others were already helping to load the goods onto the wagons, leaving no room for refusal.

But in truth, the residents of the diocese had long known of Bishop Aris's plan.

In the taverns, they had heard the idle chatter of caravan travelers and had guessed why the diocese suddenly began encouraging everyone to store their own provisions.

At first, they thought it was merely to prepare for famine or epidemic prevention. Gradually, they understood that this preparation was for their own unforeseen needs.

But at the same time, it was also for that distant land gripped by plague. They had never imagined a day would come when they would have such surplus capacity to give.

One must remember, they were originally just a forgotten little town, overlooked by the world, attracting no attention, without a permanent doctor, without a church or faith, relying only on a single herbalist juggling multiple roles to save lives.

Bishop Holm couldn't help but smile, his gaze complex. "The people of the Sermon Duchy are all... believers."

"Why distinguish by faith when saving lives!"

Band, the former village chief and current head of the Savoy Diocese Trade Association, responded from the front of the group.

As his voice faded, over a dozen wagons loaded with supplies joined their procession.

By then, dusk was beginning to fall.

Band's voice rang out again.

"Light the torches—!"

His voice wasn't loud, but it sent a tremor through Bishop Holm's heart.

Looking up, he saw townspeople lining both sides of the road, silently raising torches in their hands.

Cluster by cluster, the orange-red flames formed a winding river of light along the long road, stretching as far as the eye could see.

This sight also drew the attention of students at the school, situated at the highest point in the diocese.

The students, having finished their afternoon classes, didn't yet know what was happening. They only saw the trade route illuminated by torches. They flocked to the school's terrace, chattering about whether there was some festival or celebration. The transfer students from the Sermon Duchy, in particular, didn't yet realize this procession was for their homeland. They just watched silently, an inexplicable stirring in their hearts.

Over on this side, the torches burned, the faint fragrance of pine resin slowly diffusing through the air.

"In our Savoy Diocese, we have a saying," Band said to Bishop Holm. "Those who walk the long road illuminated by firelight receive blessings from both the earth and the stars. The journey is long—allow us to escort you all the way to the Carson Diocese!"

Bishop Holm's carriage was at the very front. He couldn't help but gaze toward the distant horizon.

The clouds were deep, dyed by twilight, yet the first points of starlight were already visible, beginning to illuminate the path forward for the travelers.

Politics and religious stances were one thing.

As the initiator of this summons, he had naturally pledged to join the relief efforts heading to the Sermon Duchy and to remain until the very end.

He had discussed this matter with Duke Claude and arranged his affairs in case he did not return.

There are things a person should do, and things one should not.

When action is required, one must not waver due to political stance.

Thus thought Bishop Holm.

The firelight stretched along the way, like a blazing path of vows, reflecting in Bishop Holm's heart.

The distance between the Carson Diocese and the Savoy Diocese was less than an hour's journey.

Up ahead, figures emerged.

Bishop Hugo of the Carson Diocese had long been waiting with his people at the road's end. The support supplies were lined up in orderly rows. Bishop Hugo stood at the front; no one knew how long he had been waiting, but his familiar figure showed not a hint of hesitation.

The two exchanged glances. No words were needed; they understood each other perfectly.

Bishop Holm wondered if he was just getting old and sentimental.

Even now, looking at Hugo, Bishop Holm still felt that Hugo was the same impassioned, eloquent theological debater from the seminary decades ago.

Bishop Holm suddenly thought that if his life were to end on a day like this, it would be acceptable.

Decades of mundane toil, witnessing Church corruption and growing coldness among people, had once made him doubt the meaning of faith. But this time, personally venturing to the front lines of the plague—not for power, nor for fame—was driven by a true pastoral heart.

And this purity and conviction would face no trial, suffer no erosion.

Before him was only Hugo, and behind him the long road of firelight, the silently accompanying volunteers, and the gaze and trust of countless people.

His original heart could remain unchanged, and his vows could extend forward beneath his feet once more.

This allowed Bishop Holm to walk at the very forefront of the vow, free of distractions.

A surge of heroic spirit and determination welled up within him.

However, this heroic spirit and lofty ambition quickly dissipated once he returned to the carriage.

Bishop Holm looked at Aris, who was quietly covering Naxi's mouth and nose while trying to minimize his presence. "..."

If Hugo knew his precious treasure had secretly followed them to the Sermon Duchy, he would probably sprint all the way to drag him back.

Seeing Bishop Holm's still disapproving expression, Aris merely pretended not to understand and smiled as he hugged Naxi. "It's fine."

Bishop Holm hadn't wanted to mention it, but he still wished to keep Aris safe in the rear, so he spoke in a low voice, "The Duke will also be accompanying the expedition this time. Are you sure you want to go?"

He remembered that Aris and the Duke did not get along.

Sure enough, as soon as these words were spoken, Aris fell silent for a moment.