The Holy Church Begins with Bestowal of Blessings

Chapter 351 : Luck

In the morning, the appearance of the Dragon-Eagle and Griffin stirred up surprised discussions among the people of York City.However, no one felt afraid.

After all, they lived in York City—the center of the world!

They were merely curious, wondering what those two flying creatures were.

But unlike the commoners—who had been guided into being highly tolerant under the influence of Oscar and his control over the bard apprentices—those in the Senate viewed the matter with gravity.

After all, thanks to Oscar’s influence, these bard apprentices had learned a thing or two about exaggerating news.

“My people told me those are Tier Three flying magical beasts,” said Councilor Puniel, his expression grim.

In the Senate chamber, all eight councilors were present except for Agamemnon.

This too was an unspoken rule within the Senate—once the leading councilor arrived, formal proceedings began, and certain conversations became inappropriate.

Therefore, before the official start, time was set aside for these frequently traveling councilors to converse freely.

After all, besides being councilors, they were also nobles with real territories. They didn’t reside in York City year-round. In fact, outside these three days, it was rare for all councilors to gather.

“They merely flew past and landed inside the Castle of Lundex. Perhaps it concerns the mysterious king. Maybe in a few days, we’ll know what it’s about,” said Councilor Julian.

Among the seven present, he appeared the most relaxed.

But the moment he said that, the other six grew even more grim.

It had been six years since the five-member Senate transitioned, and three years since it became an eight-member Senate. They had all become accustomed to this new power structure.

At the very least, with their baronial and viscount titles combined with their council positions, even marquises had to treat them with respect.

Moreover, they could influence the entire political landscape of Greenwood from within the Senate.

This was power they never imagined having before.

And all of them knew that once the king ascended the throne, they would lose at least ninety percent of their current power—perhaps even their lives.

So, they were unwilling to relinquish such authority.

They did not wish for the king to appear.

Now, those two creatures flying over York City seemed to declare that the castle, previously believed to house only cleaning servants and guards, perhaps already had a master within.

Or rather, that their every move was being observed by the possibly existent King of Lundex.

Thus, Julian’s words displeased them.

Still, they said nothing.

There were only so many councilors in total, and they all knew Julian’s background well. He had been designated by the Church of the Sanctuary from the beginning. He also oversaw all troops belonging to York Territory and imposed restrictions on the armies of other nobles.

Since the beginning of recorded history until now, the military had always been of utmost importance. As long as there were enough knights, the power of holy relics could even be disregarded.

Even when power was redistributed, only control over York Territory’s local guards was delegated.

Compared to the authority Julian wielded, that was negligible.

If not for Hastings holding a councilor’s title and support from other members—and Julian himself having no interest in seizing this power—Hastings would have long been his de facto subordinate.

Since Agamemnon entered the Senate and became Consul, Julian had become his echo. Whatever Agamemnon said, Julian followed blindly—even if it harmed noble interests.

And Julian himself was a titled viscount, a noble in his own right.

“But for unfamiliar Tier Three beings to fly over York City without credentials or any councilor’s knowledge—that’s a provocation against the Senate,” said Councilor Bevan suddenly.

“Councilor Bevan is right. They’re magical beasts—flying ones, no less. If they had attacked from the sky, there would definitely have been casualties,” added Councilor Jeffrey. He then turned toward Hastings, whose expression was darkening. “Councilor Hastings, you are responsible for the defense of York Territory. This should fall under your jurisdiction.”

Puniel let out a grin. “Indeed. I think you should promptly mobilize your knights to capture those two magical beasts, lest they harm anyone. After all, the Royal Castle is right beside the Senate and the Church of the Sanctuary.”

“We humble councilors may die and that’s that, but if the esteemed priests are harmed, that’s a real problem.”

There was a barb in Puniel’s words.

In politics, there were no eternal enemies, but beyond being politicians, they were nobles. Thus, the seven of them naturally divided into three distinct factions.

Puniel, Bevan, and Jeffrey formed one camp—also the original councilors—with matching flax-colored councilor robes.

Julian stood alone, donning a dark red councilor robe.

The remaining three belonged to the third faction, with robes of dark purple, deep green, and gray, respectively.

The three new councilors had carved up the power of the previous four, creating natural friction.

At least on the surface.

But they all understood—this three-faction dynamic only existed because the table did not require harmony. When it came to specific interests, no one minded standing with a sworn enemy.

At this moment, Hastings sincerely wished he could challenge Puniel and his faction to a noble duel.

True, he managed York Territory’s defense, but this was all happening right under the noses of the Senate and the Church of the Sanctuary. A single mistake could strip him of his power.

And sending his knights into the Royal Castle was clearly a blatant trap.

If he really dared to do that, an emergency council meeting would be convened that very night to strip him of power for “attacking the Royal Castle.”

Most likely, the very three men pressing him now would be the ones to propose it.

So Hastings would rather do nothing, gambling that the two magical beasts wouldn’t cause trouble, than fall for their bait.

“However, for two unfamiliar Tier Three magical beasts to appear above the center of the Kingdom of Lundex, over York City, and for Councilor Puniel to only now receive news—have you not been derelict in your duties?” asked Councilor Joaquin Fenrir, clad in a dark purple robe, his hawk-like eyes fixed on Puniel.

Among the three new councilors, Fenrir had gained the most power. He was responsible for all taxation except for trade levies. All York Territory’s tax officials answered to him, and he also set the tribute that other noble lands owed to the King of Lundex.

His authority was among the highest in the Senate.

Hastings gave Fenrir a grateful glance, and Fenrir returned it with a friendly smile.

“Who knows where those two creatures came from?” Puniel replied carelessly to the accusation. “They just appeared out of nowhere. My men reported their tier within half an hour of them being spotted over York City. That’s already quite efficient.”

“Half an hour isn’t even enough for Councilor Fenrir to walk from his manor to the Senate chamber.”

“My Warriors’ Guild only monitors beings from the Kingdom of Lundex. Those two are magical beasts—not humans. And who’s to say they even belong to Lundex?”

Still, he let Hastings off the hook in his response.

Puniel didn’t expect Hastings, a three-year veteran of the Senate, to fall for such a simple provocation. The three of them were just digging a hole for fun.

If Hastings fell in, great. If not, they’d still leave a mark. Accumulate enough of those and they might bring him down eventually.

Puniel had no interest in continuing the topic, but Fenrir wasn’t done. “When Administrator Piero was still around, he once asked you whether the work of the Warriors’ Guild was too overwhelming. After all, it was supposed to monitor everything beyond the Kingdom’s forces. You vowed back then that no dangerous element above Tier Three would escape your guild’s surveillance.”

Puniel’s face flushed red, his gaze turning sharp toward Fenrir.

But Fenrir remained unafraid, staring him down.

“Those are magical beasts, Councilor Fenrir,” Puniel said through clenched teeth.

That had been during the first half of the first year of the New Testament Era. The Northern affairs had settled, and Puniel had fully handed off the mercenary issue and expanded the Warriors’ Guild. Piero had asked during one of those meetings.

Back then, not yet accustomed to the eight-member Senate, Puniel had arrogantly tried to claim more power.

Now, those words had come back to bite him.

“I’m responsible for the Warriors’ Guild. You’re a noble, a councilor—you should know what defines a warrior,” Puniel stated firmly.

Fenrir blinked in mock realization and asked as if seeking advice, “So your Warriors’ Guild only identifies human warriors?”

“Otherwise, do you think those two magical beasts would cooperate for tier assessment?” Puniel shot back.

Just as he finished, a youthful voice rang out, “In that case, let’s establish a new guild for tier classification of magical beasts.”

Among the councilors, even the youngest—Hastings—was over thirty. A voice that young could only belong to the current Consul, Agamemnon.

All seven men stood at once and turned toward the door—where they saw Agamemnon entering with a broad grin.

Agamemnon felt that he was quite lucky today—he had just arrived and already someone had handed him leverage.