When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#708 - The secret fire of the windmill land

As Armand, the appointed successor of the Holy Axis civil officials, settled in Water Dam City for two weeks, it seemed as if nothing had happened.

The laborers were still moving wooden crates, transporting bone china cushioned with wheat straw into the ship's holds, and carrying silk from the holds onto the docks.

Newspaper vendors, leading donkeys, stuffed newspapers into the door seams or in front of the windows of each household, while the tea restaurants and taverns remained filled with idle citizens and speculators.

The oligarchs were still attacking the "Art Grove" newspaper, and the editor of "Art Grove" was still urging everyone not to hoard white sugar.

But out of their sight, everything was quietly changing.

On a desolate street near the docks, three men in coarse monk robes walked slowly, occasionally stopping to pretend to adjust their clothes, but secretly turning their heads to look around.

The three stopped next to an abandoned green-walled small church, they knocked on the large door covered with copper rust nails, and after about ten seconds, a gap in the door revealed an eye.

After confirming that it was only the three of them, the gaunt old priest inside opened the door and pointed behind him: "Come in quickly, we've been waiting for you."

This church, covered with vines and ivy, looked desolate on the outside, but was clean and tidy inside.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, the monk who was preaching immediately looked up, his right hand gripping the crossbow under the pulpit.

Only when he saw the three people in front of him did he release his hand holding the crossbow: "So it's the O'Leige brothers, you're late today."

"Damn devil bishop, they won't let us leave unless we clean the chimney," the eldest O'Leige stretched out his hands, showing everyone the soot in his fingernails, "but the chimney is not even my responsibility, and I missed dinner because of it."

The dozens of low-level monks and helpers in the church all made voices of condemnation and curses.

They rolled up their sleeves, revealing the body hair stuck to their arms with sweat, almost using all their strength to scold their monastery director or workshop owner.

Although they lived in Windmill Land, which was envied by other places for its wealth, the lives of these ordinary people were not as good as imagined.

The remnants of the church and feudalism were still firmly pressing on the heads of low-level monks and laborers, not even giving them time to look up at the sky.

Although Windmill Land was in a semi-autonomous state, there were still a large number of religious landlords and feudal nobles within who were loyal to the church and the Leia Kingdom.

Although the citizens and craftsmen hated them, they had to rely on them for a living, because only these senior clergy and nobles had enough spending power.

"Alright, alright, we'll talk about the complaints later," the monk knocked on the table, "Where were we... oh right, we said earlier that the Holy Father gave mankind the inherent right to freedom, and endowed mankind with wisdom and reason in His own image, so the free choice you make is what the Holy Father expects you to do..."

Finding a row of seats to sit down, one of the O'Leige brothers took out a notebook and raised his hand: "But in that case, does that mean the church doesn't need to exist? Then why does the Holy Axis need to exist?"

"No, no, no," the Holy Father Society monk immediately denied, "What our Holy Path Sect denies is the legitimacy of the Holy See Church, not the necessity of the existence of religious organizations, just as we do not deny the necessity of confession, but deny the legitimacy of indulgences..."

"I understand, you mean that an organization of shepherds of the Holy Father should unite believers, guide them to goodness, protect their believers from demons, and be representatives collectively elected by the believers," another low-level monk asked with a bright look in his eyes.

"Yes, very smart, you are really smart," the Holy Father Society monk couldn't help but look at these people with admiration.

Perhaps due to differences in education and economic level, the low-level monks in Windmill Land comprehended the various ideas of the Holy Path Sect much faster than the low-level monks in Thousand River Valley.

"...The difference between the Holy League and the church is that the church seems to only manage the believers' faith world but controls everything of the believers, while the Holy League seems to only manage the believers' real world, but never restricts your freedom, unless you violate the conventions jointly formulated by everyone..."

"...Then what does the Holy Father encourage? Labor, freedom, equality... We love everyone..."

"...When we talk about demons, we judge by their actions, not their hearts. If they act like demons, no matter what they look like, how are they different from demons..."

A bean of light rose in the desolate and foul-smelling small church. Besides the preacher's sermon, the only sound in the ears was the rustling of monks and helpers' pens across the paper.

However, this bean of light was not only lit next to the abandoned church on the banks of the canal.

In the attic of a luxurious residence in the center of the city, missionaries told citizens about the value of freedom and the absurdity of indulgences.

In the manors and autonomous villages on the outskirts of the city, a circle of young farmers surrounded the Holy Path Sect missionaries who had helped with the work all day.

On the deep and dark Windmill Land plains, countless lights that seemed to be blown out by the wind in the next second lit up one after another, but the cold sea breeze in December could not extinguish them at all, but instead burned brighter and brighter.

Slowly, slowly, there will only be more and more such lights, until they are hot enough, until they can ignite the black curtain covering the sky.

…………

Under the bean-like but bright whale oil lamp, Armand sat by the fireplace, his freshly washed hair wet, and a wisp of white steam rose under the baking of the fireplace.

Over the past month, Armand sometimes hid in the riverside villa to write hard, and sometimes ran to the streets or the countryside to wander around and chat. The original thin page of investigation report was now as thick as a finger.

Honn decided to send Armand to Windmill Land for a reason. His own resume was quite suitable for this job.

Although Armand was a central monk, he was always doing a lot of local grass-roots work, either uniting people's hearts or developing local organizations.

During the autumn training period on Autumn Twilight Island, Armand presided over the development of the loyalty faction in Jeanne d'Arc.

During the strategy of Golden River Township, Armand developed and won over the local monks and priests in Kashia County.

After the Battle of Rapid Stream City, Armand was also doing the organizational work of the Holy Father Society in Hotham County and the two Upper and Lower River Counties.

There was a reason why Armand and Rene had a good relationship. The two sides had cooperated on the hidden front countless times.

This time in Windmill Land, he was even more successful. The atmosphere here was much better than the closed and conservative Thousand River Valley.

Putting down the pen in his hand, Armand couldn't help but show a satisfied smile on his face as he looked at the list of the Holy Father Society in front of him.

The number of monks and observer monks of the Holy Father Society in Water Dam City, Windmill Land, had reached about 300, mainly poor citizens, self-cultivating farmers, laborers, and low-level monks.

Although there were only more than 30 real core members, except for a few lecturers from Thousand River Valley, they were already actively participating in social life.

From the messy booklets on the table, Armand randomly picked up one and flipped through it countless times.

Unlike the veiled reprints and criticisms in "Art Grove", these booklets were full of topics that could not be touched.

Metaphysically, there were classical theodicy and freedom, and metaphysically, there were exposures of the absurd and corrupt acts of the monks and a large number of jokes about the Inquisition and the Holy See.

Among them were also mixed a large number of reports and records from the people, such as a porter's day, a potter's day, a farmer's day, etc...

The next step was to start printing theological pamphlets of the Holy Path Sect and start preaching widely with these members as the core.

Whenever he thought of this, Armand's originally tired spirit would improve a lot.

"Bang!"

The door was kicked open with a loud noise, and the focused Armand was startled, even dropping the booklet in his hand to the ground.

"Armand!" Lufeier stomped to the opposite of Armand in deerskin boots, slamming his hands on the table, "I ask you, I ask you, when, exactly, will the white sugar arrive?!"