This is a luxury item that was sent from the pastoral areas in the west. Its current cost is several silver coins. It is a privilege exclusive to the royal family.
I just thought of something - yes, that day when the Regent was forced to make a promise to the people under heavy pressure.
To be honest, Garson was surprised that day.
Because he originally planned to bring down the regent on that day and then execute him in secret somewhere.
But no one expected that this man with a quick mind would choose a crazy move that "offended people on the surface", but in fact [temporarily brought supporters who were originally variables to his side to support him] and he had to extend his safety period for a year.
Under the surging public opinion, Gasson's alliance naturally had to give up temporarily.
It’s a pity that the Regent obviously overestimated the character of those untouchables.
If the untouchables all have the noble qualities of the children of aristocrats, can they still be called untouchables
When he thought of this, Garson couldn't help laughing. After swallowing the mutton full of fat, he took a sip of wine and sighed:
"They can buy off the people with just a few words... They are truly worthy of being the Church of Light. I wonder if those already magnificent churches have added a few more floors, and if those already wealthy and fat priests have a few more gold rings!"
The parish has a deep-rooted control over the people. After all, it is said that priests will deliberately put some addictive drugs in the "holy water" when preaching on the streets, and then spray them out as water mist.
Under the mist, the priest loudly praised the greatness of the God of Light, and those untouchables who accidentally inhaled the mist and had no self-control would naturally follow him and listen to God's teachings.
Anyone who can wait ten minutes before eating dessert can ignore the priest's tradition, but this seems a little too difficult for the untouchables
Gassen took another sip of wine, chuckled a few times, and snapped his fingers.
"Send a secret letter to General Dreshuka - just say that the royal family had no choice but to bow to the diocese, but with the support of "gold coins" and "veterans", I will try my best to fight for him in the next parliament to allow the warlord to expand his army independently. But as a price, he needs to help me fight against the diocese."
For this reason, the power of religion cannot be ignored.
Gasson's face became serious. If there is no external interference, this drought will be back on track in three years at most - by then, the entire Roman Empire will be Gasson's game table.
As long as he can maintain the balance between factions through political means, it will only be a matter of time before he becomes the first emperor in the history of the Roman Empire.
The warlords who only want to fight, the religious leaders who only want to make money, the nobles and landlords who only want to protect themselves - what political means can they use to fight me? What prestige can they use to fight me
As long as I still control my niece as a puppet, I have the right to issue orders to the world—
Even if you are dissatisfied with this, you must obey the Queen's orders and maintain superficial unity and peace.
Not to mention, with your ignorant minds, would you choose to hate me instead of hating the little queen
A bunch of fools...
The only regent who can fight me is gone, and it's just you? Humph...
Just a bunch of fools.
…
The little queen's uncle acted recklessly in the palace of the royal capital.
At the same time, the saint who was praying in cloth in the simple temple under St. Peter's Basilica also heard the news that her friend was coming to visit her.
"A visit? A representative of the royal family? What's going on? What on earth has happened in the past few years?"
The saint, who had been kneeling on the mat to pray all the time for several years except for washing, eating and sleeping, was very puzzled.
But a feeling of resentment rose in my heart.
After so much time, he still refused to come to see me and only sent Priscilla to discuss trivial matters with me.
When will he finally come to his senses and be willing to throw himself into the arms of my Lord
snort!
The saint shook her head and just said that she would abide by her oath and would not leave this simple temple until he came in person.
But she could give in.
Let Priscilla come in four days later - I want to hear what conditions this little witch has to tell me.
With resentment towards Yang Hao for not contacting her all year round, the saint started praying again and asked her personal nun to leave.
The whispered praises to the God of Light rang out again, and this time it was four days later.
Priscilla had already led his party on horseback to St. Peter's, the religious capital of the diocese.
Even though she was used to extravagance in the royal family, she was shocked by the wealth of the parish.
Chapter 22: The Kagad Massacre
Priscilla thought he had seen the extravagance of the royal family. The golden sculptures and utensils were indeed very beautiful at first sight, but after seeing them for a long time, the knights were just a bunch of glittering metal.
But to the parish.
When Priscilla and the Imperial Knights first looked up at the towering "St. Peter's Basilica" surrounded by countless churches with towers inlaid with jewels and gold.
They still felt that they had underestimated the wealth of the parish, and even more so, the parish's ability to amass and protect wealth.
The believers that one encounters by chance on the street all have pious looks on their faces, and the priests who preach and hold mass on the street have their hands full of rich jewels.
They all looked bloated and wealthy, and even the nuns around them, who were supposed to be plain and simple, looked as charming as prostitutes in the capital's most exclusive nightclub.
No, in fact, she is just a prostitute, right
She happened to pass by a priest and a nun who were celebrating mass, and saw with her own eyes that the priest's hand was digging into the valley with his fingers covered with gold and silver rings through the nun's robe, while the nun just took advantage of the believer's head down to give the priest a look of dissatisfaction yet enjoyment. Priscilla swallowed hard.
Are these really priests and nuns? Are these really not nobles and their sponsored ladies
The Witch of Night shook her head and followed the leader's instructions to lead the team into the first floor of St. Peter's Basilica, which was hundreds of stories high, to rest for a while.
Saint Cecilia and Bishop Peter are contrasting characters. One lives in a simple church forty stories underground, while the other lives on top of a tower high in the clouds.
This time, Priscilla came to represent the royal family to talk with the saint. In addition, because Patriarch Peter was "praying devoutly to God", the nuns and priests of St. Peter's Basilica did not allow Priscilla to move to the upper floors.
Therefore, they could only take a short rest on the first floor. They could only stay here. Considering that there was a dinner with old friends at 10 o'clock in the evening, Priscilla did not eat too much under the persuasion of the priest and the nun.
This place is really too luxurious. She muttered. Lamb from the western pastures, fish bought from the coastal military region and packed in seawater, and even still alive after being transported here, and all kinds of delicacies from the Monster Forest...
All this makes Priscilla wonder whether the drought our empire is experiencing is real
The fragrant meat aroma in front of me is real, and the drought in the central area is also real.
What is going on here
The Night Witch ate a little of the stewed tender lamb.
Knight Robert on the side whispered that according to the prices in the royal capital, the meal in front of them had to be calculated in gold coins.
…
At 10 o'clock in the evening, Priscilla was allowed to take the stone elevator alone into the underground church.
It is said that this is a product of ancient human technology - but that empire has disappeared, and now it is the world of new humans, so naturally these facilities have been directly transformed and used by the parish.
Priscilla absentmindedly watched the stone walls around her change from brilliant gold to light gray covered with green moss. When the elevator finally stopped on a floor full of cracked bricks and stones, she found that she had arrived.
Stepping out of the elevator, on both sides of the corridor are clean yet simple hooded stone statues of the God of Light.
A faint smell of salt and grass came from the front - does Cecilia even have the mood to cultivate flowers and plants underground to cultivate her sentiments
The witch muttered to herself, and finally followed the guidance of a simple nun and walked forward to take a look—it was the lobby of the underground church.
Apart from the saint's kneeling mat, a statue for praying, candles for lighting and vents on the wall, the only things that look relatively new are the tables and chairs for dining.
Saint Cecilia was wearing a cloth dress and a cloth cloak, with long light golden hair and golden eyes. At this moment, she was sitting on one of the chairs, with her hands in a praying position, praying to the black sour bread and dried pickles that were only eaten by the poor on the table.
Seeing her old friend coming with a surprised look on her face, Cecilia just raised her head and smiled:
"Simple meals, this is how I've been living these past few years - I can't give up my vows, so this is all I can do to entertain you."
"It's okay. I'm here mainly for business."
Priscilla nodded, then sat down opposite Cecilia with her staff.
She found the food on the table hard to swallow, but as the emergency call rang, Saint Cecilia just frowned, waved for the nun to hang up, and stuffed the simple food into her mouth with a very calm expression.
While eating, Saint Cecilia frowned as she looked at the underground summons that had just hung up and heard the emergency ringing sound again.
“Let them - unless there is something really urgent, forward the communication to the Patriarch, the White Cardinal, or Patriarch Peter.
I have already chosen to abide by my oath and pray to God in the underworld. Why do these worldly matters have to come to me at this time? Is there really no capable person on earth?"
The nun naturally did not dare to neglect the saint's anger. She hurried over to communicate with the person on the other end of the line for a few minutes, and the noisy ringing finally subsided.
Now, the two friends could finally have a normal conversation without interruption.
Thinking of this, Cecilia couldn't help but frown, and then she ate a few more bites of dried vegetables that were difficult for ordinary people to swallow.
She asked the Witch of Night why she came this time, but also said that she had given up all worldly rights.
"If you are here to trade with the diocese on behalf of the royal family, I can only convey the matter to the Bishops' Council in my personal name, and then ask Patriarch Peter to temporarily lower his status for my sake...
I can't guarantee that they will listen to what I say. After all, you know, once the interests of countless people are involved, even I can't make the choice on their behalf."
When it comes to this, Saint Cecilia can't help but sigh: "After all, not everyone is the late emperor... Until now, I have been praying for the heroic spirit of the late emperor, hoping that he can also watch the flourishing development of the empire he and Yang Hao built with their own hands after his death.
But then again... Priscilla, why do you say... transactions between the "parish" and the "royal family"? Is it necessary to be so unfamiliar under normal circumstances? Is it possible that our empire has already shown obvious factional divisions?"
"Uh..." The Witch of Night opened her mouth and looked at her friend who had locked herself up underground for two years and who, after the parish truly gained independence, stayed in the church to pray almost every day and never asked about worldly affairs.
She really didn't know what words to use to tell the saint what the Roman Empire on earth had become... Fortunately, the saint didn't dwell on it too much, but just nodded to indicate that they should deal with the business first.
We talked about business from 10pm to almost 11:30pm.
The royal family expressed its willingness to open the portal network to St. Petersburg and connect it to the northern network.
This would facilitate the parish's missionary work, but in return, the parish should also provide financial support to the royal family.
Cecilia thought there was nothing to say, but she was very confused - wasn't this something that had been agreed upon long ago? Why was it only now being brought to the table for formal discussion
Thinking of this, she couldn't help but think of Yang Hao. Although it was a fact that she had been hiding from the world and praying day and night underground out of spite.
But in the final analysis, she did this because she trusted that he could make the Roman Empire better and better under the guidance of the heroic spirit of the late emperor, right
Why is it that this important matter, which should have been completed when he retired from the world, has only been put on the table now? And has the portal network now become a monopoly of the royal family
This gave Cecilia a headache. After all, it was a portal network.
A convenient product that uses ancient human technology and is modified with modern magic. Although the cost is extremely high, it is unparalleled in convenience in commerce, military, and religion.
The royal family can send representatives to coastal cities at any time to supervise the operation of the army. Merchants only need to pay a tax in the area where the portal network is opened, and they will no longer be affected by time and distance and may not make a penny. Similarly, parish priests can also use the portal network to carry out convenient national missionary work...
Now only the northern portal network is open, which means that the diocese can only preach in the north...
The "restrictions" from the royal family still made this reclusive saint realize that the situation on the ground was more chaotic than she had imagined.
Didn't he do his job properly? She couldn't help but complain in her heart, but she finally calmed down.
She calculated the parish's accounts - although the parish had indeed amassed a large amount of wealth recently, the matter concerning the "Forest of Elves" still caused a considerable loss in this part of the financial revenue.
So it seems that the financial support she can propose to the Bishops' Council can only be less...
"At most 3 million gold coins or items of equal value per year. No more. Regarding the accounts, Patriarch Peter is also having a headache about the matter of the Elf Forest."
"Three million?"
"Too little? Then for the sake of our old friendship, add another 1 million."
Priscilla opened her mouth. She was originally wondering if this was too much. After all, it was 3 million gold coins of "financial support" per year...
With this money, it became possible to purchase food on a large scale in the name of "luxury goods" to survive the drought. But she didn't expect that she would get another 1 million gold coins after a moment of hesitation...
The wealth of the parish is indeed not to be underestimated.
Priscilla nodded with difficulty. Looking at the accounts in her old friend's hands, she really wanted to know how much wealth the parish had now.
Just when they had come to an end and were about to talk about some trivial matters, the ring rang again.
Seeing this, the saint sighed heavily and asked the nun to hang up the phone quickly:
"Someone has been disturbing my peace recently," she said apologetically. "Every time I answer the phone, it's all about trivial matters - even a small town celebration requires me to go there and perform miracles... I really can't stand it, so I simply refuse all the calls, but they are still so persistent."
"After all, you are in a high position no matter what. No matter how much you want peace, the people under you still rely on your leadership."
"But I am just a saint. Priscilla. I am just a saint who leads people to my Lord. I should not have any political rights - even if it is necessary. And I hate to go against a group of people."
"My personal opinion cannot affect the overall situation. But you can."
"Then when will he be willing to come over on his own initiative?"
"Uh..." He won't come over again - before Priscilla could finish the sentence helplessly and prepare to confront Her Excellency the Saint... there was another series of sharp clinking sounds.
Sheng Mei frowned, already a little impatient: "Ying Ai'er! Hang up on her."