I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 411 The Foolish Church

Humans are not perfectly integrated machines. As long as one is a person, one will make mistakes, and when one makes a mistake, one must make amends.

Elena still has a chance, but it's hard to say for some others.

"Ugh……"

A heavy sigh, as if carrying all the raindrops that had not yet fallen before the harvest season, rolled out from the round chest of the Crawford priest.

He was now sitting in a simple, creaking country carriage, the carriage swaying along the bumpy dirt road, causing his sturdy body to rock gently.

His round face, which was always habitually filled with a warm smile, was now unusually clouded with worry, his brows furrowed into a knot, and even the soft flesh on his chin looked particularly heavy.

Overwhelmed with worry, Crawford subconsciously touched the warm, earth-colored holy emblem on his chest. In the past, this emblem always brought him peace and strength, but at this moment, it felt like a heavy stone pressing on his heart.

Crawford has been given a mission, so much so that he, who should be spreading the glory of the Earth Mother Goddess in the countryside of Tradnoy, consolidating the farmers' faith, and preventing the priests of the agricultural goddess from taking advantage of the situation, needs to return to Tradnoy immediately.

The content of the mission terrified him and even made him feel a little absurd.

What task?
Go and rectify the church's mistakes, plead with Prince Chris, and save the new High Priest Byron Thorne.

Crawford scratched his head as he thought of High Priest Byron.

He wasn't very familiar with Byron, who was rumored to be a good man, a devout lover of the land and a caregiver for farmers, whose face was etched with lines like furrows of a plowed field, filled with reverence for Mother Earth.

But... is this true?

Crawford didn't think he was like that, because truly sincere priests were at the grassroots level, preaching and interacting with farmers, while the high priests at the top were more like politicians.

The so-called good-natured Byron... well, Crawford certainly didn't believe it, since he had never seen Byron in the rural parish.

Especially after Crawford learned that Byron wanted to join forces with the Church of the Goddess of Agriculture, proposed to Prince Chris to form a "holy army," and wanted to draw soldiers from the Royal Guard and carry out cross-border operations in the name of the church...

That's practically suicide.

Crawford felt a chill run down his spine at the thought. This wasn't about purifying the snake people; it was about touching the most sensitive sore spot of the royal authority.

Crawford knew nothing about this from beginning to end. Although his status within the church had been raised, he remained a priest, not a high priest.

"So stupid...so stupid..."

Crawford couldn't help but mutter under his breath, his chubby fingers unconsciously twisting the faded brown linen robe he was wearing, its edges worn and faded.

This robe had been with him for many years, stained with mud and sweat, and had borne the grateful tears of countless farmers. But never before had it made him feel so frail and powerless, as if he could be pierced at any moment by the strictness of the capital and the cold gaze of the young regent.

The intelligence has been relayed back: Prince Chris not only rejected the applications for holy crusades from the two churches, but also approved the formation of a holy crusade by a church called the Mechanicus, and even appointed the Minister of Transport as the high priest of the Mechanicus.

This news struck the high-ranking members of the Church of the Earth Mother like a heavy hammer falling on an anvil, leaving them dizzy and disoriented.

The Church of the Earth Mother Goddess doesn't really have any opinion on the Cult of the Machine God, because the latter is just a makeshift organization, clearly a product of a group of people playing around.

Even though this sect has churches in the capital and its doctrines seem legitimate, from beginning to end, from top to bottom, they are just a makeshift operation.

Crawford had spent time in Tradnoy and witnessed firsthand the activities of those so-called "Cult of Astronomers" on the streets.

Their "church" was less a sanctuary and more like a noisy workshop, filled with clanging and the smell of machine oil and metal shavings.

Their "doctrine" sounds incredibly impressive, with phrases like "the logic of the all-knowing god" and "the gospel of steel," but upon closer examination, it's as hollow as the echo of striking an empty iron bucket.

Their "missionary work" is even more childish! Unlike the Church of the Earth Mother, they don't go deep into the fields to listen to the farmers' suffering, pray for them, heal their illnesses, and mediate their disputes.

The "priests" of the Mechanicus, called Sages, are more like salesmen with novel blueprints and models, eager to show blacksmiths and craftsmen some strange "inventions" and then try to convince them that "the logic of steel can bring about more efficient production."

Lacking historical foundation, a profound theological system, and a broad and devout base of believers, Crawford suspected that most of their followers were either members of the blacksmiths' guild or simply idle members of the prince's guard who had nothing better to do than join in the fun.
More importantly, there is no true god behind them.

The Earth Mother Goddess Gaia is real and true; her divine power flows through the fertile soil and can be sensed and guided by devout priests.

What is the "God of Machines" that the Mechanicus refers to?
A vague and ethereal concept?

A symbol conjured up by a blacksmith?

To traditional clergy like Crawford, this was nothing short of blasphemy against the word "faith"!

however……

His Highness Chris's handling of this makeshift operation has genuinely terrified Crawford and even the entire upper echelons of the Church of the Earth Mother.

Holy Expeditionary Force!
The title itself carries a sacred sense of mission and legitimacy for military action, representing the highest level of secular authorization the Greek continental church could obtain. This is because it means the church can legitimately form armed forces to act in the name of "purifying heresy" and "maintaining order."

This is an honor usually reserved for large churches with a rich history, a large following, and the high trust of the royal family.

The fact that the Church of the Earth Mother and the Church of the Goddess of Agriculture joined forces to make this request was, in Crawford's view, extremely presumptuous and dangerous, so it was perfectly normal that it was rejected without hesitation.

But now, Prince Chris has casually tossed this "signature artifact" that represents immense power and prestige to... the Cult of Machines?
That frivolous organization whose very existence is questionable, even regarding the existence of gods.
The signals conveyed by this action alarmed the church leadership.

Prince Chris doesn't care about the church's traditions, heritage, or so-called sanctity.

In his eyes, the "Holy Army" was merely a tool, a title, which he could give to anyone as long as it suited his political needs.

The Church of the Earth Mother Goddess regards it as a sacred and inviolable "artifact," but in His hands it is like a toy that can be given away at will.

This was not merely an appointment, but an attempt to artificially cultivate a new religious force completely dependent on royal power.

A "tool sect" that has no historical baggage, no independent demands, and is easy to control.

Who is the Great Sage of the Cult of Machines?
He is the Kingdom's Minister of Transport!
This blatantly demonstrates the monarchy's intention to control religion... Church leaders must be high-ranking officials of the kingdom, and the will of the church must be subordinate to the will of the kingdom.

Crawford knew that High Priest Byron had stepped into a truly forbidden zone this time.

Prince Chris is not one of those weak kings who relied on the church for support; he is the embodiment of the hammer, a ruthless tyrant.

Byron's position as High Priest is now precarious, and even the entire Church of the Earth Mother in Bagnia may suffer a severe blow as a result.

Then they remembered Crawford.

Why is he?
Crawford smiled wryly.

Perhaps it's because he's one of the few... no, maybe the only one in the church who can speak to Prince Chris.

What the higher-ups valued was probably this faint old friendship and his reputation as "kind and harmless" among the lower-class farmers.

He was made to play the role of a "good guy" and a "peacemaker," trying to soften the heart of the one on the throne with a humble attitude and a little bit of old affection, begging him to be lenient and let Byron, the high priest, off the hook, and give the church a chance to repent.

"How can this be……"

Crawford gazed at the fields, already beginning to turn golden with the promise of harvest, rushing past the carriage window, and felt a profound sense of powerlessness.

Does he know the regent?
No, he doesn't understand at all.

Crawford only knew that the other party was the embodiment of iron and order, a ruler who was so efficient that he was almost ruthless.

In Chris's eyes, Byron's proposal was nothing short of a naked challenge to royal power and a seed of division.

Would he change his mind because of a few pleas from a fat country priest?

The carriage rolled over a stone, jolting Crawford awake from his reverie. He instinctively gripped the edge of the carriage, the holy emblem swaying on his chest.

Prince Chris's move was a hundred times more ruthless than directly punishing Byron or suppressing the church.

He was undermining the very foundation of the faith; he was declaring through his actions that the old order of faith would be broken, and a new "faith," shaped and controlled by royal power, was about to emerge. And their Church of the Earth Mother Goddess was likely among the first to be swept into the annals of history.

Therefore, the task must be completed.

Save Byron?

This is no longer the key issue, but the high priests don't seem to understand the seriousness of the matter.

For the sake of the church, for the farmers who trust in Mother Earth, not for the sake of High Priest Byron, who was a church politician who made a mistake.

Crawford had no choice.

"Mother Goddess of the Earth..."

Crawford closed his eyes and prayed devoutly and bitterly.

"Please grant your lost servant a little courage, a little wisdom... and a tiny bit of luck, so that I may at least finish what I have to say..."

His round face showed even deeper sorrow, as if the carriage heading to Wotradnoy was not a horse-drawn carriage, but a prison cart heading to the guillotine.

The festive atmosphere of the harvest festival seemed far away; what stood before him were the cold stone walls of the capital and the unfathomable, icy gaze of the young monarch.

(End of this chapter)