Imperial Calendar, October 25, 1445.
The autumn wind finally dispersed the cooking smoke hanging over Joan of Arc Castle. Horn had just finished arranging Petier’s work when he received news from Rapids City.
Ludvik, the current Abbot of the Blago Monastery and an elder monk of the Juanist Faction, finally arrived at his devout Joan of Arc Castle on October 25.
In the dense smoke of burning straw on both shores, three barges with a displacent of about 50 tons slowly sailed in.
These flat-bottod boats are the most common rchant vessels on inland rivers, about 5-7 ters wide. Before they got close, Horn could already see the black pitch and pine tar sared on the hull.
The white sails were rolled up, the long oars retracted, and the long plank extended from the side of the ship to the pier’s walkway.
First to disembark were three to five monks dressed in coarse knee-length military garnts, with daggers and short-handled chain hamrs hanging from their waists.
Then, surrounded by two wielders of Crow Pecking Warhamrs, were three black-robed monks neatly shaved in a Paul-style diterranean haircut.
The one on the left was naturally Horn’s old friend, Martin, who was smiling and nodding towards the beckoning Armand.
The one on the right was a short, plump, hook-nosed old monk. The loose monk’s robe was stretched by his fat, taut like a giant onion.
He disdainfully lifted his robe to avoid stepping on the filth of the pier, although under Horn’s public toilet mandate, the pier was basically free of filth.
The elder in the middle seed to be over seventy, with neatly combed white hair, more robust in stature than the two monks beside him.
He had a pair of inverted triangle eyes, with a thin scar across one eyebrow. In his youth, he must have been a dual-flower red pole figure in the Juanist Faction.
But now aged, with raised eyebrows and hooded eyes, he appeared benevolent and kind-hearted.
"Welco to Joan of Arc Castle, all of you."
Horn quickly went forward with Jeanne, Armand, and Catherine to greet and introduce themselves.
Ludvik evidently had done his howork with Martin, knowing the Holy Path’s handshake etiquette, and took the lead by grasping Horn’s hand with his thick right hand.
"I expected you to be young, but not this young." Patting Horn’s hand, Ludvik turned, and in slurred speech, laughed to the monks behind him, "Indeed, as the saying goes, local talents erge from youth."
The monks joined in the laughter one after another.
Horn wasn’t sure if he was senile or joking, so he just laughed awkwardly along: "The Salvation Army has always revered the wise. Today we have truly t with the arrival of the old Abbot Ludvik."
"I apologize. The affairs of the Blago Monastery have been busy, and though we had originally scheduled for mid-September, we are only here now," the old Abbot Ludvik said, tightly gripping Horn’s hand with a hint of apology.
"Coming early doesn’t beat arriving at the right ti. The Abbot of Long Embanknt Monastery has already reached Black Pottery Town and will arrive at Joan of Arc Castle tomorrow."
The so-called Abbot of Long Embanknt Monastery is actually Louise.
Years ago, most of the Monastery system at Black Snake Bay had already been overshadowed by local Secret Factions.
The Church has turned a blind eye because sotis they need these interdiaries to seek help from the Secret Faction.
Black Snake Bay’s Secret Faction doesn’t cooperate with the Church, but they can collaborate with the Monastery.
Despite any appearance of self-deception, both sides tacitly consented.
After all, religious doctrines aren’t as significant as business; it’s adequate enough.
"That’s excellent. We haven’t seen each other for at least ten, err, twenty years." Martin nearly spoke out to "correct" when Ludvik almost slipped.
Finally, old Ludvik released Horn’s reddened hand and began introducing the Protectors on his left and right.
"You’ve t Martin, and this is Rang Buluo, our Priest of Worship at Blago Monastery."
"May the Saint Master bless you," Horn shook hands and greeted him.
"May the Saint Master grant you blessings," the short, plump Rang Buluo looked Horn in the eye, put on a professional fake smile, and shook Horn’s hand.
Horn blinked, said no more, and turned to continue introducing the significant figures behind him to Ludvik.
Among them were Madlan, Armand, Jeanne, and old acquaintances like Catherine and Mitney, who naturally began idle conversation with Ludvik.
At this ti, the other two barges docked, and each disembarked over a dozen Juanist Faction monks.
Most were middle-aged, seasoned monks accompanied by two or three young monks or nuns, a classic hot-blooded trio combo.
Horn imdiately understood that this was probably the first batch of fifty monks accompanying Ludvik to lend support.
If Ludvik’s eting was successful, there would be a second batch of fifty monks, with around three batches totaling approximately 150 people.
These were the results of decades of Juanist Faction fostering orphans and providing free education, now reaped by Horn.
"Does Dean Ludvik plan to tour or rest first? I’ve just prepared ingredients for a banquet tonight for you."
Dean Ludvik, kindly patting Armand’s shoulder, said, "One today and one tomorrow would be wasteful. Since the Abbot of Long Embanknt Monastery is here, let’s combine them."
"Ahem, ahem, ahem..." Rang Buluo coughed, moving close to Ludvik.
Ludvik seed not to hear, draping an arm around Armand as he continued speaking with Horn and headed towards the carriage.
With a sardonic expression, Martin watched as Rang Buluo snorted and laboriously climbed into the carriage.
Sending Ludvik to the countryside villa rather than keeping him in the city had its reasons.
Security-wise, sending him to Kush Castle was best, but the place was damp and chilling, requiring fires to be lit year-round except in sumr.
Horn feared that putting Ludvik in there might cause him to catch a cold and die at his advanced age.
Judging by Protector Rang Buluo’s expression alone, Horn could already guess that there were internal disagreents in the Blago Monastery towards him.
Reports from Xiaochi City indicated that during previous wars, a large number of noble and knight families had fled to Kasha County.
Those escaping nobles, naturally, wouldn’t say anything good about Horn, constantly saring and spreading absurd rumors.
Under Juanuo’s governance, Kasha County consisted mainly of affluent farrs and small landlords, with not many poor people, but they could still enjoy tax reductions similar to transfer paynts.
This made Kasha County, although a pioneer experint of Juanuo’s reform, structurally more reasonable and stable than other counties.
When dealing with Horn, the locals’ fantasies hadn’t shattered yet and they seed to gravitate towards aligning with knights and the Church.
They were the staunch traditionalists who believed everything before their birth was the absolute truth.
For these affluent farrs and small landlords, they still had opportunities to beco retainer knights, knights, or even counts. Why let the Salvation Army, which preaches "equality for all," rule over them?
Yet they failed to see that their status was built on the suppression by the Church and secular nobles.
It mainly relied on the Monastery forces integrated by Juanuo, the Secret Faction support from behind, and the economic, political, and military support from Catherine and Moliat.
Once Juanuo dies and Catherine and Moliat turn, they will undoubtedly beco the pri targets for the nobles.
This isn’t rely an age where the carnivores are contemptuous but an era where everyone is contemptuous.
Strategic thinking and perspective are absolute rarities in this era, not possessed even by many great nobles.
Fortunately, the Ludvik here was a wise man, willing to take the initiative to align with them.
Whether genuinely or with feigned affection, it’s a step that’s absolutely correct.
"With the city being bustling and crowded, sending you to the countryside villa for a rest. I’ll pay a visit after changing," Horn gestured a ’屮’ character beside the carriage towards Ludvik.
"Alright, alright, don’t co straight away. I need a nap." Ludvik waved his hand towards Horn and pulled his head back inside the carriage window.
Watching the departing carriage, Horn turned and began walking back into the warmth of the Joan of Arc Castle.
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