The Holy Church Begins with Bestowal of Blessings

Chapter 356 : “The Apprentices’ Uprising”

It did not matter what Oscar thought. After all, he was a respected dean of the monastery in the eyes of outsiders, but he himself knew that he was merely a prisoner.Therefore, when Bishop Corleon decided to dismantle the monastery, Oscar could only carry it out.

However, though it was called dismantling the monastery, in reality, it meant relocating everyone out of it.

When he announced this news, the scholars did not say much—just let out a sigh.

The youngest of the scholars were already in their forties. They had spent the prime of their lives in the Old Testament era, and most had once served as advisors to nobles. They understood the logic and cruelty of the world.

Moreover, they already wore the cross on their chests. They also understood that the current turmoil within the monastery did not align with the needs of the Church. So, when Oscar announced the news, they were not surprised—instead, there was a sense of inevitability.

Some even thought, “It should be this way.”

But while they could accept it with composure, the apprentices were not so willing.

Even if they would still be taught by the same scholars after the relocation, the political meaning behind it would no longer be the same.

In York City, Councilor Jeffrey had already established an academy. It began recruiting apprentices in the first year of the New Testament Era, and by now, it had already graduated five cohorts.

Like other regional academies, these institutions followed a one-year cycle with new intakes every six months.

However, the graduates from these academies could at best perform the most basic jobs—most could not even become officials.

On the other hand, apprentices who graduated from the monastery could, if they wished, become mid-level officials, joining the vast circle of “monastery graduates.”

This political advantage came not just from the education they received, but from the monastery’s identity itself.

It must be noted: due to resource limitations, the affiliated monasteries of other diocesan great churches only trained priests and taught no other knowledge.

So when Oscar issued the notice, the apprentices did something that stunned the scholars—and even left Oscar in a daze.

They stormed to Oscar’s office and blocked his door.

"How dare they?!" Oscar muttered under his breath, feeling as if he had not yet awakened from a dream.

He could hear the clamor from outside the door—apprentices loudly protesting the relocation, mingled with their demands.

For instance, they insisted that the relocation could be accepted, if their two cohorts could still graduate from the monastery.

In the end, these apprentices did not dare to forcibly break down Oscar’s office door. Perhaps it was too expensive, or perhaps they simply lacked the strength at their age.

Oscar waved his hand, and the noise outside was sealed off.

He used magic to stimulate his brain into thinking, and only after blood seeped from his scalp did he finally understand.

The age for enrolling apprentices had been set by Bishop Corleon at twelve to sixteen. But due to travel and certain understandings among the nobility, only children from York Territory or nobles from other regions would enter the monastery—most of them aged twelve to fourteen.

That meant these children had been born in the Old Testament era, but by the time they reached the age of awareness, the Church of the Sanctuary had already been established. They had lived under the Church’s protection and had never experienced the brutality of the Old Testament era.

So, when they received news that the title of “Monastery Graduate of the Church of the Sanctuary” would be stripped from them, they immediately exploded in anger.

Even with the reanchoring of the monetary system, only those from households of some status could afford to hand over thirty York Gold Coins.

When the Church first reset the value of currency, the standard was set so that one gold coin should be able to purchase enough white bread to feed a person for a year.

And thirty gold coins—even in the central York Territory—were difficult for a farming family to earn in a year, even if they ate nothing.

Therefore, the families of these apprentices had long emphasized the importance of graduating from the monastery and forging good relationships with classmates and scholars.

As for the dean? Forget it—that lunatic should be kept at a distance.

And now, they were to be relocated from the monastery. How could they not be terrified?

For apprentices from wealthy families, losing the identity of “monastery graduate” would cause their inheritance rights within the family to plummet.

For those whose families had scraped together just enough to send them to the monastery, losing that title would destroy their only chance of rising in class.

“So, they had the nerve to block my door?!” Even after figuring out the reason, Oscar still found it hard to believe.

“Yes, it has already happened,” said Melia.

She had come to discuss the academy’s budget with Oscar, only to be blocked by the apprentices as well.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” Melia asked with some curiosity.

At twenty, she had grown increasingly beautiful. Walking through the monastery, her full figure often caught the eyes of young apprentices.

Melia disliked being looked at that way.

So she now wore a wide black robe and usually stayed on her office floor.

Since Agamemnon had left, she was the only one on that floor.

Melia still had not found a man she was willing to marry.

In the first year of the New Testament Era, young nobles and their heirs had pursued her. But now that she was twenty, no one sought her hand with marriage in mind.

Though the priests had subtly influenced society, it had only raised the average marriage age from twelve to fourteen.

“What do I plan to do?” Oscar revealed a furious smile. “The same way I’ve always handled it, of course.”

“Let me think... the last time I punished apprentices was seven years ago, during a graduation ceremony. I wiped clean the memory of an apprentice who defied my order and expelled him from the registry.”

“After that, the little ones were quite obedient. But now, it seems they’ve forgotten what happens to disobedient children.”

His eyes were bloodshot—he was clearly furious.

“I should remind you, this is already the New Testament Era. The old ways of dealing with apprentices no longer work,” Melia warned.

“At York Academy, a scholar once punished a student who stole a book—cut off the student’s hand. That student’s father was a baron, and in the end, Councilor Jeffrey intervened and fined the scholar fifty gold coins.”

“Hah, even if his father were a marquis, he still wouldn’t be above me,” Oscar sneered.

“But Bishop Claudy approved how that matter was handled,” Melia replied.

Oscar’s face turned calm.

He casually tossed a red glass bead into a box on his desk.

“And the reason?” he asked.

Melia replied, “The bishop said that a person’s body is a gift from the Lord and should be kept from sin. Theft is a sin, so the sin must be removed to preserve purity. The punishment is based on the value of the stolen item—cutting a finger, a hand, or even the head.”

“The stolen book was a first-edition work by the late Scholar Caleb, worth about twelve gold coins. Theft under ten gold coins warrants a finger; over ten, a hand.”

Oscar said, “So the scholar was merely acting according to the Lord’s teachings, as clearly defined in the law.”

“Yes, that part is all correct,” Melia nodded. “But the apprentice was only fourteen—still two years from adulthood—so he was still under the Lord’s blessing.”

Oscar asked, “So because of that, the scholar had to pay fifty York Gold Coins?”

Melia replied, “The bishop said that a child, once tainted by sin, is no longer under the Lord’s blessing. The amputation purified the apprentice’s sin. But the Lord loves mankind. Since the child lost the remaining two years of blessed childhood, the scholar had to compensate for those lost years.”

Oscar smiled. “So the fifty gold coins were the compensation?”

Melia shook her head. “No. The bishop used the average annual income of a York Territory commoner—ten gold coins—as the basis.”

“Two years is twenty coins. The extra thirty were simply due to the scholar’s compassion for a child who lost both his hand and the Lord’s gift.”

“That’s as it should be,” Oscar agreed sincerely.

Melia asked, “So how will you deal with them now?”

Oscar’s tone grew stern, as if delivering a judgment. “As you’ve said, they are guilty of the sin of greed.”

Melia responded, “I don’t think it’s that serious, but you’re the dean, so your word stands.”

Oscar said, “They’re all thinking only of future gain. That has blinded them. As you said, I am the dean and ought to be respected. Yet they blocked my door, driven by greed—that is surely sin.”

“Ah, yes, yes, yes,” Melia nodded repeatedly. “So, what’s your plan?”

Oscar was known to have trained some truly disgraceful bard apprentices, many of whom had used Melia as material. In this era, a twenty-year-old unmarried woman was practically unheard of.

Even though Oscar had punished the bards, Melia had never trusted his mouth—and trusted it even less now.

She was simply curious about how he would handle the matter.

Oscar said, “They have been tainted by sin and are no longer pure. Therefore, they have lost the Lord’s gift. Entering the monastery to study was the Lord’s gift to children, and I shall strip them of that right and expel them.”

“When did entering the monastery become the Lord’s gift to children?” Melia asked, unable to hold back. “The Pope only ever said children aged twelve to sixteen could study at the monastery—he never called it a gift.”

Melia had lived through it and had every right to comment.

“Before sixteen, they are still children. Everything they enjoy is a gift from the Lord. The honorable Pope Corleon stated the age range as twelve to sixteen—that is childhood,” Oscar replied with a most humble expression.

After speaking, he cautiously glanced at the ceiling, making sure no thunderbolt had come down before straightening up.

“Dear Melia, you know me—I am not allowed to lie. So the fact that I can say this means it must be accepted by the Lord,” Oscar said, perfectly serious.

Melia froze, then leaned her head back in shock, staring at Oscar.

“As expected of you, the man who once tried to deceive the Pope—Dean Oscar,” she said with a sigh.

Thus, all the apprentices who had blocked Oscar’s door were expelled from the monastery. The once lively place quieted down by seventy percent in an instant.