Joseph's face instantly became awkward. He hadn't expected this place to be so filthy and chaotic. His whole body stiffened, not knowing how to explain. He could even feel the bishop's breathing behind him becoming heavy.
"I..." He wanted to make some explanation, but Cyren's right hand pressed down on his shoulder.
With considerable force.
He watched as the bishop walked forward, took off his outer brown wool coat, leaving only a purple-black robe. His slender shoulders looked so frail, as if he would be blown over by the slightest wind in the winter cold.
The church's spacious interior was bitterly cold. Although it sheltered them from wind and snow, it still made people shiver from the cold.
Cyren sniffled, feeling the cold surging toward him from all directions, trying to drill into his marrow, yet most of the people around him also wore only thin clothing.
The people in the church saw Cyren the moment he entered, but when this young man took off his coat and revealed his bishop's vestments, their eyes suddenly showed expressions of dependence and delight.
But after only a moment, their eyes became ashamed, embarrassed, and fearful.
Because the church was already covered in manure.
A farmer struggled to catch his geese, not wanting these temperamental creatures to run wild in front of the bishop, but his geese didn't seem to obey him.
Matilda and the group followed behind Cyren, and those forty-some villagers also poured in, staring blankly at this chaotic church.
Cyren looked around, then suddenly drew the hand axe from Aldridge's waist and chopped off the back of a church pew.
"Crack!" The piercing sound echoed between the arcade and dome. People looked at Cyren in disbelief.
"L...Lord Bishop?" Joseph's voice trembled as he stared at him blankly.
Cyren roared, "What are you standing there for? Can't you see how cold it is in here?! Take apart all the chairs and make fires!"
This command stunned everyone around him. It took several seconds for them to understand.
"But..." Kyle held his sword, not knowing how to proceed. To chop up the church's chairs, what kind of sacrilege was that?
Cyren struck the chair with another axe blow, "The church was established for people, not people for the church."
As his words fell, no one around questioned him anymore. The bishop had taken action first himself, what more could be said? Just do it!
So they began working in twos and threes. The villagers still didn't dare to chop, but the companions who had trekked all the way with Cyren didn't have so many scruples. In minutes they had dismantled two or three chairs.
Although carpenter Sam couldn't stand up, he was expert in this sort of thing. He had Aldridge bring the chairs to his side, and by removing just a few nails he could completely dismantle a chair.
The church fell into an eerie silence, with only the continuous sounds of chairs being dismantled and occasional chicken crows.
During this time, Cyren quietly asked Joseph to find some paper and pens.
After dismantling the chairs, Cyren divided them into six bonfires, arranged in rows on both sides along the church's central axis.
While piling up the bonfires, a boy suddenly stood up and said, "Lord Bishop!"
His parent grabbed him and covered his mouth, but Cyren had already heard. He walked over, "What's wrong? Let him speak."
The farmer holding the boy could only release his hand.
Under Cyren's encouraging gaze, the boy said timidly in a small voice, "Lord Bishop, there's a lot of manure on the ground... Cow dung and horse dung burn very well for fires, but pig manure doesn't work so well..."
Cyren laughed and patted his head, "Thank you, I understand now."
He called out loudly, "Everyone, go collect cow dung and horse dung. If you don't recognize what animal it's from, ask the farmers nearby."
After doing all this, he squatted down again, looking at the boy gently, "You're very brave and very smart. What do you want to be in the future?"
The boy stared blankly at Cyren.
No one had ever asked him "what do you want to be when you grow up?" Farmers grew up to be farmers, nobles grew up to be nobles, hereditary and unchanging, that was all.
When Cyren asked him, he fell into confusion, as if he couldn't understand the meaning of these words combined together.
"What kind of person do you want to become in the future? What kind of work do you want to do?" Cyren repeated, asking in more detail.
The boy's face flushed red. Images flooded his mind of horse manure, cow dung, rye, pigs, eggs, autumn, but not a single "occupation" emerged.
His parent watched nervously from the side, wishing he could knock his son on the head. The surrounding people also craned their necks curiously to watch.
Finally, when the boy was about to suffocate, he looked at Cyren and said, "I... I want to be a priest."
Cyren smiled, and the people around also smiled.
But they weren't smiling about the same thing.
Cyren reached his hand behind his neck, then removed a pure gold collar stud.
It was a common accessory for Roman collars, responsible for fastening the crossed part of the white Roman collar at the back.
"I'm giving this to you. I hope one day you'll be able to use it." Cyren placed it in the boy's hand, then made the sign of the cross on his forehead.
The people fell silent.
Then Joseph hurried over from the side door, holding an ink bottle, quill pen, and a stack of paper.
Cyren took them, then walked up to a farmer and asked, "What's your name?"
"Sir... I'm called Niko..."
"Where are you from?"
"Sobek Village to the west..."
"Did you bring livestock? Show me."
"Yes, yes, one cow and two chickens, but one chicken died... here, sir."
Cyren quickly wrote on the paper, then said, "I understand. Go to the bonfire closest to the door, tie the cow to the pillar, and put the chickens with their feet tied next to it."
He rapidly wrote on the paper, "Niko, from Sobek, short brown hair, blue eyes, wearing gray shirt and black bib overalls, black cloth boots, has one cow and two chickens, one dead, cow is female, light yellow, notch below right ear, white hooves, straight back, chickens white, under the cow."
"But sir..." Niko couldn't understand what Cyren was writing, "What if my cow gets lost..."
"It's all been recorded." Cyren shook the paper in his hand, "This ensures your property won't be mistaken. The main door is guarded by my soldiers. No one will run away with your things. I swear in God's name."
"Like this..." Niko was still somewhat uneasy, but since the bishop had guaranteed it, he gritted his teeth and reluctantly released the cow's rope, walking to the bonfire's edge.
After recording three people, Cyren distributed the paper and pens to Matilda, Aldridge, and Joseph, "Write like I do. Any problems?"
"Lord Bishop is so meticulous!" Joseph was the first to cry out, slapping his forehead and shouting, "This way we can avoid many disputes!"
Cyren was too lazy to bother with this theatrical old man and looked at the other two.
Matilda raised her hand, "How do I capture the livestock's characteristics? I'm not very good at it."
Cyren nodded, "That's a good question. I'll find you some villagers to be assistants."
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