Chereads / Rise of Solaris' Angel / Chapter 16 - Morvingrad

Chapter 16 - Morvingrad

"Move your darn asses! His Excellency, Saint Bartholomew is coming so move the fuck outta here!!" shouted a few raging knights in their mighty steads as they paraded into the capital city of Asteia, Morvingrad. The city infront of them was in ruins and on its death bed with houses burnt, the gates torn to shreds and large holes in both the sturdy stone walls and the streets of city. As for the casualties, it was no different than Lexington only the scope was much larger.

Tens of thousands of dead bodies were lying on the ground, most of them civilians while many others had already been transported to the temporary 'graveyards' which were nothing more than open dumping ground with a little sprinkle of holy water to prevent an undead outbreak.

"The devastation caused by the conflict of the two cults have been massive. Seems like we've to increase the border security or else we will be facing more strenuous situation like these." Said Bartholomew to another middle-aged knight.

The knight was quite tall, like many other knights with his height nearing the 180s with a chiseled face, a sharp jawline and multiple scars on his face adorned his face. His bright emerald eyes glowed with intelligence and experience but in addition to that, there was a shadow of tiredness and fatigue behind that intelligence. His face, which was the only visible part of his body, was almost perfect with a light-brownish tanned skin and a light beard.

He wore a slightly different armor than the previous knights, Simon and Roland but from the looks of it, it looked like he was more of a lord than a knight. His armor was more sleek, silvery colored which fully covered every part of his body from base of his neck to his toe. As for his face and head, it was temporarily kept open but from the tight chainmail one can conclude that his face armor wasn't lacking in a single bit. A long red cape draped down from his shoulder giving him a mighty look.

"Children, Morgan, this fellow here is Her Imperial Majesty the Queen of Xerith, Ellaine's 3rd Legion Corps' Grand Marshall, Duke Ian. Please greet him properly."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Milord!" greeted Shirley and William as they both bowed down, a little nervous because from their small amount of knowledge they acquired from Bartholomew, Duke is someone equivalent to a King. But Morgan went a step further and kneeled down with both his right palm touching his left breast as he said in a solemn tone, "Its an honor to meet the Great Conqueror of the South, Your Highness."

"I thought everyone had forgotten about that. Haha!" Ian replied with a laugh as he indicated to Morgan to stand up before turning back towards Bartholomew. "Where's the Angel?"

"In the carriage behind us. Can't have him parade the whole city with us now, can we? Since, it doesn't seem like Morvingrad has been stabilized and safe. We can't risk the life of an Angel like this." Bartholomew said in a slight rebuking tone but Ian was used to it.

"Yes, yes. I can't lie about that fact. The city is not secured at all and there can be ambushes from cultists anywhere. Which leads me to question you, Your Excellency, why would you care so much for this single Angel. Angels rush to lick your ass when you call for them so I don't see any reason that you're trying to save this single Angel. Not to mention, all Angels and their legacies are immortal to begin with. There was no need to change your course for a single Angel." He said shaking his head but Bartholomew simply shook his head.

"You won't understand the significance of a single Angel. If an Angel is being born in the Plane of Existence one or the other apostles would go no matter how small or insignificant the Angel is to Heaven. And for that 'lick my ass' statement, I'm going to report you to the Queen."

"Haha!! But really, there is no real incentives, Your Excellency." Ian said with a laugh and to his even Bartholomew laughed a little. "Saints do not do things for incentives. Iscariot might smite you for good if you speak that word in his presence. Also, let me tell you something." Bartholomew turned towards Ian and said in a mysterious tone, "Not all Angels are same. Not all Angels are benevolent and merciful. Some are made for War and Destruction and Doom. And I'm just trying do what I'm supposed to do to prevent that. Of course, I can't guarantee that but I can help to change it."

"You believe that this child Angel will bring destruction, heh?" Ian said in a mildly mocking tone but the moment he said it, he realized what kind of mistakes he was making and shut him up. A power of an apostle of the Almighty One was devastating to say the least.

But Bartholomew didn't react angrily, instead a mysterious smile appeared on his face, "Let's get to the Church of Knowledge. We will do the healing process over there."

But Ian frowned again and asked, "Why the Church of Knowledge? Haven't the host god of the child Angel already been figured out?"

"Just follow what I say and you won't be blasted to oblivion for god's sake!"

"A-ah! Okay…"

The city of Morvingrad was divided into three sections like most other metropolis, an outer city, a middle city and an inner city with each section having their own laws and walls to separate themselves. The fighting and the massacre had been prolific in the outer city which is usually the residing place of the lower income groups. The middle city had been affected too but since the Adventure Guild of the Morvingrad branch was quite powerful along with the other kingdom barracks, there was a mediocre amount of damage.

The least damage was dealt to the inner city which was guarded by the Royal Guards and the other garrison forces of the kingdom. That place was slightly crowded due to the influx of survivors from the other two sections but when the convoy of Bartholomew came, the streets were crowded once again and the order that had been restored was broken momentarily.

"Your Excellency, please save my children! They are in the outer city!! Please help me!"

"Your Excellency, please! I beg you, please have mercy on us and save our brethren. Please help us!"

"Please help your own children, please, we beg you!"

"Help us!"

"Help!"

Cries and shouts of mercy and help rung out from one end of the street to the other and the sheer numbers of people had entirely blocked the road. Inside the carriage, Bartholomew clutched his cross and sat down, mumbling all the prayer he could think of.

But since the crowd was relentless and there was a possibility of a riot erupting in the heart of the city, Bartholomew was forced to come out and utter a few words to calm the crowd.

"My dear brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, children and elderlies, have faith in yourself and in the Lord, who looks over us all. Please cooperate with the soldiers and the knights of the kingdom and the 3rd Legion Corps of Xerith Monarchial State. Please do not make things difficult of the defending armies by making unjust demand instead, I request all the abled bodied men to help the soldiers to push back these vile creatures of underworld and reclaim what's ours.

Nothing good comes when sitting in a cluster like this, praying and waiting for your own slaughter. Stand up, men and women and do whatever you can to help these soldiers. I hope that my, Saint Bartholomew's an apostle of the Almighty One, words resonate in your hearts." He said before entering back into the carriage which had a new addition, Ian.

Ian smiled at him and said, "That's quite a deviation from the usual path, Your Excellency. Normally priests would ask their followers to blindly pray to their gods if they were in such a state."

Bartholomew sighed a little and looked absentmindedly infront of him for a minute or so before turning to Ian. He smiled wryly and replied, "First of all, I'm not a priest and second of all, this isn't the dark ages anymore. Whichever priest and their followers go by the logic that praying will save them is already dead or in such a remote unknown area that not even the devils are bothered about them. Now, lets rush to the Church of Knowledge."

"Ah! Yes, yes."

After the crowd calmed down and made way for the convoy to pass, their journey didn't take much time. The inner city was, after all, quite small compared to the other sections.

The Church of Knowledge was located in the western part of the inner city, located very near to the inner-city western gate but it had been closed indefinitely in the fear of an assault. The church seemed to be the center of attraction of the western part and was quite eye-catchy compared to the other buildings.

It looked like any other churches but it was more massive with large cylindrical towers rising at every corners of the rectangular area of the church. These towers were connected to each other and to the main building through many open-air spiraling staircases.

The five of them left their carriage infront of the church entrance and found the Bishop of the Church was waiting for them right infront of the entrance which his entourage.

"A very good morning to you, Your Excellency." The Bishop said calmly and bowed down a little. The man was in his fifties but unlike bishops of other church, he wore a dark-colored gown with no Bishop's crown. He also carried two thick books under each of his arms and a large gold spectacle rested on his nose bridge. Even his expression which looked like calm from the first glance changed to a more… irritated expression after one looks carefully. It was the same case for the other priests in his entourage for many of them looked haggard and sleep-deprived and straight-up skeletons.

Bartholomew smiled "Good day to you, Bishop Mathews. Is everything ready?"

Mathews nodded his head calmly and replied, "Everything is ready, Your Excellency. We readied everything right when we received the revelation."

"Very well," Bartholomew nodded and proceeded into the church with everyone else.

In the meantime, Williams came close to Bartholomew and whispered quietly, "Hey grandpa Bart, why is the Bishop of this church so weird. Usually, bishops wear bright colored dresses and their priests have a haughty looks on their faces. But these guys look … so devoted. This is weird on a whole different level."

"Haha!" Bartholomew gave a small laugh and so did many other knights who were accompanying them. "Anyway, these people are the priests of the Church of Knowledge. They are unlike your regular priests. Their usual duties aren't praying or performing rituals like most other priests, in fact they are tasked to keep a record of everything that happens in this world. Every important dates, births, events and disasters are all written down in their books. It is their responsibility to keep a record of everything that humanity does and to pass the vast amount of knowledge we humans collect every day to the future generations.

As a matter of fact, their god isn't even a god."

"What?! Who is it?"

"Metatron, the Scribe of the Almighty One and the Pantheon. He was tasked by the Almighty One and many of the Greater Gods to keep a track of every discoveries the humans and other creatures make in their endeavor and to preserve it. That's the job of the Scribe of the Almighty One." He said with a little respect.

"And that's why they have such peculiar tastes." William deduced, nodding his head like a little detective. But to his surprise, none of the priests were at all offended by his talks. The explanation was the same, they must be too engrossed in their studies that they don't care to care about a little kid's talks and this gave rise to some dastardly ideas in William's head but before they could grow into a micrometer size, Bart dropped cold water on it.

"You're quite intelligent and cunning for your age but don't you dare go disturbing these priests, child. They are good when they are happy, when they are mad, they rain hell on everyone."

"O-ohh…" William replied deflated but little did Bartholomew knew that the seed of mischief had already sprouted in the lil' William's heart and he would grow up to become one of the most hated and wanted person of the Church of Knowledge.

"By the way, have I told you that my brother hates books. He might get a stroke if he wakes up in a building which looks like a library."

"Ugh! Has anyone ever told you talk too much bogus? As for whether or not he likes books, why don't we let him decide on that fact when he regains consciousness. I doubt both of you have ever seen what a book is."

"Hey! That's rude! I can testify that we've indeed seen a book. It was the fabulous book of Spellbee."

"Really, can you tell me the spelling of ridiculous?"

"Ri-di-ku-lus"

"…"

"After curing your brother, I think we need to have a language class."

"What? Why? I was correct, I know it!"

"…"

….