Chapter 420: Questions and Answers

Regain the Holy Light?

Amber’s words came out abruptly and without context. When Gawain pressed her for more details, she admitted she didn’t know much—only that Light had just returned to the territory and was now back at the chapel.

“Keep an eye on the construction site,” Gawain quickly instructed Rebecca, then grabbed Amber, who was trying to slip away. “You’re coming with me to see Light.”

“Hey, hey, don’t pull me like that… You know I’m a Night’s Chosen, right? I’m the Night’s Chosen… and being inside the Holy Light Church feels so awkward…” Amber’s faint protest quickly faded as Gawain tucked the short, stocky girl under his arm and strode toward the chapel. Before long, they arrived at the small church Light had personally built.

The chapel was closed, but the door wasn’t locked. A single white death chrysanthemum was quietly wedged in the crack of the slightly ajar door.

Gawain glanced at the flower, then gently pushed the door open.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure stood at the pulpit, back to the entrance. He wore a battered Cecil mage-warrior armor, scarred and worn. Sunlight streamed through a side window, casting a soft, hazy glow over his shoulders.

Within that faint, shimmering light, Gawain thought he saw something flicker and vanish. But when he focused, all he saw were motes of dust dancing in the sunbeams.

Gawain approached Light. The echo of his footsteps filled the empty chapel. The figure at the pulpit shifted slightly and turned around. Upon seeing Gawain, Light bowed respectfully. “My lord, I was just about to report to you…”

“That’s alright. I came to see you anyway,” Gawain waved him off, then noticed a shocking scar on Light’s face—a deep wound running from his left temple down to his cheek. It looked like it could have cost him an eye. The wound had healed but left a deep scar. “Looks like you’ve been through a lot.”

“I… have regained the Holy Light,” Light lowered his head and opened his palm. A clear, tangible glow almost immediately materialized, flowing and gathering above his hand. The light seemed to draw the sacred energy from the air, enveloping him in a soft halo. “I never felt… such a close bond with the Holy Light before. It turns out it’s always been with me, with every one of us—like the magic in nature itself…”

Gawain watched quietly as the light shimmered on Light’s palm and slowly faded. Then, curious, he asked, “How did you do it?”

“I… don’t know all the reasons behind it, but maybe I found the true path of the Holy Light,” Light’s voice wavered at first, then grew firm. “My lord, do you remember the question you once asked me?”

Gawain felt a stir in his heart. “About your faith?”

“Yes. You asked whether I worship the Holy Light itself, or the god of the Holy Light,” Light said, turning to look quietly at the empty space behind the pulpit—where the statue of the Holy Light god used to stand. Now, it was gone. “I think I understand what you meant now…”

The vanished statue, the regained Holy Light, and the subtle change in Light’s demeanor all gave Gawain a rough idea of what had happened. But he didn’t know how such a remarkable transformation occurred—how a devout believer suddenly broke through the spiritual seal of his faith.

He couldn’t help but ask. Light fell silent for a long moment before quietly speaking: “My lord, do you know what happened to the defeated nobles and clerics after their rout?”

“I can guess,” Gawain said grimly.

“We passed through a village near the Konsko region… it was completely destroyed,” Light said calmly, though Gawain sensed the faint Holy Light power flickering beside him as he spoke. “There were a dozen survivors. We stayed there overnight…”

From Light’s account, Gawain and Amber learned what had happened that night in the Konsko territory—the starving, desperate noble deserters and church knights, the little girl named Emily, and the entire process of Light’s regaining the Holy Light.

Amber, usually carefree and cheerful, couldn’t help but show a trace of regret and sorrow. She frowned, glanced at Gawain’s darkened expression, then at Light, and finally muttered, “Those damn nobles… and those fanatics…”

She quickly patted Gawain’s arm. “I’m not talking about you, Gawain—you’re different from them.”

“I know, no need to emphasize,” Gawain said with a wry smile, then looked at Light. “Even though you’ve regained the Holy Light, you must still have doubts… Otherwise, you wouldn’t be standing here thinking so long instead of reporting.”

“I’m just pondering some things… maybe things I shouldn’t be thinking about,” Light frowned and sighed softly. Then, looking Gawain in the eye, he asked with unusual resolve, “My lord, I have a question.”

“Ask.”

“Those nobles, the clerics, the knights—they claimed to be protectors of the people, but in the end, they acted worse than bandits. They deserved to die. We killed hundreds, maybe thousands, of nobles and clergy in this war. But… what caused them to become like this? Hundreds of years ago, even decades ago, they weren’t this corrupt… We’ve wiped them out today, but decades or centuries from now, won’t those who come after us fall into the same decay?”

Amber stared at Light in disbelief. She hadn’t expected him to ask such a question. In her mind, Light was just a devoted preacher, always helping people in the territory. She never imagined he would suddenly raise such a profound doubt—one that almost questioned the meaning of everything Gawain had done.

And that question…

Amber glanced at Gawain, recalling his plans—the policies for dealing with the old nobles, the future laws of the territory. She couldn’t help but ask, “Yeah, you once said that greed is part of human nature. Even the orderly, honest administration we have now will eventually breed corruption as the territory grows richer. So if that’s the case…”

Gawain looked at Amber and Light. He wasn’t surprised by Light’s question.

Changing or establishing a new ideology isn’t done overnight. Even with new education and ideas being promoted, very few in his closest circle fully understood his vision. After witnessing the battlefield and the decay of the old nobles and church firsthand, it was only natural for Light to have such doubts.

This wasn’t about personal insight or intelligence—it was simply the limitation of the times.

He asked the newly enlightened priest, “Light, what kind of group do you think the ‘nobles’ are?”

“Nobles…” Light frowned. “They are the owners and rulers of the land and people. At least nominally, they are also the protectors of all this… Their power is vast. This kingdom basically runs on them.”

“Do you think nobles are good or bad?”

Amber answered immediately, “Bad—Light has seen it with his own eyes.”

“I’m a noble too,” Gawain said with a half-smile, “and so is Viscount Grant, who freed the slaves Ilaven years ago, now Viscountess Grant, and Andrew Leslie, the Viscount preparing to swear allegiance under Cecil’s law. They’re all nobles.”

“Uh…” Amber was momentarily speechless, scratching her head. “So there are good ones and bad ones.”

“Yes, there are good nobles. But why has the entire noble class become so corrupt and degenerate?”

Amber and Light exchanged looks, unsure what Gawain was really getting at.

Fortunately, Gawain didn’t leave them hanging. He had long wanted to share these thoughts, and now was the right moment. He took a breath and spoke:

“Nobles—or more precisely, the landowning nobles under the current Ansu system—are the absolute owners of land and people, as well as the makers and enforcers of power. From their inception, their nature determined their way of survival—they possess nearly all resources and have absolute authority over their use. Commoners are merely renters of their resources, or even part of those resources themselves. Nobles don’t produce; they don’t need to. They simply parasitize the land and people, drawing nourishment from them…

“So, naturally, they don’t truly care about the lives or rights of commoners. And since their resources come from the land, they care more about their land than the people. Even when they appear to care for the people, it’s like someone cherishing the coins in their pocket—they protect their money, but if the price is right, they’ll spend those coins without hesitation.

“They claim to be protectors of the people, and that’s true. In the wild frontier days, humanity had limited resources to support limited protectors. For survival, we had to concentrate resources in a few strong individuals to safeguard the whole. These strong individuals were the original landowning nobles. At least then, their existence ensured civilization’s survival and growth. But what about after that era?

“No one can control the landowning nobles because they are both owners and distributors of resources, lawmakers and enforcers. They inevitably become an uncontrollable, corrupt, and degenerate group. Even setting morality aside, their ‘corruption’ isn’t really corruption—it’s just a natural growth in a nutrient-rich environment, like a plant growing in fertile soil.

“In this situation, landowning nobles will never—remember, never—voluntarily give up their resources and privileges, just as a plant won’t pull its roots from the soil. Even if a few ‘good’ nobles appear, they won’t change the nature of the whole class, because the group’s essence and survival method remain unchanged. As long as they hold land, enjoy privileges, and control resources, they will inevitably parasitize the land and people, feeding off them to survive. Their so-called role as ‘protectors of the people’ will vanish once all nobles have distributed resources and formed a relatively stable ruling structure. Think about those grand ‘noble wars’—did they really take up arms to protect the people?”

“And this concept extends further: the current Holy Light Church and the landed nobility operate on the same principle. The landed nobles control land as their resource, while the Church controls faith and divine magic. The nobles’ privilege lies in the law; the Church’s privilege lies in the authority to interpret scripture.”

Gawain paused for a moment, glancing at Leight and Amber, who were deep in thought. Then he continued, “So, let’s return to the beginning—why have the nobles become so corrupt and degenerate? The answer is—they inevitably will. It doesn’t matter that a few enlightened lords have appeared among the landed nobility, nor does it matter how glorious or great they once were. This is simply an inherent trait of their class. Therefore—Leight, I can say with certainty that in this war, we may wipe out hundreds or even thousands of nobles and knights, but as long as the ‘landed nobility’ as a class exists, even if we kill off this generation, new landed nobles will inevitably arise—perhaps even from our own descendants.”

“So from the very start, this war has never been just about destroying the bodies of those nobles. It’s about destroying their foundation. We are not fighting to eliminate the forty-plus feudal lords of the southern territories just to seize their lands and wealth. We are fighting to dismantle the entire class of ‘landed nobility,’ to return land and freedom to the people. We fight so that no village will ever again be burned to the ground by its own lord, so that no one else will suffer the fate of Emily.”

“Leight, if you’re interested, you can take a look at the latest land redistribution laws I’ve enacted, as well as the ongoing campaigns in schools, newspapers, and public notices explaining land rights and the rights of the people. Perhaps then you’ll understand why when Count Hosman called for war against Cecil, he leveled eighteen charges against me—Ilaven of which were directly related to those laws and the propaganda in the territories. Because those are the real threats to them—threats that could even doom their descendants. On this point, they are perfectly clear.”

“But as long as these reforms continue to spread, take root, and establish a stable social order, then we can proudly say that we have destroyed the ‘landed nobility’ as a whole—not just their bodies, but their foundation. From now on, even if the word ‘noble’ still exists, even if some remnants remain, their roots will have been completely eradicated.”

(End of chapter)