TL: Etude Translations
Paul spent the morning visiting a textile mill. At noon, he declined the mill owner’s invitation to stay longer and returned to the city hall with Ladi, while Seviya excused herself to return to her alchemy shop alone.
On their way, Paul asked Ladi, “Tell me, did you really spend the whole night investigating that shop?”
Ladi nodded and replied, “Yes, otherwise I wouldn’t have dared to let you enter.”
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“It’s what I should do. However, Lord Grayman, I must remind you to be cautious of the church’s threat and be fully prepared for them to discover that you’re harboring a spellcaster.”
“Of course, I’m aware of that. But you can rest assured. According to the traditions of our Northwest Bay, a person identified as a wizard is only imprisoned if they haven’t committed any actual harm to society. We don’t resort to burning at the stake on a whim.”
Inwardly, Ladi worried even more for Paul.
Since the establishment of the customs union, Paul had gradually become a leading figure among the lords of the Northwest Bay. Should he be discovered engaging in any dishonorable acts, it would surely impact his position.
“Our first meeting was in a church in Port Fran, wasn’t it? You even cast a suggestion on me then, haha.”
Paul’s face lit up with reminiscence. The church he referred to had been in the town center and was now converted into the city hall. The church they were approaching was built shortly afterward.
Ladi smiled, marveling at how a seemingly ordinary adventure years ago had become a significant turning point in her life.
Paul pointed at the building ahead. “I’ve never been inside this church. Shall we take a look?”
“Of course, Lord Grayman.”
Together with their entourage, they ascended the steps and entered the church.
“It’s quite magnificent,” Paul remarked.
The church’s interior was dominated by golden hues. The imposing dome hung overhead, and the walls were adorned with exquisite murals. Statues embellished the corridors on either side.
A massive stone sculpture of a flame, symbolizing the Lord of Light, stood in the west of the hall. A group of people knelt around it, murmuring prayers, seemingly in devout worship.
The sound of chanting and hymns echoed throughout the hall, exuding a sense of sanctity.
Compared to the old church from years ago, which was rather modest, this new church reflected the growing prosperity of the Northwest Bay, evidently benefiting the church as well. Get full chapters from novelꜰire.net
A clergyman nearby noticed Paul’s group wandering the church without praying or donating, and felt slightly displeased.
Recognizing Paul as the leader, he approached him with a quick stride and a smile. “Sir, may I ask your purpose for visiting the church? Please refrain from disturbing others’ activities.”
“Who is in charge here?”
Hearing Paul’s inquiry, the deacon grew more displeased, sensing a condescending tone in his voice.
“Oh? It’s still him. I’d like to see Father Vaolette.”
Paul remembered the priest’s face from his previous visit to Port Fran. He didn’t reveal his identity as a lord, as the deacon didn’t recognize him, and didn’t ask the deacon to call Vaolette directly.
“May I have your name?”
“I know him. Just tell him an old acquaintance from Lakeheart Town wishes to see him. He’ll know who it is by my description.”
“Very well, please wait here.”
Although the deacon found it odd that the visitor refused to reveal his name, he assumed from the calm demeanor that the person must have a close relationship with Father Vaolette. With this thought, he hurriedly went to the back of the hall.
Father Vaolette, in his forties, came from a noble family in the Northwest Bay. When he was assigned to Port Fran three years ago, he initially thought he was being marginalized, as Alda was then the most backward territory in the Northwest Bay.
However, to his surprise, the region underwent a remarkable transformation in just a few years. His position became an enviable one among his peers.
“This must be the Lord of Light’s reward for my years of diligent service,” he mused to himself in his office that day.
Recently, though, he had heard rumors about a plot to transfer him away from Port Fran. He was indignant at the thought of losing the glory bestowed upon him by the Heavenly Father, seeing it as the wicked envy of petty people.
But he was confident that a little lobbying with Bishop Woz, who was in charge of personnel in the diocese, would secure his position.
“What is it?” Vaolette was interrupted from his thoughts by a hurried deacon, slightly annoyed at the disturbance.
“Sir, there’s someone outside claiming to be an old acquaintance of yours from Lakeheart Town wishing to see you.”
“An acquaintance from Lakeheart Town? What’s their name?”
The deacon shook his head, “They didn’t wish to say.”
“How impolite,” Vaolette muttered, stroking his chin in thought. “Could it be someone I have a dispute with? I don’t recall any such person in Lakeheart Town… Wait, how old is this person? What do they look like?”
“A young man, looks about seventeen or eighteen, with black hair…”
“Lord have mercy!” Vaolette sprang from his chair and dashed outside, leaving the deacon bewildered.
Paul was standing by the wall, listening to a female advisor critique a mural, nodding along as if he understood the art, when he saw a portly middle-aged priest jogging towards him.
“Lord… Lord… you’re here.”
Vaolette stopped himself from saying Paul’s full name, realizing that Paul might not want his identity revealed since he didn’t tell the deacon his name.
“It’s been a long time, Father Vaolette,” Paul greeted him, stopping his bow.
“Haha, indeed it has been. Do you have any important matters to discuss in visiting my church today, Lord?”
“Nothing particularly important. I just happened to be passing by and remembered I hadn’t visited this new church yet, so I thought I’d stop by. When I inquired, I found out you’re still working here, so I thought I’d pay a visit.”
“A visit? I’m honored. Lord, let me be your guide and show you around.”
“No need, I’ve already looked around the main hall. Let’s have a chat. I’d like to know about some recent matters in the Northwest Diocese. Do you have a place for that?”
“Yes, please come to my office in the back hall.”
Guided by Vaolette, Paul and his entourage entered a very luxurious room, which appeared to be his office.
Observing the décor, Paul felt a twinge of envy. “Wow, this man, though a clergyman, sure knows how to enjoy life. His office is even nicer than mine as a lord.”
Hmm? What’s that red bottle?
Paul’s sharp eyes caught something that seemed out of place.
Vaolette noticed Paul staring at an object on his desk and panicked, hastily putting it away.
“Ah, ah, ah? Lord, that is… that is…”
Seeing the priest’s flustered reaction, Paul couldn’t help but chuckle, a teasing expression on his face.
He tilted his head slightly and asked with a smile, “Fermented grape juice?”