After inspecting the church, Cyren left through the small door, crossed the withered garden full of accumulated snow, and arrived at his two-story house.
"You all go upstairs to rest. Clean up. You'll live on the second floor." Cyren said to the seven knights, "Joseph, take to the kitchen."
"Wait a mont, Lord Bishop..." Kyle anxiously stepped forward, "The second floor is the master bedroom. We..."
Cyren waved his hand, "The second floor is too cold. You living up there will help block it for . Plus, if I'm in danger, you can rescue in ti. If you feel the decoration is too luxurious, move two sets of beds and bedding downstairs. I'll live in the music hall."
The knights reluctantly accepted this explanation and went upstairs to organize their things.
Joseph saw they had all left and said quietly in Cyren's ear, "Lord Bishop, don't be too good to subordinates. Comfortable life will nourish their ambition. Full als of at will strengthen their violence. Desire will never have a day of satisfaction. If they live too good a life, they'll covet your things."
Cyren looked at Joseph with a half-smile, making the latter tremble. The fat on his face shook with an oily gleam.
"Joseph, I ca from the countryside."
"Yes, Lord Bishop." He kept wiping his sweat.
"Do you know how to raise sheep?"
"I don't know, Lord Bishop. Please teach ..."
Cyren narrowed his eyes. While walking toward the kitchen he said, "We plant the finest pasture grass, lead the flock to rotate grazing. In the cold winter, we use turnips, bean cakes and such to relieve pregnant ewes and weak lambs. During lambing ti, we need to guard day and night, help ewes with difficult births, ensure lambs can drink colostrum at the first mont, and provide extra care for weak lambs."
"You're truly so diligent!" Joseph wiped sweat and flattered.
"Not only that, we also provide dicinal baths for the flock to expel lice and ticks, and regularly trim their hooves to prevent foot rot. We also record breeding, lambing, weight gain and diseases, making a thick ledger."
"That's truly very arduous work..."
"So, Joseph, there's one thing I've never understood."
Joseph swallowed.
"Sheep are really too troubleso. I wonder if there could be such livestock: eats little, lives poorly, can treat itself when sick, can proactively create wealth for , can work, high efficiency, rest little or not at all, gentle temperant."
"Lord Bishop..."
At so point, Cyren's expression had turned cold. He looked at him silently, "Could it be that because you're God's shepherd, you truly treat your compatriots as sheep? Even sheep require painstaking effort to keep them well-fed and happy. Why can't the sa be done for people?"
Joseph suddenly knelt down, weeping bitterly and shouting, "I was wrong! Lord Bishop! I was wrong! Please forgive !"
Cyren saw him like this and truly didn't know if it was genuine emotion or performance, though it was probably the latter.
"Get up. What kind of appearance is this? From now on, no more kneeling." He pulled Joseph up, even bent down to pat the dust off his black robe, which nearly made Joseph jump.
"Lord Bishop! Although I will absolutely obey your orders and will never kneel again, my reverence for you is unwavering. Even just standing beside you, I prostrate under your radiance. Your orders are the divine revelation I hear..." He said excitedly with a red face, but Cyren was just rummaging through cabinets in the basent kitchen, then handed Joseph a potato.
"Uh... what do you an by this?"
"Go help get a few potatoes, and get so simple at, also tomatoes and peas. Damn, this kitchen is completely empty." Cyren pulled out a pot. His left hand held the potato, his right hand held the pot, and his mouth held a tin-plated steel spatula.
"You... you're going to cook personally?"
"Is there a problem? Go quickly. Didn't you just ntion divine revelation? Is this the speed you execute divine revelation?" Cyren glared at him, "While you're at it, go call Matilda, Aldridge, and Sam, then wait in the dining room to eat."
Joseph tumbled out of the kitchen. The instant he turned around, that fat face excited and flushed with red instantly cald down.
He indeed wore a mask, forged through years of struggling in the Church's power structure.
"Rural background... I'm the sa..." He murmured. Bishop Cyren ca from a shepherd background. He ca from a farr background. He didn't have a good appearance, nor outstanding talent. After the enclosure movent, he lost his only property. He painstakingly beca a Church doorkeeper, responsible for watching the gate.
Humiliation, tornt, misunderstanding, pain, abuse... How much suffering must an illiterate farr who never attended theological seminary and couldn't read scripture endure to beco a priest?
Life taught him only one rule. Under others' violent oppression, he learned to be obsequious and opportunistic, learned to obey and be a dog.
"Bishop Delante..." He took a deep breath, "You're a good person, but you should have t a few years earlier, not at this ti... I climbed to this position, not to dedicate myself..."
He pushed open the door. The priest's black robe fluttered loudly in the fierce cold wind, then he walked resolutely into the wind and snow.
…
Soon, seven people sat down in the dining room: Matilda, Sam, Aldridge, Joseph, Logan, Kyle, and the newly joined squad leader Fafnir.
They sat uneasily beside the embroidered tablecloth. Joseph silently lit the candelabra.
Below in the kitchen, the Bishop was enthusiastically cooking, but that was generally a cook's work, belonging to servants' labor.
Any cultured, distinguished man wouldn't work before a stove, because that smoke would blacken their snow-white cuffs, heat would soften their stiff collars, kitchen slls would make the perfu on them coarse and unpleasant.
But this was the Bishop's order, so they could only wait there. Anyone attempting to stop him was driven out.
Matilda swore this was the first ti she'd been driven out of a kitchen, did people actually fight to get into such places?
Seven people sat properly at the table, counting the petals on the tablecloth, over and over. Their toes were about to break through the floor.
Only Matilda was relatively casual. Perhaps because she was the only person here equal in rank to the Bishop. Her eyes swept over the wine on the wine rack, rolling around.
Twenty minutes later, Cyren rang the kitchen pull bell. Except for Sam who was missing a leg, all seven people rushed into the narrow kitchen, competing to carry plates.
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