Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude Translations

The faith in the God of Light, widespread among human nations, has varying requirements for its clergy depending on the region and denomination. However, there are a few universal rules, such as high-ranking clerics not marrying, abstaining from alcohol on non-major holidays, and maintaining a simple and modest material life.

Of course, this is just the official stance. In reality, apart from the former head of the North Shore Monastery and the current Archbishop of the Northwest, Anderson, Paul had never seen a high-ranking cleric who lived modestly.

But to casually place a bottle of wine on the table in front of a stranger was a bit too…

“Fermented grape juice… Yes, fermented grape juice, haha.”

Vaolette felt that the lord was giving him an out, and he had no choice but to take it.

“Count, please take a seat, and the beautiful Miss Sertia, please sit as well.”

Seeing how eagerly Vaolette was hosting them, Paul couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly. If Vaolette knew that the beautiful lady in front of him was a witch, he wondered how he would react. It would certainly be an interesting scene.

“Have you been to Center City recently?”

“Oh, I just visited Lord Anderson there last week.”

“How is the old gentleman’s health lately?”

A sorrowful expression appeared on Vaolette’s face. “It’s worrisome. Ever since he was imprisoned by the cursed Marltz Kent, Archbishop Anderson’s health has been declining over the past few years.”

Paul shook his head, “That’s really sad.”

“Yes, very sad.”

After a moment of lamentation, Vaolette suddenly showed a hint of joy, “Fortunately, we have people like Woz and others to assist, ensuring the smooth operation of church affairs.”

Woz? Paul’s heart sank. According to the information he had, this was a thoroughly corrupt individual.

Poor Anderson, he wondered what kind of tragic situation he had fallen into.

Well, his own reach wasn’t that long anyway.

“What do you think of Archbishop Anderson?”

Upon hearing Paul’s question, Vaolette hesitated and then cautiously said, “Archbishop Anderson devoutly serves the Heavenly Father and is proficient in the essential doctrines of the Holy Scriptures. He is naturally a very good man.”

Paul asked further, “Recently, someone suggested to me that to advance medical science and better serve humanity, doctors should be allowed to dissect corpses. What do you think? What would our Archbishop’s stance be if he knew about this?”

“My God, that’s outright blasphemy!”

Vaolette stood up from his seat in shock.

“Hmm?” Paul raised his eyebrows.

“Ah, I mean, this… this… it’s against tradition and doctrine. Lord, is it that madman, Doctor Wald from our city? He and his student, Susan, always advocate some shocking and heretical ideas.”

Despite his dislike for them, Vaolette couldn’t do much about these two, as Susan’s grandfather, Old Peter, was an official in the city hall.

He guessed that the lord might be in favor of this proposal.

Indeed, Paul said, “There is no unchanging tradition in the world, don’t you think? As for doctrine, I recall that the Holy Scriptures do not forbid drinking alcohol on regular days, yet somehow, this rule emerged within the church. It seems to change over time too.”

Hearing the lord tease him about this matter again, Vaolette’s face showed a trace of embarrassment. At the same time, he thought to himself, yes, the Holy Scriptures are just a book governing the conduct of believers. Its few hundred pages of content never covered so much ground. Who in later generations added so many rules and restrictions, especially for the clergy, dictating every aspect of their lives?

“But, if you were to ask Archbishop Anderson, he would surely oppose it,” Vaolette said, placing his hand near his mouth and leaning forward in a secretive manner, whispering, “Lord Count, let me tell you, not only is Archbishop Anderson strict with himself, but he’s also strict with others. He rigorously enforces all church rules. Everyone had a hard time when he first took office.”

Vaolette didn’t mention his relief that Anderson had been sick lately.

“This isn’t slander, everyone privately thinks so. In short, with his personality, he would definitely strongly oppose the desecration of corpses.”

Paul expected the conservative Archbishop to oppose, but Vaolette’s attitude surprised him. It seemed that clerics like Vaolette opposed things like corpse dissection out of habit, not principle, and were not particularly “steadfast” in their beliefs.

John Morrison, the deputy head of the North Shore Monastery, was similar. They seemed to be in the Church not so much for faith but as a profession.

Oh, and the actual head of the North Shore Monastery, a disciple of Anderson, who left most of the monastery’s affairs to his deputy and spent his days absorbed in studying plants. Recently, under Paul’s guidance, he had started growing peas to explore the patterns of trait variations across generations. A theologian by title, he was doing the work of a biologist, much like another famous priest from a different world.

Paul wondered what proportion of the “enlightened” clergy like them constituted in the Northwestern Church.

“Vaolette…”

Before Paul could say anything, someone burst in from outside. It was the same deacon from earlier.

He glanced at Paul awkwardly, bowed apologetically, then turned to Vaolette, “Sir, Hersch is here again.”

Vaolette looked displeased, “That bumpkin again? Send him away quickly, can’t you see I’m entertaining a distinguished guest?”

As he spoke, sounds of scuffling and shouting “I must see Lord Vaolette today!” came from outside.

In front of Paul, Vaolette’s face turned red with embarrassment.

Paul smiled, “Vaolette, let him in for a meeting.”

“You don’t understand, Lord…”

Before Vaolette could react, the person outside barged in.

“This is so rude! Utterly disrespectful!”

Vaolette was furious, pointing at the intruder, “Hersch, you barged in without my permission, disturbing my guest. Look at yourself, do you have any semblance of the demeanor expected of a clergyman?”

Paul looked at the newcomer, seeing a burly man with well-trimmed facial hair but coarse skin and large knuckles, suggesting a life of hard labor. He wore a clean priest’s robe, albeit patched up, indicating his clerical status. Compared to Vaolette beside him, he looked more like a country farmer than a priest.