Chapter 419: Chapter 419

The Church of Knowledge and Books had an administrative structure that, while streamlined, struck Jenkins as incredibly complex. The supreme leader in charge of secular affairs was, of course, Pontiff IV, but Jenkins was hazy on the hierarchy beneath him.

He was, however, quite familiar with the two chains of command for its Benefactors.

The man sent to greet him at the train station was, to his surprise, a cardinal. He didn't offer his full name, simply asking Jenkins to call him Bishop Strickland.

Their conversation in the carriage was so congenial that when they reached their destination, the old man seemed reluctant to part, eager to chat a while longer.

The Holy See was a sprawling complex of temples and sacred buildings. Carriages were, of course, forbidden from entering; even a cardinal and the Saint Son were required to proceed on foot.

This was his first time here. Although he considered it merely a temporary stay, his arrival had sent the entire Church into a flurry of activity. It was a momentous occasion—in Bishop Strickland's eyes, Jenkins's "lodging" here was second in importance only to the time the Legacy Sage herself had "lodged" among mortals.

The official pretext for all the commotion was an early rehearsal for the New Year's festivities, and the entire complex twinkled with scattered lights. Travel-worn in his old black overcoat, Jenkins stood at the start of a red carpet, suitcase in one hand, cat in the other, cane tucked under his arm, and hat upon his head. When he turned, he saw Bishop Strickland hadn't followed, but was standing off to the side, smiling and waving at him.

Jenkins instinctively ducked, but the noise was only fireworks. Both sides of the red carpet were lined with Benefactors in immaculate church robes. Many were even using their abilities to generate shimmering lights and dancing shadows, adding to the grandeur of the occasion.

"Gods above, it's two in the morning,"

he groaned inwardly, plastering on what Papa Oliver called a "professional smile" as he stepped onto the red carpet.

Ultimately, taking his travel fatigue into account, the welcoming ceremony lasted only half an hour.

He was given lodgings in a separate palace nearest the Grand Temple—the central cathedral. It was a true palace; the bedroom alone was the size of five living rooms from his family's home.

He couldn't fathom the purpose of such a vast bedroom. Lying on the bed, he had the distinct feeling of being in the middle of an indoor soccer field.

He slept soundly and woke at eight o'clock on Wednesday morning. The awards ceremony was scheduled for Thursday afternoon, after which Jenkins was required to have dinner with the royal family.

Upon waking, he stared at the unfamiliar ceiling for a long moment, recalling his plans for the day. He reached out beside his pillow, but his hand met empty sheets instead of his cat.

He scrambled out of bed, only to find a small pet bed at the side, perfectly sized for his cat. The kitten, Chocolate, was curled up inside, looking like a little black and white furball.

"It seems they knew I was bringing a cat and prepared for him in advance..."

The bedroom's decor seemed simple at first glance, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the gas lamp on the wall, shaped like an angel holding a torch, was probably worth more than his entire house.

He dressed slowly, pondering who he should see first and where he needed to go today. He was adjusting the collar of his shirt in front of a full-length mirror when a soft knock came at the door.

He called over his shoulder. The right panel of the great golden door swung open slowly, and a young nun with braided hair, looking no older than her mid-teens, poked her head inside. Her eyes met Jenkins's, and her cheeks instantly flushed.

"S-Saint... Mr. Williams, would you like breakfast now?"

"Yes, thank you," Jenkins replied with a polite nod. "And could you tell me when His Holiness Pontiff IV will see me?"

In terms of religious status, Jenkins was superior to the mortal pontiff, so he didn't strictly need to use such honorifics. Papa Oliver had drilled that point into him repeatedly.

"His Holiness Pontiff IV said you may see him at any time this morning."

The young nun added in a near-whisper, "There are sweet pastries for breakfast today. If you're not quick, the... the greedy children might eat them all..."

Her voice trailed off until she was barely audible. She then ducked her head back behind the door, and he heard the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hall.

"So, sugar is expensive in the capital, too..."

He always had a knack for missing the point.

At least Chocolate was satisfied with breakfast. The cat's standards for food were somehow even higher than those of Jenkins, who came from a far more advanced world.

Perhaps it was to aid its digestion after a large meal, but as Jenkins was about to enter the central temple, the cat suddenly shuddered, leaped from his shoulder, and refused to go any farther.

"Come on, we're going to be late!"

He crouched and beckoned to his cat, but Chocolate merely peeked out from behind a white marble pillar, gave him a single glance, then turned and scampered back toward their palace.

Given Chocolate's considerable intelligence, Jenkins wasn't worried about his cat getting lost. He simply asked the nun guiding him to keep an eye on him, lest he get into trouble and chew on something. While Jenkins had a few gold pounds to his name and a large inheritance from Augustus on the way, every single item here was likely worth a fortune. A 5,000-pound cat would be hard to replace.

He stood up and watched Chocolate disappear into the distance. Then, he straightened his clothes, had the nun beside him adjust his collar one last time, and stepped through the doors of the cathedral with a suitably solemn expression.

Many years later, Jenkins would still remember that sunny morning. Pontiff IV received him in an unassuming office. He was a thin, wiry old gentleman, and since this was not a formal occasion, he wore no extravagant adornments. Follow current novᴇls on novel★fire.net

The two of them didn't even touch upon religious matters. Instead, under the Pontiff's gentle guidance, their conversation drifted to topics of art and the current era.

The old man had a profound understanding of steam machinery and had even coined the term "Industrial Revolution" himself. This was undoubtedly a capable leader, one who saw things that many others missed.

Together, they toured the central temple, prayed beneath a giant holy symbol that radiated a potent spiritual aura, discussed literature in the temple library, and even observed a blessing ceremony for newborn children.

Even after leaving the temple, Jenkins found himself pondering the Pontiff's attitude. Was he treated this way because of their respective positions, or was the man simply that congenial by nature?

But he soon decided the question was utterly pointless and turned his thoughts to a more pressing matter: whether he still needed to eat lunch.