I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 569 Believe
Deep within the Cathedral of the Goddess of Agriculture, Vortradnoi.

The heavy oak door shut out the noise and panic that would inevitably arise from the strange changes in the sky. Only the flickering candlelight on the altar and the scent of vanilla in the air maintained a brief moment of tranquility.

Lydia, a young woman who had recently regained her position as high priestess for her merits and profound repentance, knelt before a sacred emblem surrounded by ears of wheat and grapevines, wearing a dark green robe symbolizing abundance and life.

Her face appeared exceptionally solemn in the candlelight, even with a hint of pallor.

The church was not empty; several high priests and devout priestesses sat silently at a distance, witnessing this emergency internal ceremony.

The cracks in the sky and the falling evil fire filled all believers with dread. They desperately needed guidance from the goddess to clarify how the church should conduct itself and how believers should survive in this apocalyptic situation.

Lydia took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil in her heart.

She knew better than anyone the weight of her burden, and longed more than anyone for a clear divine message. She closed her eyes, gently placed her hands on the cold holy emblem, and began to softly chant ancient prayers, immersing herself completely in meditation to connect with the will of the goddess.

Time flowed by in silence, with only the occasional crackling of the candlelight.

Lydia's forehead gradually beaded with sweat, her brows furrowing and relaxing at times, as if she were experiencing intense communication and a torrent of information on a spiritual level.

The priestesses watched with bated breath, their attention tense as they observed their high priestess. They could sense that Lydia was engaging in a profound communion with some sublime being, an experience that was not always pleasant or easy.

Finally, Lydia's body trembled slightly, and the chanting stopped abruptly.

She suddenly opened her eyes, a glimmer of divine light still lingering deep within her pupils, but that light was quickly replaced by confusion and a profound sense of awe.

What she received was not the specific guidance she had expected regarding sowing, harvesting, or resisting famine, nor was it a clear method on how to use divine magic to purify demons.

It was a message that was crystal clear, yet vague in meaning, and even somewhat... "inappropriate," which was directly imprinted deep in her soul.

She slowly raised her head, her gaze sweeping over all the expectant faces present. Her voice carried a hint of exhaustion from the sacred encounter, yet it proclaimed with exceptional clarity.

"The goddess... has issued a divine decree."

Everyone perked up and listened more attentively.

Lydia took a deep breath and repeated the words that had entered her mind, each word carrying immense weight.

"Trust your king. Trust... Chris, who made the decision to sacrifice himself."

As soon as he finished speaking, the secret room fell into an eerie silence.

Trust the king?

In this realm where divine authority should supersede royal authority, the goddess's first instruction was to believe in a secular monarch?

Chris, who made the decision to sacrifice himself?

The king known for his iron fist, secrecy, and power?

He was indeed leading the country to prosperity, but the word "self-sacrifice" seemed so jarring and even unsettling when associated with that unfathomable emperor.

An elderly priest couldn't help but speak, his voice filled with doubt.

"High Priest... this, is this really the goddess's original words?"
The goddess guides us to entrust our faith and the fate of the church to the king alone.
And self-sacrifice… what does that even mean?” Lydia’s gaze hardened again, though her heart was filled with questions. She recalled her own experience of redemption after making a mistake, and the seemingly cold actions of His Majesty Chris that actually concealed some deeper purpose.

"The will of the goddess is beyond our comprehension."

She spoke in a deep voice, her tone regaining the authority of a high priestess.

"The divine message is clear. In this time of crisis, we must steadfastly obey it... Trust in His Majesty's leadership and believe that he can lead us through this calamity."

At the same time, remember self-sacrifice… Perhaps this is not only His Majesty's characteristic, but also the Goddess's expectation of all of us believers: when darkness falls, we must be prepared to sacrifice ourselves for others and for order.”

She stood up, her ceremonial robe trailing on the ground, and looked around at the crowd.

"This oracle shall be secretly transmitted to bishops and trusted high-ranking clergy in various places."

Reassure the believers, telling them that the goddess has not abandoned us and that she has shown the way.

What we must do is steadfastly walk the path His Majesty has guided, and be ready at any time... to give everything to protect life and this land.

The ceremony ended, and the priests, with complex and heavy hearts, quietly withdrew to carry out the high priest's orders. Lydia remained alone before the altar, gazing up at the sky outside the stained-glass window, stained with ominous cracks.

"Trust your king... Chris, who sacrificed himself..."

She repeated the divine oracle in a low voice, silently reciting it in her heart.

"Your Majesty, what exactly are you planning? And how can we keep up with you?"

Like everyone else, Delia had many doubts, but she believed in the goddess and in His Majesty Chris, because based on past events and observations, Chris was an extremely competent king who was truly improving the lives of farmers and the lower classes.

This is extremely rare in mainland Greece.

Whether it's an empire, a kingdom, or the so-called United Nations, their rulers are all more anthropomorphic than human.

Brutal, stupid, arrogant, crazy, insane, mentally challenged, and a whole host of others.

Lydia's mind flashed with the faces of those rulers and powerful figures, and a feeling of powerlessness and disgust welled up inside her. Compared to them, His Majesty Chris was like the only steadfast and pure rock in a murky swamp.

During her exile to the countryside of Bagnya after her mistake, she saw not despair from oppression, but vibrant life.

She saw that His Majesty Chris's new agricultural tools and farming techniques were being promoted for free or at low cost.

I saw the canals and roads built by local farmers' associations with funding from the kingdom.

Seeing how grassroots circuit courts fairly handle land disputes and protect the interests of small farmers.

Seeing the once emaciated children of serfs now able to read and do arithmetic in the newly built village school...

These tangible changes made her realize that His Majesty Chris was not merely powerful or shrewd; he possessed a quality almost extinct in other rulers—truly placing the well-being of his people, especially the survival and development of the lowest classes, at the core of his rule.

(End of this chapter)