"Go to the Forsaken Lands?" The young bishop suddenly raised his voice sharply. "That’s impossible!"

  Yes, it was impossible.

  Everyone knew the terror of the Forsaken Lands, a black hole of faith where even the glory of the gods could not illuminate that darkness. The Church had not been without attempts to incorporate Pramisburg, a city of great strategic significance, into its domain. Traveling east from Pramisburg through the Weimar Corridor led to the Byron Empire, which did not follow the Light Church; they worshipped the Nature God, a minor deity in the divine hierarchy.

  The Church believed that if it could extend its influence into the Byron Empire, its domain would quickly double in size, and small faiths like the Nature Church would be unable to resist the Light Church’s advance. But to achieve this, a prerequisite was establishing the Light Church’s prestige in Bell Province.

  Missionary work was not simply about sending fanatical believers to propagate doctrine. Breaking down old belief systems and establishing new ones inevitably sparked religious wars of faith. Do not assume that believers are all merciful and peace-loving; once matters of faith were involved, all believers could become ruthless butchers. Therefore, to defeat the Nature Church, a stable rear base was necessary.

  Thus, the Church set its sights on Pramisburg, known as the "City of Sin" and the "City of Chaos." If it could overcome the "hardest bone" in Bell Province and make those villains and scum begin to believe in the Light Church, the Church could make a resounding debut in Bell Province and become another force second only to the official authorities.

  Unfortunately, the people of Pramisburg did not fall for this. The elite bishops sent there were deceived by the locals, failing to convert a single believer and wasting vast funds to build a grand cathedral, only to be driven out in the end. The so-called plan became a laughingstock, and the attitude of the entire Bell Province toward the Church shifted with this failure.

  Come to think of it, if even those commoners could not be deceived, why should anyone believe in this god?

  Of course, there were believers in Bell Province, but they were far from fanatical.

  Thus, terms like "spurned by the gods," carrying a stigma, were coined by angry apostles, claiming that Pramisburg was rejected by the gods, an abandoned junkyard that would never enjoy divine grace and the shine of divine glory.

  If not for Emperor Orlando VI’s strict order prohibiting the Church from using force within the country, they would have sent Church armed forces on an eastern expedition to cleanse that city full of sin.

  Now, after the Twenty-Three Seats Roundtable Council—a very formal meeting within the Church consisting of twenty cardinals, two archbishops, and the pope—such a conclusion was reached: to send someone to Pramisburg to preach again, and importantly, this task fell to the young bishop. How could he remain calm? There must be a conspiracy here; someone must want to harm him, jealous of his young rise to a high position and seeking to destroy his future, hence this vicious "plan."

  Facing the young bishop’s outburst, the cardinal known as the "Warm Sun in Winter" was not annoyed at all. After the young bishop gradually calmed his anger, he said casually, "Well, if you don’t want to go, then don’t go." The young bishop was taken aback, his face showing a smile and a touch of shame, but the next words instantly disrupted his expression, making his features contort with anger. "Then you’ll go to the North Polar Ice Wastes. We’ve just built the first church on the ice wastes in Winter Fort; they need you there."

  If he had not considered that the honorable lord before him was a pivotal cardinal in the Church, if he had not considered that the cardinal was already advanced in years, if he had not considered…, he would have loved to punch the old man in the face and smash that old face to pieces.

  Dammit, the North Polar Ice Wastes? How could they even come up with that!

  That place and Pramisburg were both called Lost Lands, and it was even worse.

  The barbarians there ate raw meat and wore animal skins, worshipping totems and strength. Convincing them to change their faith was not difficult—one only needed to defeat them in battle. But the crux was that in a place where even urinating required a stick to break the ice, not to mention him, even titled professionals at Rank 7 or 8 could not exert half their combat power. How was he, a cleric, supposed to survive there? He would probably be carried away by the barbarians and roasted as food.

  After a long silence, the young bishop finally made his choice, gritting his teeth and saying, "Fine, I submit to the Council’s decision. I’ll go to Pramisburg."

  "Winter’s Warmth," the cardinal’s official title, nodded with a smile. "That’s excellent. Sign here!"

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  A letter of responsibility sent five priests and one bishop on a despairing journey to Pramisburg, like walking corpses.

  Damned bureaucracy!

  Arno, far away in Pramisburg, would never have imagined that the Church would cooperate so readily. He had planned to invite the Church again in the name of a golden noble if they disagreed. In reality, he did not understand much about religion. While the Light Church had a large following in the Orlando Empire, it had made no progress in other countries. Moreover, its domestic development had nearly reached a critical point, and Emperor Orlando VI would not allow a religion to override the ruling class.

  Thus, the Church decided to focus on foreign missions, areas beyond Orlando VI’s control. If they could preach peacefully, that would be fine; if not, they would use conquest as the foundation for missionary work. Orlando VI was satisfied with this choice and actively instructed local rulers to cooperate with the Church’s actions in some areas.

  Unaware of the underlying details, Arno, upon learning that the Church’s advance party was already on its way, wrote a letter thanking the Church for its magnanimity, and the matter was temporarily set aside.

  Next, he intended to establish a complete provincial academy in Pramisburg.

  The academy would be divided into a College of Letters and a College of War. The College of Letters would select students step by step, with the ultimate goal of entering the Imperial Higher Academy. Graduates often became part of the privileged class in various sectors, serving as administrative personnel. With luck, they could become nobles within a few to ten-odd years, making this the most reliable path for commoners to enter the privileged and ruling classes. Unfortunately, the Imperial Higher Academy, which enrolled only 100 students annually, was not easy to enter; over 200,000 scholars pleaded outside its gates each year.

  The College of War was relatively simpler: students needed a certain talent. Graduating from the capital higher academy in each province marked the end of their academic journey in martial studies, after which they could join the army or venture out on their own. Whether they could eventually become titled professionals was uncertain; only one in a thousand graduates achieved this each year. It was both difficult, given the numbers, and not, considering the annual successes, though most remained stuck at Rank 5.

  Of course, these were matters for the future. The pressing task was to let the people of Pramisburg enjoy the changes brought by the academy: to make them literate, well-behaved, and educated, and to make them stronger and more knowledgeable about combat and warfare.

  Establishing the academy was not just talk; first, a chancellor had to be selected.

  "Mr. Heines, what do you think of my plan?" Across from Arno sat the chosen man, a 69-year-old former chancellor of a capital-level higher academy, dismissed from the education system for having a relationship beyond friendship with a female student fifty years his junior.

  Why had Arno chosen this man with a moral stain as chancellor? First, he did not care if Heines would misbehave in Pramisburg, trusting that the people of Pramisburg would warmly show the old man the consequences of bullying young girls—far more than a dismissal letter or a mild rebuke from the Ministry of Education. Second, the female student who had ruined his reputation was now his wife, and Arno believed that at Heines’ age, he would be completely dominated by her, leaving no chance for misbehavior.

  After quickly flipping through Arno’s proposal, Heines pondered for a moment before slowly nodding. "Your proposal is excellent, covering all aspects, but there’s a problem: how will tuition be handled? How will students be selected?" The proposal did not include these details, so he had to ask. Academies had never been havens for the poor; they catered to wealthy merchants and the elite class, the social elite.

  In this world, academies were more like oversized state-owned speculative institutions, speculating on students. If they succeeded and became elites, they would repay the academy. Educating and nurturing talent was merely a secondary purpose.

  Arno said, "I plan to implement universal basic compulsory education, with the initial four years free of charge. Outstanding students will enter the intermediate academy, funded by Pramisburg’s finances. Every child of the appropriate age has the right to receive education!"

  Heines drew a sharp breath, hesitating whether to put down the proposal and leave.

  Education was a powerful weapon. From the Holy Empire, where nobles monopolized educational resources, to the Orlando Empire, which distributed them to the elite class, there had been not just debates but bloody massacres. Hundreds and thousands of pioneers had become the foundation for today’s academy system, forgotten as footnotes or taboo topics.

  Now Arno intended to decentralize educational resources again, allowing even the common class to receive education, making Heines realize the significance of this undertaking.

  If successful, he, a disgraced man, would become a representative figure of an era, revered by future generations.

  If failed, surviving would be his greatest luck, as those controlling educational resources would see him as a thorn in their side, eager to eliminate him!

  Even the imperial ruling class would jump out to oppose this.

  A group of intelligent, idealistic, and learned subjects were never easier to govern than ignorant and apathetic ones.

  Knowledge, the more one had, the easier it was to reflect and question—this was the root of shaking governance!

  Heines’ facial expressions changed constantly, and Blair’s hand slowly rested on the sword hilt. Before the academy was truly established, no news could leak out, or the resistance would be greater than imagined. Only after it became a fait accompli could these matters be gradually revealed to face the storm.

  As if sensing the cold aura emanating from Blair, Heines shuddered, his heated mind suddenly cooling and clearing.

  He smiled bitterly, dropped the proposal on the table, and sighed deeply. "As you wish, Your Highness!"

  The old man even used the ancient language of the Holy Empire; addressing the head of a golden noble family as "Your Highness" was not out of place.

  Arno truly smiled now, standing up and walking to Heines’ side to pat his shoulder. "Do a good job—you’ll be proud of your choice today!"

  Heines wanted to spit in his face. Did I have a choice?