Chapter 287: Clergy from Across the World (I)
Dey Theological Seminary — Main Hall.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, scattering colors across the floor before the statue of the Holy Son.
"Ah~"
The doors to the main hall creaked open as several figures stepped inside.
"Father Gideon, we already searched this place an hour ago."
"Yes, I know," Gideon replied casually. "You mentioned the wine cellar was robbed last night, right?"
"…Yes."
"And Archbishop Matthew is missing as well?"
"That's correct."
"Then everything makes sense."
Gideon walked straight to the statue of the Holy Son and drew a cross over his chest.
"Father Gideon… what are you—"
"I'd like to pray alone for a while."
"Ah… understood. We'll continue searching. If we find anything, we'll inform you."
The doors soon closed again.
"Theft is a sin," Gideon said suddenly, "especially when the thief dares to show off beneath the gaze of the Holy Son."
"Pfft—"
A muffled voice came from behind the statue.
Moments later, an old man with a full head of white hair stepped out.
"Hey, kid… that's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Matthew muttered, wiping his beard with his sleeve.
"I'm purifying my soul with holy wine."
"Your soul must be filthy, then," Gideon replied, glancing at the dozen empty bottles on the floor.
"You—!"
Matthew grabbed a bottle instinctively.
But Gideon didn't move—he simply pointed upward.
"The Holy Son is watching."
Matthew froze… then reluctantly put the bottle down.
"So, what do you want?" he asked, taking another swig anyway.
Gideon pulled out the letter.
"Oh, that? Such an important matter—why did you only come now?"
Gideon's lips twitched. "If it's that important, why did you send a letter?"
"…You came at just the right time!" Matthew immediately corrected himself.
The abrupt shift nearly left Gideon speechless.
"Jolan sent word recently—the Clergy Order selection will take place next week. So you need to leave immediately."
Gideon paused, barely resisting the urge to roast the old man.
"…Where exactly am I going? And what does the selection involve?"
"Oh! I forgot to mention that!" Matthew slapped his forehead.
"This selection isn't just for North America—church institutions from all over the world will be sending representatives. And participants must come from diocesan-level churches."
Gideon raised a brow.
"But I'm only a parish priest."
"You're an exception," Matthew waved it off. "Jolan personally wrote you a recommendation letter."
"…What an honor," Gideon muttered, his expression stiff.
That kind of treatment would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.
"Philadelphia will be represented by St. Peter's Cathedral," Matthew continued, sneaking another drink.
"They'll be sending two clergy members."
"So…" Gideon glanced at him.
"Sister Bettice will be going with you. You two know each other, right?"
"Yes."
Gideon wisely chose to ignore the old man's blatant drinking.
He had already met Bettice twice—once during the Philadelphia memorial, and again during the Freddy incident.
"Good. She's been asking about you these past few days," Matthew said, pulling out his phone.
"Seems she's quite eager about the selection."
Of course you know how to use a phone… Gideon thought silently.
"Since you're back, I'll call her over and explain everything together."
A short while later—
"Come with me to St. Peter's. The Mason family is there to see Bettice off."
"The Mason family?"
"Her family," Matthew explained. "Devout believers of the Church."
"They've asked me several times to send a few ordained family members with her—but I refused."
He shook his head.
"This is a pilgrimage to sacred ground, not a sightseeing trip."
"Forming cliques like that would only make me lose face in front of the other old men."
Gideon blinked.
"…And drinking stolen wine under the Holy Son's statue isn't exactly dignified either."
"Shut up, you brat!"
Not long after—
St. Peter's Cathedral, Clergy Lounge.
Bettice Mason stood there, dressed in a clean and simple nun's habit…
Her fair skin, paired with emerald-like eyes, made her a striking presence—simply standing there, she looked like a painting come to life.
At the moment, several people stood beside her, most dressed in clerical robes.
"Did you bring all the sacred items prepared by the family?"
"Yes, Father. They're all packed."
"Good. Twenty-year sacred relics are precious, but if they allow us to connect with the great families in the Holy Land, the Mason family can afford the cost."
"Father…" Bettice frowned slightly. "This isn't our home."
Standing across from her was a middle-aged man who bore a strong resemblance to her.
At her words, he simply smiled.
"No need to worry. I specifically requested permission from Archbishop Matthew to use this hall. Today, only members of the Mason family are here."
Bettice opened her mouth, then sighed softly, unable to argue further.
"By the way," Wood Mason asked, "the one traveling with you this time—what family does he come from?"
A figure flashed through Bettice's mind.
"He's just an ordinary cleric… but very capable."
Wood didn't seem surprised.
He knew that for the Clergy Order selection, candidates from humble backgrounds were often included deliberately.
"That's fine," he nodded. "As a leader, it's important to have trustworthy subordinates."
"If he's worth investing in, you may provide him with some high-quality sacred items. No need to be stingy."
"But keep it under ten-year grade. Always remember—human nature can be treacherous."
"Father… he… I…" Bettice hesitated, unsure how to explain.
"I might not necessarily be the leader this time."
"If not you, then who? That commoner?" a young man beside them scoffed.
"Tal, watch your tone," Wood said sharply.
"Always maintain decorum. In the Church, there will always be those of higher standing than us. That's something you should learn from your sister."
Tal Mason clicked his tongue. "Understood."
"I've heard that most teams in this selection consist of more than three people," Wood continued.
"Perhaps Archbishop Matthew has other arrangements."
"Then there's still space! Why would he reject your request?" Tal couldn't hold back.
"Could it be that another family offered—"
"Enough!" Wood snapped.
"Who do you think you are, speaking of the Archbishop like that? Have you forgotten everything I taught you?"
"I… I…"
Bettice stepped in gently, "Father, Tal is just worried about me."
Wood took a deep breath.
"Leave. You've already said your goodbyes."
"You—take him to the prayer hall. Before dinner, he is to recite the Gospel of Luke five times."
"Yes, Father Mason."
The attendants responded respectfully, clearly close to the Mason family.
Tal opened his mouth, then lowered his head and turned away.
Creak—
The side hall door opened.
Tal wrinkled his nose—there was a strong smell of alcohol.
Two figures entered.
"Bettice, the boy's back," Archbishop Matthew said, walking straight toward the Mason family.
"Since you're all here, let me make an introduction."
He gestured behind him.
Gideon stepped forward.
"This is Father Gideon. He'll also be participating in the Clergy Order selection."
Gideon drew a cross over his chest.
Wood and the others returned the gesture immediately.
"Oh! Right!" Matthew added, taking another swig of wine.
"For this selection, Father Gideon will serve as the leader of the Philadelphia team. Bettice, make sure you cooperate with him."
The moment those words fell—
The expressions of everyone in the Mason family changed.