Chapter 436: From Small Town

As soon as the guess was made, York became even more certain that the old man who had been unconscious must have woken up.

Because this uncomfortable feeling was all too familiar.

It only happened when the old man was secretly scheming against him.

However, concerning the Episcopal Council, York could only suppress his thoughts.

For the council seated at the Vatican was akin to a cabinet from a past life.

Each bishop there was a cardinal, the famous Cardinal Bishops, whose group meetings were similar to cabinet meetings and even had the privilege of electing the Pope.

Their official status was much higher than his newly promoted district bishop, at least four ranks higher.

So, since it was a secret meeting, asking about it would be fruitless.

"Eileen, keep a closer eye on things for me," York calmly said to Eileen.

"Report anything that involves me in a timely manner."

Seeing her bishop so serious, Eileen became solemn and respectfully replied, "Yes, Bishop."

York smiled and nodded.

"Let's eat, and after that, we'll go and see our church."

As he said this, looking at the holographic image of Hannah still sleeping sweetly in bed, York paused:

"Oh right, remember to bring breakfast for Hannah, she went to bed late last night and is likely to sleep in again."

Eileen nodded, indicating her understanding.

Hearing this, York glanced again at Alesia next to him, gobbling down her food, oblivious to the world outside, a smile appearing on his face, feeling that life couldn't get any better than this moment.

...

St. Mary's Church.

"Amen."

York finished his daily prayer task, opened his eyes, made the sign of the cross in front of the image of Jesus, and concluded.

Simultaneously, a task notification sounded in his ear.

"Bishop Giorgi."

York looked toward the old man sitting beside him and said.

Since he had finished breakfast, this old man had been waiting in the church for him.

Bishop Giorgi opened his eyes and looked over, his face wrinkled but serene.

"Farewell," York said gently.

Bishop Giorgi nodded.

Seeing this, York stood up, bowed slightly to the old man, and walked briskly towards the outside.

In his holographic display, Eileen and the others had been waiting outside for a while, but before he got halfway there, Bishop Giorgi's voice called out from behind.

"York."

York stopped and looked back; Bishop Giorgi had risen and was looking his way.

"Safe travels."

"Thank you." York smiled, walked away from the spot, and, under the salute of the four guards at the door, headed toward Eileen and the others waiting in front.

Eileen stood in a tight clerical robe, silently standing there. Beside her was Alesia, already running towards him, and Hannah, still yawning and appearing utterly bored.

Behind the three were John Wick and Hili.

"Let's go! We're heading out now."

Suppressing Alesia's attempt to jump over, York waved his hand and smiled.

"Yes, Bishop."

...

Bergen's Sognefjord.

The town called From welcomed an ordinary bus, which drove down a street and eventually stopped in front of an equally unremarkable church.

"We've arrived, Bishop York."

At the indication of a priest in his mid-forties, York turned his gaze from the window and nodded, looking at Eileen to send a signal.

Eileen, understanding the gesture, got up and walked to the back to wake Hannah and Alesia, who had fallen asleep leaning against each other.

As for John Wick and Hili, they were already up and watching the scene.

Seeing Hannah and Alesia being awakened by Eileen, still half-asleep, York couldn't help but laugh.

The journey's scenery was indeed beautiful and captivating, surrounded by majestic, steep mountains, awe-inspiring waterfalls, and deep valleys. But, as picturesque as it was, it could become monotonous and dull.

Especially for Hannah and Alesia, who got so bored halfway that they started playing games on a tablet together.

Watching the two, now being pulled up by Eileen, York shook his head and began walking towards the bus's front door, accompanied by John Wick, Hili, and local priest Father Diego.

A calm yet bustling atmosphere welcomed him.

His view through the front gate, across the central path, was of a very ordinary, unremarkable church.

Although the front yard was decently spacious, the church itself was even smaller than any he had overseen.

What was unique, however, was that the church was entirely built of stone, and the path was flanked by green lawns, yet stood several gravestones.

According to the holographic map, there were no bodies beneath the ground; these so-called gravestones were probably just the local people's way of remembering the church

's past priests through memorial graves.

Setting aside other aspects, the medieval-style atmosphere hit him squarely.

But, that was precisely the style here and also a crucial factor in attracting tourists.

York glanced around; although the town was small, the fjord harbor could dock a giant cruise ship carrying 3,000 people, arranged by the Kingdom of Norway for tourists.

Also, a green train heading up the mountain and various sightseeing boats were docked at the riverside near the town.

Besides these, there was a small train station; this probably was the famous Flåm Railway's starting point, known as one of the world's steepest mountain railways, which took Norway 20 years to build, thus dubbed a miraculous project and now a top scenic railway in Europe.

On the other side was a spacious camping area; many tourists came in RVs.

Even though it was evening, the small town, with a population of just around a thousand, still had several tourists wandering the streets, importantly, not a few in number, including various ethnicities.

Seeing the curious glances from passers-by, York retracted his gaze, and information about this small town naturally emerged in his mind.

Flåm, a village in Norway's Sognefjord area with less than 1,000 inhabitants, nestled among three large mountains and located at the deepest part of the Aurlandsfjord, was recognized as one of the world's most beautiful travel destinations.

It was also his final destination, meaning he was going to spend a considerable amount of time here.

But it had to be said, the scenery along the way was quite beautiful; the title of one of the world's most beautiful travel destinations was indeed well-deserved.

Along the way, he saw either tourists or locals coming to visit. Even heavy snowfall and biting cold didn't deter these visitors' enthusiasm.

According to Father Diego, Flåm's role as a transit hub meant that each year, tourists from 172 different countries, numbering in the hundreds of thousands and sometimes even reaching a million, visited.

So, to keep a low profile, he simply had the local clergy arrange an inconspicuous bus for their group and sent back Father Cameron and others who had come with him.

But it seemed it was still not low-profile enough.

Feeling the constant, curious glances from tourists and locals, York glanced at his clerical robe; it was too conspicuous, anyone could tell at a glance that he was a clergyman, but it didn't matter, after today he would be playing the role of a priest.

"Uncle York, are we staying here?" Alesia's lazy voice came from behind, already down from the bus with Hannah, with Eileen following like a mother figure.

"This church is so small." She yawned as she spoke, her eyes teary, becoming more human-like the more she interacted with people.

"It's a church built in the sixteenth century, after all, with over five hundred years of history."

Having said this, York looked toward the cautious Father Diego beside him, knowing these people must have already arranged everything.

"Back to you, Bishop, we have already arranged accommodations for you," Father Diego said, pointing to a building just ten steps behind the church.

It was a villa built of wood and painted red, situated at the foot of the mountain and appeared large, with its own front and backyard, different from the houses or cabins on the street, clearly standing out in terms of size.

"Hmm."

York sent a look to John Wick and Hili, who were still scrutinizing the surroundings.

Both got the message, bowed slightly, and went ahead to check the villa.

Seeing this, York turned back, patted Alesia's head, and looked at Hannah.

"Eileen, you take them over," he instructed.

Eileen nodded, gestured to Alesia and Hannah to follow.

"Ah."

Hannah yawned, looking at York, "Father, I'll take Alesia over then."

Having stayed up all night and with the day's travels, she was still very tired.

"Hmm."

York smiled and nodded, waving to Alesia, who kept looking back as she was led away by Hannah, then turned his attention to the small church in front of him, pushing open the iron gate and walking in by himself.

Father Diego and his assistant monks hurriedly followed.

"Do they usually keep this place closed?" York walked down the central path, looking at the grass on either side and the several gravestones, calmly asked.

"Yes, Bishop York, because there are too many visitors coming and going," Father Diego replied.

"So, to maintain the condition here, except for the ten visiting days each month, it is usually closed."

York was expressionless, walking up to the church's wooden door, which had over five hundred years of history, and pushed it open.

What appeared before him was a plain church, quite rudimentary compared to those he had seen.

There weren't many

 decorations, even the glass windows next to it didn't have any designs, plain and ordinary, not much different from regular windows, and York could tell that these windows were not originally there but had been specially modified.

The stone walls were rough and uneven, with several candle holders hanging.

One could imagine how the priests of the medieval period had to move around, holding a lamp in the darkness of night, bustling everywhere.

He was certain that the medieval times must have been even more chaotic than now.

Imagining that fiery scene in his mind, York continued walking down the central aisle, followed by the accompanying Father Diego and others.

"Bring a piano here later," York pointed to the space next to the podium, calmly said.

"There's a child coming here for an internship after the holidays."

Father Diego and his assistants exchanged glances and nodded.

"Yes, Bishop York, I will start arranging that tomorrow."

York then pointed to the modern chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

"This lighting also needs changing, try to use warm lights that can create an atmosphere, like the light of a candle."

Father Diego quietly took note, "Yes, Bishop York, I have noted it down."

York again pointed to the benches on both sides, "These also need to be replaced, I need brand-new benches, otherwise, it won't fit that many people."

Father Diego still nodded in agreement, in front of York, he had no right to refuse.

"Since it's decided to open, then remember to bring the donation box as well," York unabashedly said.

"Sometimes accepting donations from the faithful is good for their psychological build-up, because giving is also a form of contribution, this way God can know what they have done, and we can fully dedicate ourselves to serving the faithful."

"Yes, Bishop York," Father Diego said, his normally calm voice finally fluctuating.

"I have noted it down."

Ignoring the change in Father Diego's voice, York looked around at the deliberately placed old decorations to add a sense of age.

"Also, take all these apparently expensive antiques back, lest someone fiddles with them and damages something."

Father Diego still nodded in agreement, indicating his understanding.

For a while, under York's instructions, this church with over five hundred years of history underwent a complete transformation.

All items added for a sense of age were taken back to the store, and while replacing with new items, more modern decorations were also added.

For example, exquisite and luxurious curtains needed to be hung next to the windows, and the windows needed to be re-painted with designs.

New candle holders had to be placed behind the podium to enhance the atmosphere there.

The rough stone walls needed to be adorned with some metaphorical religious oil paintings to add a bit of prestige to attract the incoming faithful.

"Give me the keys to the church, then go back and prepare," York said to Father Diego and others standing by the bus, quite straightforwardly.

"Don't rush to prepare, there's plenty of time, but once the renovations are done, remember to let me know."

"Yes"

Father Diego, by now, had roughly figured out the character of this legendary bishop and obediently presented the main key carefully.

York took it effortlessly, closed the iron gate that separated the tourists and locals, and locked it.

After this step, York glanced at the bus where Father Diego and others were still standing quietly, not daring to move.

"Go back early, it's getting late, be careful on the road," York knew they wouldn't leave without him moving; he spoke while walking towards the villa, which had the lights on at the back.

Behind him, the voices of Father Diego and others came.

"Yes, Bishop York."

York didn't look back, simply waved his hand in gesture.

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