Chapter 119: Faith and Deities
The first class in the afternoon was theology.
Theology was a mandatory course, and it was also the first class for new Level One students at the Royal Academy. The girls from 1504 were generally quite excited; no one wanted to take a nap at noon, fearing they might be late. They arrived early at the main entrance of the teaching building.
The overall structure of the building was square, looking somewhat like ancient Babylonian architecture from the outside but grander and more majestic. The first floor had massive beams supported by stone pillars, with huge stone doors on either side, each flanked by lion statues over three meters tall that looked lifelike. The outer layer of the building was made of light blueish-white stones about two meters thick. Green plants grew between the stones, spreading all the way up, making the entire structure seem alive and vibrant.
I counted nine floors in total. From the outside, each floor had a row of large windows resembling arches, which probably connected to each classroom.
Although there were no classes divided into different sections in the academy, the four dormitory towers used different classrooms for the same courses, had different schedules, and even different teachers. Therefore, the towers could be seen as larger classes, and I was in the “Ceylon Lake” Level One class… this understanding seemed fine?
In any case, our classroom was on the fifth floor.
Following the stone steps up, according to the schedule in my dorm room, I finally arrived at a large stone room. The interior layout wasn’t far off from what I had imagined: rows of wooden chairs and desks, and a raised platform for the lectern, though there was no blackboard.
Looking around, I chose a middle seat near the window, not too conspicuous, and placed the books _God and Faith_ and _God’s History_ on the desk, casually flipping through a few pages. With my chin resting on my hand, I waited idly for the class to start.
At this moment, Sarah beside me leaned her head over, “Pei, Pei… They’re all looking at you, hehe.”
She whispered to me as if she had discovered some great secret, her face beaming with pride.
I gave her a puzzled look.
It’s not like they’re looking at you, but at me. What are you so proud of?
And do you think I would find this enjoyable?
This is torture!
So I frowned at her and pouted, “Annoying.”
Due to my acute senses, I disliked being stared at, especially by many people. It made me furious, but I couldn’t go over and blind them one by one. Each time, I could only endure it.
But the gazes of the other students were very “enthusiastic,” possibly mixed with some malicious and lecherous looks. What annoyed me the most was that I could hear what most of them were saying.
“Hey, look… that lady with black hair…”
“Damn, is she from our tower?!”
“She’s beautiful…”
“Do you want to go over and get to know her?”
“…Why don’t you go?”
“I’m afraid she won’t talk to me…”
Such discussions could be considered polite. There were also a few vulgar individuals whispering indecent words that made me want to grab their collar and throw them out the window.
But there were too many such situations. If I took each one seriously, I wouldn’t be able to do anything else. All day long, I’d just be bothered by these things. So, I forced myself not to care and treated them as animals; let them say whatever they want.
Before I could chat much with Sarah, the teacher arrived. He was a man in his forties, wearing a pale golden robe of the church, with a kind face and a smiling expression.
Seeing him slowly ascend the stone platform, the students fell silent for a moment.
Then they started whispering and discussing.
“What’s going on?”
“Theology… shouldn’t it be taught by Lady Teresa?”
“Isn’t it her teaching us?”
“I saw her this morning…”
“Who is this teacher?”
“Cough, cough.”
Clearing his throat, the atmosphere immediately fell silent once more.
He glanced around the classroom and continued, “I believe most of you don’t know me yet, so let me introduce myself first. I am Father Morgan from the Wangcheng Galah Church, and also your future theology teacher. From today on, I will be explaining to you the fascinating aspects of theology and faith.”
Clap, clap, clapping intensified—
Father Morgan raised his hand to quieten the applause, then he grinned.
“I know you must be quite puzzled, right? We saw Sister Teresa this morning, so why isn’t she teaching theology?”
“Yeah, why not, Teacher Morgan?” someone asked.
Father Morgan descended from the stone platform.
“Although it’s unexpected, due to some special reasons, Sister Teresa is not actually the theology teacher, but she will engage with you in another elective course. She has a busy schedule and cannot manage all her courses, so please understand her… Anyway, let’s get straight to the point.” The priest clapped his hands, “Next, we’ll start with the main topic… but don’t open your textbooks yet. Today’s lesson won’t cover what’s in the book. Instead, I’ll tell you a story first.”
… I gently closed the books on the table, adjusted my posture, and looked at him.
Father Morgan began speaking fluently.
“Firstly, some of you might have heard this story, while others haven’t. But I think no one here would be unfamiliar with the name Patrick, right?”
Immediately, someone below responded, “Patrick, the first hero of mankind!”
The priest snapped his fingers.
“That’s right. The story I’m about to tell begins with our first hero. Over a thousand years ago in the Gregorian calendar… of course, even the great gods might not be able to pinpoint the exact time…”
Despite being a clergyman, he was far from being rigid or serious. His lectures were lively and engaging, often making everyone laugh.
Even I couldn’t help but listen intently.
The content of this class was simple; he only told a very long story.
Over a thousand years before the Gregorian calendar, there was a young man named Patrick who met a god and received a blessing.
This was the origin of faith.
At that time, there were many strange races in the world. There were the Immortals hidden deep within the Amikil Mountains, who were not only immortal but could also move mountains with their will.
Then there were the fairy folk, skilled in brewing, with sharp and long ears capable of hearing animal cries from kilometers away. They could freely control trees and water, known as the Children of the Forest.
Yes, these were the elves without a doubt.
And those dragons soaring in the sky, wielding the power of light and flame, powerful and invincible… For humans, these races were the favored children of the gods.
In their eyes, humans lacked sharp claws and fangs, couldn’t fly, and couldn’t even climb trees. They were slow, weak, lived less than a hundred years, and struggled to learn anything. They were extremely weak species, struggling for survival, easily torn apart by weak wolves or dying from eating mushrooms.
Too weak.
Weak to the point it seemed like a joke played by the world.
Thus, humans were once on the brink of extinction until a young man named Patrick encountered a god by chance.
Patrick knelt down and prayed to the great god, telling the god that his people were on the verge of destruction. The god, after listening, believed it was his own negligence and was moved by how humans still resisted injustice despite such harsh disadvantages.
“Child, your sincerity has touched me. I will give you the spark of faith, allowing your race to continue.”
Thus, humans received new power from the gods—the power of faith.
This was the beginning of the Holy Church. Although at that time, they were merely referred to as a group of “people favored by the gods.”
