After returning to her mansion, Aililan went to bed early. The journey to the Holy Land for her reporting duty… it had been another exhausting day.
When she woke the next day, Yarandale, the Head Maid, brought her two secret letters.
One concerned work matters.
The other was an invitation to a “family dinner” from the Seven Regents, scheduled for tomorrow.
Just as when they had first returned to the Holy Land for their reporting duty, the Seven Regents had invited the Saintesses to gather in the Flower Sea. Now that the Saintesses had mostly arrived, it was time for them to return to their respective duties, so this banquet served as a farewell.
Aililan focused her attention on the first secret letter. After reading it carefully, she said, “Does Lady Isiphlan mean to give us whatever help she can manage?”
The resources offered were particularly generous. If valued in Gold Coins, each Saintess could take away materials worth approximately 10,000 Gold Coins.
However, Aililan placed more value on another form of assistance — one that Isiphlan viewed as a mere “bonus” or perhaps even a way to unload a burden: personnel support.
Whether it was military, political, or clergy members, if the Saintesses asked, they would be provided.
The Church had not expanded externally for a long time, and now every position was filled. It could be said that they were in a state of talent surplus.
There was even a phenomenon where a large number of clergy members graduated from the Theological Seminary but had no suitable positions, forcing them to change careers.
The consequence of this surplus was hyper-competition. Those who could remain and become Clergy members were exceptionally capable.
“Money doesn’t really matter,” Aililan said softly. “In Atester’s current state, an extra 10,000 Gold Coins or 10,000 less won’t make much of an impact. On the contrary, we are quite short on talent.”
“Do I want craftsmen? Governors? Or military officers…”
She listed several types of talent she needed, then rejected them one by one.
Craftsmen were the least necessary. Compared to skilled artisans who could handcraft exquisite items, Aililan preferred the assembly line production method of a Workshop. The Workshops in Atester were already transitioning toward an assembly-line factory model.
More importantly, these craftsmen were essentially just “artisans” rather than the kind of talent possessing research and development capabilities that she envisioned.
As for governors and military officers, there was no need for them either. She wasn’t planning a purge of the Fifth Wing Region, so there was no reason to introduce a group of “outsiders” and artificially create conflict.
“Then I’ll take some clergy members.”
“Mainly monks from the lowest level.”
Aililan quickly determined her requirements.
After the reorganizations in Atester last year, the economy had stabilized and was showing a vigorous trend of development.
Therefore, the most important goal for this year was to reorganize the military system.
Aililan had a concept — equipping the army with monks.
This would not only enhance the purity of the army but also form an invisible restraint on the various military officers.
Of course, the monks would only be responsible for spreading Doctrine, consolidating faith, and conveying the will of the Church; they would not participate in military command.
Currently, the total number of soldiers in Atester was approximately 55,000.
The initial plan was to assign one monk for every 100 people.
However, due to the limited number of local monks, the actual situation only allowed for one monk for every 500 people.
But now, since Isiphlan was willing to provide manpower —
“Then why not just set the ratio to 100:1 directly?” Aililan whispered.
Once this batch of monks became familiar with their duties, they could serve as a foundation to gradually expand into a larger military system in the future.
“I’ll state a number: 1,000.”
“If it’s even one person less, it would be looking down on Lady Isiphlan.”
She gave a light snort, a trace of pride in her expression.
Subsequently, Aililan began to draft the specific conditions for the required personnel:
First, do not select people from the Holy Land’s Theological Seminary. Most who come from the Church’s highest institution of learning are arrogant and find it difficult to settle down at the grassroots level of the military.
Second, do not take local personnel from the Fifth Wing; all monks must be selected based on the principle of being from different regions.
Third, their abilities can be slightly weaker, but their backgrounds must be clean. It is best to trace their backgrounds back three generations, giving priority to those who are not Nobles and have no established roots.
Fourth, …
After listing a series of conditions, Aililan switched to another sheet of paper and continued writing:
**[Proposal for Military Monk Treatment and Promotion Channels]**
**[Military Monk ranks are divided into Grade 1, Grade 2, and Grade 3 Monks according to the military’s level one, two, and three command systems.]**
**[Grade 1 Military Monks shall receive treatment equivalent to Apprentice Monks in a Cathedral.]**
**[Grade 2 Military Monks shall receive treatment equivalent to Formal Monks in a Cathedral.]**
**[Grade 3 Military Monks shall receive treatment equivalent to a Priest in a Cathedral.]**
Then she wrote:
**[Military Monk Management Regulations]**
**[Any military monk must receive specialized training from Military Academy personnel in addition to their theological studies. They may be promoted upon passing evaluations and receiving approval from superiors.]**
**[…]**
Before she knew it, the sky had already turned dark.
Aililan shook her aching wrist. A small stack of papers had already piled up on the desk.
She picked up the documents to review and revise them repeatedly… Time slipped away quietly until the midnight bells rang.
If Yarandale hadn’t taken pity on her Saintess and reminded her to rest, Aililan would likely have kept busy deep into the night.
—
The first rays of morning sunlight spilled into the room.
Aililan opened her eyes, feeling somewhat exhausted.
Yarandale attended to her at the side, asking softly, “Lady Saintess, would you like breakfast first, or a bath? Or… shall I prepare another cup of morning tea?”
Aililan let out a yawn and said listlessly, “Let me wash up first.”
She pointed to the stack of documents on the table and added, “Package these up and send them to… well, send them to the Saint of Temperance’s mansion. Tell her they are for the Regent and ask her to forward them on my behalf.”
After the orders were given, the little maids immediately became busy.
After eating breakfast, Aililan began to slack off. She planned to have someone bring over a brazier so she could stay huddled up for a while longer.
In the meantime, she thought about what delicious food would be at today’s “family dinner.”
In any case, since it was arranged by Regent Isiphlan, it certainly wouldn’t be bad.
‘Of course, I still need to be careful about the matter between me and the Diligence Saintess. I can’t let any clues slip.’
Gradually, her eyelids grew heavy, and she almost fell asleep again.
“Saintess! Saintess!”
“An urgent summons from the Regent!”
Yarandale ran over with a face full of anxiety, startling Aililan so much she thought an enemy had come knocking at the door.
Aililan frowned and tried to soothe her, “Don’t rush. Speak slowly. What exactly is going on?”
Yarandale caught her breath and said, “It seems… it seems to be related to those documents you asked the Saint of Temperance to forward. However, I checked the tone of the messenger; it shouldn’t be anything bad.”
Aililan was confused.
‘I thought the sky was falling.’
‘Turns out it was just this?’