[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations":3,"chapter-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-14":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Nation of Ten Thousand Nations",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2332982,4562,"Chapter 14: Man-Made","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-14",14,"\u003Cp>Longinus was as tall and thin as the holy spear bearing his name, dark and sharp, often squinting as he looked down upon others.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Longinus was not his original name; he had vowed not to reclaim his surname until he achieved something great, though now it seemed that hope grew ever more distant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Know this: Liulangqishirutazhebanchongchizhengzuoshengcheng ， Tamenhuoyinjiazuyiqi ， Huoyinlingzhuyanqi ， Huoyinweinengdachengshiyan ， Huoyinchufanxiguanfayujiaofa ， Caihuaichuaiyisiweiruoxiwang ， Jie “ Chaosheng ” Yu “ Yuyijiaotuzuozhan ” Zhiming ， Jinruyalasalu 。\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such thoughts are not strange, for the Knights Templar, the Hospitallers, and the four Christian kings of the Arabian Peninsula had all emerged from the Crusades; Kexideshishiyunbuji ， Rujinyalasalugedashilizaoyichengxing ， Zaibushigushenqishijinpingyongqiyuwuyibiannengyingdezanyu 、 Huangjinyujueweideshidaile 。\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At seventeen, Longinus boarded a ship to Jaffa with a servant, three horses, and a full set of armor and weapons; now he had only himself, a leather jerkin, a longsword, and one horse. For ten years he had sought opportunity everywhere, yet large orders like the Knights Templar or the Hospitallers required sponsors—he could not even cross their thresholds; wealthy merchants and nobles coming to pilgrimage either had their own guards or preferred to hire Templar knights; he turned to bribing officials of Arasal, but they were either swindlers or useless wastes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ironically, it was a slightly compassionate waste who gave him an opportunity: serving as a servant to the clergy of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The clergy did not remain only within church or monastery—they often traveled to perform sacraments for devout and wealthy believers, and beyond Arasal, the clergy became one of the favorite targets for bandits—perhaps you wonder why this job faced no fierce competition?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Well… that was because… the clergy were miserly. Their wages barely kept Longinus from nakedness and starvation, and the only other thing offered was an empty promise—to recommend him to the King of Arasal, and that Longinus could freely enter and exit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the adjacent Plaza of Suffering like a monk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And so Longinus used this privilege to earn money.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Church of the Holy Sepulchre was not open to all at all times, though canon law dictated it should be. But monks and clergy always found ways to deny pilgrims who failed to offer sufficient gifts—they could not see, touch, or even smell any trace of Jesus Christ’s sacred relics, so crowds of pilgrims would linger before the stairs leading to the Plaza of Suffering, weeping, praying, kneeling, hoping some kind soul would pity them and take them inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Longinus was no good man, but he was unexpectedly skilled at finding opportunities, and he was not greedy—he charged only half the clergy’s price. When not traveling, he would select two or three pilgrims at dusk or twilight, claim they were his friends or companions, and lead them into the church. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement: pilgrims fulfilled their wishes, Longinus supplemented his poverty, and the clergy could more confidently command him—though some among them privately resented it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet sometimes, the knight would gaze at the sky, lost in deep thought: Was this all his life would be? He did not know when the clergy would finally grow tired of him and order him away; even if they tolerated him, how many more years could he maintain his strength and sharpness? He had considered saving money, but armor needed repair and polishing, the horse needed feeding, the sword and lance needed care, and he himself needed food and drink…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he imagined five or ten years hence, he would be like the old or crippled knights he had seen—clutching an empty purse, head bowed, riding a bony old horse, carrying a spear ready to snap at any moment, walking fearfully and hopelessly along a homebound path, begging his nephew for charity, seeking work on his farm—as a foreman perhaps… maybe he would have descendants, maybe not; but even if he did, his descendants would be mere commoners.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had seen with his own eyes how his father and brother treated a commoner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Any man with a heart would shudder at the thought.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Longinus?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A voice pulled Longinus back from a possible hell to the world of men—he saw Brother Thomas, and beside him, a boy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The boy wore a dark green velvet coat, rarely seen even in his own home, and wore a silver cross on his chest: “Longinus,” Thomas said, “I have a favor to ask of you.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What is it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I know you know the church well,” Thomas said. “This young brother has taken a vow to cleanse the Lord’s dwelling himself. I must prepare my lessons and cannot accompany him—though I would gladly do so. Knight, could you watch over him? Only from the rising of the Evening Star until morning prayer.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Longinus was naturally unwilling, but he knew Brother Thomas’s secular surname was Gerard—within Arasal, the name Gerard was never lightly dismissed. Was this boy from the Gerard family? If so, his behavior made sense; yet when he looked into the boy’s eyes, he was less certain. He had no scholarly knowledge, no talent for song or poetry, but this boy was unmistakably different from the noble youths Longinus had met before.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Very well,” Longinus said, like all mortals unaware of the weight of his decision, unaware that his fate had just turned—not out of fear of the clergy’s command, nor any hidden agenda, but simply because he was weary of his repetitive, hopeless life: “What do you want me to do?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do as you normally do,” the boy replied humbly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I have brought my friends, companions, or their kin through this holy place more than once,” Longinus said. “Come with me.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since Skull Hill was called a hill, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre built atop it could not be flat and level like a ground-level palace; it was divided into three sections, arranged from low to high, and at the end of narrow, steep stairs lay a square plaza: “The Plaza of Suffering,” Longinus said. “The outer part.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The name meant it was where Jesus Christ suffered—the plaza held a circular hole, said to be the imprint left when the cross was driven into the ground; Jesus had once cried and prayed above it, begging God’s mercy, and the Virgin Mary, disciples, and believers had knelt and wept upon this very ground. Long ago, the clergy of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, under the guise of preserving sacred relics, built a rectangular structure to protect and conceal it—only those with sufficient power and wealth could enter; penniless commoners could only stand outside the pine doors, straining their necks, hoping to catch a fleeting glimpse of the holy trace through the occasional crack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some among them, seeing Longinus lead the boy, could not hide their disappointment. Longinus was cautious; though his actions were tacitly permitted by the clergy, he never grew arrogant—each day, he brought in only two or three pilgrims. With this boy present, today’s quota would be one less.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But look at this noble’s attire,” they whispered, “he doesn’t look like someone who can’t afford offerings.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar had never before seen people outside the castle. Those who came to pilgrimage were never truly destitute peasants or slaves—how could one afford food and travel expenses if one could not even fill one’s belly? Yet even so, their appearance and bearing could not compare to the humblest servants in the castle; if one must compare, they were like countless wild rabbits—furry, matted, eyes clouded, wary, hard to approach.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Longinus was long accustomed to the stares. He pushed open the heavy door for Cesar, shutting out the envious, hostile glances.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This place felt familiar to Cesar: walls of long stone slabs, a vaulted ceiling, faint light filtering through small windows, drowned by bright candlelight; exquisite tapestries hung on all sides, paintings of saints adorned the walls, banners and drapes hung from arched ribs. The only difference was a rough, exposed rock in the center of the mirror-smooth granite floor. No pilgrims were present now. Longinus led Cesar over. “Touch it,” he said, kneeling to feel the circular hole.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar did the same. But unlike the focused pilgrims and clergy, he thought of the young Isaacite—the one who came to save mankind, yet was betrayed and judged by his own people, executed like a thief, merely because he threatened the interests of Isaacite officials and elders. As he hung on the cross, what did he think? Did his faith still hold? If he still watched this world, and saw the clergy using his relics to plunder and extract wealth from believers, would he laugh—or rage?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind the small chapel of the Plaza of Suffering rose a wide, long staircase. At its summit stood a cedarwood door, guarded by two clergy. Beyond it lay a large crimson stone, bed-sized. Without Longinus’s explanation, Cesar guessed: this was the stone upon which the disciples laid Jesus after removing him from the cross; the Savior’s blood had soaked into it, making it a sacred relic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beyond the second hall, the true Holy Sepulchre lay. Ebony double doors opened into a domed chamber, within which stood a magnificent golden shrine—the tomb of Jesus Christ, originally belonging to a wealthy merchant who had donated it to the Savior. It was a narrow stone cave, barely large enough to believe—a stone could seal its entrance—the disciples had done just that. On the third day, after Christ’s resurrection and eleven manifestations, they opened the tomb and found only a burial shroud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now the shroud had been taken by the Roman Church. Here remained only the stone cavity, worn smooth by countless hands. Yet beneath silk and jewels, even ordinary grayish rock seemed exalted and glorious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Longinus drew back the brocade curtain, allowing Cesar to behold the final earthly dwelling of the Son of God.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar knelt and prayed silently, touched the smooth stone, then gently pressed his forehead against it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You have seen it now,” Longinus said seriously after guiding the boy—whose mere appearance could secure him a place in church or court—through the entire Church of the Holy Sepulchre. “My lord, I do not know why you made such a vow, but to cleanse the whole church by yourself will take immense time and energy. Your fingers will ache, your skin will blister, your fatigue will affect your work. I say, give me money—I will hire servants for you. When asked, I will proclaim your name.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His words sounded reasonable, but Cesar knew clearly: this man was merely fulfilling the role of a middleman. Not that he would break his word—but once he took the money, he would trade the privilege of leading pilgrims to sacred relics for free labor; every coin Cesar gave would vanish into the wandering knight’s pocket.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cesar would not condemn such a petty man, but he would not be manipulated, nor stray from his original purpose: “That won’t do,” he smiled. “I came here precisely to suffer.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked out of the church with Longinus, onto the plaza. The sky remained dark, but the pilgrims lingering on the stairs had awakened. They stared curiously at Cesar and Longinus. Longinus watched as the boy took from a servant a wooden pole wrapped with many scraps of cloth, and a waterskin. The boy sprinkled water on the rags, then began slowly sweeping from the first step.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What is this?” Longinus asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A mop,” Cesar replied. Before coming to the castle, floors were cleaned by maids kneeling to scrub with rags and sponges. He had not known that here, despite the existence of brooms, there was no trace of a mop—though mopping stone and wooden floors was far more efficient than hand-scrubbing. He had assumed some taboo forbade it, but when he had his servants make one, they immediately joyfully copied and used it—though before doing so, they had formally requested his permission.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Longinus wanted to ask more, but Zheshiyigechaoshengzhekaoleguolai 。 Tasuichuanzhejidutudeyizhuang ， Danzhiyaoxikan ， Youqishirulangjinusizhebanjianduoshiguangderen ， Yiyanbiannengkanchutashiyisaren —— Yesujidujiangshengyuyisarendebuluo ， Tabenyingchengweiyisarendezhanglaoshenzhiguowang ， Kexiyisarenmeiyounayangdezhihuiyuyuanjian ， Tamenxianhaibingshasilejiushizhu 。 Suiranzhezhengshihouzhebixujinglidekunan ， Danzuoweiguizishouyupantu ， Yisarenyixiangbeijidutuchoushiyupaichi 。\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Langjinusibingwunazhongchuncuidechouhen ， Tamieshiyisaren ， Quebuhuimieshitamendeqian 。\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“ Aiyaai ， Zhebushixieluokelaoxiongma ？” Tazouxiangnageyisaren ， Xiaoyinyindiwanzhunatiaofeishuodeshoubi 。\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>（ Benzhangwan ）\u003C\u002Fp>",2031,"2026-06-20T20:58:34.857Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","8552ef756adc9601afc85832631fad3f93f46d137801f0ace2695db4b3779775","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-15","the-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-chapter-13",168,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-nation-of-ten-thousand-nations-cover.jpg"]