It is true that there are not many people who have access to the vast library of the Church, and it is a privilege and an honor to have unrestricted access to literature.

Perhaps it is because of the general education that makes them more aware of the scarcity and fragility of knowledge. From the first missionaries to the beaches of the kingdom to the 100 years since the inauguration of the Cathedral of Our Lady, the production and collection of texts by organizations and private individuals has not stopped.

Many people with ecclesiastical backgrounds have a similar habit of collating and translating ancient books or recording various contents. Historical literature, poetry and repertoire, folk culture, medical remedies, and even all kinds of trivial things, it depends on personal habits.

Because they are not systematic, these things are complex and fragile, like a beautiful large piece of glass, which can easily be lost in an accident or a change in family circumstances, and scattered into a cultural vacuum that does not know its value.

But there is always a part that is collected, such as the book's deathbed donation to the faith, the shopping results of a particular monk, and the church itself as a rich source, and the quantity becomes considerable.

Even a lot of content that "can easily lead the unfirm mind of the lamb astray" is kept on file for later use.

Of course, trickle-down may not always merge into a river, and it is more likely that the drainage will not be smooth and gather into a backwater pool; Cell division does not necessarily mean that the body grows, and disorderly proliferation can only be called tumors.

The church's collections are closer to the latter, or the later ones. After all, it is very difficult to allocate redundant personnel to do a long, unguaranteed sorting and classification work, and in fact, it is not easy to barely complete maintenance.

It's like a huge reservoir, the caretaker only cares about pouring water into it, doesn't pay attention to cleaning it, and doesn't even necessarily check what he's pouring into it.

For those who are trying to dig out useful content from it, it cannot be said to be a needle in the sea, but only a pit butterfly.

And Green found himself the man standing on the shore with a sampan.

"Are you here to return the book?" The scribe glanced at the condensed version under the man's arm, and continued to bow his head to transcribe the contents of an old book verbatim.

"No, it's my own." Green tucked away the books, which he had left over from when he was still studying for his theology degree, and it was as good as new, "I'm here to find books." ”

The monk who works as a part-time administrator naturally has the temperament of preferring to communicate with books to people, and has no intention of hindering or providing convenience, "Please." ”

Behind it is a space much larger than the courtroom's evidence room, with rows of shelves resting on support columns, and various carriers of text are unevenly placed above.

If I'm not mistaken, I also saw the engraving inside, not the rubbing, but the original that I don't know if it was removed from the building or what object, so I found a vacant place to put it.

Before I came, I thought it was best to keep a low profile, find relevant information and leave, but now I think that I should be overestimating my own level.

The book in my hand that I have been reviewing for two or three days is not even a table of contents.

Forced by the situation, the priest of the Inquisition gave up his intention to settle the matter on his own, and asked in a low voice, "Where should I go if I want to find books related to the early kingdom?" ”

The scribe finished copying the last letter of the word, lifted his pen and rested it on the edge of the inkwell beside him, stretched out his free hand to the rear, and swept sideways over the entire stack as Green thanked him for pointing the way.

"I'm sure you'll find something of interest on most of the bookshelves, just like picking up a conch on every beach."

Yes, and then I wasted my life counting the sand on the beach like you. Green muttered to himself.

He should have thought that the people who could appear here were all those who were stunned by the demons, and they had developed a distorted fetish for reading dusty words and a sense of superiority based on this, so that they lost the ability to integrate into normal social interactions, so they would be sent over.

It not only solves the need to manage the library, but also solves the trouble of employment for these people, which is to torture the people who come to find books.

In Green's view, these people were closer to the most obsessed scholars than monks, or there was no clear line between the two.

But he didn't express his opinion, just interrupted the other party's tendency to continue to immerse himself in his own world in time, "I want to find some books about the noble family, the sooner the better, do you have any recommendations?" ”

"The sooner the better?"

The scribe touched the top of his head, which had not been taken care of for a long time and had regrown his short stubble hair, and called out among the bookshelves, "Hey, who's who, someone wants to check the family tree, the early kind." ”

Another, similar, but more unkempt-looking, creature emerged from the depths of the stacks, beckoned to the visitor, and walked in without saying a word.

Green was stunned for a moment before he realized that it was probably meant to keep up, and strode across the pages of paper spread out on the ground to dry.

In a very private corner of the library, a modest desk enjoys all the sunlight cast by the round window, a pile of paper manuscripts, a few old books in a haphazard and unstable position, and ink that has not been closed.

In the time he was tidying up, Green leaned in to take a look at the names and patterns strung together by tree-like lines, traced with a thin brush, and embellished with self-painted decorative patterns of people and animals, which were very delicately done.

Some of them have been colored, making them a readable and aesthetically pleasing atlas, and the tinkling of the full purse suggests that he is getting a good deal of money from those who care about it.

"It's just to make ends meet." The monk's explanation was not very convincing, "Which family in the kingdom do you want to know?" ”

"I don't dare to say the whole kingdom, at least I can say a few words about the land and surname by the Tem."

"All?"

"Well, it's not that exaggerated, at least it has to be a little famous, and it can't be the kind of country farmer who can't even find the coat of arms."

"That's good." Green nodded, realizing that professional things should be left to professional people, and it still made sense to raise a group of people who specialized in a seemingly meaningless subject.

"Which family would you like to know about?"

"Don't worry, can I ask your name?"

"You can call me Marco."

"Okay, Marko, now in the name of the Inquisition, I ask you to swear that the contents of the next inquiry will be kept absolutely confidential, and not even half a word will be allowed to be divulged intentionally or unintentionally, otherwise the soul will fall into hell and be burned by the flames forever until the day of judgment comes."

The priest put on a straight face, and his judgment-like tone, blessed by his identity, reached the point of fear, "This is to avoid being used by the enemy of God to make us fall into irreparable guilt." ”

"Huh?" The monk was first startled by the sudden seriousness, and then realized that he had no right to refuse, "Yes, I swear, only we and the Father will know what is going on here. ”

"Very well, remember, I just came to you today to talk to you about the scandal of a certain family, and nothing happened."

"Yes, yes." The monk who was hit by the flying calamity should have been in the hope that the terrible fellow of the Inquisition would be sent away sooner, and at the same time guessed which unlucky surname was going to be targeted.

"So which family do you want to know about the bloodline?"

"The royal family."

"Huh?" The impatient, tangled and painful expression on his face, which he had to do because of the situation, froze for a moment, showed bewilderment, and finally turned to a kind of awe out of misunderstanding.

"I didn't expect you to be interested in this, but I'm afraid it's a question that doesn't have a perfect answer."

"Why?"

"The royal family is very rich, and the most complex heraldic surface at the end even needs dozens of divisions, and the branches connecting the main trunk and the crown are ...... I'm ashamed to say that there are a lot of them that haven't been clearly depicted. ”

It seems that the professor may be right, at least partially. Green was noncommittal and motioned for the other party to continue.