Father Mavie

Chapter 242 Praise (please subscribe!!!)
Snowflakes were flying, and Tyumen City ushered in the second heavy snow. This year, the cold wave from the extreme north was more intense than previous years. The knee-deep snow covered the Romanov Kingdom, and it was still spreading to the south.

The refugees huddled up in the wooden shed, wrapped in blankets of different colors, wearing all the clothes to keep out the cold, and huddled against the wall to avoid the cold of the wind and snow.

Food is no longer a problem for them. Two pounds of bread and two bowls of oatmeal per day are enough to fill their stomachs, but the new year has just begun, and there is always something missing in their mouths just eating bread and oatmeal.

The nobles don't think so. In their eyes, it is good enough to give you bread. You are not grateful to Dade, and you want to eat more food?
What a joke!
Now that the trade routes have been cut off, sugar has become a valuable item, let alone meat. Even if there is no war, civilians and serfs can't eat meat a few times a week, and vegetables are even less pitiful.

Countless serfs known as "gray cattle" were willing to join the army and were called cannon fodder on the battlefield. It was entirely because of the soldier ration policy reformed by Peter the Great that soldiers in the army could get two pounds of black bread, one pound of meat, half a pound of vodka and two pounds of vodka every day. Beer, a monthly quota of two pounds each of salt and sugar, tea, vegetables, and grains are all available. The higher the military rank, the more daily rations they receive.

Thanks to this, the serfs are willing to join the army. Not only can they have a bright future and cross classes, but they can also fill their stomachs. Why not do it?
Of course, how much of the specified amount of food can be put into the hands of soldiers depends entirely on the "conscience" of the food supervisor.

Under normal circumstances, soldiers can only get half of the fixed amount of food, even so, soldiers are still willing to join the army and work hard for the nobles.

Their idea is very simple, whoever has food can hang out with them.

Even if you die, you have to be a full ghost.

During the war, the rations of soldiers must be given priority. This is an unwritten rule, and everyone knows it well, but for refugees who are not worth much
It would be nice to give you two pounds of brown bread and two big bowls of oatmeal, for the sake of the gods, otherwise.
Refugees can only eat gruel.

The refugees who knew this didn't have too much hope. Many people were eating black bread, talking and laughing, talking about when the kingdom would be able to repel the enemy, and their emotions were still positive.

A scent of meat suddenly caught their attention.

At some point, the smell of broth wafted from the street. The refugees leaning against the corner wheezed their noses and bit the bread hard. They closed their eyes and chewed vigorously, as if what they were eating was not bread, but a piece of bread. Chunks of roast beef sprinkled with spices.

The local residents of Qiumen City can still eat meat occasionally, and they can often smell the meat, so it is naturally a perfect condiment for bread.

Unless the evil nobles don't even let them smell the fragrance
But the exclamation of a refugee caught everyone's attention. The refugees who gnawed on the bread opened their eyes and saw a lot of people gathered in front of the relief shed where the bread was supposed to be distributed, and the fragrance came from there.

"Don't worry! Everyone is lined up!" Christopher took a big spoon and knocked on the deep iron pot.

"It's cold, Father Marvie pays for it himself, and treats us to broth!"

Christopher shouted: "There are hot milk, cheese and sour cream with sugar on the side! Don't grab them! According to the order, the workers, the elderly, the weak, women and children will receive them first!"

The matter of the Church of Truth distributing broth and dairy products suddenly caused an uproar. The refugees suddenly felt that the bread in their hands was not fragrant, and they all got up and flocked to the relief shelter, watching Christopher pick up a piece of bread from the steaming pot and stew it. The soft and rotten beef couldn't help swallowing.

There's nothing more comforting than a bowl of broth on such a cold winter's day.

What's more, this morning, the believers of the Church of Truth also explained to them the benefits of dairy products. Young children must supplement nutrition if they want to be strong. Eating bread alone will not grow strong!
"Long live Father Marvie!" someone yelled.

Christopher, who was ladling the soup, stopped and looked around: "Who is shouting long live? The goddess should be praised!"

"Praise the goddess!" Many people shouted in unison.

As bowls of broth were handed out, the shouts became more and more intense. Whether they received it or not, they would shout a few words along with others. At this moment, the praise came from the heart.

Standing in front of the window, Dino's distressed cheeks were distorted. There are so many refugees in Tyumen City, and Ma Wei still requires everyone to eat meat. Make it!

It was also the first time that Dino realized that the money he earned in the past was not spent at all. He already belonged to the upper class, but he had a lot of money, and he was able to distribute broth to the refugees for three days through careful planning, and he still owed a lot to the farmers. What about the final payment!
"Father, priest, if there is no new capital inflow within three days, we will go bankrupt," Dino murmured with trembling lips.

On the other side, King Paul I, who heard that the Church of Truth had started distributing broth and dairy products, turned himself into a master of desktop cleaning, and pushed all the documents to be signed on the table down, his eyes darkened with anger.

He has tried his best to find ways to provide food for the refugees and steal money from the pockets of the nobles. If he still wants to compete with the Church of Truth
Can the nobles agree?
Not at all realistic!
"Your Majesty, you don't need to be so excited."

Archbishop Henry, who also received the news, rushed to the temporary office and said to the furious Paul I: "The Church of Truth will not last long. They are a small church with insufficient foundation. How long can they last? In my opinion, it will not take a few days. They're out of money and the situation is still in our hands."

Paul I gradually calmed down. He hugged Ke Lulu, stroking the soft hair and muttering: "Don't we need to do something?"

"Not for the time being." Archbishop Henry said, "Let's wait and see for a few days. If the Church of Truth shows no signs of bankruptcy, it's not too late for us to find a countermeasure."

"I'm afraid that they will be funded by other forces."

"It is impossible for them to get help from other churches." Archbishop Henry said with a smile: "Believers are the most important thing. Even if the Judgment God Sect and the Abundance God Sect try to trick them, they cannot support the Church of Truth. This is too stupid ,unless."

"Unless what?"

Archbishop Henry lost his eyes slowly: "Unless the power of the Church of Truth is funded, it is not the Church, but other people. Well, I think the Church of Truth should not be so stupid to accept funding from those people."

"What are you talking about?" Paul I looked at him puzzled, "Do you know who might fund the Church of Truth?"

"Freedom Association, Your Majesty, they are the common enemy of all churches." Archbishop Henry stroked his beard, "If the Church of Truth seeks their help, they will become the target of public criticism, and traitors will not be tolerated."

(End of this chapter)