The Medieval Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset

The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 32

32. If I Can’t Even Speak

It has been a week since I pledged to my father and family that I would work hard.

A week ago, as soon as I had an interview with the bishop, I accepted the proposal from the Pope, but I did not expect much. I thought it would take a long time because the Holy See was far from the Holy City of Idea .

However, it seems that giving the inheritance I received early, the duchy’s right to appoint, to the Pope as a candidate for the patriarch was worthwhile. I got dressed and went to see the bishop because he called me in the morning breeze, and there was a gift.

“This is the answer from His Holiness.”

“Already?”

I stumbled and received the letter handed to me by the bishop wearing spectacles. The letter was sealed with bright blue candle wax that looked like glitter powder sold in an old stationery store.

I turned the letter over several times and couldn’t help but speak in a trembling voice.

“I heard that it takes a long time to get to the mainland by boat from the Holy City of Idea. No matter how much you rush it, there’s no way a reply could have come already.”

“hehehehe.”

“…Were you prepared?”

After a moment’s hesitation, I decided to ask bluntly. I don’t like beating around the bush in the first place. I’m the kind of guy who eats apple peels because I’m too lazy to peel them.

Bishop Ganista frowned at my blunt response and slowly nodded.

“The Holy See always keeps an eye on influential nobles in areas outside the succession line in order to secure the right to appoint. In addition, there are those who follow the cause of the Church rather than the power of the world. The priests under Bishop Powis are no exception.”

“I don’t like to say this, but it’s a bit sinister. Besides, it’s too vague to be the reason for the quick reply.”

“Espionage and tolerance are like that. Just know that the mainland was preparing for this. There is a good reason for it.”

“Ah, yes.”

I cut him off because it seemed like the story was going to get long. It’s probably an argument that the church is protecting mankind from the old gods and pagans of the other world.

Moreover, looking at what they were doing, I thought I knew why there was a bad relationship between the church and the secular monarchs. If this guy is watching what you’re doing in a sinister way and writing down heresy…definitely. ..burning…who could like him?

Instead, I turned my attention to the letter. It was a direct letter from the Holy See sealed with bright blue candle wax. Then the bishop opened his mouth with a slightly surprised expression.

“Are you going to open the papal bull here?”

“We’re already in the same boat, so what does it matter?”

What’s more, what is a papal bull? It seems to be a very old-fashioned way of calling a direct letter from the Holy See. Well, I guess that’s how authority is built, with each of those words.

I scratched the candle wax with my fingernail and opened the letter. The contents of the letter were roughly as follows:

“To enter the priesthood at the age of twelve, appropriate qualifications are required, so a miracle examination will be conducted.”

I blinked several times, thinking I had read it wrong. I looked up and glared at Bishop Ganista, who was laughing in front of me.

“You said I didn’t have to study?”

“It seems that Your Highness has misunderstood. You don’t have to study, that’s right. You don’t take the exam, no.”

I didn’t lie, but I hate people who cheat like that. Fortunately, the Middle Ages is a time when you can take matters into your own hands instead of filing a complaint with the police who just take their paychecks and wait to get off work.

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The moment I turned to get the sword I had left in the room.

“It is a test to determine the authenticity of the stigmata. It is a test for which Your Highness does not need to open a book.”

Hmm. It seems that the explanation was simply delayed. I felt embarrassed and blamed the bishop for nothing.

Say it straight. I almost became a murderer with no good reason.

I looked back at the bishop, trembling.

“You should have told me that first. You’re confusing people.”

“Of course, you should memorize a few passages from the scriptures to testify to your faith.”

—

“….”

***

Every event has its reasons. What may seem foolish to others could be a serious matter to oneself.

Fortunately, the miracle examination led by the Vatican had a reason that even outsiders could understand. Bishop Ganista briefly explained why such an examination was necessary.

“There are those who forge stigmata. Some are merely cuts made by a knife, or in the worst cases, they claim that magic bestowed by demons of another world is a miracle of Lux Stella.”

Most of the time, if a local church brings a relic, the issue is resolved. Even the 12th-grade relic we brought from the monastery is enough to expel the power of another world, which is to be expected.

However, the story changes with truly powerful forces from another world. The surviving old gods and pagans of another world have evolved in ways to avoid the church’s pursuit as much as possible.

Their ultimate goal is to infiltrate the church’s leadership by disguising themselves as miracles of Lux Stella.

“It’s the same even if they’re not pagans. There have often been cases where individuals canonize themselves or are promoted for political reasons or to elevate their own authority. That’s why today’s miracle examinations and canonizations of saints are carried out so thoroughly.”

In the old days, when the criteria for sainthood were vague, anyone could claim to be a saint. As a result, over a thousand years, the church has made the criteria and procedures for designing saints very stringent.

After saying this, the bishop looked down at me with quite excited eyes.

“It’s very rare for the Vatican’s direct miracle examination team to move just because stigmata have manifested. This is a very exceptional case.”

“Hmm.”

Wasn’t this so-called cushy job being discussed too openly? Such doubts were crossing my mind.

“Let me give you a hint… The miracle examination team moves only for a worthy cause. For example, unless someone who has stepped on the path to sainthood appears, they do not act.”

“Ah.”

That’s when I realized why I had to undergo the miracle examination. It wasn’t just a simple test. Rather, it was an exercise of the Vatican’s influence under the guise of a test.

And it was also the reality behind their promise to support me fully if I handed over the right of appointment. The Vatican was intent on presenting me, a third son from a venerable family with manifested stigmata, as their definitive figurehead.

Even if they couldn’t canonize me as a saint right away, they could play the media by saying, “This guy has a high chance of becoming a saint in the future~”. It would be a powerful weapon when pulling down Bishop Porvius , who had failed to manifest his stigmata.

The current bishop, who manipulates without manifesting stigmata, versus me—a twelve-year-old who has manifested stigmata and is certified by the Vatican, not to mention being of royal blood.

It was clear who would win this fight.

Moreover, it was perfect for revealing that the Vatican had chosen me not just for political reasons. By emphasizing that I passed the miracle examination, they could avoid criticism that the Vatican’s appointment standards were no different from those of secular monarchs.

Indeed, it was the Vatican. No one could easily approach the experience they had accumulated over a thousand years of squabbling with secular monarchs.

But even this seemingly perfect method had one fatal flaw.

“…Aren’t we provoking Yubas too much?”

This was nothing less than a moving declaration of war, though without any soldiers. It was a death sentence for Yubas’s ambitions towards our duchy and the worst possible revenge that a forsaken outcast could take without an army.

After all, considering that I had received my father’s inheritance earlier and would serve the Vatican loyally as their confidant, it was enough to make Yubas faint.

However, Bishop Eleniput of Ganista, upon hearing my concerns, displayed a sinister smile.

“hehehe.”

He wasn’t laughing out of joy. The bishop was venting his boiling anger through laughter.

“I’m actually looking forward to them making a move. While we can’t publicly discuss matters related to another world, we can certainly criticize any interference with the miracle examination.”

“Hmm.”

Certainly, the Vatican had the ability to apply pressure in all directions when the opportunity arose. However, from my perspective as a player of [Fantasy Monarch], several disappointing aspects stood out.

It could be because they were originally a religious organization, or perhaps they lacked experience in devising certain types of schemes.

Normally, I would use these shortcomings to disrupt the grand plans of my opponents.

“Bishop, let’s not end it here. Let’s try to improve it further.”

We were going to be in the same boat for a long time, so it was my turn to help, even if just a little.

***

Having reached an understanding with the bishop, I headed to the restaurant where our party was waiting. I had intended to casually gather some plausible opinions over dinner… but then I realized.

Our ignorant knights and John could never understand this complex matter.

—

No matter how gently I tried to explain it, they were the kind of people who considered memorizing lines of text as torture, so they were only interested in enjoying their meal. At least the knights who valued etiquette and status pretended to listen.

John held the hard bread plate in both hands, stuck out his tongue, and licked it like a dog.

“Wow. Deeelicious. Dee-li-cious, yumm.”

“…”

Unfortunately, the food culture of this place was as diverse and varied as it was in the Middle Ages, but it just happened to resemble the most primitive side. I had deliberately ignored the reality that the Middle Ages were barbaric because I didn’t want to be prejudiced against them.

“Huh? Oh, Your Highness! The stew here is no joke! The flavor that has soaked into the plate is so extraordinary that it’s fun to lick it with my tongue!”

“Yeah. Eat as much as you want.”

There was no such thing as eating etiquette where you stabbed it with a fork and then cut it with a knife. All they had was a spoon.

The knights and John were all eating stew or soup in hard bread plates that were hard enough to break someone’s skull if you hit them with it, and they were eating it with spoons. It was only later that John, who was even too lazy to eat with a spoon, ate in a particularly dirty way.

The meat that was placed in the center of the table was torn apart by hand, just like the kimchi my grandmother used to tear apart and give me. At least it was comforting that there was a basin or towel to wipe your hands under the table .

The only one who ate cleanly and moderately here was Terbear. He even roughly understood what I said about “even rotten teeth are precious because they are the children of the king.”

“I don’t know the details, but I know that it’s something that will make Yubas angry.”

He was a top student among those who didn’t even listen. I began to understand a little bit how the homeroom teacher feels when they see the top student in a school trash.

“Narba, how do you think Yubas will react this time?”

It seemed that Terbear had put aside his prejudice about age after seeing the faces I showed him. He was a brother who was in the top 1% in the Middle Ages in terms of familial love and romance. I also respected Terbear and explained it to him as easily as possible.

“First of all, we’ll get rid of the most annoying people. From that moment on, we’ll start with the helpers who will become a great strength.”

But this calm explanation seemed to have touched Terbear’s pride. Terbear suddenly twitched his eyebrows and then burst into a hearty laugh as he looked around the dining room.

“hahahaha! Yubas with his colleagues? How dare he? Do you think you can easily defeat us, who have defeated dozens or hundreds of looters with just ten knights!”

Terbear’s laughter was like a plague. The knights who had been stuffing food into their mouths one after another began to put down their plates and spoons and laugh.

“Sir Terbear, it seems that His Highness has not yet heard our stories of bravery.”

“Ugh~. We should have some beer at a time like this.”

“Hohoho… It would be better to see it in person than to hear stories of bravery. Sir Terbear, how about giving His Highness a day of real-time experience?”

They said they would gather together, and that’s exactly what happened. Amidst the hearty laughter of the knights, Terbear looked at me with a confident face and patted his chest.

“Narba, don’t worry. The strongest knights in the Principality of Powys will protect you.”

Maybe I wasn’t the one who was most touched by these words, but John.

John, who had seen the stout knights, stopped messing around with the bread plate that had become soggy from licking it too much and put it down, and then he expressed his overwhelming emotions.

“They’re really strong. Your Highness, unless you bring an army, you’ll never be able to defeat this!”

“Ah.”

***

The noisy ringing of bells celebrated us exactly three days later. That was when we had been in Illinfoot for ten days.

And there was no one who could fall asleep even after hearing the sound of someone knocking on the door louder than a woodpecker. I opened the door with a slightly defensive feeling.

Beyond the open door, an apprentice priest with a complex whiter than rice paper was gesturing with sweat dripping down his face.

“Y, Yubas’ army has arrived. They said that cavalry appeared without being reported…”

“….”

I hate violence.

But at that moment, I thought that I should slap John in the face.

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