The Medieval Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset

The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 67

67. The Convent of Saint Ariata

Just because it’s a place where monks gather doesn’t mean that it’s always filled with silence.

This was especially true for a place where young nuns of an age when they were very interested in the world gathered. The faint sound of bells awakened the curiosity that had been dormant beneath the cold stone building.

‘I heard that the Bishop is coming this time.’

‘So what? He’s just an old man, right?’

‘You’re obviously not well-informed. I heard that the Bishop this time is just an adult.’

‘That young? Being a Bishop isn’t something just anyone can do, you know?’

The young nuns chatted away as they walked under the stained glass, their voices echoing. Among them, the part that caught their attention was the age of the new Bishop. Certainly, the new Bishop was out of the ordinary in many ways.

Especially considering that the position of Bishop is usually held by those in their 40s or 50s with experience and knowledge. The nuns who were interested in this surprised were to learn about the background of the new Bishop.

‘He’s the third son of His Majesty the King. He’s also a Stigmata bearer.’

‘Wow…’

‘When you see this, you can understand why the Mother Superior is forbidding it.’

Not all nuns enter the order out of religious conviction. Quite a few entered because they had no choice due to their family circumstances or because they were cast out due to inheritance disputes.

With this kind of background, it was a closed community life where they weren’t even allowed to meet the opposite s*x. It was only natural that they would dream beyond the frustration that built up.

The nuns who still had lingering attachments to the secular world had dark hopes as they looked at the young Bishop, who was at the age when he would be full of vigor.

In a world where noble status meant having multiple mistresses and it was impossible to openly criticize them, in an era where even priests secretly fathered illegitimate children, the fact that he was a young boy from a noble family made their hearts flutter.

However, it was a vain dream that lasted less than half a day.

The young nuns sighed as they recalled the firmness of the Mother Superior, who had ordered them to stay away.

‘The Mother Superior is also very perceptive. She must have warned us not to meet him no matter what. And she only made an exception for Miriam…’

‘Only Miriam? Did they meet?’

‘To be exact, with Enon. That’s why the older sisters are making such a fuss…’

The rule that they couldn’t meet the opposite s*x of a similar age paradoxically inflated their desires.

‘I wonder what the new Bishop looks like?’

‘Since he’s a noble, won’t he be very fair?’

The young nuns added their own fantasies to the rumors of the new bishop, chattering excitedly. If the Abbess of Saint Arietta’s Convent had seen them, she would have been aghast.

The Abbess herself had been depressed when she met the new bishop.

“Hmm.”

“…”

Her heart pounded with every glance, every gesture. Beneath her graying hair, the Abbess desperately forced a gentle smile, hiding her agitation and worry.

For she knew the epithet that described the raven-haired boy with sharp eyes and a piercing gaze that seemed to see right through people, as he flashed them a meaningful smile.

Narva Orn Stregose Foivos.

The first convert on the morning of the archipelago, a descendant of the Foivos family, and a Stigmata bearer. A ruthless hammer of the Holy See, who wielded his authority with aristocranic flair, crushing any opposition without hesitation.

And… the Sickle of Faith.

The Abbess swallowed hard as she recalled one of his many aliases.

‘He ruthlessly abolishes monasteries that fall short of standards.’

In the Diocese of Narva, dozens of monasteries had been abolished by Narva’s hand. Originally, the Church had been lenient in establishing monasteries, as they could hide genuine relics, but even that was not enough for Narva.

He stripped any religious community that failed to fulfill its function. He stripped monks of all their privileges, reducing them to serfs and distributing them to nearby manors, while their property was divided among the surrounding lords.

Even the nobles who patronized the monasteries remained silent, unable to speak out against the direct intervention of the head of the Church.

Now, the existence and abolition of the Convent of Saint Arietta depended solely on Narva’s whim.

And Narva was not sitting still in the reception room, but was restlessly pacing around, examining everything.

“Abbess, the stained glass is magnificent.”

“I, is it?”

“I wonder who the glassworker was. How much did it cost?”

“The previous, well. It was the work of the previous Abbess, so I’ll have to check the records.”

“The previous?”

“I am old, so it is only natural.”

Even the transience of time, which she usually lamented, now seemed like a blessing. The Abbess fervently wished for the convent to continue to exist even after her death. After all, the nuns were constantly exposed to marauders and men with sinister intentions.

For a helpless widow, remarriage was the easiest way to find protection. It was hard to imagine what hardships the young nuns here would face if their status as nuns, guaranteed by the Church, were to disappear.

The only saving grace for the Abbess was that there was someone else who could restrain this fearsome bishop.

Karina, the platinum-blonde girl with waist-length hair. She had defiantly interrupted Narva’s tyranny with her sleepy eyes.

“Your Grace should refrain from speaking so much.”

“Excuse me?”

“You may not intend it, but people cannot help but misunderstand because of your position and background.”

“?”

Narva glared at her as if to say, ‘You’re the one to talk,’ but the Abbess roared vigorously in her heart. Narva, who seemed to sense this unspoken agreement, clicked his tongue and took a step back.

“I suppose I am a little irritable because the person I was expecting has not arrived. So, when will Miriam and her sister arrive?”

It was difficult to discern the clear outlines of the tangled rumors surrounding Narva, but there was one common assessment:

This young bishop was unusually impatient. Unlike others who were more easygoing, he would openly display his displeasure if even a moment was delayed.

The Abbess had heard the rumors and had moved up the schedule as much as possible, but she had not expected it to be this bad.

“M, Miriam is probably collecting and moving the laundry by now. Her sister, Enone, is studying the scriptures…”

“Bring them. Now.”

“Ye… Yes, Your Grace. They must finish their duties as members of the convent.”

At that moment, Narva tapped his forehead with the index finger of his right hand and let out a chilling aura.

“Their duties are more important than my time?”

“Your Grace, if you speak that way, people will misunderstand.”

Karina tried to persuade the Mother Superior, who had turned deathly pale, by glancing at her furtively, but the response was chillingly cold.

“What do you think, Mother Superior? If I don’t go now, I’d like to take advantage of the remaining free time to have a good look around this convent.”

***

In some ways, it was as I expected.

Miriam Orn Yubas was a woman of noble descent who had fallen on hard times. If this had been Yubas territory, she would have received patronage as a matter of course, but this was the territory of Powys, a potential hostile force.

Not only did she have no powerful force to back her up, but she was also more beautiful than average, and although she lied and said she was her sister, anyone who knew anything would know. That the child Enon was her own.

In addition to her unhideable flaws, she was of noble birth and could not do housework properly. From the point of view of the nuns, she was a useless person who could not do anything properly, despite her beautiful face.

It was obvious how such a person would be treated in a closed community.

“Oh my… Look at that hand.”

“…”

Miriam Orn Yubas looked quite haggard in my indifference. Her characteristically warm brown eyes had lost some of their warmth. The inside of her sleeve, which she had slightly revealed when she sat down just now, was bruised.

Karina’s eyes filled with tears at the hardships she had endured and she reached out to hold her hand, but Miriam herself was embarrassed and awkward, and she just stood there stiffly.

Below her, a little girl who was now taller than Miriam’s waist was staring at me.

Karina fussed over Miriam’s hand like that for a while.

Miriam, who had been keeping a quiet silence, carefully opened her mouth.

“Is there a reason you have come to see me?”

Four years. It was enough time for our positions to change.

Miriam had fallen to being a mere nun and was exhausted from waiting without hope, and I had been so busy running around like crazy for four years that I had only remembered her existence much later.

If Edelred hadn’t been secretly taking care of her, I probably wouldn’t have remembered her until after she was found dead.

It couldn’t be helped… Even in [Fantasy Monarch], it was rare to memorize every character. It was a habit to put useless things out of my mind and not care whether they lived or died, so using elements outside the design was actively difficult.

What is this long excuse trying to say? The fact that I remembered Miriam is proof that she has become useful.

I smiled at Miriam’s question and smiled slowly.

“The one next to me is Karina de Bien Magister Tribunus Norpeng. She is a bearer of the Stigmata and a member of the royal family of the mainland.”

“The royal family of the mainland…”

Miriam flinched when she heard Karina’s origin, and tried to pull her hand away.

“If you’re aiming for Yubas, she’s someone you should get close to.”

“Your Grace, if you say that, how can we become friends? I don’t have any friends?”

My simple and materialistic statement seemed to grate on Karina’s nerves. Perhaps it was because she had a beautiful sense of consciousness that friends, regardless of status and background, should be true-hearted.

However, it was more than enough to convince Miriam at least.

Miriam, who had been trying to pull her hand away, suddenly changed her mind and held Karina’s two hands tightly.

“Miriam Orn Yubas. The second daughter of Yubas, and if given the opportunity, a witness who will testify to their heretical acts within.”

“Yes? What?”

“Karina… You have a noble and virtuous heart, as befits a noble.”

“Oh?”

It’s not a bad thing that friends start out with materialistic motives. It’s just the motive, and later on, they can become truly close. I ignored Karina, who kept going “Oh?” and “Oh?” and tilting her head.

From here on, it was a matter of Miriam’s desperation and diplomacy.

While I’m here, I might as well look through the records in the library and see if there’s anything I can find…. I was thinking that.

From Noble mtl dot com

Pinch.

I felt someone pinch the leg of my precious pants.

As my gaze lowered, Enon, a chubby little girl who resembled Miriam, looked up at me with sparkling eyes. The moment I tried to ignore her expectant gaze…

“…Daddy?”

“Let’s go!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I found myself shouting like a madman at a child.

If the Mother Superior hadn’t intervened, I would have punched her in the face.

“Yes, yes! E, Enon will be in my care, so why don’t you go and see the relics that our order is protecting?!”

“Relics?”

“Y, yes. I’ll tell you the old legend that our order has passed down. How does that sound?”

“Hmm…”

Come to think of it, Carina’s original purpose was to distinguish the rank of relics.

If the condition for distinguishing the rank of relics is the manifestation of Stigmata… wouldn’t I be able to do it too?

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