The Medieval Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset

Chapter 74



The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 74

74. Cruel Glory

I had been thinking about the heathens across the sea.

As a man of the Church, I would inevitably clash with these heathens who worshiped Ise. Of course, it’s possible that with excellent diplomacy and persuasive words, we could win them over as allies…

But I suspect that the fundamental reason they raid is because their land is not bountiful. Literally nothing grows in their land, so they steal from others.

If this assumption is true, then war is inevitable. Of course, some may think that we should share our food with them in the spirit of warm tolerance and convert them. If possible, that would be a very warm and fuzzy story.

However, that kind of conversion is only possible when we have the power.

Even if they have a little bit of humanity, they are still people of a different race and a different religion. It would be overly optimistic to expect too much from people who are used to fighting with axes and cutting down people.

The era before modern Earth is not completely irrational, but it is true that they have a more primitive and barbaric sense of ethics than modern people.

Think about it. If you hit the head of someone who offers you food with an ax, why would you hesitate to take everything for yourself?

Even in modern times, there are criminals who do such things for profit, let alone in the Middle Ages and in this other world?

As an Earthling who has lived in the 21st century, I can say for sure.

The expectation that people will be grateful and convert after you give them a piece of bread is not even a fantasy. If you don’t want to get beaten up, take what you’re given and be grateful. That’s how the world works.

Besides, it will also alienate the locals.

What are these guys, giving our precious food to people who don’t even believe in our gods? This is likely to send the wrong signal to the enemy. They will probably think:

[Oh, they’re not pitying us, they’re just trying to appease us because they’re too weak to fight us.]

And then they look at each other and blink.

[Well… I guess we should hit them now?]

And then they’ll pull out the axes hanging from their waists.

As I’ve said many times, killing people is what they do.

You can’t even ask if warriors who pride themselves on killing would stoop so low.

Even modern 21st-century nation-states are full of hypocrisy and exploitation, so it would be foolish to expect more from these raiders who haven’t even formed a nation. Their honor lies in defeating the villagers, stealing their belongings, and sharing them with their families.

I can’t blame them for that.

The land is poor, agriculture is difficult, and they have to steal from others to feed their ever-growing families. I understand that they have become cruel because they have to kill those who get in their way in order to steal.

So…

They have to understand too.

The struggle of people who are desperate to protect their manager possessions, their lives, and the lives of their families.

Cruelty and cunning were not the sole prerogatives of the heathen barbarians.

***

King Athelstan thought back to those days when he had been a young man, serving as advisor to his lord and older brother, Athelbear.

His brother, whose face was prematurely lined with worry and whose hair had begun to gray at an early age, had often called Athelstan to him to unburden himself of the difficulties of kingship.

Most often, Athelbear confided in him while they practiced together with wooden swords.

“Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn’t have preferred the simple pleasures of studying and scribbling on documents.”

“That would be fun, wouldn’t it, brother!”

Athelstan, though the better swordsman by far, never failed to feign a crisis and allow Athelbear to come close to victory. Athelbear, quick-witted as he was, saw through this but was nevertheless touched by his brother’s desire to spare his feelings, and would often give him a wry smile.

“Yes, and it pains me to think that I shall never truly defeat you, since I have no time to practice because I am too busy playing at being a warrior.”

Athelbear and Athelstan were both cut from the same cloth.

They possessed equal natural ability as warriors, but one was a king burdened with the cares of his realm, while the other was a knight who focused only on training and warfare. This difference was painfully obvious whenever they spared, and Athelbear would often sigh with frustration.

“If only it were more enjoyable…”

“It must be the same for everyone, Your Majesty.”

There was only one thing that could ever convince Athelbear otherwise.

“Even for the greatest of men.”

“Yes… It must have been the same for all the great kings.”

All the great heroes and saints who had accomplished amazing feats had felt the same. Athelbear would always stop sighing and force a weary smile when he heard these words.

“Thank you, Athelstan.”

If there had not been a grain of truth in it, even these words would not have worked. But Athelstan truly believed it, and his heartfelt sympathy gave Athelbear a small measure of satisfaction.

But why now, he wondered.

Why was he remembering Athelbear’s complaints about how dull kingship could be?

“-Your Majesty. You must concentrate.”

He realized the reason the moment he looked into Narva’s gleaming eyes, which held a strange kind of joy.

Bishop of Powys, Narva.

His youngest son, whom he loved and cared for very much, but who caused him endless trouble with his eccentric behavior… had always been known as an odd character, even by the standards of the Powys bloodline.

“I am listening, Narva.”

“Very well. As I reported to Your Majesty, before I took the lead in the dissolution of the monasteries, the average amount of church tax paid by each parish in my diocese was around 102 marks. There was some variation depending on wealth, but even the richest paid no more than 30 marks. I believed this to be a reasonable figure, given that Powys has no particularly prosperous towns.”

“…”

“However, when I examined the records of the diocese of Barasta, I discovered that even regions which could well afford to pay more were not doing so. I investigated further and discovered that many of the monasteries were not functioning properly, and were simply being used as a way to avoid taxes and church dues. I therefore proceeded to dissolve as many of them as I could.”

“Hmm.”

Narva ignored King Athelstan’s uncomfortable grunt and continued speaking.

“In the process, we donated some of the monasteries’ accumulated wealth to the surrounding villages, returned the monks to secular life to increase our manpower, and obtained several structures that could be used as fortresses. The Church will also see a modest increase in its disposable income, with the average amount of tax paid by each parish now estimated to be around 200 marks…”

“Ugh.”

“Your Majesty?”

It was only when Athelstan, unable to bear it any longer, clutched his throbbing forehead that Narva reacted.

Then, with an expression of mock surprise, he said,

“Oh dear, I forgot to explain what I meant by ‘parish’. My apologies, Your Majesty. A parish is a unit that I have arbitrarily defined by grouping together six or seven of the 34 parishes in the diocese of Powys, taking into account geographically and economic factors. There are five parishes in total, and in order to make up for the shortage of clergy caused by the defrocking of the monks, we will create and operate a team of itinerant priests…”

He talked even more as he went on.

King Athelstan realized this and pursed his lips, inwardly complaining.

“How could such a man be born under the glorious and valiant knightly lineage of Povis? Even my Edred, who was considered eccentric, is more tolerable than this… How could someone even worse be born from my seed!”

Unlike King Athelstan, who was groaning in pain, the two men with sparkling eyes were the problem.

Edred, who had always lamented the ignorance and vulgarity of the family, and even Sir Aubert, his aide and intelligence officer, applauded Narva’s long explanation.

Clap, clap, clap.

“Well done, young master. No… Your Excellency. The moment I ask how to secure resources, you explain it like a magpie.”

“At first, I thought you disliked it because of what happened at the monastery, but you think a lot. Maybe the curiosity that should have gone to Tervere went to you instead.”

Still, judging by the atmosphere, this was an escape from this long hell.

That was the moment when King Athelstan had a vain hope.

“Then what do you think about the future political and military situation?”

‘Aubert…!!!!’

From Noble mtl dot com

Sir Aubert, the intelligence officer.

Sometimes, he had a fatal flaw of not being able to look around him because he was immersed in his passion. Athelstan had never felt that flaw as much as he did today.

The problem was Narva in front of him.

Narva glanced around the group with obsidian eyes that held a sharp glow, then uttered words that no one had expected.

“Ultimately, the Principality of Penrad must fall.”

“…?”

Even King Athelstan, who had been rubbing his forehead with his index finger and closing his eyes, raised his head.

Unexpectedly.

Aubert, who had asked the question, and Edred, who had shown great curiosity, all looked flustered. Athelstan asked the question before the other two could speak.

“Narva, what are you talking about? You told everyone in the audience hall that we should support them, but here you say they must fall?”

It was an unimaginable statement, considering that the Principality of Penrad was a compatriot who followed the starlight of humanity.

Moreover, Bishop Narva of Povis was a figure of the church.

Even if it was nonsense, someone who should not have even uttered the defeat of the Principality of Penrad was arguing that the Principality of Penrad should be defeated.

And as if he had anticipated this reaction, Narva tapped the table with his fingers as if waving them.

“Your Majesty. And the two of you here. Why do you think the pagans are coming? Revenge? Or to restore the gods of another world?”

“That…”

If he were a man of the church, he would say it was for the return of another world.

However, despite belonging to the church, Narva’s judgment, which looked at the situation, was extremely mundane.

“They are not coming for faith, but for this land. Because the place where they live is hard to live in.”

“Then isn’t that a good thing? If only we could convince people that they do not serve the devil.”

“That’s why negotiation is impossible. What they ultimately want is the life we live. They have nothing, so they are trying to eat what others have.”

Also.

“So, let’s give them something to protect. Instead, let’s make it so that they can get it as much as they want. So that they realize that it is very difficult and hard to deal with us… and while doing so, let’s induce Yubas, who has inevitably faced the pagans, to realize that it is useless to convert, and let’s make them desperately exhaust their national power.”

Finally.

“Let’s let the pagans, who have taken the land of the Principality of Penrad, know that it is much more profitable for them to aim at their neighbors, who are more unsuspecting than us.”

He did not hesitate to make cruel arguments.

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