The Medieval-Modern Man with a Gamer Mindset

21. The Power of Faith

I was deep in slumber when it happened.

Suddenly, my body began to shake violently, and I could hear the sound of someone crying nearby. It sounded like a death wail. I forced my eyelids open, thinking I had somehow been transported back to the present.

“Master, what are we going to do?”

Sitting right next to me, John was bawling his eyes out. What was wrong with the boy? I was so taken aback that I couldn’t speak for a moment. I raised my hand and waved it dismissively, getting up.

“John, I’ve put up with your incessant whining ever since we came to the monastery, but now you’re disturbing my sleep? I swear, I’ll end your miserable existence with my own two hands!”

“Ah, ah! M-Master! This is no time for that!”

“Oh, really?”

I’d have to give him a good smack on the head if he kept spouting nonsense. With that in mind, I opened my ears, my expression stony. John, seeing my demeanor, gasped and whispered, unable to hide the tear stains on his face.

“The atmosphere in the monastery is strange. Something, something terrible is happening!”

“….”

There were two main reasons I had brought this annoying fellow with me. Firstly, it was rare to find a servant willing to follow me to the monastery, and secondly, because of his unique and uncanny ability to sense danger.

When John sensed a threat to his own well-being, he would become restless and extremely paranoid, even though he didn’t know the source of the threat. Perhaps he knew the reason but was unable to express it properly.

However, if one didn’t expect too much of him, he was a valuable asset. He was fiercely loyal, reasonably kind, and made no attempt to pry into my secrets. As a human alarm, I couldn’t have asked for better .

And now, this human alarm was blaring. I sensed the gravity of the situation and got up at once.

“Block the window if you can. Bring the candlestick too. We’ll use it as a last resort. You, grab a book and be ready to deflect any strikes sword.”

“W-won’t you run away?”

“Not yet.”

I couldn’t make any rash moves until I knew more about the situation. If I tried to escape clumsily and alerted the abbot, any future contact with the outside world would be impossible. Above all, it would be tantamount to throwing my own life away.

“John, you stay put as well. The fact that they’re causing a commotion at this hour suggests that they’re not here with good intentions.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Once you’re ready, we’ll wait for a while and see what’s going on outside.”

John and I decided to prepare for any eventuality. We overturned a table to block the door, tore up a blanket to make a rope, and lit the end of the candlestick with a candle. I gave John some advice on how to outsmart our potential attackers.

“When I knock them down, you throw that blanket over their head and strangle them. You have to choke them until they can’t breathe. Got it?”

“St-strangle?”

“What? Are you hesitating?”

“What’s strangling?”

“….”

I had to explain to him how to cut off someone’s air supply, and only then did he nod. We spent some time like this, preparing ourselves. After a while, I realized what it was that had made John so uneasy.

It is said that when one enters an abandoned house or a haunted house, one’s body shivers and feels cold. One cannot be sure whether there are really ghosts in the house, but one is convinced that something dangerous will happen if one stays there for long .

The particular atmosphere that lingers in places where people have stayed and then disappeared unnaturally. Clothes rustling in the eerie night air, a desolate chill hidden beneath them. To that, the sound of gurgling blood faintly echoed as it hit the wall.

I was certain. I nodded and broke the silence.

“That’s the sound of someone dying.”

“Someone?… In the monastery?”

“Do you think it’s easy for people to scream out loud when they’re dying? It is easy, of course.”

The screams of those who feel like they are going to die are different from the sounds they make right before they die. Both are equally creepy enough to send shivers down one’s spine. The important thing is the part about ‘feeling like’.

“They’re dying without being able to scream even once. If they had felt threatened, they would have tried to escape or defend themselves, somehow protecting their vital areas, mainly their face and neck. Judging from the silence, they caught the victim off guard.”

“How is that possible? If they came to kill, wouldn’t they be holding weapons?”

“Aren’t there plenty of people who usually carry weapons without arousing suspicion?”

John made a puzzled expression as if he had heard a riddle. Yeah, just living keep without knowing. Anyway, as I guessed, a massacre is happening inside the monastery right now.

The ones carrying out the massacre are fellow monks. I don’t know if it’s because their positions are different or if their interests are intertwined. I have a hunch… If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that my concerns were right.

The scheme of Yubas who is after my life.

Right now, this carnage unfolding in the monastery is the real main attack.

***

Once again, I silently applauded Yubas’ meticulousness.

The monastery surrounded by walls is safe from raids. The monks themselves are powerful warriors, making it easy to defend. So being inside the monastery would be safe. This common sense has lulled the opponent’s vigilance and led them to let their guard down.

In particular, they mostly aimed at the vague imagination that monks who are diligently practicing their faith, isolated from the secular world, would not be tempted by material desires.

The moment the inside and outside are reversed, the walls become bars that cut off outside help. The monks, who are powerful warriors, become a threat, and the vaguely imagined image of monks transforms them into excellent assassins.

Yubas… They’re impressive. You need consistent effort to be this despicable. They’re that sincere about expanding their power. However, I wasn’t just going to sit still and take it.

Especially when my life is at stake.

At that moment, the echo of life, the gurgling of blood, began to walk down the hallway and knock on the door. John, who was already scared, started chattering his teeth at the sound of something heavy leaning against the door and sliding down with a thud.

“hhhhh-holy moly.”

No matter how restrained, there was an unmistakable presence beyond the door. However, I wasn’t as flustered as John. That’s because the newcomer knocked on the door very politely.

Moreover, it was a familiar voice.

“Lord Narva. Are you safe?”

A monk with a plump face and a gentle voice, bearing a contrasting symbol. He maintained a calm and collected tone, proving that his swordsmanship skills were not ordinary.

There was no sign of his breathing being ragged either. I carried the luggage and stood between the door, exchanging words with the monk.

“Thanks to you. What about the attackers?”

“I see you’ve guessed the situation. It’s as if you already knew something like this would happen.”

“I told you, didn’t I? Why on earth did you lock me up? Are you telling me you really didn’t know that those who wanted me dead would make a move?”

“…Fellow monks. They were my brothers.”

Aha. You knew there would be an attack, but you didn’t know it would be by fellow monks? It’s funny how they think there’s no politicking within the monastery when they themselves have hit people in the back of the head because of politics.

I cut off the monk’s remorseful voice abruptly.

“They must have wanted to be above you, your brothers. Even in a monastery, there are positions and implicit statuses, so why wouldn’t they aim for it if they had the backing?”

“My lord, please stop mocking us. We should put aside our past grievances for now. Your Highness is in danger. I will guide you to the Chief, so please cooperate, however reluctantly.”

“If I die, His Majesty King Aethelstan will be furious.”

The monks who were persuaded by Yubas or Bishop Powys probably thought this way. They thought that before King Aethelstan’s anger, one of the two would take action. They must have thought that the monastery would remain safe that way.

It’s probably the opposite, with a high probability.

It is more likely that they will use King Aethelstan’s anger and the destruction of the monastery as a [pretext] to make a move. That way, it would be perfect for appeasing the backlash from the local church and winning their favor.

However, instead of reciting this fact in a roundabout way, I gave a much more certain answer.

“But Sertel, isn’t it recompense, not anger, that matters to you?”

“Master, are you… doubting me now?”

“Not doubting, but offering a more certain proposal.”

This punk really thinks he can trick me. If Sertel had come charging through the enemy lines like General Zhang Fei of the Three Kingdoms to save my life, there would have been at least some sound of swords clashing.

Moreover, if he had been a proper man, instead of rushing to me, he would have rung the bell or responded to alert us to the attack. I don’t know who Abbot Sertel has been persuaded by.

“Is there any need to go to the abbot’s office? There are those here who, in their delusion, would murder the abbot.”

“Master, do not try to deceive me with such words.”

“Even if you try to blame my death on the raiders, His Highness King Athelstan will not believe it. If you frame the abbot for murder, you may face the wrath of King Athelstan, or Bishop Evesham or Yubas may silence you to destroy the evidence.”

He doesn’t take any drastic action despite saying such things. He’s a coward. Now was the time to drive the wedge in. I pointed out the part that would have fooled both Yubas and Bishop Povis and made a tempting proposal.

“Sertel, think about it. Even Bishop Povis has to grovel before His Highness the King for the right to appoint. If the King frowns upon him, he will have to bow to the Pope, but he will never do that. If Yubas rules this land, he will use his own people, so why would he need you? However, if you can use this incident to denounce the current bishop, the bishopric will become vacant.”

“…”

“For a while, they will watch each other for the position of the next bishop, and the abbot who can support a candidate at that time will play a major role. The one who testifies to the current bishop’s wrongdoings and receives the support of His Highness King Athelstan.”

Those who are too protective of their own property tend to give out IOUs sparingly. That’s why they give their newly acquired people room to waver. It’s no use for the acquired person to whip themselves with words like, “Is it really possible?”

For a monster of humanity who has already abandoned their beliefs for gain, things like reality or danger are irrelevant. They only look at the possible gains, the theoretical numbers.

Abbot Sertel was a prime example.

“Master, what on earth makes you speak like that?”

“I believe in people.”

Ambiguous words make the listener think. It was perfect for leading them into a trap of self-contradiction. I said that Sertel could not overcome his own greed, but Sertel interpreted my words differently.

He understood that I believed in King Athelstan’s love for his children. Then, for a moment, there was a silence as if one could hold their breath. A moment later, the sound of a blade sliding out of its sheath like a snake was heard .

It was then that someone else than Sertel spoke urgently.

“Brother Sertel. Surely not now…”

Abbot Sertel may be skilled in swordsmanship, if nothing else. Or maybe he is skilled in ambushing his opponents. I could clearly imagine his fellow monks falling one after another before they could even react.

The sound of boiling blood, the sound of drops of blood falling, and occasionally the sound of something deflating could be heard, but no screams. The doctrine of refraining from killing seems to be real enough at this point.

I clicked my tongue and turned around. Even our dull-witted John seemed to have realized what was going on and was trembling.

“John, that’s enough. Remove the table blocking the door and let Abbot Sertel in.”

“Bu… bu… but, Master. I… it’s crazy. Yo… you must be crazy!”

“Oh, dear. What are you talking about to someone who understands what true justice is? Hurry up and open the door.”

When someone is really scared, they can’t see what’s in front of them. Is it something to say to Abbot Sertel that he seems crazy? There are times when it is possible to tell the truth. I scolded John sternly, and soon after , I looked beyond the door that opened with a creak.

Abbot Sertel was bowing deeply at the waist with an air of deference I had never seen before. Thanks to this, I could see how much his robe had absorbed. Fortunately, it was a black robe, but if it had been pure white, it would already have been stained crimson.

“Prince Narva. Where shall I take you?”

Sertel, the plump monk, celebrated John and me with a benevolent smile. His face was splattered with blood up to the edges after dealing with the wicked attackers.

I smiled with satisfaction and mentioned the place I had already chosen.

“The main hall.”

“The main hall has a wide entrance and is not easy to defend. Is there another reason?”

“It is where the altar of Lux Stella is located. If you haven’t completely abandoned your faith, you won’t draw your sword right away.”

In the end, in a world with gods, the last place to rely on is faith. I felt a deep faith rising from the depths of my heart and made a decision as a devout believer.

“I will pretend that I fled in the chaos and took refuge there, seeking the protection of God. Sertel, you will hide among the crowd in disguise and, when the enemy lowers their swords, you will cut them down in one breath.”

“….”

John’s mouth hung open, probably because he never thought I was so devout.