Chapter 120: The Tour
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 120: The Tour
“Father. We will see you in Roxwood, then.”
The head of the merchant caravan, who had accompanied him to a small village of about thirty households near Roxwood, made the sign of the cross.
Although Archbishop Raceni hadn't revealed his identity, the man had discerned from his words and actions that he was no ordinary priest.
“May the Lord’s blessing be upon you and those who follow you.”
After giving a blessing with the sign of the cross, Raceni left them behind and strolled through the village.
The area around the village was a sea of golden waves. On one side, men and women were harvesting wheat, beads of sweat glistening on their brows.
Unexpectedly, their faces were free of worry. Was it because it was the harvest season, when they reaped the fruits of a year’s hard labor? That alone wasn't enough to explain it.
In regions with high taxes, the peasants’ faces would grow darker as the harvest approached, since more than half their yield would be taken by the lord.
Dong. Dong. Dong.
As the church bell tolled for noon, the people working in the wheat fields gathered in small groups and raised their mugs of beer.
The beer, thick like porridge, was lukewarm and low in alcohol, but the peasants drank it with a joy as if they were tasting a divine delicacy.
“Looks like a bountiful year, doesn't it?”
At Raceni’s approach, the peasants gripped the scythes they had casually tossed aside. The monk’s habit he wore did not inspire their trust.
“Who are you?” the oldest peasant asked cautiously, stepping forward.
Raceni offered a benevolent smile.
“I am but a nameless pilgrim on my way to Quaran to visit the holy lands of the East.”
“With nothing but the clothes on your back?”
For a pilgrim embarking on such a long journey, Raceni’s belongings were sparse.
“On a long journey, too many possessions only weigh one down. It’s better to buy what you need with coin as you go. Might I ask for a mug of beer?”
Raceni pulled a copper coin from his robes and tossed it to them.
The peasant who caught it exchanged glances with his companions before handing Raceni a mug of beer.
“You don’t seem like a first-time pilgrim…”
“This is my second time. The first was to the holy lands of the Northern Continent.”
“You mean the place where the Pope resides…?”
“The first house built by the Lord? It was magnificent. Its grandeur was such that one could hardly believe it was built by human hands. Furthermore…”
An experienced traveler was always popular among peasants who were tied to the land their entire lives. And Raceni, as an archbishop, had plenty of experience with public speaking…
The peasants were instantly captivated by his storytelling and gathered around him, their wariness long forgotten.
Judging the time was ripe, Raceni casually broached the subject.
“But it seems you’re all living quite well. I heard a war broke out nearby.”
“Oh, don’t even mention it. When the war suddenly started, we thought we were in for real trouble. You know how nobles are, they start by looting, don’t they? We even heard rumors of looting and arson in Roxwood… We spent many sleepless nights worrying about what to do.”
For a moment, Raceni’s eyes sharpened.
“Looting and arson, you say. The new lord must have been collecting the spoils of war.”
“That’s what we thought at first, too.”
“At first…?”
“Hah! Turns out it was the work of the city’s nobles, the ones who always acted like big shots. They tried to blame it on the enemy to line their own pockets. I guess they thought they were going to win, but hahaha, when Lord Allen arrived, they all had to pay the price.”
Recalling that time, the peasants suddenly became boisterous. Raceni tilted his head.
“Hmm, could it not have been a ploy by Lord Allen? I’ve seen many cases where an occupying army commits looting and arson, only to shift the blame onto the existing nobles.”
“Don’t say such things. Lord Allen is not that kind of person. Do you know how much better life has gotten since he came? All those sons of bitches who used to collect taxes on top of taxes, each claiming the land and rights as their own, are gone. The ridiculous taxes on every little thing have been drastically reduced, too.”
Raceni’s expression turned to one of disbelief. Weren’t nobles the sort who only thought of exploiting their inferiors?
But to reduce and even eliminate taxes? There had to be some grand, wicked scheme behind it to make up for the loss.
In truth, Allen had simply considered the efficiency of the tax system. The total amount of taxes paid by the peasants had only decreased by a very small margin.
“Hmm, isn’t there something shady going on? For example, does he practice wicked magic or something…?”
“…”
The talkative peasant’s mouth snapped shut. The other peasants fell silent as well. As silence descended, they exchanged glances.
“Wh-what? Did I say something wrong…?”
By the time Raceni realized something was amiss, the peasants had surrounded him.
The peasant representative who had been talking to him pointed an accusatory finger and raised his voice.
“Get him! He’s a wicked man slandering our lord!”
“You son of a bitch! You dare insult our lord when there’s no one else to insult!”
“Stomp him! He must be a spy from a neighboring territory!”
“No, wait, I’m actually…”
Raceni urgently tried to reveal his identity, but…
“What? You’re that famous archbishop? Then I’m the Pope!”
The fists only flew harder. The peasants beat him without mercy, like a dog on a hot summer day.
Raceni curled up, protecting his head with his hands. When the peasants tired and their blows slowed, he seized the opportunity to swing his staff wide and make a run for it.
“You bastard! Showing your true colors at last! Don’t let him get away! Catch him and bring him to the lord!”
Of course, the enraged peasants didn't give up. Peasants from nearby fields heard the commotion and joined in, and the crowd chasing Raceni quickly swelled.
This… this isn’t how it was supposed to go…!
Seeing the growing mob, Raceni had no choice but to flee for his life.
I know what kind of people nobles are. That village must have been an anomaly.
Having traveled the continent to spread the Lord’s teachings, Raceni prided himself on knowing nobles better than anyone.
They were greedy barbarians who casually used violence and power to get what they wanted. That was Raceni’s perception of the nobility. Thus, he dismissed the village he had just passed through as a peculiar exception.
However, every village he passed through on his way to Roxwood was much the same. In fact, the closer he got, the greater the people’s fondness for the new lord.
I can’t believe it. They must all be deceived.
This only deepened his suspicion. It was a phenomenon that his common sense simply could not explain.
Yet even he couldn't help but be shaken when he finally faced the city.
The faces of children running and playing tag were filled with smiles, and the voices of the adults were full of life.
The streets were unusually clean for a city, and no women were dumping filth from their windows. The city guards patrolled with watchful eyes.
It’s… alive?
It felt as if the entire city was alive and breathing. It was a sensation he had never experienced before, despite having visited countless cities.
What made the difference? This was an atmosphere that couldn't be created simply by cutting taxes.
Seeking to resolve his questions, he tried to take in everything the city had to offer. He eventually arrived at a construction site on one side of the city.
It was a project to dig a canal, drawing water from the Rhine River that flowed past the city and directing it through the urban center. After hearing an explanation from a worker, he tilted his head.
“This looks like it’s been going on for quite some time.”
“It began not long after the lord changed.”
“But that was only a few months ago, wasn’t it?”
Even after the worker’s explanation, Raceni couldn't understand. The project was far too advanced to have begun just a few months ago. He was about to ask for more details when he saw something strange.
A shopkeeper who, just moments before, had been selling snacks to the construction workers, rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a shovel. Seeing Raceni’s eyes widen in surprise, the worker chuckled.
“It’s possible because the townspeople help out when they have free time.”
The worker’s explanation only confused Raceni further.
“…You mean they help voluntarily? Why?”
The one who answered was the man who had been a shopkeeper until a moment ago. He paused as he walked between them, a shovel resting on his shoulder.
“Pfft. Who’s helping whom? What benefit does the lord get from digging a canal? He lives in the inner castle anyway. This is purely for us citizens. So it’s the lord who’s helping us.”
“Ahem, not everyone is like this man. I, for one, am getting paid for my work.”
“Hey, you! Your work hours are already over.”
“Hahaha. So they are.”
As the worker looked embarrassed, the shopkeeper continued speaking to Raceni, as if boasting on his behalf.
“Honestly. A pilgrim shouldn’t be so surprised by this. They’ve started maintenance work along other parts of the Rhine River too. An official who works at the castle said they’re fixing up the waterways so that ships can travel from Roxwood to Quaran in one go. If the plan succeeds, the city will prosper.”
“And not just this city, right? All the cities along the Rhine will benefit.”
“It’s all the same. It’s all the lord’s land anyway.”
The shopkeeper and the worker spoke as if competing to see who could praise their lord more. A merchant he met on the way to the inner castle was similar.
“In truth, what are nobles but thieves with power and justification? You can’t even imagine how much money we lose every time we pass from one territory to another, from one manor to the next.”
“Indeed! Since he monopolized the Rhine River basin, he must be even more vicious in his extortion, no?”
“Not at all. We were worried about that too, but the new lord is meticulous with his calculations. As long as we pay the set tariff, he demands nothing more. There are also regular patrols along the roads that follow the waterways. I’ll be hiring fewer mercenaries on my next trip.”
The truth was, Allen had crushed the ruling class so thoroughly in his wars that there were few factions left with the power to extort money.
This, in turn, created a shortage of middle managers, causing work to pile up at the castle and weakening his control over the provinces. However, thanks to the overwork of Allen’s women and Zaenbold, things were somehow managing to function.
“That can’t be…”
“I understand. I didn’t believe it either until I experienced it myself. In any case, the new lord clearly cares a great deal about commerce. Some of the merchants I know are even thinking of setting up bases in Roxwood or Quaran. It’s a golden opportunity to make a fortune if you invest now. Which brings me to my next point…”
In fact, the merchant who had accompanied Raceni to the nearby village was also on his way to scout for a location in Roxwood. Raceni realized this belatedly.
He declined the merchant’s investment proposal, his mind a tangled mess. What these people said about Allen was completely different from the man he knew.
A noble who cares for the common folk…?
The Allen that Raceni knew was a tyrant who loved blood. Blood followed him wherever he went; he was a demon who rejoiced in seeing bloodshed that could have been avoided.
If he hadn't judged him as such, he would never have believed the king—with whom he had a poor relationship—when he confessed his own brother was a warlock, nor would he have taken action himself.
Having climbed to the inner castle, situated on the mountainside, he turned and looked down at the city. He thought he finally understood why it felt so alive.
The peasants, the workers, and the merchants he had met—all of them held the hope that tomorrow would be better than today.
It was a stark contrast to the many territories where the majority of people lived simply because they couldn't die. This realization led to another.
Yes. The important thing was hope…
Following the Lord’s word to aid the poor was merely a temporary act of self-satisfaction. To truly save people, one had to give them hope.
Considering that, Raceni thought, Allen was perhaps a better shepherd in the Lord’s eyes than he himself, a man renowned for his piety.
However, one thing still bothered him.
A waterway construction project of this scale required an enormous amount of money. And they were even paying the workers.
Perhaps it was all just flashy packaging, and some wicked deed was being committed in secret.
The devil always tempts humans with sweet words.
His suspicion grew stronger upon entering the inner castle.
“The lord has ordered that no one be admitted.”
“Did you tell him who I am?”
The guard at the gate bowed his head, a deeply troubled expression on his face.
“We are also forbidden from entering the inner quarters.”
A visit from Archbishop Raceni was something nobles would boast about for years to come. Some nobles had offered mountains of gold and jewels, begging him to visit just once.
In other words, his visit was valuable enough to report even if it meant disobeying the lord’s strict orders.
But for the guard to not even relay the message that the archbishop had arrived? Raceni’s suspicion could only deepen.
In reality, Allen simply didn't want to be disturbed during his time with the women, who were all gathered in one place for the first time.
And the guard, a veteran mercenary who had witnessed Allen’s legendary, hero-like deeds with his own two eyes over the past two years, simply considered Allen’s command more important than the arrival of an archbishop.
“Hmm… Then I shall return another time.”
Raceni decided to take a step back. Of course, it was one step back for two steps forward.
That evening, two guards stood watch at the main gate of the inner quarters, while two others patrolled the surroundings. The security was ironclad.
But with the help of the chief priest of the inner castle’s chapel, Raceni found a gap. Slipping through a window like a thief, his eyes gleamed.
There’s… no one here?
In stark contrast to the heavy guard outside, he couldn't sense a single person inside. This fueled Raceni’s suspicion even more. He concluded that they had dismissed everyone because they had something to hide.
Convinced, he began his search and soon stopped before the only door from which he could sense any presence.
Lord, protect this little lamb.
Making the sign of the cross and finishing a silent prayer, he threw the door open without hesitation, certain that some nefarious act was taking place within.
Bang.
However, what greeted him were three people—a man and two women—calmly eating a meal.
Moreover, the food on the table was simple, unbecoming of nobles who prided themselves on luxury, pleasure, and gluttony. It was even more modest than what a wealthy commoner might eat.
“This can’t be…?”
Faced with the complete opposite of what he had expected, Raceni was flustered. And so, he missed several things.
First, the thick, rich scent lingering in the air, and the traces of lovemaking on the floor, the chairs, and the table.
It was evidence that a tryst had been taking place in this very hall just moments before. Had he not been a virgin, he would have noticed the signs, even in his confusion.
“Who are you!”
Belatedly, Allen drew his sword and pointed it at Raceni. It was also a move to shield the marks on Aenya’s and Eleanor’s bodies, which were visible upon closer inspection.
Meanwhile, the mother and daughter of the Rasino family, who had gone to fetch more food, peeked out from the kitchen door, spying on the scene. Piole, who had gone to get wine, was with them.
“I am… Gack.”
Before Raceni could answer, a knife-hand strike from Allen slammed into the nape of his neck. Raceni collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
Allen clicked his tongue and sheathed his sword. Only then did Aenya emerge from behind him and ask, her face full of curiosity.
“Why didn’t you kill him?”
“A useful piece has walked right into my hands. I can’t just kill it.”
“A useful piece?”
It was Eleanor who answered. She clung tightly to Allen’s arm and murmured.
“Archbishop Raceni?”
“What? This bald thief is that famous archbishop?”
“I’ve seen him once before.”
Eleanor, who had lived in the capital until a few years ago, was acquainted with Archbishop Raceni. Aenya looked back at Allen.
“Then shouldn’t you kill him even more?”
The archbishop was famous for his piety. If he found out about Aenya’s and Eleanor’s abilities, he would immediately brand them as witches and try to have them burned at the stake.
“If I can use him, he will be a great help for a long time to come.”
This was an age where faith was a part of life. If Archbishop Raceni, whose name was known even to the most ignorant commoner, were to cooperate, Allen would gain a powerful, intangible form of strength.
Dozens of ways to use him were already flashing through Allen’s mind.
Moreover, he now had leverage. No matter how renowned the archbishop was for his piety, breaking into a noble’s inner quarters like a thief was an unforgivable mortal sin.
If the Church learned the truth, they wouldn't be able to protest even if Allen killed him.
“Of course, before that, I’ll have to interrogate him to find out what scheme he was plotting.”
Allen grabbed Raceni by the hood and dragged him away.