Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Sunday Prayer at Sedlec Cathedral
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Meanwhile, at Sedlec Cathedral on a Sunday morning. Time for Sunday prayer.
The majestic notes of the pipe organ filled the cathedral's high ceiling and slowly faded away.
Hundreds of clergy who had finished the Sunday Mass drew the sign of the cross with reverent expressions.
But beneath their solemn faces, a faint yet shared agitation simmered.
Young monk Leo was no exception.
His nostrils had been filled all morning not with the musty scent of aged wood or melted candle wax from the prayer hall, but with the ecstatic aroma drifting from the distant dining hall.
'It's here... that time has come...!'
The special meal served after Sunday prayer.
It was the one and only indulgence allowed amid the grueling routine of watery oatmeal, hard bread, barely salted vegetables, and bran soup every day of the week.
And recently, at the heart of that special meal sat the red sauce hailed as the Blessing of the Constellation.
"Amen."
No sooner had the bishop's voice signaled the end of the prayer than an invisible battle of glances erupted among the clergy.
Those who would normally leisurely tidy the prayer hall today closed their Bibles and rose from their seats with unusual haste.
Subtle jostling of shoulders to exit into the corridor a half-beat faster than the brother beside them.
Their steps toward the dining hall strove to maintain piety while hurrying at twice the usual speed.
Leo, too, swallowed dryly and joined the unseen race.
'Please, let there be sauce left when it's my turn today...!'
Last week, it had run out right in front of him, forcing him to choke down bland potato soup with tears in his eyes. The heartbreaking memory was still vivid.
The impassive face of the serving monk declaring, "God's grace has been fully depleted," followed by the insipid taste of the watery soup. That horrific recollection spurred his steps.
Upon arriving at the dining hall, dozens of clergy were already lined up.
But the atmosphere differed from the usual quiet demeanor.
Everyone struggled to keep a pious expression, yet their gazes were fixed solely on the massive stew pot atop the serving counter.
From the pot rose steam carrying that divine, sweet fragrance of the red sauce, so potent it could be sensed with eyes closed.
"Ah, Lord... thank you."
Leo finally secured a spot about midway in line and let out a sigh of relief. This position was safe.
There would be plenty of sauce left by his turn. Saliva pooled in his mouth unbidden.
Just then, the bishop seated at the head table in the dining hall rose with a soft cough.
All noise in the hall ceased instantly. The bishop surveyed everyone with a kindly smile and spoke.
"Beloved brothers, a moment of your attention, please."
The clergy's eyes turned to him in unison.
"As you all know, for some time now, our tables have been graced with a precious gift called the Blessing of the Constellation. This flavor offers solace to weary souls and strength for our arduous training—a truly miraculous grace."
All nodded quietly in agreement. Leo echoed "amen" in his heart.
"But brothers, the Lord taught us to share. This Blessing of the Constellation is far too generous for us alone. Today, this precious sauce will first be offered to our poor neighbors shivering in cold and hunger beyond these walls."
"......!"
The bishop's declaration froze the air in the dining hall.
Deep despair flashed across the clergy's faces.
God's will was sublime, but the growls from their stomachs were utterly worldly.
Leo doubted his ears. The tantalizing vision of red stew shimmering before him vanished like a mirage.
No one dared raise an objection. They merely exchanged defeated glances.
Young monk Leo hung his head, resigned once more to bland soup.
"Ah, Lord... this week is ruined too..."
At that moment of despair.
The dining hall doors burst open, and a sweat-drenched young monk stumbled in, panting.
"B-Bishop! Big trouble! No, not trouble! Out... out there!"
"What is the commotion, brother? Calm yourself and speak slowly."
"The Argentis and Valerius families have sent a massive donation!"
Every eye in the hall turned to him.
Soon after, cathedral workers grunted as they rolled several enormous wooden barrels into the dining hall.
The barrels' surfaces bore the bold word "Tomato Sauce" in fresh ink—an amount incomparable to before.
The hall fell silent for a moment, then filled with quiet cheers.
The clergy embraced one another in joy. A bright smile finally bloomed on Leo's face.
The bishop gazed warmly at the scene and raised his voice once more.
"The Lord's mercy is so profound! Brothers, let us share freely with our poor neighbors and delight in this blessing ourselves!"
With the bishop's merciful proclamation, the cathedral kitchen sprang into action.
Steam rose from massive pots, and the monks wielding ladles moved with unprecedented piety and speed.
A long line of impoverished neighbors stretched before the cathedral, faint hope dawning on their weary faces.
Before long, their battered wooden bowls brimmed with appetizing red stew.
What would normally be thin broth with a few potato chunks now overflowed with generous vegetables and crimson blessing.
"......!"
An elderly man's eyes widened in shock as he absentmindedly scooped a bite to sate his hunger.
What on earth was this taste!
His tongue was enveloped in a profound, unprecedented depth of flavor.
Tangy yet sweet, with every vegetable perfectly melded within.
No meat, yet it felt as hearty as rich meat broth—what sorcery was this?
"Delicious..."
Someone's quiet murmur was the spark.
Gasps and the sounds of frantic devouring echoed everywhere.
Even children who always left food behind buried their faces in their bowls today, licking up every last drop.
Watching the scene, Leo and the other clergy felt their earlier disappointment vanish, replaced by a warm glow.
Wasn't this pure joy, this unfeigned happiness, precisely what the Lord wished to see?
Once the neighbors had been served, it was finally the clergy's turn.
The red stew Leo had dreamed of all week at last filled his tray.
Overwhelmed, he closed his eyes briefly for a prayer of thanks.
'Father in heaven, we thank you for this daily bread today...'
After the short prayer, he raised his spoon.
The moment the first spoonful touched his lips, Leo understood.
This was no mere taste—it was the Lord's comfort at the end of grueling training, life-giving rain upon a parched routine.
A vivid tang struck his tongue, harmonizing with deep sweetness.
Ordinary potatoes and carrots, in this red sauce, seemed to discover their true purpose, unfolding a feast of rich flavors!
"Oh, oh...!"
How could such a taste exist?
The dining hall brimmed with awestruck silence.
The abbot, ever the model of etiquette with his rigid posture, shoveled slightly faster; the scholar monk, sharpest in doctrinal debates, furrowed his brow in profound contemplation and ecstasy, as if probing unknown truths.
No one spoke, all focused solely on savoring the divine grace on their trays.
The table no longer felt like an extension of harsh training. Only pure joy and gratitude remained.
Quiet exclamations leaked out here and there, and trays emptied cleanly, hard bread soaked to capture every drop.
When all had finished, the hall was utterly silent.
But this silence differed from prior solemnity.
It was a peaceful, pious hush brimming with fulfillment and thanks.
Leo closed his eyes gently. A sincere prayer welled from his heart.
The other monks, as if by agreement, shared the same thought.
'May the Lord's grace forever be with the kind souls of Argentis and Valerius who sent this noble gift.'
Thus, the small miracle wrought by the red sauce warmed even the deepest heart of the holy city.
*Meanwhile, Merenes territory, Merenes Castle.*
A man who looked as if he'd just come of age stared at the food topped with steaming red sauce.
He poked at the flat noodles beneath the sauce a few times with his fork, then turned to the woman beside him and asked.
"...So, sis, this is that Tomato Sauce everyone's going nuts about lately?"
"Yeah. Word is, it's got the Papal Court, the Magic Tower, and even the imperial family in a tizzy. Anyway, you too—"
The man, clearly uninterested in his sister's nagging, wore a distinctly displeased expression.
Soon, he began muttering under his breath.
"Jonathan... Jonathan... Jonathan again."
"To screw that guy over—"