Priest Hyde Challenges the Artists of Durgien
A priest’s calling had always seemed distant from wealth and prosperity.
In truth, it had to be that way.
Yet the Archibolts’ manor was so vast and sprawling that it made Baron Volterre’s estate look like a mere cottage.
Soldiers dispatched from the Holy Crusade filled the perimeter, and every corner of the garden was adorned with ornaments that rivaled the power of even a queen or prince.
“Whether it is truly right for a priest to accumulate wealth… I wonder.”
I had never once had time to eat properly and instead scrambled for part-time work whenever my schedule allowed.
In the end, I had resorted to writing erotic novels just to survive, only to be struck by lightning and hurled into this infernal world.
“Offering. Here it is. Three hundred gold coins.”
A heavy thud echoed as the senior knight set down a large box overflowing with gold in the foyer of the Archibolts’ estate.
Medici Archibolts, the archbishop, slowly opened his narrow eyes while gazing at the imposing chest of coins.
“Three hundred? The promise was for two hundred.”
“Is it not a good thing to offer generously?”
“Splendid. When you said the man who became your son-in-law was Hyde, I half doubted it, but you exceed even my expectations.”
“Then keep your promise.”
“Indeed. I shall arrange the matter of the entrance fee for the Great Crusade exactly as promised… as far as my power allows.”
“Of course.”
It seemed the archbishop truly was a man of his word. Had he resorted to excuses and deflection, I might have grown irritated, but that did not happen.
“The evening has come. A modest feast awaits, but you may sit without reservation.”
Soon the archbishop led us to the dining hall, and I was seated at the long table as a guest.
Contrary to the “modest” description, the meal began with roasted deer haunches, followed by pheasant and a host of spices that tickled the nose.
Even the Agarpe family had never seen such dishes.
“The Archibolts’ finances appear prosperous. Many in the kingdom starve, yet they feast so lavishly. It will fuel gossip. Stories will spread.”
“Hyde, you are exactly the sort of man I imagined. Very well. Then go hungry. The food prepared for you will be given to the poor in the streets.”
A flick of the archbishop’s wrist.
“Fred, share the guests’ share with the street wanderers. And from now on, give Hyde only dry bread and water. Take his clothes too and give them to the common people.”
Indeed.
The archbishop was a man whose arguments were difficult to refute.
He surpassed the level of scholars like Selim or Mana’an, whose arguments were merely loud. After all, the archbishop’s words were free of any biblical flaw.
He was truly worthy of being called the kingdom’s greatest theologian.
“Yes, Your Eminence. Is it truly necessary to do so?”
Fred, the one-eyed steward, looked genuinely bewildered. When he hesitated, the archbishop laughed heartily and added, “Merely a joke. Hyde, you possess a rather strict and conservative theology, it seems. A ‘wealthy priest’ should not exist, should he?”
“Precisely. There are those who claim that each must work in their station, accumulate their due, and enjoy prosperity as the grace and blessing bestowed by the Lord… yet at least a priest must not grow wealthy.”
“Indeed. Your priesthood seems even stricter than mine. Then allow me to ask: what is your definition of ‘wealth’ regarding a priest? Does the Bible state it?”
The criteria for a priest’s wealth.
Of course, it was not written in the Bible.
What constituted a rich man? What a poor one?
I had long pondered this.
What did the wealthy pastor consider?
Someone with no debt?
One living in their own home?
One who owned a carriage?
After much deliberation, I still could not decide. But if I interpreted the Bible conservatively, it was a person who ate three meals without worry.
Such a person was rich.
As I thought this, the archbishop continued.
“Hyde, we are all rich. Compared to someone missing an arm or leg, how wealthy do you consider yourself? Those missing limbs live in hell, while you enjoy a full lifespan.”
“Everything is relative, is it not?”
“Perhaps. Then let me ask: what do you believe the Lord sees when He looks upon humanity? To the Creator, are humans truly wealthy? Do you feel a dog licking sugar is wealthy?”
“Humans are like ants. How could we even understand the Lord’s will?”
“Exactly. That is what I wished to say. Those who declare you wealthy may actually not be. Arbitrarily judging is arrogance.”
It was true.
Judging and condemning others at will was arrogance.
The one judging was not man, but God.
Soon the archbishop poured wine into my glass and added, “Theology itself is no different. Theology is not always right; it is merely a tool to explain the ‘best.’ Then where shall we set our standard?”
“Therefore we must base it on the Bible. Is not the Bible the unchanging medium?”
The reason religion had reformed amid chaos and uncertainty was exactly here: to return to the Bible.
Soon the archbishop spoke again.
“Yet interpreting that Bible is also humanity’s task. In the end, the standard is man. And the man who sets that standard is the one called ‘king.’ This king is appointed by God, like David or Solomon…”
The man called king.
The king himself.
For some reason, the words felt profoundly blasphemous.
My focus suddenly shattered.
# # #
After the conversation lost its thread, we exchanged only formal pleasantries. The weather today, tomorrow’s forecast, meaningless things.
Sluggishly the meal was ending when the archbishop asked, “So where is my daughter Milione? Fred, I instructed her to attend the evening feast, yet I see no sign of her.”
“That is… After the young miss entered the room claiming to prepare the feast, she has not shown herself. I shall call her again—”
“I am right here.”
A rustle.
Milione Archibolts appeared, dressed in a gown.
Her platinum hair tied back with a headband, she approached supported by maids, wearing a purple-dyed dress.
Her skirt was extremely long and trailing, so difficult to walk in without assistance.
“I apologize for being late.”
The words were apologetic, but her eyes, expression, and voice showed no sign of remorse. If anything, she looked irritated.
The archbishop said, “She is the daughter I never saw my own mother’s face before she died. I spoiled her too much, and she grew up like this. I apologize on my daughter’s behalf for her rudeness.”
Indeed.
Even he was aware that he had spoiled his daughter.
Soon Milione sat and asked, “And Alter?”
“Elder brother Alter is in the Holy City of Barakan. Hyde, I had hoped to introduce you to my eldest son, my pride, Alter. How unfortunate it was not possible.”
Alter Archibolts.
I already knew the name without introduction.
One of the six gold-ranked Knights of Six.
The six knights wearing golden crosses.
Alter was among them, and my ‘Blood Brotherhood’ with Las had clashed with him on several occasions. At the time I had not known he was Las’s brother.
A strange unease stirred.
The father is archbishop.
The eldest son is gold knight of the Knights of Six.
The second son is silver bishop—dead.
The youngest daughter is the ruthless murderer known as Great Sin Las.
Is there even a more wretched family than this?
The Archibolts being wealthy or not had never been the issue. This house lacked even one normal element.
More importantly, did the archbishop know that his daughter was operating as Great Sin Las?
I wondered.
I should probe him.
“By the way, Your Eminence, the one known as Great Sin Las has appeared in the Durgien region. It is also connected to the death of Oscar Archibolts. What is your view on this person?”
“I have heard of such a figure. At the time I was in Royal Road with the king, so I did not receive full details. A very dangerous man.”
The archbishop’s tone was perfectly formal. No trembling, no panic or tension.
Deception?
Or did he not realize his own daughter was that Las?
At that moment, Milione, swirling her wine, spoke.
“The one who truly needs caution is not Las. It is her partner, Rust. I heard that this time Rust appeared at the Volterre baronial estate, burned the manor down, and raped the bride?”
“Raped the bride?”
It was the first time I had heard it.
When had I ever raped Cathy Volterre?
I was still stunned when Milione continued.
“Yes! They say I raped Cathy Volterre and completely ruined the wedding! A new short story appeared too! 《Virgin Eater》! What an outstanding masterpiece!”
*Hem*.
Medici Archibolts cleared his throat.
Milione pouted, “Yes? Am I supposed to stand there like a pretty doll?” and turned her head.
Using the lull at the table, the archbishop said, “I also heard that Rust cursed Cathy Volterre and made her miserable. But Hyde, you claimed to have cast that curse, did you not?”
The archbishop’s question turned to me.
I feared he might have sensed I was the ‘Rust’ entity. I remained composed and replied casually.
“It was not me. It was the Lord’s help. And Rust is not a coward hiding his identity behind a mask; he lacks the courage to show himself in the world.”
“Lacking courage. Yet he writes bold stories. Even I was amazed at the new measurement system he introduced.”
The metric system is good.
In truth, it was a plagiarism, not an original creation.
Nevertheless, Medici Archibolts’ expression grew the most serious of the evening.
“A measurement system is the king’s standard. And that king is appointed by God. To change that standard. In my opinion, that man will become the greatest headache for this kingdom from now on.”
“Is that so?”
“And one of those who will oppose him is Hyde. You, perhaps. In any case, the conversation tonight has been most enjoyable. Do not lose that spirit.”
A flick.
With that, the archbishop rose from his seat and left the dining hall entirely.
Only after he had gone did Milione ask, “Hyde, you… seemed to like our old-fashioned father’s mindset, huh? By the way, ‘old-fashioned’ is a term from Rust’s new work 《Virgin Eater》, meaning a strict old man.”
I knew.
Yet it was surprising that the archbishop liked me.
We had only clashed in opinions all day.
Milione added, “I do not talk to people I dislike. Look today. He wouldn’t even speak to me. My own father. And he was raped by Rust. He didn’t even comfort me with a single word.”
Only then did I remember we had not discussed the recent death of Oscar Archibolts or the marriage I would have to arrange with Milione.
Well, I would be staying here about a month.
With so much time, perhaps.
Soon Milione clicked her tongue.
“Hyde, you are not worthy of our old man. Our old man probably doesn’t even see you as a rival.”
“Then who can oppose him?”
“How should I know? Only Rust!”
That guy was that guy.
No, actually Hyde and Rust were different.
The time passed in that manner, and the next morning.
I woke in the soft, guest bedroom.
From the archbishop I received astonishing news.
“Hyde, I tried to abolish the Holy Crusade entrance fee last night to repay your labor, but petitioners arrived with complaints even at dawn.”
A mountain of letters.
Who exactly opposed abolishing the church’s entrance fee?
Soon the archbishop said, “The Artists’ Association. They are a great headache for me as well.”