Hyde Draws the Perfect Lot #1
"On behalf of the Order, I, Galatea, give you my word. If there's anything you need, just say so. I'll do what I can to help, within reason."
"Oh…!"
The bronze knight Galatea was a fine human being — the sort who knew how to feel compassion for others. Her manner of speaking was a touch stiff and prickly, true, but still!
Beneath that hard armor, she had been hiding a warm, soft, tender heart all along.
She easily ranked among the top three people I'd met for sheer character in the five years I'd spent living in this world. If I'd only crossed paths with someone like her sooner, I never would have been branded with that hideous name — Rust the Fiend!
Genuinely moved by the first sympathy I'd felt from another person in a long time, I freely shared my plan.
"I intend to seek an audience with the Archbishop of Durgien. I wish to ask for his guidance. I want to meet him in person and learn how one becomes a priest as noble and devout as he is."
At my mention of wanting to meet the Archbishop of Durgien, Galatea nodded. She seemed genuinely impressed by my lofty ambition.
"Ho, Archbishop Archibold, is it? But that man doesn't see just anyone. He's far too busy and far too important. The only time I've ever laid eyes on him was from a distance, when I stood guard at his investiture ceremony."
Is that so. Well, it made sense that he wouldn't be easy to meet. In this Allied Kingdom, an Archbishop held a rank essentially equal to that of a great noble.
"They say Archbishop Archibold is a truly excellent man. I heard he even paid out of his own pocket to dispatch high-ranking healers to the Agarpe count's household — his sworn enemies. The cost of that was… how much was it again—"
"…The Agarpe count's household?"
Noticing the change in my expression at the name that had suddenly come up, Galatea raised an eyebrow.
"Ah. You're from the Midbar, so you wouldn't know much about the kingdom's politics, would you? Count Agarpe was one of the leaders of the great noble faction. His influence was enormous — enough that he even arranged a marriage alliance with the royal family."
"Why would the Archbishop send healers to people like that?"
"Someone in the count's family fell gravely ill, apparently. They say the household nearly went bankrupt gathering skilled healers and apothecaries. I don't know the full story myself, but…"
Lowering her voice, Galatea glanced around, then spoke carefully enough that only I could hear.
"Some people say it was divine punishment. A sickness as the price for betraying the faith."
Memories flickered through my mind one after another. At the same time, my schedule for the days ahead unfurled itself in a neat, cascading plan.
"Is the Agarpe count's household still looking for healers?"
"Well, I imagine they probably are. I heard it's a disease no one can cure…"
Good. Green lights kept lighting up all over my plan!
I looked Galatea steadily in the eyes and spoke.
"Sister Galatea, if you wish to show me kindness, then draft me a travel permit so I may go to the Agarpe lands without trouble. If I succeed in healing the young lady of the count's house, I shall repay the favor afterward."
"Ho, that's quite the ambition. More than that — did I ever say the person suffering from that cursed illness was the young lady of House Agarpe? You're better informed about the kingdom's affairs than you look."
The warm-hearted lady knight Galatea, kinder than I'd expected, wrote out a scroll of identity guarantee and travel permit for me.
I honestly hadn't thought she'd actually do it. In other words, I had just received an official endorsement from a fairly high-ranking public servant that read: This person is safe.
While I was still basking in gratitude, Galatea drove off with her cart, hauling the prisoners away.
"I thought she looked plain at first, but the more I looked, the more attractive she was. And above all, she has a kind heart."
When men looked at women, there were cases where the face scored maybe a six out of ten, but kindness added bonus points that pushed the total higher. Lady knight Galatea was exactly that type. Hoping I might run into her again someday, I looked around — and realized I was the only one left at the burned-out monastery.
"Everyone's gone, right?"
Once I'd confirmed that every last person had fully disappeared, I surveyed the surroundings. I remembered that no money had been found during the search.
The abbot of this place had been a heretic who sold people as sacrificial offerings for profit. Somewhere, he was bound to have stashed a considerable sum.
I'd wondered if he might have kept it in a secret vault — but the vault held only scrolls. No money.
"If I were a heretic, where would I hide my money? Somewhere hard to discover, yet easy to retrieve… and somewhere ordinary people wouldn't casually set foot…"
As I prowled the area, my eyes fell on a scorched burial ground. Calling it a graveyard was generous — there were only five headstones in total.
I took up a shovel and started digging through the five graves. Then something clinked against the tip of the blade.
Clink-clatter.
A leather pouch stuffed full of silver coins.
"…I used to do the same thing, but heretics always hide their dirty money somewhere. Stashing it in a grave people avoid — not a bad idea. He had a decent head on his shoulders."
The exact amount in the pouch was thirty-five silver coins. At a rate of thirty silver to one gold, that came to one gold coin plus five silver.
"With a single gold coin, you could loaf around and eat for three months without living extravagantly."
If the average modern person's monthly living expenses ran around 1.6 million won, then one gold coin was worth roughly five million in cash. In other words, I had just acquired a fortune so vast that the me of five years ago couldn't even have imagined it.
"Even after setting aside the tithe and thanksgiving offering, it's still a huge sum. This should be more than enough to get me to Agarpe Manor."
The young lady of House Agarpe. If I cured her illness, fame would come overnight — and with it, the credentials to meet the Archbishop of Durgien. It was my own plan, but it was absolutely perfect!
On the road to the Agarpe family's manor.
I paid ten silver coins and managed to hitch a ride with a merchant caravan. They specialized in salt and wine, and went by the name of the Saltwine Company.
Spending ten silver had stung a little, but a journey with a large caravan meant there was virtually no chance of being waylaid by highwaymen and ending up in disaster — and my thinking proved exactly right.
"Elohim is my Lord, and I am the Lord's servant. He leads me beside green pastures and still waters, and watches over me with eyes like flame—"
A full month had already passed since I'd left the burned Emeris Monastery. Whenever I had a free moment, I recited prayers in snatches.
Whether it was the effect of steadily reciting those prayers, I couldn't say — but a strange power seemed to course through me from my fingertips to my toes. My stamina had improved considerably as well. I could haul heavy loads to help the caravan and still not collapse from exhaustion. And every morning, my lower half felt excessively, almost painfully, stiff.
Had that half-baked physical training I'd done at the monastery actually been somewhat effective? Or did the cultivation of holy power come with a side effect of enhanced virility?
"It was an open secret that corrupt high-ranking priests kept concubines behind their wives' backs. If holy power cultivation boosts virility, that story starts to make a certain amount of sense."
Of course, taking a concubine while already having a lawful wife was garbage behavior no priest should ever tolerate. I would absolutely never do such a thing.
Thinking those thoughts, I eventually arrived at Agarpe Manor. Even within the Durgien region, this was a considerably large settlement — better described as a small city than a mere village.
Belmode, a chatty officer of the Saltwine Company, spoke to me.
"You wouldn't know this, coming from the Midbar Wasteland, but this manor used to bustle with people almost as much as the capital, Royal Road."
Contrary to Belmode's description of thronging crowds, visitors to the territory were few these days, and the entrance was fairly quiet. I was able to proceed straight to the entry process without any particular fuss.
"Halt."
At the city guard's command, I stopped and confidently presented the identification card marked Monk Hyde.
One of the benefits the heretical den of Emeris Monastery had given me was how easily they'd issued this ID. No real process involved — just one silver coin, and it was done. Even so, this identification was the real thing, fully valid.
"Tsk."
The Agarpe guard examined my ID, then clicked his tongue. Wondering if something was wrong, I pulled out the identity guarantee I'd received from the bronze knight Galatea and held it out to him.
"If the identification alone isn't enough, I also have a travel permit issued by a bronze knight of the Order."
Rustle.
I unrolled the travel permit scroll and showed it to him. The guard clicked his tongue again.
What is this guy's problem, constantly clicking his tongue like that?
I was reciting a prayer under my breath when the guard asked me a question.
"You are Hyde, monk of the Wood Badge — is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Are you truly a monk? I know it's a bother, but I'd like you to prove you can read a passage of scripture. I'll go fetch a Bible now."
Scripture. That meant a Bible. In this world, Bibles were genuinely, extraordinarily expensive, so clergy who carried one were held in high regard. And you couldn't just buy one even if you had the money.
Of course, none of that applied to me. I spoke to the guard with complete confidence.
"Brother, if there's any passage of scripture you'd like to hear, ask me whatever you wish. There's no need to waste time fetching a Bible."
"Ask you? Hmm… then I'd like you to recite Proverbs, chapter sixteen, verse thirty-three. It's a passage I'm fond of."
If he meant the Book of Proverbs, that corresponded to the Proverbs of the canonical scriptures from the world I'd come from. Chapter sixteen, verse thirty-three — that happened to be a passage I was rather fond of myself.
"'The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord' — that is the verse. It has several meanings, but among them is this: even if a man plans his work to perfection, without Heaven's will, it may all come to nothing."
"Ho…?!"
The guard seemed thoroughly astonished. Was he amazed that I'd recited a verse from memory without even looking at a Bible?
I should mention this now: from the moment I'd first learned to read, I had studied the Bible so thoroughly that I had memorized every verse of all thirty-nine books of the Old Testament and twenty-seven of the New. That was why I had no need for this world's absurdly expensive Bibles. To become an excellent priest, this much was the bare minimum.
Presently, the guard — looking faintly startled beneath his helmet — asked me another question.
"Good heavens. Someone who can recite scripture without even looking at the text… other than Archbishop Archibold, you're the first I've ever seen. Now then… Monk Hyde, what business brings you to Agarpe?"
His tone now carried far more respect. A measure of wariness still remained, however. I drove the point home.
"As for the purpose of my visit — is it not to help with the troubles House Agarpe is currently facing? I understand that Lady Psyche of the Agarpe family is suffering from an illness."
That was right. The young lady of Agarpe was none other than Psyche.