Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Thirsty for the Lord's Grace
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Ahh. Thirsty for the Lord's grace...
It's not easy for a slave to study theology.
No.
Even without being a slave, the very act of "studying theology" is something no sane person would do.
The seminary is a den of madmen operated by countless customs and rituals.
Think of it as an army where they've gathered all the bullshit discipline and absurdities of this world, beaten them into your body,
and the moment you make the slightest mistake, you're treated like a traitor to the nation.
It's no wonder nobles send their kids to monasteries when exiling them.
It's basically a boot camp experience.
"I'll send you to Bishop Dori to receive theological training. You'll undergo harsher drills than a monk until you're ready to be thrown straight into seminary. You'll cram so much complex knowledge into your head it'll make your brain spew gray matter, completely change your living habits, and memorize and embody every damn custom."
The seminary isn't a place that teaches theology to clueless students.
It's an institution to turn "priestly aides" who've already learned all the customs and knowledge into real priests.
Build connections with bishops from each diocese,
master at least three or more languages used in the scriptures,
internalize every church custom,
memorize dozens of volumes of scripture verses so you can recite them on command,
and prepare priestly robes made in the orthodox style, categorized by type.
These are the minimum requirements for admission.
Assuming the family provides the money and connections for the priestly robes,
you have to learn everything else on your own.
And you have to hammer it all into your head before enrollment.
That's not something a sane person would do.
Of course, seminary life itself is even tougher.
All sorts of absurdities await priest candidates, enough to turn even normal people into lunatics.
"I won't say it won't be easy. You're a slave, after all. It'll be a breeze for you."
But,
no matter how grueling the path of theology,
it's nothing compared to being a slave.
When monks eat lemon-juice-drowned salads for asceticism,
slaves eat thin gruel made from cheap boiled grains.
When monks grow vegetables in the church garden for diligence,
slaves bend their backs in hectare-sized fields, lashed with whips.
"Even young masters raised like hothouse flowers in noble houses can complete it with ease."
"......"
"For you, it should be truly, incredibly easy."
Moreover, the slave before him was a true lunatic who'd preserved his faith amid such slave life.
He doesn't eat meat on meatless days.
He scrimps on talants needed for bread to rent and copy scriptures.
It was madness.
The most primal and intense form of faith.
Blind worship.
He had the resolve to even throw away his own life.
This is no metaphor.
For a malnourished slave to skip bread means literal death.
If not for the rationed tofu chips, he'd already be dead.
Plus, despite only the bare minimum literacy education, he'd copied entire scriptures full of archaic languages.
His learning ability was already proven.
If intelligence was lacking, he'd make up for it with grit.
"Even if you study theology and become a minister, you won't become a free man."
"......Yes."
"If you're a minister, you'll be a slave minister; if a priest, a slave priest. Even if you become a bishop or pope, you'll remain a slave."
Ideally, climb as high as possible.
High enough that the church can't deny the slave system itself to protect its authority and dignity.
That serving God as master and serving man as master
are incompatible,
high enough that the church enshrines it as doctrine.
If someone tries to pull you down, I'll block them.
If you hit an obstacle, I'll lift you over it.
As long as you're my slave,
I'll do my utmost to make you a "dignified human."
"You are House Riddle's property. If you seek emancipation on grounds of doctrine, you'll make enemies of House Riddle."
The church denying a secular noble's property rights.
The moment that happens, it becomes a political issue between "secular power" and "church," both guarding their authority.
And
when such a dispute erupts, secular power inevitably yields.
Slavery is a horrific institution, after all!
Not just modern moral sensibilities.
Nobles themselves might not even comprehend the violent concept of a "slave priest."
They'd think the money demon had gone mad.
Besides,
no matter how distinct secular and religious authority are,
nobles still borrow some religious prestige.
That's why lesser nobles fuss over meatless days to boost their dignity.
This is a fight the church wins.
And the more such fights, the more cracks form in trust for the slave system itself.
"I'll buy the church with money."
"......"
"So, if you think this is blasphemous, quit now. Becoming a minister isn't easy, nor can it be done without will. It's certainly not something to force with authority. I'm not foolish enough to invest massive wealth in the impossible."
"......If I refuse Your Excellency's generous offer, what happens to me?"
"Nothing changes. You'll continue living as a farm slave like now. Perhaps, being clever enough to copy scriptures, you'll be sold as a high-grade slave to a place needing a scribe."
"......"
In the end, the most crucial part of this plan was the slave's own will.
If he becomes a priest, he'll receive decent treatment.
While studying theology at church and seminary, no need to work as House Riddle's slave,
and he'll get to eat tasty ham and sausages.
But depending on perspective, it could be seen as blasphemy against God.
Or testing God.
Even if church and God aren't identical, their authorities aren't so different.
So.
If this devout slave feels religious revulsion toward my plan,
it's shelved forever.
"......I think I'm far too lowly a servant for such a grand task."
"So, you'll refuse?"
"No. For a lowly slave like me, it's an honor to be of use to both Your Excellency and the Lord."
Fortunately, the slave nodded eagerly, eyes gleaming with a peculiar religious zeal.
He's parched for faith, after all.
Even if it's being used in the money demon's wicked scheme,
he won't kick away this chance.
"Good thinking."
Well, you'll be freed anyway.
.
.
.
"This is Matthew, who will learn doctrine under Bishop Dori from now on."
"......Pardon?"
"From preparatory catechism to seminary enrollment, full course, please."
We're screwed.
This was the conclusion Priest Dori reached after deep deliberation.
Looks like we're fucked.
"......Isn't he a slave?"
"Correct. See, House Riddle's slave seal is branded right there."
"......"
"Ah. Did the gift I sent last time arrive safely?"
"Yeees...... it did......?"
"Glad to hear it."
In truth, running a church doesn't make much money.
No matter how wealthy the church is,
it's the church's assets, not the priest's.
Whether offerings from believers
or formal subsidies from noble houses,
all belong to the church.
Using them without procedure is embezzlement,
priest dignity maintenance is a pittance,
and there's a limit to what you can siphon off discreetly.
"Umm...... this brother...... is he really that Matthew?"
"Yes. The one who 'formally' received preparatory catechism, took a baptismal name, and was added to the church rolls."
"Ha...... haha....... I, I see......"
So, priests usually had side gigs.
For example,
slightly "skipping" the year-long preparatory catechism before baptism
and adding names straight to the church registry.
Of course, baptism is mandatory,
but with "a bit more" gold, they don't even need to show for it.
Sincerity toward God is what matters, right?
"The church vegetable garden looked lovely. So I brought a modest sack of fertilizer. It's in the warehouse—check whenever convenient."
"Ahh! Thank you!"
Originally, with sufficient sincerity, God grants miracles.
Turning fertilizer stored in the warehouse to gold is......
hardly a grand miracle for the God who created this world, is it?
The cynic Torsso grumbled that God couldn't produce a money rain miracle,
but perhaps it was just a lack of divine power.
Ahh.
Truly, the Lord has bestowed the miracle of money rain upon this world!
"I'll visit often. Take good care of him."
"Of course!"
A mere slave and a noble priest both experiencing miracles—
God's grace truly reaches from the highest to the lowest without discrimination.
So.
The money was too great to refuse.
'What can a slave learn anyway? Wonder if he can even read scriptures properly.'
After House Riddle's agent left,
Bishop Dori counted the yellow, glittering fertilizer in the warehouse,
a satisfied smile on his face.
Utterly unaware of the fate soon to befall him.