episode_0025

The headquarters of the Air Grants was the Cathedral of Marcelino, named after the archbishop. Among the buildings that made up the cathedral were a monastery where monks lived and a convent for female believers. Among them, the monastery respected the silence of the night, making no sound except for the monks reciting prayers in silence and some guards walking around the monastery.

In the meantime, there was a man waiting for something, reading a book with a candle lit. He was a considerably older man. His face looked to be at least sixty, and his gray, almost bald hair was proof of the years that had passed.

However, the age and experience felt in his exposed arms also proved that he was a different person from the ordinary monks who only recited prayers.

Benedict was one of the most respected monks in the Church, a man who never stopped disciplining himself and who always took the lead in advocating the doctrine that if we do not act, God will not believe that we have done good.

He was one of the pillars of this church, who was that upright and valued principles. He, too, could not endure the years and now serves the church as a monk who only studies quietly. He spreads his experiences and teachings, reads books with a monocle, and writes his thoughts on theology.

Knock. Knock. Knock. In his room, someone was knocking on the door.

Benedict took off his monocle. There was no doubt on his face. Perhaps it was because it was as expected. He spoke quietly, but loud enough for the people outside to hear.

“Come in.”

The wooden door opened cautiously. One of the young monks appeared. Bartholomew. He was a young man who had joined the church last year.

He was a monk who had a very unique motive, and Benedict himself preached the teachings. Of course, his motive was, ‘I want to become strong like Monk Benedict.’ Since he had committed the bizarre act of entering the monastery for that reason alone, it was not strange for Benedict himself to teach him.

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“How are you, monk? I have come to tell you that a guest has arrived.”

“Who is it?”

“That…you said you would know if I told you?”

As expected, Benedict closed the book he was writing and turned away.

“What did you say?”

“Hmm…’Sparrows don’t chirp when they hear hymns.’”

“I will guide you.”

“Is it okay? I was wearing a hood and I looked so suspicious.”

“No problem. Since you are a guest, treat me with respect.”

“Yes, yes…”

Despite his unhappiness, Bartholomew withdrew.

Silence filled the room for a moment while they waited. If he came looking for me with the code I gave him, it must mean he had made up his mind. The offer he had made to the man he had contacted in secret was not such a soft story.

Soon, footsteps were heard. It was the sound of two people approaching. Benedict focused his gaze on the door, and soon, two people opened the door and came in.

“Monk. This is him.”

“…”

The man Bartolome brought bowed his head in silence. He had a black hood pulled over his head and his body was wrapped in a robe of the same color.

Well, it was natural for him to come dressed like this since he had told them not to show it to others. Benedict ordered Bartholomew, who was still suspicious, to step aside.

Bartolome glanced at the guest who had guided him, then nodded and left the room.

Soon, an awkward silence filled the room. Benedict looked at the visitor with a blank expression. He already knew what the visitor meant. So he just looked at him. He was waiting for the visitor’s answer.

The visitor looked at Benedict as if he was not supporting him, and slowly opened his mouth.

“I decided.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes.”

“Then, here it is.”

Benedict took out a bundle from behind him. The visitor who handed it to him noticed that it was quite light. Noticing the expression hidden by the hood, Benedict explained.

“A monk’s clothes can’t help but be light. They’re made with a focus on simplicity. In fact, they’re the clothes I wore 30 years ago, so they’re a bit big and heavy. They must be really big for you, right?”

Although he was sitting, Benedict was taller than the visitor if he were to stand up. If he were to stand up, he would touch the ceiling of the monk’s room. The visitor bowed again, holding the bundle in his arms.

“Thank you.”

“Come back on the same day with the same password. Then the bishop will also admit you to the group of initiates.”

“I will never forget this favor.”

“Hmm. Grace…I think that’s what we should be talking about.”

Benedict said, holding out his hand.

The visitor looked startled. He had not expected the other person to act so kindly.

For the past few weeks, it had been clear that he was the one who had done what the church had hoped for. However, I never dreamed that the person with the highest status among the monks would do this.

So, he slowly raised his arm and took the Benedictine monk’s outstretched hand.

“You stepped forward to help the saintess, a problem that none of us could help with. Any member of this church would be grateful and want to repay you. That’s why I’m giving you the clothes and the code so you can disguise yourself as a monk and infiltrate. Well, if everything goes well that day… that would be great.”

“It will be solved. Be sure to believe in your saint.”

“That’s what I like the most. Even if I hear it again.”

The visitor had stopped by here a long time ago, a few weeks ago, to make a comment. That time, he had to tell his story in a more public setting, with his true feelings hidden.

Then the monks called Benedict, and Benedict made him a suggestion and told him to come today if he had decided. Without hesitation, the visitor came to see Benedict today.

Everything was to prevent those with evil intentions from doing anything foolish.

“Okay, I’ll step aside.”

“Okay. Have a good night.”

The visitor bowed his head again and turned around, having finished his business. He was about to open the door and go outside. A voice was heard from behind him again.

“Ah, on the day of the duel… Don’t be too surprised if something else changes besides what ‘that guy’ does. It’s because the church is involved.”

“Hands up at church?”

To the visitor who hesitated and asked, the old monk gave an answer with a meaningful smile.

“If we can’t do it directly, there are plenty of indirect means we can use.”

So, another conspiracy was being prepared in the church.

In royal palaces, in counts’ mansions, in churches, intrigues surrounding duels between different people, and struggles for gain were constant.

And the time has come for the day of the duel.

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The time that seemed like it would never arrive came faster than expected. No, it was already right before our eyes. That day, the day that many members of the church hoped would not come, came to them with a greater misery than they had imagined.

Inside the Marcelino Cathedral, which is called the headquarters of the Church of Air Grants, there was a large open space. Originally, it was a space prepared for the believers and monks to compete in martial arts and discipline their minds. Once a year, it was also a place where the monks would compete with each other to train as masters and disciples.

Originally, the open space prepared for such a purpose was not frequented by many people. At most, it was used periodically by a few monks who enjoyed exercising their bodies. However, today was different. Exactly sixty days after that insulting challenge to a duel, there were numerous people surrounding the open space in a circle. Monks, clergy, priests from the lowest to the highest, and a very small number of nuns. The members of the church had gathered around the open space to watch the duel.

Among them was Bishop Abraham, the de facto head of the Church of Air Grant. He was a man who was more suitable than anyone else for the position of head of the church, possessing not only the faith of a church member but also knowledge and experience.

Moreover, he was a wise man who, despite having everyone ask him not to participate in the vote to select the bishop, was eventually elected as a bishop, which made him lament.

He had been in this position for fifteen years already, and he was a man who believed that he could pass on the episcopal throne without dying.

He was old. He was already 71 years old this year. He had enjoyed many honors and suffered many humiliations during his long life. The weight of time had come to him as a high position, and he believed that in this position, he could now pass over any humiliation or honor without a care.

But today, that wasn’t the case.

“What kind of nonsense is this…!”

“Bishop, is it okay to just leave this alone?”

“Umm…”

Around him, the wise priests, clergy, and monks were seen as unable to control their anger. However, as the head of the church, the bishop could not stop it, even though he had to do so. He also sympathized with the monks’ anger.

The people surrounding this vacant lot were not all members of the Airgrants Church. The rest were all vassals of the person who had challenged them to a duel. Yes, they were followers of Count Bronkhorst. And the sight of these vassals was so infuriating that the monks could hardly contain their anger.

Some carried swords, others held staffs. Some even openly flaunted the fact that they were hiding something under their flowing robes. The bishop, with his keen insight, discerned that among those brought by Opperspelle, there were some who worked in the palace or served in the army.

No, even this was something that Opershpel was proudly showing off. Several men wearing the insignia of the Knights of the Kingdom were standing by Opershpel’s side and talking to him.

What could not calm the monks’ rage more than anything else was the sight of Opperspelle and an old man standing next to him.

Count Betrog de Bronchost. He was the head of the Bronchost family, a noble of high repute, and also a sinister schemer. Who would have thought that he would attend this duel? And bring so many vassals with him.

As if he was going to throw everything over if they got caught. That kind of appearance really got on the monks’ nerves.

‘It would be more conscientious to just barge in like a thug.’

The bishop was full of the desire to shout and rage, but he suppressed such feelings with transcendent patience. There was a reason for that. What mattered to them was not their own petty pride.

Only, the resentment and guilt towards one person was preventing them from coming forward. And, in fact, they themselves were not so upright.

‘If it comes down to it…’

The bishop glanced to his right. There were several monks wearing hoods. The monks, who practiced deep meditation and kept silent, had their hoods pulled down to cover themselves. They were all different in height. Among them, there was one man who was unusually short.

‘Please…’

“Oh…”

“Beautiful…”

“You don’t lose your composure even in a place like this. You’re amazing.”

And then, a person appeared in the empty lot.

She was a woman who had her beautiful silver hair tied up with a headband, and was wearing short pants and a top that were appropriate for a martial artist. Some parts were exposed, which made some of the followers blush, but she still looked quite modest.

However, her beauty did not crumble at all. Rather, in this rather dire situation, her beauty shone brightly.

Militia Airgrants stepped into the open space with a dignified, unyielding, and calm demeanor.

“Militia Air Grants. Arrived before God.”

The saint declared the duel in the same manner, closing her eyes and lowering her head. In response, someone appeared on the other side.

The bishop was shocked by the sight. The bishop tried to find out who the proxy that Opperspelle had prepared was by using his own information network. However, Opperspelle seemed determined not to reveal this information, and did not send out a proxy until the very last minute.

And the bishop knew why.

“Haa. I’m finally going to relax. It’s been so boring up until now.”

She wasn’t as tall as I thought. To be honest, she was only slightly taller than a saint. However, her wild red hair and her fangs were impressive. No, more than that, the two dog-like ears on her head and the tail hanging behind her stole my attention.

It was a beast. And it was a beast of the Ken tribe. It was a being that enjoyed hunting and fighting instinctively, and was like a fighter itself. It was a race with many who showed off their skills to the point where they could easily beat up even a human male who knew how to fight.

To think that you would prepare such a monstrous being.

“Challenger. Tell me your name.”

Another man present in the open space, a Benedictine monk who was presiding over the judgment of this duel, said so, and the red-haired monk made a face and said, “Tsk.”

“It’s annoying. Can’t we just fight right now? Anyway, he’s Eksan of the Wolf tribe. Well, I’m ready. Duel. ”

And the eyes of the smiling man seemed to contain the harshness of nature and the wild. The monks who indirectly received those eyes did not let their guard down. It was as if the eyes were ready to rush at them at any moment. Even in the midst of all this, the saintess was calm and unwavering.

At that, the man named Eksan opened his mouth as if he was somewhat impressed.

“Wow. I heard you’re a woman who doesn’t know anything about close combat. You’re not shaken by this murderous spirit? And yet you’re part of the warriors’ party, what is this? Hey, Count! Didn’t you say it was an easy request? ”

“It’ll be relatively easy.”

In response to the protests that did not seem like protests from the people, Betrog de Bronchosts gave a small answer. It was not a lie. Well, Eksan did not seem to care much either. In the meantime, the Benedict monk began to announce the rules of the duel in a loud voice.

It was the moment when the duel began.