The Medieval Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset
Chapter 59

The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 59

59. A Ghost Story for the Hot Summer

July 15, 1212.

About two weeks after returning from my inspection tour for the abolition of monasteries, I was enjoying a warm and peaceful sight from the saddle of my horse.

The shade of a willow tree swaying gently in the breeze near the riverbank. Farmers sitting beneath it, engaged in animated conversation. Ducks splashing in the water of the river flowing steadily by.

Even as I wiped away the beads of sweat that had trickled down my face and congealed on my chin, I couldn’t help but feel happy at the sight.

The only regret I had was the size of my entourage. I dismounted and patted my horse’s neck, then looked over the members of our entourage who were resting by the riverbank.

The sight of the priests wearing their black robes, oblivious to the scorching sun, was almost unbearable. Both the monks and priests were panting heavily as they frantically drank from the water stored in their leather pouches.

Moreover, there were only 16 of them. Considering that the entourage I had assembled to abolish the monasteries had numbered over 20, this was a significant decrease.

The reason for this was the lack of enthusiasm among the clergy.

Once word got out about the hardships the entourage had endured, the number of volunteers dropped off sharply. This was despite the fact that we had taken great care of the entourage upon their return.

Even though they had completed a difficult journey, we had given them plenty of time to rest and relax, and had even assigned them separate spaces and time, but it seemed that the leisurely pace of life to which these medieval people of another world were accustomed had made our schedule too harsh for them.

I have to admit, this was my fault for being too caught up in modern-day industriousness and not taking into account the average workload of this world. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

While I had provided ample rest time during our pilgrimage across the diocese…

What saddened me the most was their limitations. If they had been shirking their duties, I could have reprimanded them, but they were simply exhausted, gasping for breath, and there was nothing I could do about it.

If people are like this, how much longer could the horses endure? Originally, horses have less stamina than humans. Aside from a few exceptional breeds of famous horses, their poor stamina meant they couldn’t carry people for as long as we had expected .

That was the result.

I could only sigh as I looked back and forth between the collapsed priests and the exhausted horses licking at a block of salt. The horses couldn’t speak, so there was nothing to be done, but the people were different.

A special training plan to enforce the vow of diligence on everyone in our diocesan cathedral and help them manifest their stigmata.

I felt the need to bring forward this exciting and magnificent plan much earlier than scheduled. If we had a group of tireless priests, we would still be marching.

However, even dreaming of the future couldn’t dispel all the regret and anxiety within me.

When I finally came to my senses, I was letting out a deep sigh.

“We need to arrive in Illenfoot as soon as possible and finish Bishop Ganista’s work.”

Even though we didn’t say a word to each other, I knew we were on the same page.

Why would the Bishop, who had come to visit my diocese, keep trying to leave?

Bishop Ganista couldn’t rest easy thinking about the work that must be piling up in his own diocese. I could understand his feelings. Even if he left it to his aides and assistants, he must have been worried sick about whether the work was being done properly.

As is always the case with managers, he couldn’t be at ease unless someone he could trust and rely on was overseeing things.

Although Bishop Ganista was prone to self-praise and had a mischievous streak… he was my man.

Of course, I’m not a great person. But I felt a sense of responsibility as a human being to create an environment where my people could rest easy.

That’s why I had tried to quickly check on all the work before the girl from Tribunus came over, but things had gone awry.

If the group didn’t follow, there was nothing the leader could do. All a powerless individual could do was pray with absolute determination.

I clutched my silver cross necklace and recited the prayer as my overflowing spirituality guided me.

“Lux Stella, Star of Mankind. Please answer my prayers and faith and grant them their stigmata. They have thousands of miles to walk and a destination tens of thousands of miles away…”

Did my desperate plea reach the world as sound? The monks and priests, who had collapsed as if dead, all flinched at once. They hadn’t fully recovered, but their spirits seemed to have revived.

Thanks to that, I was able to feel hospitalized and confident. I told myself that one day my prayers would be answered and an invincible group of followers would emerge, never tiring no matter how hard they marched.

At that moment, something strange started happening on the other side of the riverbank.

“….!!!”

“$@#!$!!”

The farmers, who had been resting comfortably, all rose at once, brandishing their sickles and plows and acting ferociously. I couldn’t understand what they were saying as they responded in hoarse voices fueled by anger, but I could guess the extent of their Fury.

Their reaction was so extraordinary that even our group, which seemed to have given up on everything in the world, was forced to rise unsteadily.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s not easy for simple serfs to get so angry…”

One of them, Foros, the embezzling priest who had also attended the last pilgrimage, approached me quietly.

“Your Grace, what should we do?”

“Hmm.”

I pondered, my jaw clenched.

The draft horses that were supposed to pull the carts with the people were exhausted and couldn’t move properly anyway. If we stayed here, we would have to set up camp or rent a house, and the thought of the time that would be wasted made me shiver.

Yes. Shiver.

When I looked at our group, which was now acting arrogant and aggressive, I only felt impatience, regret, and sorrow, so it served them right.

“Send someone to call them over. We need to figure out what’s going on. It would be best if we could intervene before it turns into a riot.”

***

Serfs are simple. This meant that they were generally submissive to those of higher status than themselves.

Just a moment ago, the serfs, who had seemed ready to plow a person under, knelt before me and began to appeal to me about the injustice and validity of their anger.

“Well, what’s this freakish nonsense he’s spouting? That we should flee at once!”

The serf with the goatee pointed a trembling index finger at his interlocutor.

The man in patched rags stood his ground, defiant even as he cowered.

“Well, you just don’t see it because you’re blind. If you did, you’d be saying the same as me!”

“This idiot’s still out of his mind! We took him in out of pity, and now he’s spouting nonsense!?”

“Ugh!”

The serf with the goatee was not alone in his grievance towards the man in rags. As soon as the goatee had spoken, the others, who had been glaring silently, erupted in a chorus of complaints.

“He’s been spouting nonsense to our children too. When our child came home crying and asking if we were all going to die, it gave me quite a fright!”

“Hey, you! You’re trying to trick us into abandoning our land so you can gobble it all up, aren’t you?”

“What age do you think this is? Are you still trying to pull off that kind of scam? You deserve to be burned at the stake, burned at the stake!”

They must have been suffering for quite some time. They were all thoroughly exasperated.

My entourage just shrugged their shoulders, looking as detached as a sack of barley. We decided that we should wait until things calmed down a bit. We couldn’t risk provoking them further until they were on the verge of violence.

“I’m not the only one who saw it. Over there, towards the shipyard in the east, the rumor is already spreading!”

“This is the western edge. How do you know if the rumor in the east is true or not? Huh?”

“It is true! Well, they say that ghost ships have appeared beyond the thick sea fog!”

That was until the man in rags started talking about the rumor.

“Hold on. I’ll conduct an interrogation.”

I swiftly silenced the serfs who were about to burst into a fit of rage. I seriously rattled the hilt of my sword, knowing that they wouldn’t listen if I spoke gently. Fortunately, the serfs in this area were truly simple folk.

“Yes, Your Grace!”

“Oh my, Your Reverence, please ask us anything you want to know.”

As soon as I rattled the hilt of my sword, they all cowered submissively, as if they had suddenly become a flock of docile sheep.

I was surprised that they would sit quietly after just one rattle of the sword hilt in this barbaric era. They were, after all, somewhat civilized people. I felt a sense of satisfaction at the possibility of their enlightenment and then directed my questions towards the man in rags.

“You said ghost ships. Not just one, but several, and apparently you and others have seen them?”

“Y, yes.”

“Tell me the details. I’ll listen and judge whether it’s true or not.”

Gulp.

The man in rags swallowed with difficulty, but he looked up at me with serious eyes. He was overjoyed that someone was finally taking his story seriously.

Now was the time for judgment.

Was this man really a candidate for the closed ward of the mental hospital ver. Middle Ages (permanent isolation, together with criminals)? I hid my curiosity behind an inscrutable expression.

Then, the man in rags began his story with a face full of tension.

“I… I’m a fisherman from the Penrad Principality, located above Yubas in the east. My name is Hraban, Your Grace.”

“If it’s above Yubas, why didn’t you just go to Yubas? Why did you come all the way to Powys, the westernmost point?”

“Oh, Your Grace. Among the people of the Penrad Principality, there are many rumors about Yubas. Well, they say that people who flee there to escape the raiders… disappear without a trace at some point… as if they never existed.”

“Hmm.”

I have no choice but to believe this for now, as there is no one or rumor to compare or contrast it with.

As I nodded involuntarily, the man in rags, slightly relieved, began to talk about the ghost ship rumors that were rife in the Penrad Principality.

To summarize the man in rags’ rambling, it went something like this.

Around five years ago, starting in the autumn of 1207, sea fog began to appear frequently over the sea near the Penrad Principality.

This unusual weather phenomenon had never been recorded before, so everyone was bewildered. The Church recommended that fishing be suspended as it could be an unholy omen, but for those who had to make a living, such advice was like water off a duck’s back.

In the end, the Church’s ineffective advice went unheeded, and the people continued to cast their nets and wield their fishing rods.

But then, at some point, ships started not returning, one or two at a time. Most of them were fishing boats that had ignored the advice and went out to fish in secret, so they were soon forgotten, without any effort being made to replace out who was responsible.

The problem started when fishing boats and fishermen started returning alive.

“Ships would appear, gliding over the water’s surface from beyond the sea mist. Despite their blurry forms, they exuded a terribly ominous aura, as if they were ridden by ghosts. My lord, I swear I only survived because I knew when the sea currents would change.”

If only one person had said this, it would have been dismissed as the ramblings of a madman.

But all the fishermen who returned alive were exceptionally skilled. It didn’t take long for people to realize that they were all giving the exact same testimony.

“My lord, what’s more important is that we haven’t had any contact with the Scattered Archipelago in about ten years. Even though they are people who like to live alone, they would still visit occasionally, but they haven’t shown their faces for some time now. The ghosts must have eaten them too!”

***

Our party decided to stay for a day.

We had wasted too much time during the day, and more than anything, I was worried about the rumors. The party members, including the embezzling priest Poros, saw me off with grinning expressions.

“Yes, sir, as you know, they’re not right in the head. It must be some kind of cheap trick by madmen trying to attract attention and get some money.”

“It might cool us down in this hot summer heat.”

“Yes, sir…”

“Alright. Call Hraben. I need to hear more.”

The Principality of Penrad and the surrounding areas were located on the opposite side of our Powys, making it difficult to know the situation there. Even if it was just the mad ramblings of fishermen, it couldn’t hurt to listen.

What worried me in particular was the part about the sea mist.

[The miracles of the Otherworld developed in a way that avoided the eyes of the Church.]

From Noble mtl dot com

…Is it just a natural phenomenon, or is it a miracle of the Otherworld?

That was what I was most curious about.