24. Bell Tolling
Every so often, we witness the spectacle of a person with a significant secret being manipulated by someone who has discovered their weakness.
Are you really okay with this? Aren’t you afraid of what might happen later? The moment they hear these clichéd words, they can’t help but see the future bearing down on them, even if they try to ignore it.
If they’ve committed a crime, they can see a future where they’re thrown in prison; if they’ve been secretly engaging in illicit activities, they can see a future where they’re ostracized by society. Most of them end up either suffering in silence or turning to others for help.
I often similar situations in the game I used to play, [Fantasy Monarch]. People who encountered had discovered my secret would approach me and threaten to expose it unless I did what they wanted.
Newbies who had just started playing would tremble as they complied with their demands. The secrets they had accumulated in the game were usually evidence of crimes that would be condemned by society, such as murder. The newbies would just cry and give in to the blackmail .
However, once you gain a little experience, your perspective changes. One day, when a jerk approached me with evidence that I had killed an entire family and demanded that I obey him, I suddenly thought to myself,
Who is this guy to be blackmailing a mass murderer?
If I were a true tyrant, I wouldn’t have been caught in the first place. However, among the users who played [Fantasy Monarch], I was known for playing as a despotic, tyrannical character.
Of course, I was different from your average tyrant. I was also a kind, modern human being with the advanced morals and ethics of the 21st century. If the blackmailer had simply revealed the truth, I would have let him go. But because he tried to use it for his own selfish gain, I punished him.
That said, taking his life would have been excessive. Punishment is meant to serve as a warning, to make people more cautious in the future. After much deliberation, I finally figured out how to resolve this complex issue.
To those who threaten me with my secret, I cut off their tails to prove that they’re serious about their claims.
As a result, countless criminals who would have otherwise met their demise survived thanks to my humane judgment. Even so, for some reason, the people in the game feared me and called me a family-murdering monster.
Perhaps it was the retribution for my tyrannical past.
In any case, the moral of this humanitarian anecdote, which came to me only after a long reign of tyranny, is this: Those who trust in others give them a chance at a new life. And those who don’t trust others get their tails cut off, not their heads.
From where I stand, Yubas and Bishop Powys seem to be the latter type.
The cacophony that had been echoing throughout the monastery had now reached the front of the church. The earsplitting sound of metal scraping against metal and the stench of iron filled the air.
The moment I had been waiting for had arrived. I closed my eyes and stood quietly in front of the altar, my body trembling. I couldn’t help but shrug my shoulders in excitement, which must have looked very strange to the monks.
After a while, one of the monks who had remained in the back row gnashed his teeth and echoed,
“Your Grace! Have you finally lost your mind?!”
“Lost my mind? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“If we fall, we’ll all die!!!”
His voice was clear enough to hear even amidst the screams. And his face was unfamiliar. The monk I had been somewhat acquainted with, Batis, was rolling around on the ground like a maggot, having lost his mind.
This monk seemed to be trying to emphasize the fact that we were all in this together.
“So? Should I weep for you and shed tears over your impending deaths?”
“But it’s your life that’s at stake?!”
“Why should I care if the people who tried to kill me are fighting with the people who are trying to kill me? Do you think I’ll feel more motivated if the people who tried to kill me are cheering me on?”
I don’t see why we have to be friendly just because we’re on the same side. We’re just in a temporary alliance. My plan was to let both sides suffer. I couldn’t understand why the monks were acting so resentful, as if I had wronged them, when they knew that they wouldn’t survive if they killed me.
The monk couldn’t find any words to refute my statement. Then, looking at the scar on the back of my hand, he forced himself to speak.
“…If you could perform the miracle granted by the Stigmata of Lux Stella.”
“My miracle will be your absolution.”
These guys were asking for too much, considering they had just tried to kill me. They kept asking for more than we had agreed on, and I couldn’t help but frown.
“If we all survive, that will be the real miracle. I’ll completely forget that you tried to kill me.”
“…”
***
The monks and I struck a deal in the face of the sudden crisis.
The monks had no choice but to be taken aback by the sight of the Stigmata. If the monks protected me and survived until the end, I would accept their repentance and grant them absolution.
Of course, it is true that if I performed a miracle for the monks, their chances of survival would increase. But to me, the Stigmata was everything. I still couldn’t use Lux Stella’s miracles properly.
This is a kind of intuition. Some kind of feeling that I would never be able to use it was throbbing in my head. Lux Stella… As the world says, it is so strict about vows that it really only gives me the Stigmata .
But the monks who are seeing the Stigmata for the first time do not know this fact. There was no reason to tell the truth. If they noticed that I couldn’t perform a great miracle, they would immediately turn their swords upside down.
One more thing.
I pointed at the monks who were struggling to block the oncoming people with their swords in front of the main church door and expressed with all my might.
“Oh, oh. Hey! Hey, over there, over there, isn’t that holey? Seven of you should be blocking it, but one of them is in front of me and it’s getting through!”
“Master….!”
“You idiot who got a hole in your crown, I told you that if you get through, you’ll all die, so why are you still standing in front of me? Was it a lie that you were after my miracle?”
It’s really funny how our monk is whining. He’s biting his lower lip so hard that it’s bleeding, and he’s shaking, but he can’t do anything about it. Because he knows that if he touches me, he will eventually die even if he survives.
Since both Yubas and Bishop Powys are rotten, I was their only lifeline.
Maybe that fact was quite annoying. Our monk’s eyes were bloodshot. I seriously raised the back of my hand with the Stigmata engraved on it and gave him a bright smile.
“Our monk, did you vow to be honest and decide to be punished rather than be pardoned?”
“?!”
Only then did I wave my hand at the monk who turned his back and gave him plenty of motivation to live. Our monks are really naive. It’s just that it’s sad that being naive is different from being kind, giving, and not bothering others.
What’s even sadder is the monks’ level of armament and skill.
As you can see from the fact that they were pushed all the way to the main church, the monks’ chances of surviving this attack were very slim. There were several reasons for this. The first was that they were divided and killing each other.
The second is the fact that they are wearing robes without a single piece of armor. This greatly increased their mobility and stealth, but on the other hand, it was a choice that completely lost their defensive capabilities. In other words, it means that they will die if they get hit anywhere.
The last third reason was much simpler.
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The attackers fought better than the monks. To be exact, they were showing better skills in group battles where they formed a formation and clashed. In particular, they were good at pushing with mass so that they could not be stopped with their mediocre swordsmanship skills .
The attackers moved like a giant turtle, with their shoulders close together and their shields raised in the shape of a circle. The monks had no way to deal with them as they pushed forward with their shields.
“Brothers, we must not be pushed back! Block it with force!”
“Grrr…”
The monks are definitely much better at swordsmanship. If they had clashed one-on-one, they would have been swept away by the monks long ago. However, the attackers never fought alone.
When a monk swings his sword, the one in the center blocks it with a shield. When the blade is blocked by the shield, the attackers on both sides stab the sword between the shields. If you get stabbed once, that’s the end of it .
The attackers often dropped their shields and rushed in to finish them off without missing an opportunity. When the monks rushed to save their comrades, the attackers in the back or next to them appeared and raised their shields.
They have the advantage in numbers and formation.
All I could do was lick my dry lips with my tongue. I don’t think the raiders on the coastline would be of this level. The way they marched in unison… it was the kind of atmosphere that only a regular army could have.
It’s really useless in the modern army of the 21st century, but at least in this medieval-like world, the situation was different.
As the monks defending the main church were gradually swept away and collapsed like a sandcastle in front of the waves, I looked at the man who was leading the way to the altar.
A man with a masked helmet and a rattling chain mail. The man with an exotic sword on his waist was quietly meeting my gaze.
“Yubas. Why do you desire my death, Powys’ land, and power? What is it for?”
Usually, if an assassination or scheme fails, it is common to quietly go into hiding. This is also the case with the multiplayer of [Fantasy Monarch]. It means that you are worried about retaliation from your opponent and are switching to defense.
But Yubas rushed in. It is hard to understand even if the farewell from the Vatican was a blow. Yubas was doing all fatal sorts of tricks as if he was being chased by something.
If you consider the thoroughness, it is clear that it was a plan that had been planned a long time ago, but it seems as if it is distorted as if it can’t wait to be heated. I wondered where their impatience came from.
Then the man dismissed the question briefly in a low voice.
“The people who have been scattered for 600 years are brought together as one. Only the national power possessed by Yubas can unite the people of this system instead of the kingdom that perished 600 years ago.”
“Ah. Unification.”
Well… I don’t really have anything to say about wanting unification in my generation. Unification doesn’t always have to be peaceful. It wasn’t anyone else’s business if I dreamed of unifying all five duchies by force and establishing a new dynasty.
However, I couldn’t support Yubas’ dream for personal reasons.
“It’s a wonderful dream, but unfortunately, it’s not going to happen.”
“The third son of Fowys. Your blood will be the cornerstone of the cause. There’s no need to regret it.”
My heart warmed at Yubas’ warm words of comfort. It must have warmed up to exactly ten degrees. I shook my head excitedly at Yubas’ mouth, which was drawing a sword.
“No. I’m sorry because I don’t think that dream will come true.”
“How dare you say it won’t happen, you little brat?”
The leader of the attackers approached, taking my words as a joke. Thanks to that, I was able to gauge how great the assassins Yubas had sent were.
The priest, who had been watching for an opportunity, ran quickly to make his own appeal.
“Lux Stellarsis! My wandering is finally over!”
The sword dance between the priest and the captain of Yubas’ raiding party reminded me of the sound of a snake hissing. They crossed their blades as if they were scraping each other’s scales, and sometimes tripped each other.
“Ugh, pfft.”
The winner was the raid leader Yubas had sent. He stabbed the priest’s throat with the tip of his sword, grabbed his neck, and spat out contemptuous words as he looked down at the priest who was bleeding.
“You tried to block Yubas’ cause with a heart weaker than a reed.”
The surviving priests did their best to confront the attackers Yubas had sent. It seemed meaningless as they were cut down one by one, but surprisingly, it wasn’t a completely useless sacrifice.
Just when the victory or defeat seemed to be decided, the bell rang.
In the gradually diminishing screams, the distorted sound of the bell rose. It was still a long time before sunrise, but there was some kind of magic in the sound of the bell that made everyone shudder involuntarily.
The only exceptions to that magic were me and the raid leader. Yubas’ raid leader flicked his wrist and shook off the drops of blood on his blade.
“It’s nothing. It’s just a bell. Finish it.”
“Well.”
I laughed at the raid leader’s words.
“You should think again.”
***
A bell tower built in a separate house next to the watchtower of the monastery.
There, under the slightly distorted bell, sat a man gasping for breath. A man with a bloody robe and bangs that fell past his forehead, John of the stream.
John was shedding tears and snot as he watched what happened the moment the bell rang.
“Oh my god, my life. How did it come to this?”
It took a long time to break through the cordon while showing the priests who doubted him his pierced head. He barely reached the bell tower and started ringing it, and shadows began to squirm under the night sky.
At first, I wondered if I had seen it wrong, but it was exactly as the Duke of Narva had said. As soon as the bell rang, the heavy iron gate of the monastery rose.
It was expected that the attackers would rush in through the gap. John survived only because he was under the bell tower, out of everyone’s attention, during the fierce melee.
It was nothing to be happy about. John’s life was so fragile that it would end if even one of the attackers came to the bell tower. More sensitive than anyone else to his own danger, John realized this fact at once and rolled on the floor .
“Your Highness… I can’t survive if you come that far. You said I could live if I did as I was told…!!!”
The target of his resentment may already be dead. John twisted his whole body, groaning strangely.
If.
[Booooooooo-]
If he hadn’t heard the faint sound of a horn, he would have continued like that.
“Huh?”
John forced open his swollen eyes from crying. He was bewildered, wondering if he was hallucinating, but he turned his head toward the sound of the horn. Then the moonlight illuminated the place where the sound of the horn had come from.
“Oh, my god.”
John no longer cried. Instead, he grabbed the rope to ring the bell again. He had to ring the bell to death, whether his palms got worn out or not. John moved with all his might, putting all his weight on the rope, with no time to spare.
The crumpled bell rings.
Loud enough to hide the sound of the chains colliding.
Once more, the crumpled bell rings.
This time, loud enough to hide the sound of approaching horse hooves.
The last.
[Booooooooooo-]
So that the enemies could hear the sound of the horn a little late.
“We… can… survive!!!!”
John inspired, pulling the rope so hard that his tendons were popping out.
The sight under the night sky illuminated by the moonlight.
There was a flag with the raven symbolizing the Powys family drawn on it.