The Medieval Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset

Chapter 72



The Medieval-Modern Man With A Gamer Mindset 72

72. Let’s Help

In the modern world on Earth, there is one existence that has captured the romance of many people.

Vikings.

Vikings are famous for their image as warriors who lived freely on a barren land. In reality, they were like that. Thanks to this, many similar characters appear in various media.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that, along with the Celts, who are often thought of as barbaric, they are the ones who wield double-headed axes. There was a similar group in this medieval otherworld.

The heathens from across the sea are the main characters.

Our five duchies call them heathen raiders as a group, but from what we’ve heard so far and from various documents from the church, they are surprisingly humane.

They do not simply sacrifice people as offerings. Most of them are enslaved and made to farm, or sold somewhere, and they also trade by traveling around with the goods they have plundered.

Perhaps the term plunder is too biased. They were like delivery knights engaged in the logistics transportation business in the Middle Ages. They were merchants who had learned how to buy goods cheaply with axes.

One more thing, they shared a trait with the Vikings: they were incredibly strong.

“10,000 heathens…”

“Even if it’s half that, it will be dangerous.”

Whispers grew louder in the audience chamber where the envoys were received. Their masters were all local lords who were sensitive to the safety of their regions. If this was the first time they had ever seen a heathen, they would have been complacent.

However, our Duchy of Powys is the weakest of the five duchies.

Before the peace alliance was formed under the auspices of the Papacy, it was the weakest, so it was attacked every few days. Now, we can be proud of the fact that we have been hit harder and more painfully than the Duchy of Penrad, which has just been burnt to the ground.

What does this mean?

Our lords know better than anyone that the heathens hit hard, regardless of anything else. In the first place, they were a people who had honed their fighting power by fighting among themselves, even without using the power of another world.

Taking care of internal affairs, development, and the people’s livelihoods was my only pleasure, and that was why I had been taking care of the knights’ estates and local lords. How long could Hans, a farmer who had just finished harvesting, last if he picked up a plow against guys who only ate and fought?

The Duchy of Powys, a quasi-state that had neither a professional standing army nor a proper conscription system, was no match for them.

Unfortunately or unfortunately, the lords of the Duchy of Powys had the honesty and courage to state this fact very boldly. Among them, there was one who pressured Sir Gavin the loudest.

“I cannot help but express my regret for the crisis that has befallen the Duchy of Penrad.”

“Indeed.”

“However, I doubt that you really need our help. Your Majesty, if I may venture a guess, I think you should be wary of this man. Is it not possible that Penrad is colluding with Yubas to exaggerate the scale of the invasion and lure our forces away…”

“What!”

A middle-aged man with a unique face, a long mustache that covered his lips, and thick eyelashes.

As I narrowed my eyes at him, who had come up with such a terrible idea, Adeleth, who had been watching with me, spoke carefully.

“Fearthan Orn Barasta. A sentence is a reed that looks up at the Blue Cross Star. As a vassal of his father, he is a count who governs the vicinity of Barasta.”

“What is his nature?”

“He prioritizes the safety of his own territory above all else. That is probably why he is opposing you now.”

He is an ultra-hardliner who only cares about himself. I understand that he wants to suck up the honey of mutual defense guaranteed by the peace alliance.

Sir Gavin was about to rush toward Count Fearson, who had insulted him and his lord, but he swallowed his anger as he knew he had come to ask for help.

What patience! If it were me, I would have punched that guy in the face, even if it meant getting excommunicated.

Even I, who usually maintain a diplomatic approach and a friendly and cooperative attitude, had to turn my back on him.

Count Fearson’s blatant and vile conduct was enough to arouse indignation. Not because he had misappropriated church funds while ruling over a city of three thousand people, just to clear up any misunderstandings.

I would like everyone to know that I do not have any negative preconceptions about the Barasta region, where all sorts of low-quality religious orders were rampant and would swallow up church funds.

However, unlike his personal attitude and conduct, his words had some merit. In fact, Yubas had gone to great lengths to easily conquer Powys.

Right now, Miriam, a living witness, was holed up in the Convent of Saint Arita. The lords, remembering this fact, glanced at me briefly before cautiously nodding at Count Fearson.

Preaching arguments in such a public setting is a kind of group assignment. As Count Fearson took the lead and raised his voice, some who had been watching the situation joined in and added their own arguments.

“Penrad and Yubas are very close. It is certainly suspicious that they left Yubas, which is definitely nearby, and instead asked for support from the Principality of Powys, which is located on the opposite side and lacks military strength.”

“Shouldn’t we find out if they have asked other principalities for help? Even if the attack on the Principality of Penrad is true, it is doubtful that sending only our forces would be of any significant help while the other principalities just watch.”

Even when I didn’t want to study and was just goofing off, I never had such eloquent opinions.

They may be medieval people, but they are worthy of being called the ruling class. The arguments of experts who have studied for generations on how to avoid obligations were full of plausible logic.

Of course, for Sir Gavin, it was like a bolt from the blue.

“Th, that…”

Sir Gavin looked around the audience hall with a face that was slowly turning ashen, but everyone just averted their eyes.

It was an understandable reaction. No matter how close they were in faith, they were still neighbors or outsiders.

It is human nature to feel sorry when a cousin buys land but not to think of helping when that cousin goes bankrupt, saying things like, “That’s why real estate isn’t for everyone.”

However, there is a limit to those who only pursue immediate benefits and regret immediate losses. Especially in a situation where they need to take a broader perspective, they were lacking in many ways.

At that moment, the eyes of those around me began to focus on me.

Sir Gavin’s desperate gaze as he searched for someone to help him, Count Fearson’s triumphant attitude as he looked around and met my eyes before raising an eyebrow, and the attendees who waited for my remarks while pretending not to know.

Even King Athelstan, who was sitting on the throne and tapping his knee with his index finger.

“Bishop of Powys. What is your opinion?”

The reason there was no opposition to Count Fearson’s argument was not because it was so perfect. It was because I, who should have already spoken up considering my position and authority, had remained silent and listened.

It was clear that those who were far below me in rank would not dare to speak up without watching me.

And now, as I remained silent, King Athelstan asked me directly.

Of course, my answer was already decided.

“I believe that Powys, as the greatest beneficiary of the Peace Alliance, should respond to this request for help.”

My words were met with snickers.

The source of the laughter was opposite me. It was Count Fearson, who had been the most vehement in opposing the request for help.

“If you ask a man of the church about church matters, of course, he will speak from their perspective. Even if they are blood relatives, once they enter the church, they are considered outsiders. Your Majesty should be aware of this.”

“Bishop. Did you speak as a man of the church, representing the church, as he said?”

King Athelstan’s question was not reproachful. He was simply asking in a flat tone, as if he were genuinely curious. I looked at King Athelstan like that…

And slowly parted my lips.

“I spoke only for Your Majesty, as one who loves Your Majesty.”

“Oh? How shameless of you, Bishop. You took the lead in handing over the principality’s right of investiture, and yet you love His Majesty?”

“Thanks to that, Your Majesty the King has not only come under the protection of the Papacy and allied with Illenfoot, but has also gained me as a steadfast supporter. And I, taking the invasion of the pagans seriously, can only advise you to protect your political position.”

King Athelstan reacted to this part.

“Protect my position?”

“To be precise, it is to protect the Principality of Powys from the pagan invaders who will come in the future.”

The nature of war changes depending on what you want to achieve through it. And from my perspective, Issei and Insei are like water and oil. Unless one side wins decisively, they are groups that are impossible to tolerate or reconcile.

An abnormal fog rises above the sea, and an assault of a scale reaching ten thousand.

One would think it’s a balance disaster just hearing about it, yet so many fail to notice.

“Count Phaethon seems to have missed the true significance of this assault.”

“…Hmm.”

“Count, please calm yourself. Let’s hear the rest of Bishop Forthwith’s story. If it seems implausible, then you can step in.”

Count Phaethon, twitching his eyebrows in displeasure, was restrained by Prince Aselton, who now showed curiosity.

“Can you speak of this true significance?”

I nodded eagerly in response.

“The sea fog has robbed us of the chance to detect their assault. With the heretics dominating at sea and scouting now impossible, the entire coastline has essentially fallen. The only way to harm them is when they come ashore.”

Let’s not forget.

This is a blockade for five.

“We must force a delay in their assault now, and in the time earned, uncover the true nature and solution to this fog. The moment the fog covers this coastline, the Archipelago of Dawn will effectively fall into the hands of the heretics.”

And this place where we stand is an island.

Dependent on the mainland for this and that, if the coast is blockaded, we’re likely to be beaten until the end. If one is too proud and left to die, we all perish, and if we fail to resolve this fog that certainly seems the work of another world, we die all the same.

Count Phaethon, already a contrarian for the sake of opposition, scoffed nevertheless.

“Fog is a natural phenomenon; is there a solution?”

I brought out the ultimate argument in response.

“The Church tentatively deems this fog the work of another world.”

Now is the age of barbarism and faith.

Dare a mere believer contradicts the Church, and it’s straight to heresy trials.


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