NOVEL NEXT Chapter 361
In the Kingdom of Seophone, in the region of Kingsland.
The center of royal direct rule and the capital of the kingdom.
A ripple began to spread among the powerful figures of Bendleig, the so-called hub of power, particularly among the influential nobles nearby.
There was just one reason.
Sir Michael Jackson was active.
“Did the Bloodstained suddenly start moving?”
“Another precious blue blood will flow, I suppose.”
“Who’s the country bumpkin that dared to provoke the Bloodstained this time?”
Michael always ended up shedding blood during duels.
Even nobles were not exceptions.
The vengeful and careless dead noble family was repelled by Michael, who was not yet a Swordmaster at that time.
It seemed his mischief had lessened a bit after joining the Royal Guard, but Michael immediately made those who let their guard down pay in blood.
If it were a more barbaric place, like Iceland, where skill comes first, it would have been different, but there are hardly such regions in Europa.
Naturally, Michael was met with avoidance, disdain, and contempt from the prominent figures while he was active in Kingsland.
Had he displayed even a hint of weakness, he would have been crushed had he not seized the opportunity.
His talent surpassed age.
What surpassed that were family, lineage, and honor.
Michael’s various attributes were full of elements that made nobles wary.
Even after reaching a superhuman realm and becoming a close aide to the king, hardly any noble approached Michael personally.
The knights of the Royal Guard were reluctant to converse with their commander unless it was an official matter.
And so, Michael moving around was quite concerning.
I wondered who the next sacrifice would be.
“Not a duel, but buying land?”
I was perplexed.
“Why would the Bloodstained, who rejected all those bribes?”
“He recruited carpenters and craftsmen to purchase a cheese workshop. It seems too trivial to be called a way to make money.”
“Is he trying to establish a family with this opportunity?”
In those days, if a noble was a first-generation noble, it was normal to endeavor in various ways to establish a family and carry on their influence.
Michael was atypical.
Having earned the title of knight with sheer skill, before joining the Royal Guard, he was more like a free knight wandering around searching for money.
He had rejected offers to entice him with land, accepted a marriage proposal as a consort, and even turned down hefty bribes for employment.
That gentleman, who had been like that until joining the Royal Guard, suddenly?
Before long, nobles figured out the situation.
Thanks to Inamark, who had no intention of keeping it a secret.
The Kongarum Dish introduced at a tasting event in the royal palace.
Along with this and other luxurious, exotic dishes aimed at stimulating the senses.
The currently unfolding antics of Michael led to the conclusion that he was executing a premeditated plan to set trends in the royal palace.
Trends, after all, often generate gigantic profits.
Anyone who couldn’t sniff out the scent of money and power here was unfit to be a noble.
However, the nobles could not move carelessly.
Considering Michael’s past actions, they could take it as a provocation against themselves, and if they failed to cut off the tail, it would be detrimental.
Thus, while they desperately searched for alternatives, they noticed how quickly Inamark’s plan to make Michael a puppet was developing.
The nobles were frustrated. For all they knew, those appeared to be workers for the workshop, but how could it progress so rapidly?
For reference, the staff of the workshop were gathered from those who showed interest in Michael while he was preaching and managed to get food from him during pub visits.
The information agents being pressured by the nobles claimed they were running out of time, but even if they had ample time, it would still have been impossible.
After all, the strongest candidate for the kingdom was stealthily moving around with intent, making tracking him nearly impossible.
Even if they did trace him, the nobles would not trust the informational reports.
Rumors of a cult believing in a false god circulated, but who would ever believe that Michael, a Swordmaster and the commander of the Royal Guard, disguised himself as a priest, tossing money to drunkards while preaching?
Unless one witnessed it directly.
Honestly, even those who saw it with their own eyes still had doubts.
Those who had eaten with that ghastly individual and heard tempting words were left astonished.
The workshop, heavily guarded by armed guards, had their secretive figure in a cultish priest, who used to throw money around at commoners.
“Um… I’ve asked several times, but is the god you spoke of…”
“Indeed.”
Nodding solemnly, Michael pointed beside him as if to humbly present someone.
“This is the very god I serve.”
Karem stood there with a dumbfounded expression.
“So, that young man is the one whom the… cultish commander serves as a god? Not the king?”
“Exactly. You, who are employed by His Majesty, must listen to his words as well.”
“Well, we’ve been commanded by you, so we’ll listen, but what exactly are we supposed to learn from this young man?”
“Just for your reference, this individual is the one who made arrangements for your monthly salary equivalent to three crowns!”
“We shall serve him like a god!”
Three crowns a month.
When summed up, if it were more than ten times an average middle-class annual salary, then surely that was a god. The gods might very well understand.
The employees gathered in this place engraved the name Karem next to their chosen gods in their hearts, igniting loyalty toward Inamark.
With a royal workshop planned, there was no doubt that there would be something backed up by capital brought in by the famous commander of the Royal Guard.
“Now, oh god, the preparations are complete, so you may begin the education.”
“…You want me to teach these people in this strange situation I’ve created?”
“You needn’t bear any burden. I shall remain by your side until the teaching ends.”
“No… that’s not it, huff.”
Karem couldn’t suppress the sigh bubbling up inside of him.
He lamented how things had blown up to such magnitude, but… if he thought of it, the trigger was ultimately himself, so Karem chastised his own actions.
It was already too late to back out.
Before him stood a diverse crowd of people staring blankly.
Thus, there was only one solution.
To complete the education as quickly as possible.
Fortunately for Karem, the workers that Michael gathered through his cultish activities followed Karem’s teachings diligently.
After all, with the royal authority and the control of the renowned Michael, there was no doubt that if someone promises three crowns, even a passing horse would believe it’s a unicorn.
Moreover, Karem had brought with him actual goods, presenting real fermented soybeans and their byproducts.
The first time they caught a whiff of an unimaginable, pungent odor, people were aghast, but since there were testimonies from the cheese workshop that such smells were common, complaints faded.
Utilizing the acorn barrel of abundance for time acceleration.
The sight of various kinds of fermented soybeans appearing at different times.
As Karem demonstrated the resultant fermented soybean paste, Kongarum, and soy sauce, even the skeptics could only believe it.
However, there was one process they utterly couldn’t comprehend and found hard to accept.
“…You mean we must pray over these boiled and dried soybean bricks first?”
“Indeed. It’s a very important process. It must be done devoutly.”
Similar things had happened before.
Offering the finest work produced in the workshop to the gods is a practice common throughout this land.
However, this was different in the preliminary stages.
Praying over raw materials like this was unheard of.
“Um… does that mean it is only for those who believe in you, Karem?”
“I had thought that… if it is inconvenient to pray solely to the three gods, you could certainly pray to the gods you already believe in too. They’re all Yustitia, right?”
“Is that so?”
“Surely, the goddess of justice and judgment will understand if it’s for work.”
Though slightly unsure, the employees began to concede.
The Temple of Many Gods fundamentally espouses polytheism.
It’s common for people to raise prayers to one god or another out of necessity.
However, Karem couldn’t entirely guarantee it.
What concerned him was the process itself.
He honestly had no idea how the fermented soybean bricks were even made.
For the time being, they would pray to the gods as they always did, but would the addition of another deity disrupt anything? After all, they were gods.
To be on the safe side, he had mixed in crushed pieces of previously made fermented soybeans into the new batch.
“Then let’s all offer our prayers.”
“My lord, please discard formalities.”
“Indeed. Regardless, if you’re the renowned chef, you must be esteemed.”
“Not because I’m scared of the knight beside me, I assure you…”
When Karem turned sharply at the reaction for his momentary slip, Michael was already glaring fiercely at him.
“Michael, stop intimidating. What’s with the childish behavior?”
As Michael closed his eyes standing beside him, Karem shook his head. Taking a brief breath, he said.
“Well then, so… this is actually more convenient for you? Okay. In that case, pray in your own way.”
“What are we to pray for?”
“That these soybean doughs do not spoil and are properly fermented, to become fermented soybeans.”
And with that, Karem bowed repeatedly to the numerous pieces of fermented soybeans he designated to be placed upon what would typically be a cheese-stacking dry rack, stacked high with straw.
The employees, nodding to quickly revert to casual speech, were surprised by the unusual prayer method.
Yet, as Michael, standing nearby, had familiarity with how to pray—kneeling with hands clasped in prayer, they felt reassured and followed suit.
But the turmoil in their hearts didn’t settle.
Noble priests were typically summoned to bless items during important workshops, but it was their first time praying to raw materials prior to creation. Wasn’t it akin to praying to stacks of milk or bags of grain in a warehouse?
The employees squinted at the blinding brightness breaking through their eyelids and frowned at the spectacle before them.
Bow, stand up, bow once more—Karem’s back.
A pale light began to shine, illuminating the surroundings.
They had seen sights like this before.
At Bendleig, in the Grand Sanctuary of Seophone.
The revered priests presiding over prayers reaching their closing would often be accompanied by the divine aura they’d seen only above their heads during the recitations of sacred texts.
Ah, so the remarkably revered chef, who had entranced even the Grand Wizard, was actually a devout priest.
The workers might have broadly misunderstood Karem’s profession, but nobody was in a position to point that out here.
Considering the divine power and the accumulated blessings, one might as well be an apostle favored by the gods, with the number of endorsing deities being four, no less.
Karem, the focal point of this misunderstanding, remained unaware of it all, and even if he had, it wouldn’t change anything.
One could only imagine Michael next to him, encouraging the notion that Karem is his god, leading them to participate too. Thus, ignorance was likely better for Karem’s mental well-being.
As such, the employees continued their misunderstanding without uttering a word and silently offered their prayers.
“I thought the knight believed in a cult, but it seems to be the Three Gods instead? That doesn’t seem right.”
“I don’t know why he’s being so devout, but he certainly seems noble. Quite impressive at such a young age.”
“I have no idea what that fermented soybeans are, but I pray for the safety and prosperity of my three-crown job.”
While they were deep in their prayers, one thought gradually arose in the minds of the employees, rising like smoke.
How long will this prayer actually last? A natural suspicion anyone participating would likely have.
However, Karem was just as clueless about how long this prayer might continue.
‘Time has passed a bit, but I’m not feeling the signal to end it.’
He hadn’t noticed at first, but as time dragged on, Karem realized a moment would arrive where he felt it was time to wrap up the prayer.
They had prayed roughly the same length of time on average.
Assessing that perhaps it was due to not praying in their homeland or in a place that was essentially a different god’s domain, Karem prayed with even more fervor.
Yustitia, meanwhile, was taken aback by the prayers.
[This is problematic…]
Wasn’t this intended for another deity?
A household god or a god of abundance, perhaps?