Chapter 325: A Rural Meeting

After several days of trekking, the convoy halted at a narrow pass to rest briefly.

The young men from the Church hardly rested at all; they eagerly unloaded brand-new armor from the mules' backs and, with the help of their squires, donned it, packaging themselves into gleaming, oversized cans.

Over a dozen sets of the latest full plate armor could not be obtained by money alone; moreover, some included custom components featuring the relatively rare beaked visor, inspired by the well-known physician's mask.

This initial investment driven by practical needs effectively won widespread support for the new commander. The newly joined members soon discovered that their superior was an easygoing and generous man.

They had received this expensive gift in Dunling, but the arduous mountain march was unsuitable for adding more weight, nor were there any sensible mountain bandits willing to offer them an opportunity to use it.

Only now, as the convoy finally reached its destination, did they need a striking and flamboyant outfit to display the spirit of the knightly order, demonstrate respect for the masters of this land, and, if necessary, serve as a deterrent to those harboring ill intentions in the shadows.

Of course, they could not simply rush to their doorstep; that would cause many unnecessary misunderstandings and fright.

The correct procedure was to first send the most steady and reliable among them, carrying the letter delivered by the Church, to proceed ahead and announce the visitors' identity and purpose, leaving ample time for the host to prepare.

Since both sides theoretically belonged to the Church system, some redundant and tedious steps could be waived, but a courteous welcome ceremony followed by a banquet was still required.

Brother Lei Mengde accepted the mission of delivering the letter. During the boring wait, Kraft began to survey the unfamiliar territory before him, preparing for the upcoming meeting.

This was a narrow strip of flatland in the mountains, cut into three parts by a branching stream, making the place, which was not visually spacious to begin with, appear even more limited.

Almost all the flat areas within sight were occupied by wheat fields, leaving little space even around the small castle situated at the confluence of the waterways.

The low castle towers looked even more financially strained than the Wood family; not even the fences had been replaced with stone walls, but it included a building that appeared to be a small chapel, showing the builder's conviction that the Heavenly Father would protect him during a siege.

Several trees that looked somewhat aged adorned the fields; perhaps they were left behind because of their broad canopies, suitable for gathering in the shade during peacetime and also for besieging forces to source siege equipment during wartime.

The reflective figure of the messenger grew farther away, like a silver coin rolling on yellow-green silk, having already covered more than half the distance.

Kraft still saw no sentry figure on the tower.

Perhaps there was another way to say hello: mount these eager newcomers directly, accelerate mid-journey, and within ten minutes they could be holding the castle owner by the ears, asking why his dear Heavenly Father hadn't helped keep watch.

This impolite thought lingered in his mind for only an instant, truly just an instant.

As the commander of the knightly order, a compassionate and devout person, he certainly could not do such a thing to the Lord's believers, but that did not stop him from showing a slight, heartfelt smile of relief.

The defenseless, plump sheep indicated that no beasts posed a constant threat nearby, at least not on the surface.

High and treacherous mountains surrounded this outdoor peach orchard; the pass where they currently stood was actually more suitable for building a castle, as half the construction effort would suffice to easily isolate the inside from the outside, with the only cost being that the surrounding mountain slopes would prevent the castle owner from enjoying most of the day's sunlight.

Twelve members of the knightly order were already armed and mounted, forming a line on horseback. Their riding skills, in Kraft's view, still needed improvement, but compared to when they set out, the rugged roads had clearly trained their horsemanship well; at least there was no need to worry about falling off the saddles when accelerating.

The riders were even more restless than the horses beneath them; their occasional small movements revealed that they were not as steady as they appeared, though the discipline instilled by Church education maintained the order's neatness.

Never doubt the showmanship of a young novice when he rides a horse and brandishes a sword.

They did not wait long; Lei Mengde soon returned with the steward of the Priere family and a formal invitation.

"The rookie who accidentally steps into the wheat field later will pay for the next team dinner," Kraft shouted behind him, and the cheering convoy surged through the pass.

They encountered no one worthy of showing off to; only occasionally did farmers lift their heads from the wheat waves, staring in astonishment at the strange convoy passing by and their double-winged Ouroboros crest.

This feeling, which could almost directly overwhelm the castle's heavy metal torrent, slowed to a halt before the fences, forcing a cold sweat onto the castle owner who came to welcome them.

On him, Kraft could see traces of past training, though most had been buried under a slightly plump figure by too long a period of ease; the patterns on his loose clothing were woven with religious elements like wings and angels, and his movements displayed an enviable casualness.

"Welcome, honored guests brought by the Heavenly Father." Baron Priere's attitude was better than expected, the kind of familiarity sustained by a sense of recognition when fellow believers meet, like encountering a distant relative whose name you can't remember during the New Year.

"I never thought this place would one day be remembered by the Holy See again; please, everyone, come in."

The convoy personnel at the rear were accommodated in the castle courtyard; servants brought out long tables that had been idle for a long time, set them up outdoors, rinsed them briefly, and served the food directly.

Meanwhile, the formal members of the knightly order entered indoors, exchanging pleasantries with the host and discussing the terrible road conditions and the changeable mountain weather.

The baron warmly invited the young commander to sit beside him, sharing his favorite main course—several dishes of meat made from unidentified small animals, seasoned with spices, which did not appear to be domesticated.

The other foods were essentially similar to those outside: bread and flatbreads made slightly better but not much, hastily prepared vegetable stews, cured meats, and a small amount of dairy products with a gamey smell.

Kraft tasted a little out of politeness, praising the local cuisine's return to simplicity and natural ingredients, and before the mushroom dishes were served, he skillfully steered the conversation to a new topic, shifting the focus away from the food.

Regarding the transfer of the managed monastery and surrounding estates, the baron showed no displeasure; on the contrary, he seemed somewhat expectant, even though these things had belonged to the Priere family's management for most of his life.

"When I was a child, the territory was much livelier than it is now; the monastery would purchase daily Consumables from us, fruits and vegetables we couldn't grow ourselves, and wheat for storage and brewing."

"Priests and monks coming and going, various convoys, even wandering merchants specifically attracted here; every year, the Church organized markets nearby."

The slightly plump baron was restrained with alcohol; due to his family's religious atmosphere, he only took a few sips of light homemade wheat beer, but his complaints quickly reached the distant past that only someone who had drunk Father Adrian's specially brewed wine in the Port of Solace would discuss.

Perhaps because he had not spoken with outsiders for so long, he talked about the prosperity the Church had brought back then; those past memories had become even more vivid with the passage of time.

It was clear that the deepening relationship between the Priere fief and the Church was a long process.

"Then, boom, suddenly one year came." He clapped his hands and helplessly spread them, like a bursting bubble, "Everything was gone. The abbot of the monastery told my father that they were leaving this place."

Even though more than twenty years had passed, his expression still showed genuine disbelief. "They just left, dumping the monastery, the surrounding land, and even the half-ripe wheat that hadn't been harvested onto our hands, without doing regular cleaning, probably worried that some dishonest fellows would steal something."

"You know, our family are devout believers of the Heavenly Father, so we always sent people to watch over it, letting no one enter; we originally thought everything would return to normal within a few months at most."

"And then?"

"Later, this matter was passed down to me along with the title."

Fortunately, this generation of Baron Priere was truly devout enough to treat this as some kind of test and persist until now. He had been curious, but since there was no need to guard it personally, there was no need to dig to the root of the matter.

"It seems the Heavenly Father has not forgotten his loyal servant; the Holy See has finally sent you." The arrival of the knightly order reignited the baron's hope for the future of his territory; in his view, this was undoubtedly a turning point.

Never mind the rest; these dozen or so suits of armor clearly indicated they were here to do something big, and they brought handwritten letters signed by the Archbishop and multiple bishops.

In fact, that was not entirely wrong; the knightly order also needed to purchase supplies locally, hire locals to repair buildings, cultivate the attached lands, and construct numerous facilities. For the locals, this meant considerable tax revenue and a series of associated benefits.

Sensing that the baron's emotions were genuinely expressed, Kraft was glad his new neighbor was easy to get along with, but he wanted to know far more than this.

Taking advantage of the pleasant atmosphere between host and guests, the new owner of the monastery asked about the state of his property: "Thank you for the hospitality. Speaking of which, we will soon have to start managing this old building that hasn't opened its doors in over twenty years; I imagine it won't be easy. Do you have any suggestions?"

"I'm afraid it will indeed take some time." The baron put down his wine glass, used bread to pick up the last piece of browned meat, and put it in his mouth. "If you do not disdain the humble conditions, I would be happy to invite you to stay temporarily in the castle."

"I will inform the person responsible for the guard to accompany you; no one knows that place better than they do. You may ask them anything you wish to know."

"Thank you for your help." Kraft silently pushed the dish slightly farther away from himself and casually added, "By the way, do you know why the monastery was sealed back then?"

"Uh... I hadn't started taking over the family's work at that time, so I'm not very clear." A hint of embarrassment flashed across the baron's face for not knowing his own territory; he rummaged through his scarce memories to find something to continue the conversation.

"I only remember that before that period, I heard there were a few minor accidents at the monastery, but they should have been unrelated."

"Minor accidents?"

"It seems the spire collapsed, and someone unfortunately returned to Heaven early; a certain monk suddenly fell gravely ill and passed away; and a wandering merchant delivering goods lost his footing on a road he had walked countless times, and later, no body was found at the foot of the mountain..."

"I know of only three or four cases, but similar accidents happen every year; at most, they are just slightly more frequent." The Baron shook his head helplessly; these matters were far from enough to be the reason the Church abandoned the monastery.

"Perhaps there is always a cost to building a monastery on high ground closer to the Heavenly Father. You should also pay attention to safety when climbing the mountain, be careful of the aging parts inside the building, and it is best to wait until the repairs are finished before moving in."

"Very well, thank you for your reminder."