The arrival of an unwelcome guest.
If it were up to me, I would scatter some salt and chase him out.
But, doing such a thing would undoubtedly tarnish my honor and reputation, which are just as important as my life in the eyes of any noble.
“I’m not sure why you’re here, Your Excellency the Archbishop. You haven’t mentioned the purpose of your visit.”
The butler shook his head upon hearing my words.
“He didn’t say anything specific, My Lord. He just mentioned that he has something he must tell you.”
Though he didn’t explain the reason for his visit, it’s clear why he traveled all the way here. He’s come for a donation, hasn’t he?
Damn it, even if the large churches are utterly corrupt, they don’t usually go this far to harass the faithful. I just can’t understand why he’s being so persistent, especially in this area.
“Call Erica and have her bring some tea.”
Even though I don’t want to see this man, he is the Archbishop. It’s best to act as politely as possible, at least outwardly, to avoid any issues.
With a heavy heart, I headed to the drawing room where the Archbishop was waiting.
I had been feeling good recently, but now my mood was soured by his presence.
“Your Excellency, it is truly an honor to have you visit my humble home.”
“What do you mean? Although the house is a bit small, I must say that you’ve decorated it quite nicely. It has a refined yet cozy atmosphere.”
The Archbishop’s words were as obnoxious as they come.
He dared to visit uninvited and, when offering a pleasantry, added, “Well, your house is small.” How disrespectful!
Did he perhaps throw his manners away at the cathedral or somewhere far off?
If I had the chance, I’d love to teach him some basic decency.
‘Of course, he’ll probably act like a sycophant in front of someone more powerful, and that’s how he keeps rising through the ranks.’
“That’s very kind of you to say.”
The Archbishop looked me over with a chilling smile, his gaze lingering in a way that would’ve made anyone uncomfortable. If we lived in an age of social media, that smile alone would’ve been enough for him to be suspected of something criminal, probably ending up in police custody for questioning.
I was very glad I hadn’t brought Chloe with me. She still has trouble talking to men, and the last thing I wanted was for her to witness that.
“Such a blessed man as yourself, so virtuous. Your looks are as fine as your character, and you are as tall as they say. Now I understand why the Bishop of Pisa praised you so highly.”
It was the same tired, patronizing compliment I’d heard countless times before.
“Sir, you have such a wonderful aura. However, your recent troubles seem to stem from not properly honoring your ancestors.”
At this point, it was clear he was trying to manipulate me into giving him money, just like those preachers who approach you with “do you know the way?” right before asking for donations.
And this nonsense was coming from an Archbishop, a person who should know better.
Honestly, I felt a bit dizzy from the absurdity of it all.
“But there is one thing you’ve overlooked. I’ve come here today to enlighten you about it.”
“Please, teach me, your humble and foolish servant.”
Urban the Archbishop smiled warmly at me, his greed practically radiating from him. He would no doubt be heading straight to hell after he dies.
“Deus has allowed you to perform great deeds, but how is it that you’ve yet to make an offering of thanks?”
Just hearing it made my head spin.
What he referred to as an offering of thanks was simply money taken from the faithful, supposedly given in gratitude. The concept of "thanksgiving offerings" in this world was absurd.
I’ve always known that the money priests collect isn’t really an act of sincere gratitude but a way to exploit the people. Yet here, it seemed that “thanksgiving” was just a pretext for him to demand money.
The Bible says the apostles were poor, even to the point of being pitied by the common folk, and they lived in dire circumstances while preaching.
Not one of them died peacefully. The most severe persecutions saw them burned at the stake for their faith, but still, they gave what little they had to the poor.
Those were the great men I respect. But now, here I was, being lectured by a man who talks about faith while lining his pockets.
Where was Deus when this was happening? Why wasn’t he punishing men like this?
Despite my thoughts, the Archbishop continued to speak.
“If one receives, it is only right that they repay what they have received.”
This was the kind of nonsense priests use. They walk around collecting offerings by day and harassing women or stuffing money into the hands of prostitutes by night.
The same kind of idiocy came from the mouth of someone who should be preaching morality.
I wanted to shout at him, “How dare you, blasphemer!” and smash his head in.
But I knew that acting on that impulse would lead to my own demise.
‘Just hold on for now. I’ll get my revenge later.’
“That’s true. I’ll donate to the church, as you’ve advised.”
The Archbishop frowned upon hearing my response.
“Hmmm. Actually, my diocese, Urbano, has been facing some financial difficulties. I’ve been working hard to aid the poor, and I’ve been planning to build a large cathedral to raise the church’s prestige, but it’s been costly.”
He was spewing nonsense so smoothly, I could barely believe it.
“I will need a large sum of money. Fortunately, Deus has allowed you to earn such a vast fortune, so it is only right for you to offer part of that to help fund his work. You should donate exactly 25,000 gold coins.”
“Excuse me?”
“25,000 gold coins. For a man of your standing, that amount isn’t much, is it?”
Was he out of his mind?
25,000 gold coins was enough to operate a small barony for three years without collecting taxes.
Asking for that amount was outrageous—equivalent to asking a small town’s budget for three years.
Even the British Empire would consider this excessive.
The audacity of this scoundrel!
“But I too have spent a considerable amount saving the lives of hundreds of thousands. Financially, I am not in a position to give away such a large sum at this moment. I will have to tighten the purse strings starting tomorrow.”
In truth, I hadn’t lost a penny from the epidemic and military supply efforts. In fact, I was actually earning more money than ever, and now I had to figure out how to spend it quietly.
‘I was even planning to start my own East India Company... until this bastard ruined it.’
No, 25,000 gold coins wouldn’t ruin my plans, but it was still an annoyance.
For now, my best course of action was to swallow my pride and try to negotiate that absurd amount down.
Even gambling gods, when faced with tax collectors, would grovel and beg. As an ordinary person, what choice did I have but to humble myself and beg for mercy?
If I didn’t, the amount could easily double to 50,000 gold coins.
Pride was important, but it was less important than money—especially in a situation like this.
“Well, Deus has granted you this great fortune. How can you be so stingy?” the Archbishop exclaimed, striking the floor with his staff.
If anyone else were watching, they might think I had done something wrong, but I couldn’t care less.
“The Lord said, ‘Do not worry about tomorrow’s bread, for He feeds the birds of the air. The lilies of the field are clothed by Him, so why do you worry about your clothes?’ Deus will surely bless you with even more riches in return for your generosity!”
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It was a ridiculous statement, one I certainly didn’t expect.
A scheme concocted by the Duke of Sforza’s faction, using the most backward kind of “pre-Reformation Catholic logic.”
‘This is the moment I failed to prepare for.’
If I resisted further, I would earn a reputation as a miserly man, and the 25,000 gold coins could easily become 100,000.
‘Wait for the moment to strike back with vengeance.’
“I will repent. I will make sure the 25,000 gold coins are sent to the Archbishop’s cathedral within fifteen days.”
“Well, I will grant you absolution without confession this time.”
This vile creature...
With that, the Archbishop left, laughing heartily, and helped himself to my coffee and snacks.
I had a sinking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time something like this would happen.
Maybe it’s time to finally make a move against the church.
“Find out any rumors circulating about the Vatican. Even the smallest tidbit will do. Bring them all.”
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread as I spoke. I had underestimated the Archbishop's persistent tactics, and now the situation had escalated. My plans for revenge had only begun, but I had to be careful in how I played the game. The church, with its deep roots, was no small opponent, but with enough information and the right moves, I would find a way to strike back.
The Archbishop’s greedy smile had gnawed at me more than I had anticipated. The sheer audacity of his demand—asking for 25,000 gold coins with no remorse—had only solidified my resolve. I knew he wasn’t going to be the last to make such demands, and that I needed to be prepared for more.
I would not let this slide. Not now, not ever.
The church may hold power, but in this game of politics, I had my own weapons—patience, cunning, and the knowledge that every wrong move on their part would only lead them closer to their undoing.