Side Chapter — Archduke Bonodore Investigating Goren (Beddhism)

A certain report found its way to Bonodore Tsia, archduke of Tsia.

“Hm? A Pavella noble is harassing Goren?”

“Yes, my lord. It seems he desires possession of the [Cave of Greed].”

According to his subordinate’s report, the noble was doing things to interfere with business in Goren, though it seemed that none of his attempts were going well at all.

“...I see. And although Keima doesn’t seem to view this as a problem, I believe I should nonetheless investigate this matter myself,” Bonodore said, standing up from his chair and throwing on a long overcoat.

“Are you departing, my lord?”

“Indeed. I will go have a look at matters for myself. You know your mission.”

“Yes, sir! You may count on me.”

All that said, Bonodore’s footsteps were light. He had his own reasons for wanting to visit Goren. One was Beddhist mass, and the other was the High Priestess’s massage.

Rei, the High Priestess of Beddhism. In the past she performed massages in the Dancing Doll Inn, and through achieving the miracle of giving massages that didn’t hurt at all even when done aggressively, she was canonized as a saint. Her miraculous massages kept the church together, and all the other nuns respected her greatly.

Bonodore was busy enough with his affairs as archduke that he could only manage to visit once or twice a week, but he was beyond addicted to Beddhism. Only during Beddhist mass could he truly sleep like a baby. All his exhaustion would be purified by the High Priestess’s miraculous massages. It was important healing for Bonodore, who spent most of his time handling matters of state.

...He made sure that his wife, Waltz, and his sons didn’t see him while leaving the mansion. He didn’t particularly care about them seeing him, but if they asked to come along, he would need to bring more guard soldiers with him. That would be a pain, and in the past he had been so busy with the paperwork that he had failed to make it in time for mass. Bonodore didn’t want to let that happen again.

＊ ＊ ＊

Avoiding his family’s eyes, Bonodore got on a carriage to Goren. He was wearing the poor clothes of a commoner to hide his identity, but his movements had an unavoidable air of power and authority to them, so those riding in the carriage easily guessed he was a noble in disguise.

“Oh?”

“Hrm?”

It was then that Bonodore made eye contact with another passenger. She was wearing the clothes of a commoner, but it was impossible to hide her elegant grace. Or, more importantly, her face. It was undoubtedly Bonodore’s wife, Waltz.

“Hello there, dear. Fancy meeting you here.”

“...Yeah. Same to you. Business in Goren, dear?”

“Indeed. I imagine my business is the same as yours,” Waltz said, retrieving the round holy symbol of Beddhism from behind her shirt. It was silver-colored. From a commoner’s perspective, that was a fairly expensive holy symbol. Bonodore had one on himself. He did have his own gold holy symbol, but naturally if he wore that he would be revealing that he was either a rich merchant or a noble.

“I didn’t know you had joined Beddhism, dear. I thought for certain you were a devout follower of the Ivory Church.”

“My, my, dear. Beddhism is a sub religion publicly approved by the Ivory Goddess herself. This is perfectly fine.”

“Very true,” Bonodore replied before they clinked their holy symbols together. It was a common greeting performed by Beddhists.

“Hey, hey, you two joined Beddhism as a couple, huh?”

“What a coincidence, I’m a Beddhist too. Oyasuminasai and all that.”

“Are you heading to mass? Same here.”

That prompted several other passengers with similar holy symbols hanging from their necks to call out. Some Beddhist merchant had spread the idea that tapping your holy symbol against a higher quality one in greeting would boost your good fortune. Iron was better than bronze, silver was better than iron, gold was better than silver, and finally the ruby symbol the High Priestess held was better than gold, and finally, finally, finally, the massive holy symbol in the church was better than everything.

These passengers probably wanted to exchange greetings to get that boosted luck. Bonodore and Waltz were glad to oblige.

“Take a look. I made this wooden holy symbol myself.”

“Oh, splendid. Allow me to exchange a greeting.”

“Hey, man, I engraved mine with wheat to hope for a more bountiful harvest.”

“Splendid. Tsia is a grain basket, after all. Allow me to exchange a greeting.”

The fact that hand-made symbols and those with dreams carved into them were considered high quality as well just went to show how compassionate Beddhism was.

“Given that you speak of wheat, I imagine you are a farmer? What say you on the state of this year’s wheat?”

“Not bad at all. I’ve got lots of buyers from Pavella.”

“Oh? All thanks to that tunnel, I suppose. We have gotten much closer to Pavella than ever before.”

“Yep. So much so that traveling merchants come to buy it straight from me, no middlemen. Though people like that are pretty suspicious and I turn them all down.”

They exchanged information casually while performing the greeting. Bonodore had been known as a populist leader for his tendency to descend to cities and talk to commoners himself, but he was firmly rooted in noble habits which had kept some distance between him and the commoners until Beddhism came to bridge the gap.

“Hm... I suppose more traffic means more suspicious fellows mixing in with the others as well. I’ll ask a friend of mine to keep an eye out for them.”

“Oh, that’d be great. I’m sure I can trust any friend of yours, man. Beddhism proving itself so beneficial to us all once again, huh? Hahah!”

They continued their mutually beneficial conversation until arriving at Goren. The carriage shook significantly more than most noble carriages did, but thanks to the cushions sold in Goren it was hardly a bother. Unlike the thick cushions used in noble carriages, they were cheap and easy to carry, so even commoners had them. It literally saved the asses of those nobles traveling in secret. Especially since lately carriages were preemptively installing cushions.

“Now then, shall we head to mass? I would like to get a front row seat. I sleep more soundly there than anywhere.”

“Oh my, I always go for the back row. It is easier to get books there. I always read until it is time for mass to start.”

“...Waltz, I thought you received exceptional grades back in school. Are any books there still of interest to you?”

“But of course. Dear, don’t tell me, have you never looked at the books there before?”

“Ngh... I-I learn through experience. Though I did notice there were farming books among them.”

Waltz let out a sigh.

The Beddhist church had fully stocked bookshelves. Among the books were some describing farming techniques not widely known in the Laverio Empire (including some memos likely from Pavella, describing how to spread cooked seashells in farmland).

Incidentally, for some reason the Beddhist bible was not included among these books—which was strange, considering most churches would make copies of their holy text available first and foremost. It was a religion so unconcerned with spreading its own teachings that it actually kind of made you worried. Though it would be even worse if they were super pushy about it like the Church of Light.

“I will borrow one later. If I can just make a single copy of it, I am sure you will understand what a wonderful book it is.”

“P-Pick an easy one, if you would. Wait, they allow the books to be borrowed?”

“Normally, they only let townsfolk borrow books, but I revealed my identity and negotiated with money to broker an agreement.”

The fact that Keima lent expensive books to townsfolk for free showed just how noble his goals for the town really were. But Bonodore thought that he was being too virtuous, to the point of simply letting his guard down.

Bonodore’s thoughts were interrupted, however, when someone pulled on the back of his shirt and stopped him from entering the church. It was his wife, Waltz.

“Dear. It seems there was a thief.”

“Hrm?”

Bonodore glanced down and saw a hole at his feet. At the bottom was a merchant-looking fellow, bound and unable to move.

...Such was the fate of one who stole books. Some magic tools or the like worked together to create the pitfall. Bonodore had no idea how it worked, but he believed there was a magic tool-making smith somewhere in the town.

The hole slowly closed. He saw a nun appear at the bottom of the pit through a door and bow right before the hole closed entirely, so he could imagine that the criminal had been safely captured.

“...I’d like one of these in our own estate.”

“Agreed, dear. Though it does seem that innocents do fall alongside the thieves by mistake at times.”

“That’s no good. Does anyone complain?”

“In those cases, nuns cast {Purification} and give them massages for free. In fact, it seems that they end up glad to have fallen, with the criminals suffering far more than they do thanks to the power of karma.”

“All a matter of perspective, then...? Karma and virtue truly are convenient words. They give religion strength.”

Incidentally, jumping in intentionally got you neither {Purification} nor a massage. It was bad karma.

With that out of the way, Bonodore and his wife safely attended mass. They brought their own cushions with them and used them as pillows to sleep. When they woke up, they felt as refreshed and good as ever. They did feel a bit stiff due to falling asleep at a desk while sitting, but they had plans to receive massages later so that was no problem at all.

“Incidentally, dear. Did you know that the High Priestess is currently back to giving massages only on reservation?”

“...Come again?”

“Ohoho. Behold my reservation ticket. No, I shan’t give it to you,” Waltz said while holding up a wooden card with an insignia burnt into it.

“Ngh! This is awful. My spies told me nothing of this!”

“It seems she had to resort to reservations due to more people visiting again. I happened to meet the High Priestess and discuss matters before mass thanks to reading in the back... Regardless, I hope you enjoy the point press massages of the other nuns.”

“Grr! But those are painful, and you know it!”

“How sad for you,” Waltz said with a giggle.

It is our secret that Bonodore’s mission turned into a date with his wife, and he ultimately returned having investigated nothing of the Pavella noble harassing Goren, earning the cold glare of his disappointed steward. Ultimately, he just said that if he hadn’t experienced any problems on his date, the problem was probably insignificant enough for Keima to handle on his own.