Chapter 88
Monk Takarion was a lucky man who was born in the right era.
Humans are born and die, irrespective of the era.
Every human is born with some innate talent.
When one's inherent talent matches the era, they become a celebrated individual who lives well and dies content.
The problem arises when one's talent does not align with their era.
Consider a white-collar worker with inherent sword-fighting skills, or a medieval farmer born with coding skills—likely, they will die without ever realizing their capabilities.
"Why is the world so unfair?" one might sob, dying without ever recognizing their hidden talents.
Life is short, and time passes in the blink of an eye.
Even finding and developing one's talent requires luck.
Take Kira, for instance, born with acting talent but unfortunately in a medieval fantasy era—an unlucky case of being born in the wrong era.
In contrast, Takarion, or rather Max, was extremely lucky with his timing.
Like 90% of the Empire's population, he was born the son of a poor farmer.
During the year Max was born, a severe drought struck.
While people starved, Max, only one year old, had to find a way to survive.
Since Max couldn't yet walk, his parents had to find a means of survival for him (if he could walk, he would have had to find it himself).
His parents gave (or rather, threw) him to a nearby monastery, where Max became a servant.
Under the monastery's protection, Max naturally followed the path of a monk.
As a child, Max was timid and fearful, not mixing well with others and often bullied due to his nature.
Feeling pity for him, the monks taught him and took care of him.
Max was amazed by the principles of the world as he read the Bible, and his heart raced at the brilliant exploits of the 13 saints.
Wow! Heroes! Saints!
In truth, saints were far from heroes.
They were dedicated to the Faith, striving to spread the will of Heaven.
But young Max didn't know that.
Saints never lost, always succeeded, and were loved equally by God and humans.
Max, always beaten by the popular kids and ridiculed as a fool, was the complete opposite of a saint.
Whenever he was beaten by the popular kids, he would think: If Saint Marcus saw this... You all would be dead meat...!
Max imagined Saint Marcus appearing and giving those kids a righteous beating.
Holy punch! Holy kick!
You devil bastards would piss yourselves and flee to a sulfur-smelling pit!
Saint Marcus! Please punish these bastards!
"What have you been mumbling about?"
"He's imagining his dad coming to save him LOL."
But Max's fantasies were just that—fantasies.
Neither Saint Marcus appearing to save Max nor the popular kids receiving a righteous beating ever happened.
A normal child would have stopped fantasizing and focused on reality, trying to find ways to be beaten less.
But Max was different.
He escaped into more elaborate fantasies and an even vaster worldview!
Forget the cold reality, let's imagine Saint Marcus...
"Saint Marcus had a girlfriend named Cassandra, a cool beauty with an S-grade body. Her catchphrase was 'Hmph! Pathetic!' Although she pretended otherwise, she really liked Saint Marcus..."
Hehe.
Fun...
Max's fantasies became more elaborate day by day.
One day, a monk commissioned Max to transcribe and restore the [Gospel of Marcus].
"Me?"
"Yes. You know the entire life story of Saint Marcus, don't you?"
Before he knew it, Max had become a famous saint-otaku.
He could talk about Saint Marcus all night!
Being friendly with the monks and having learned to read, Max began to copy the gospel easily.
Not just copying, Max added his own annotations and thoughts to it.
Since a servant of the monastery, Max, wouldn't seem cool enough, he changed his name to something cooler: [Takarion].
Wow. Doesn't this pen name just scream 'Golden Empire intellectual'?
"I've finished it!"
"Huh?"
The monks were taken aback after reading the Gospel of Marcus that Max had created.
While the transcription was well done, the content was bizarrely excessive!
"Marcus shooting light from his fingers, toppling demons... Where did you get this information?"
"An angel told me in my dream."
"...?"
But to dismiss it as mere nonsense would be an oversight; the content was too meticulously crafted, almost as if an angel really had told it.
In this new story, the Saint Marcus portrayed was quite impressive, even to the monks.
Yes, Max, or rather the writer [Takarion], had a talent for creation.
He had a knack for writing incredible fan fiction!
"Max. I'll lend you the library; keep writing."
The abbot at that time smelled money in Max's writings.
Surprisingly, the abbot had the talent of an editor.
His talent whispered to him.
This... will sell.
Backed by the abbot's support, Max feverishly wrote the [Gospel of Marcus – Takarion ver].
Soon, Max's writings elicited an immense response.
"No way! Have you ever seen something this freaking entertaining?"
"Wow! This is what you call a sermon! This is what you call a gospel!"
"Marcus! Takarion! They are gods!"
"...? Isn't that blasphemy?"
The Gospel of Marcus, penned by Takarion, sold like it had wings.
The monks stopped the tedious job of copying the dull old gospels and clung to copying the gospel written by Takarion himself.
The human copiers (monks) tirelessly produced books.
The abbot sold the gospels to cities and merchants.
Takarion arrogantly sat at his desk, munching on snacks while plotting the next installment.
Within less than five years, something astonishing happened.
The previously penniless monastery was now sitting on a mountain of money!
"From today, we start praising Takarion. Takarion! He is a god!"
"No, that sounds like blasphemy..."
A few devout monks worried about the monastery's corruption...
But the abbot, having tasted real money, had no intention of stopping the gospel publishing business.
Before long, Max was more often called by his pen name, Takarion, than his real name.
He had become the pillar of the monastery, a popular star and a great author among them.
"Yo! Shala! My brothers!"
"Shala! Takarion! How was your writing today?"
"Ah, as perfect as usual."
The unlucky boy, who used to get beaten and indulged in creepy fantasies, had become an author with a nose stuck up in the air.
When the legendary author Takarion, who dared to blaspheme gods, descended upon the Devosi castle,
The monks went wild.
"That's Takarion... look at his truly distinguished presence!"
"Ah... my whole life has led up to this moment, to behold Takarion's face..."
"What are you doing! Takarion! Take me with you now!"
"Damn! Takarion! I like you..."
Amidst their fawning and complaining.
Ordinary people like Ian couldn't understand what the hell was going on, but the monks were 100% sincere.
The author of the [Gospel of Marcus], which captured humor, emotion, and faith all at once, was right before their eyes!
Why would they hold back when their life-changing author was right there?
Takarion, used to such reactions from the monks, chuckled and responded.
"Well, thank you for your interest, but it's a bit overwhelming (laughs)."
"Oops! We've been rude!"
"I have so many questions I want to ask you! Ahh... I can't hold back! I want to discuss this right away!"
The monks, having met their favorite handsome author, lost all sense of propriety.
They were so overwhelmed that even the Baron and Baroness Devosi didn't register in their minds.
No matter how great an author Takarion might be, he was still just a monk.
In the presence of Baron Devosi, the rightful ruler and noble of the land, he should naturally bow his head.
However, Takarion behaved as though he was the host, with Baron Devosi and his wife acting as mere guests.
The priests, unable to bear it any longer, exclaimed, "Enough, Takarion! You come here as a guest yet forget even the basic manners required! Aren't you ashamed?"
Takarion responded shamelessly, "Sorry... I've never really participated in society, so my manners might be lacking... I don't know how, but I'll try to improve...(cough)."
"I really feel like slapping him."
"Father Roman! That's too harsh! To slap Takarion?"
As soon as the priests admonished Takarion, the monks quickly rallied to his defense, rising up like a swarm.
There's a saying about like attracting like, isn't there?
With many already finding him unbearable, the defense by the monks only increased the number of people who wanted to curse him.
Ian was among them.
"Everyone's too agitated. Let's calm down and simply exchange greetings," suggested Baron Devosi, managing the situation with composure.
Once the host intervened, no one else dared to speak out.
"Pleased to meet you, Takarion. I am the Baron of Devosi."
"I'm Takarion. But I must admit, I'm not fond of the atmosphere here..."
The priests, especially those who disliked Takarion's [Gospel of Marcus], glared at him as if they wanted to tear him apart.
"I came to help because the Baron is ill, but the atmosphere is too intimidating... I'm thinking about just going back..." Takarion confessed.
Kira whispered to Ian,
"His way of speaking is weird. Maybe he fell out of an apple tree as a kid."
That might be true.
Criticizing someone's manner of speaking might seem petty, but Takarion's speech was so atrocious that even the reticent were tempted to comment.
Takarion muttered to himself with a gloomy expression, "I even brought a special relic for the Baron... If the atmosphere continues like this, I might just leave..."
A devout priest, unable to tolerate the situation any longer, shouted, "Just go back to the monastery!"
Chaos ensued once again.
Ian's initial intuition when he first saw Takarion was spot on.
Takarion was simply a natural troublemaker.
One could only imagine the headache of having attended the same middle school, high school, or military service with him.
'Well, good luck with that, Baron Devosi.'
Thank goodness he's someone else's problem.
...At least, that's what Ian thought.
The reason Golden Fingers Takarion visited the Devosi domain was, of course, to earn the title of a saint.
The 13 saints listed in the holy scriptures are known as 'primary saints' and are considered particularly special.
Besides these 13, clergy who later performed miracles or showed remarkable deeds are called 'secondary saints', ranked just below the primary saints.
While the number of primary saints is fixed at 13, the title of secondary saint can be awarded indefinitely.
Achieving a miracle or notable deed earns one the title of saint.
However, if these titles are granted too liberally, the value of being a saint diminishes, potentially tarnishing even the reputation of the original 13 saints.
Thus, the evaluation for sainthood is carried out with strict and meticulous criteria.
Was a miracle performed? To what extent?
Who witnessed it, and how many were affected?
If Takarion could cure Baron Devosi of his mysterious illness, it would indeed qualify as a [miracle of healing].
That's why clergy from nearby areas, having nothing better to do, flocked here and fell into deep prayer.
Who knows? Perhaps their heartfelt prayers might move the heavens and heal the Baron.
After all, if successful, it's a jackpot; if not, they've lost nothing.
Takarion too visited Devosi's domain with this light-hearted intention.
If the Baron were aware, he'd be appalled by such audacity.
While lives hang in the balance, they come here to gamble for achievements?
But if their gamble pays off, the Baron's illness would also vanish, so as irritating as it was, the Baron had to tolerate it.
That is, if the Baron was still bedridden.
Fortunately, Ian Eredith Raven and Kira Laventa neatly resolved Baron Devosi's issue.
The clergy gave lukewarm applause.
"Wow! Congratulations, Baron! You must stay healthy now~"
As the incident wrapped up and cleanup was about to begin, Takarion appeared.
He was embarrassingly late.
Am I, Takarion, supposed to return empty-handed like a loser?
Takarion was greedy.
Although he had become a star overnight by writing the Gospel of Marcus, he was not content with just being a famous author.
He aspired to become a saint! A bishop! An archbishop!
Starting as a nobody, his dream was to end as a great figure!
That was Takarion's ambition.
He had left the comfortable confines of the monastery to pursue this dream...
It would be too unjust to go back empty-handed now!
'There are reports of evil spirits in the domain of Archbishop Linaein. Let's go there.'
He had initially avoided visiting another's territory of the same faith, but given the circumstances, it was not the time to be concerned about others' opinions.
Even if it meant facing criticism, he was determined to achieve something noteworthy and return!
As the popular author of the gospel, he could count on his fans for support!
It was while Takarion was planning his trip that a servant suddenly appeared, visibly agitated.
"This is a disaster!"
"What's all the fuss about?"
"The relic... the relic...!"
The relic?
Takarion remembered the relic loaned to him by the abbot, head tilted in confusion.
He had mentioned going to heal Baron Devosi's illness, and they had lent him the item...
It wasn't some great treasure, just a plain, round white stone.
"The relic was broken!"
"What?!"
Takarion felt as if his own head had shattered.
How could that item break!
The servant rambled on.
"It wasn't a stone; it was an egg!"
"An egg???"
"Yes! And it has hatched!"
Following the servant's explanation, Takarion was dumbfounded.
"The wizard named Ian touched the relic, and it, well, it hatched!"