The Death of the Fifteenth Abbot

  As soon as Robert's words fell, Jeff nervously looked around, fearing that others would hear them. Fortunately, at this time, the others had already followed Hoff to the mountain top church, which was the entrance of the mine, and the miners also entered the depths for excavation, so no one could hear their conspiracy.

  "For the Lord's sake, stop joking around, my Master." Jeff let out a sigh of relief when he saw no one was around, wiping his bald head with his sleeve. Although sometimes he would have thoughts about getting rid of that meddling monastery dean, God was his witness that it was just a thought.

  "Impossible. The knights around the abbot will protect him, we don't have enough men." said the one-eyed giant beside Jeff.

  "I know that if it were before, I wouldn't have dared to guarantee success, but thanks to Hof. That stupid nephew of Hannes gave me a godsend opportunity." Robert the monk said with a sinister smile, the pale red birthmark on his face becoming even more terrifying, and in comparison, the one-eyed giant seemed much more normal.

  "Oh, what's the opportunity?" contractor Jeff asked curiously.

  "Come here." Brother Robert beckoned to Jeff, and the two men huddled together, whispering something, the flickering candlelight of the mine's wall lamps stretching their shadows out long, until they merged into the darkness of the tunnel.

  Hof. Hannes knelt in the small chapel, his hands on the prayer desk, silently bowing his head in prayer. The interior of the church was a dome structure, with dozens of stone pillars supporting the top of the church, and a cross-shaped hollow carved out at the altar position, allowing sunlight to penetrate and form a cross-shaped beam of light. This bright shape shone on the person presiding over the altar or kneeling in prayer before it, creating an unimaginable psychological association. And every abbot who succeeded had to spend a whole night praying in front of this sacred altar after taking office, both to attain spiritual sublimation and to further confirm his legitimate status. Of course, for the safety of the successor, the entrance of the church was guarded by religious knights, making it impossible to attempt an assassination here.

  At night, outside the church, the knights lit a bonfire. In the depths of the mountains, apart from the howling wind, there were only the wolves' intermittent wails. The knights vigilantly guarded the only entrance to the church. After this peaceful and calm night, on the second day's dawn, when the first light shone here, the wooden door of the church was pushed open. Hof Hannis walked out, supporting himself against the door frame with exhaustion. Several knights including Woodrow hurried forward to support him, wrapping a thick warm cloak around the abbot's body.

  "Let us return to San Fons now." Hof. Hannis, the abbot, sat in his carriage and raised his left hand wearily, commanding the knights.

  "Yes, Dean."

  Hof. Hannes' subordinates and servants immediately set off, taking everything with them, extinguishing the bonfires on the ground, harnessing the livestock behind the carriage and heading down the mountain. Although the mountain road had been opened up by generations of monks, it was still winding and bumpy, with uneven stone blocks on the ground that made the carriage shake violently. However, inside the carriage, Hof. Hannes was drowsy due to the shock-absorbing seat under him.

  "We should slow down, the mountain road here is not easy to walk." Woodrow rode on horseback, with his own iron helmet behind him, and the chain armor on his body made a rustling sound in the horse's trot.

  "But our beloved Abbot is eager to return to the monastery, we should hasten our pace according to the Abbot's command." Robert monk said, riding his horse slightly behind Woodrow on the narrow mountain path where two people could barely ride side by side.

  "Oh? You're unusually quick to accept the Dean's orders." Woodrow looked at Robert with a hint of curiosity, although they were from the same clan, he didn't particularly like his birthmarked cousin, who always seemed to exude an aura of coldness.

  "I'm just tired of arguing with him." Brother Robert coughed lightly and reached up to adjust the cowl on his head, covering his expression.

  "Hmm." A sense of foreboding rose in Woodrow's heart, and he unconsciously tightened his grip on the reins, furrowing his brow.

  The troop quickened its pace under Robert's deliberate guidance, the rear servants on foot even fell behind and straggled, the loose formation was in disorder, the knights were also confused by this chaotic rhythm, just then, a noisy sound came from the front, and someone's cry of surprise.

  "What's going on?" Woodrow asked, his face pale with shock, as he grabbed a servant who was running wildly towards the back of the carriage. The servant, who had been following alongside the carriage, had fresh bloodstains on his cheek and looked frantic and deathly pale.

  "Something's happened, the Dean fell off a cliff!" The servant's lips trembled and his whole body shook uncontrollably as he spoke incoherently after being grabbed by Woodrow.

  "What? How is that possible?" Woodrow felt cold sweat on the back of his neck, his face flushed bright red as he lifted up the servant and shouted loudly.

  "Cough, cough, the Dean really fell out of the carriage and happened to be on a cliff." The servant was almost choked by being grabbed by the collar, in order not to be killed by this furious knight, he hastily told Woodrow what had happened in the briefest language.

  "Let's go and see then? Let this poor fellow go." Brother Robert patted Woodrow on the shoulder, saying to him.

  Woodrow thought it made sense, so he let the servant go. He spurred his horse and pushed through the crowd to the scene of the accident. It was a mountain road with a sharp turn, on the left side was a steep cliff, and the crashed carriage was stopped there. The two horses that pulled the carriage were still leisurely eating the wild grass by the roadside. One of the monks who accompanied them was lying on the ground, his mouth twitching and his eyes wide open but lifeless. Two other monks were supporting him.

  "This is the will of God, absolutely the will of God." The monk muttered something else under his breath, and the other two monks nodded in agreement.

  "Master, what's going on?" Woodrow jumped down from his horse and walked a few steps to the side of the carriage. He leaned over and saw that the left door of the carriage was gone, probably also fallen into the ravine, and the seat had been lifted open, revealing the springs inside. From the scene, it seemed that the bumpy mountain road caused the seats in the carriage to lift up, while Hof Hannis, the abbot, who was completely unprepared, rushed out from the left side and fell down the cliff. It looked like a complete accident.

  "This is God's will." A voice came from behind Woodrow, and he knew without turning that it was his cousin Robert the monk.

  The body of Abbot Hannes was found at the foot of the mountain, his corpse torn in two, the upper half smashed into a pulp, and the lower half hanging from a branch of a tree growing out of the cliff face. The monks had great difficulty collecting his remains, and according to religious custom, they were forced to sew his body together with fine woolen thread so that the respected abbot could be resurrected on Judgment Day. However, in private, the monks couldn't help but whisper among themselves: why did God let this respected abbot die such a miserable death? Wasn't the all-knowing God dissatisfied with Hof Hannes? Would this not affect St. Fonsa Monastery as well? This uneasy feeling gradually spread.

  "This is all the result of God's displeasure with Abbot Hannes, so I have made many friendly and benevolent suggestions to him about his various actions, but our arrogant abbot has never taken my words to heart, and God knows this." Among all the voices, there was one that criticized the late abbot most severely, namely Brother Robert, whose stern voice always echoed in the monastery's vaulted corridors, with more and more supporters gathering around him, and more and more people willing to listen to his harsh voice.

  The executive body of the abbey, a group of ten, held an election for a new abbot on a day shrouded in fog. In the dimly lit silentium, monks clad in identical habits elected their new leader, usually the most venerable monk or one strongly recommended by the previous abbot. But this time was different, and Robert received the majority of votes, becoming the new abbot.

  "Robert Brothers are you willing to make a sacrifice for the sake of Saint Francis Monastery."

  "Are you willing to carefully guard God's blessing."

  "Are you willing to sacrifice yourself..."

  Ten senior monks surrounded the oak chair symbolizing the abbot's throne, on which Robert sat with a resolute expression. He solemnly responded to the vows that the elders asked him to undertake. When he finished these vows, everyone stepped forward together and placed their right hands on his body, indicating that from now on they would entrust themselves to this new abbot.

  "Has your wish been fulfilled?" Just after the ceremony, in the evening a giant with one eye quietly entered and met Robert in the abbot's bedroom.

  "Of course, but it's just the beginning." Robert was feeling pleased with himself as he looked around the bedroom that doubled as his office, suddenly feeling that it didn't quite suit his style and maybe needed something added.

  "That's great, so you and my master's agreement can be reached? Don't forget, who helped you get on Hoff Hannis' carriage." the one-eyed big man asked.

  "Hmm, watch your words, the one in front of you is the Abbot of Saint-Fons." Robert looked at the person in front of him with dissatisfaction, but paused for a moment as if thinking about something, then continued, "The iron mine of Saint-Fons will still be managed by your master."