Episode 38

“It is an honor to be able to deliver a speech at such a prestigious occasion.”

The first to step up to the podium at the grand opening ceremony was none other than the illustrious King Richard I of England.

In the Middle Ages, universities were rarely established with such meticulous planning, so large-scale opening ceremonies were uncommon. In this regard, the inauguration of Auvergne University was certainly a standout event.

The turnout was overwhelming, far exceeding expectations and dispelling any doubts about whether there would be enough students or faculty interested. The selection process could have delayed the schedule if not handled efficiently.

“All of you gathered here are the true intellectuals who will lead the world’s knowledge forward. While there are many similar institutions, I am confident that only here can the true essence of the world be explored. I hope you will continue to strive and grow into scholars who can benefit this country and the world.”

As the king concluded his speech, thunderous applause erupted. Next, Cardinal Lothaire, bearing the papal bull, took the stage.

“I will work with you here to uncover the great truths that God has left in this world. Some criticize the pursuit of knowledge as a path that distances us from faith. Among you, there may be those who share this sentiment. I’ve seen many intellectuals who believe that blind faith cannot coexist with reason.”

The cardinal paused, casting a deliberate glance in my direction before continuing.

“I, too, have discussed these concerns with many. However, the Count of Auvergne, who was more enthusiastic than anyone about the founding of this university, had a different perspective. Understanding the structure of the world created by God can be seen as an expression of faith, a desire to draw closer to Him.”

Indeed, in the Middle Ages, science, art, medicine, and nearly all fields of study were so closely intertwined with theology that they could not be separated.

As always, the speech eventually turned into praise for the church, but the audience’s reaction was not unfavorable. In fact, some took the opportunity to approach me with flattery.

“Look around, and you’ll see renowned figures from all over Europe. I never expected to witness such a spectacle outside of a coronation. It seems your influence now rivals that of any great noble, Count.”

“Oh, it’s not that significant. It’s all thanks to His Majesty and His Holiness.”

“Who else but you could move both the king and the pope simultaneously?”

“Haha, you’re too kind.”

The nobles gathered here had little interest in the students or professors. In fact, there were more nobles present to network and build connections than there were students, making it inevitable that the focus shifted.

As the central figure, I found it challenging to maintain my composure amidst the constant grooming from the nobles.

“The weather is splendid today. Surely, it’s thanks to your presence, Prophet.”

“Indeed! With the beloved Prophet of God here, how could there be any clouds?”

“Ah, Count of Auvergne!”

It’s clear that the nobles’ flattery skills leave much to be desired. Their attempts at ingratiation are worse than those of a barista trying to please a customer, let alone a corporate employee currying favor with a boss.

Flattery should be about saying things the other person wants to hear, not just forced praise. I’m worried they’ll soon say something like, “With the Prophet here, the sun rises in the east.”

I sipped my wine and excused myself, claiming I needed to visit the restroom to escape the crowd.

“This forced flattery is so over the top, I don’t even know how to respond.”

It was more of a mutter to myself, but Fatima, who had been listening, tilted her head in confusion.

“Forced flattery? I didn’t sense any insincerity in what I heard.”

What nonsense is she spouting now?

Fatima, seeing my incredulous look, spoke earnestly.

“Of course, Allah would bless all your endeavors, ensuring the best outcomes. Even if things don’t go as planned, greater blessings will surely follow.”

“Uh… right. I see.”

“Honestly, I wasn’t impressed with that king and cardinal we met earlier. How dare they speak as if testing you?”

“Did it bother you that much?”

“Absolutely. Anyone with sense should kneel before you, whether king or pope, and listen to your words.”

Given that Fatima and Nasr view me as almost equivalent to Muhammad, their reaction isn’t surprising. While Islam doesn’t deify Muhammad, his authority is unquestioned.

“Even so, you can’t change a system that’s been in place for centuries overnight. Islam wasn’t any different, was it?”

“If there were such blasphemers, I’d have beheaded them all. Of course, if you command it, I’ll gladly deal with those insolent fools.”

“Yes, yes. If necessary, I’ll give the order. But don’t act without my command.”

I brushed off the assassin’s persistent chatter and returned to my seat, where a familiar face greeted me.

“I heard you were here, but where did you go? Ah, now that you’re a full-fledged count, I suppose I shouldn’t call you so casually. It’s been a while, Count of Auvergne.”

Alberic, who had been sent to France to succeed the Count of Dammartin, waved at me with the king’s congratulatory message in hand.

“How long has it been? I heard you’ve become the Count of Dammartin.”

“An unfortunate accident left the heirs unable to inherit, so His Majesty intervened, and I was granted the title. His Majesty suggested I visit, as I’m the noble closest to you in France.”

“That’s kind of him. King Philip II seems to be quite considerate.”

Knowing his character, there’s undoubtedly another motive, but Alberic is on my side. Whatever happens, I’ll be the first to notice.

Philip II can’t be unaware of my relationship with Alberic, but he’s mistaken about one crucial point.

And that is…

“Hey, look over there. The Count of Dammartin is here too.”

“Wow… truly France’s greatest strategist. He shines just by standing there.”

“Is it true he’s close friends with the Prophet of Auvergne?”

“They say they were comrades during the Crusades, so it must be.”

“Truly admirable. Even after becoming the Count of Dammartin, he shuns vice and devotes himself to faith. With so many women pursuing him, his self-control is remarkable.”

This distorted perception of Alberic. Of course, I intentionally crafted his image this way, but he’s played his part well. Honestly, I didn’t expect him to do so well.

Even I didn’t foresee that Alberic’s lack of interest in women would give him a mysterious, almost monastic aura.

A count who, despite his title, rejects all advances and dedicates himself solely to his country and faith—a remarkable ascetic. Add his past exploits in the Crusades, and it’s no wonder even other men admire him.

I’ve been feeding Alberic information about future events, which has earned him the reputation of France’s greatest strategist. Knowing what’s to come makes it easy to attach plausible reasons.

Judging by the reactions around us, no one suspects Alberic is acting.

Despite the admiring gazes from all sides, Alberic elegantly finished his wine and spoke.

“Since it’s been a while, shall we have a private chat?”

“Sure. There are too many eyes here; let’s find a quieter place.”

I, too, had been meaning to ask about Philip II, so it was a timely suggestion.

I casually set down my glass and led Alberic to an empty storeroom. With Fatima keeping watch, there was no risk of our conversation being overheard.

“Now, then…”

“Marshal! Please, do something! I’m at my wit’s end!”

Before I could finish, Alberic’s previously composed face twisted in distress as he shook my shoulders.

“At your wit’s end? What do you mean?”

“This whole charade of being a strategist! Didn’t you hear them? France’s greatest strategist, my foot! I feel like I’m drying up inside, and my stomach’s about to burst!”

“For someone who’s struggling, you’ve done remarkably well. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“That’s only because things have gone smoothly so far. It could all unravel at any moment!”

Even when we were about to desert before the Battle of Hattin, he didn’t react like this. He must have been under considerable stress.

Wearing an ill-fitting role must have been burdensome, but wasn’t I in the same boat?

Of course, unlike me, who leads proactively, Alberic is in a thoroughly passive position.

The pressure was mounting, and he could feel it more intensely than ever.

“Now, now, let’s calm down. What has been the most challenging part for you? Let’s take it step by step and find a solution.”

“Well, as you suggested, I started by giving plausible reasons and predictions, and they worked like a charm. The problem is, they worked too well. Now, whenever something happens, everyone turns to me for my opinion. Even His Majesty has started doing it!”

“Isn’t that a step closer to completing the plan I mentioned earlier? Getting closer to King Philip II could be beneficial.”

While many medieval nobles preferred to stay within their own domains, there were quite a few who maintained close ties with the king. The current Count of Dammartin was among the latter, frequently crossing paths with Philip II.

“Sure, except for the fact that I feel like I’m walking on thin ice every day. His Majesty is so astute that I break into a cold sweat every time I answer his questions. You’ve met him, so you know what I mean.”

“Absolutely. He’s one of the most brilliant minds in Europe. But don’t worry. People that smart often come up with their own reasons. All you need to do, Sir Alberic, is provide a story that fits the outcome.”

Without prior knowledge of Alberic, one might not know, but he had already built a reputation as one of Europe’s top strategists. With his track record of predicting the Third Crusade’s failure, Richard’s mass purges, and the papal reactions, who would dare question him?

“If you get a tricky question, just say it’s a complex issue with too many variables to give a definite answer. Most will just marvel at how you see things they can’t and move on.”

“Ugh… I’m going crazy. Just tell me, how long do I have to keep doing this?”

“Well, let’s see.”

The Crusades might be stalled now, but a new pope would likely push them forward again with renewed vigor. And the movements of the Islamic forces needed consideration too. Western Europe’s political landscape wasn’t going to sort itself out overnight, so if I had to guess…

“Maybe ten years if we’re lucky? Twenty at most.”

Alberic’s face turned pale, so I quickly added, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get a suitable estate. Then you can play the role of a sharp-tongued critic on the fringes. You won’t have to face His Majesty directly, which should be a relief, right?”

“Oh!”

Finally, Alberic’s face broke into a genuine smile, though he quickly composed himself.

“I don’t know when that will be, but please, make it soon. I feel like I’m barely living these days…”

“When have I ever lied to you? Trust me.”

Even if it takes another year or two, that’s still short compared to ten years, right? I chuckled softly as I grabbed the door handle of the storeroom.

“Shall we head back, then? The greatest strategist in France, Count of Dammartin.”