Chapter 44 - 44 Eavesdropping

44 Eavesdropping

Lumian had to investigate, but he couldn’t activate any abnormalities, causing the cycle to restart ahead of time. He had to consider starting from the peripheral problems and edge in one step at a time.

His initial idea was to find the padre’s mistresses this afternoon and use eavesdropping and other methods to see if they knew anything. If he didn’t gain anything or lacked the opportunity for the time being, he would go to the cathedral to see if he could meet the padre and chat with him about daily life in the village.

Lumian’s first target was Sybil Berry, the mistress of the padre Guillaume Bennet and the sister of the shepherd, Pierre Berry. She had a close relationship with the two abnormal figures, so perhaps she knew something.

Lumian’s friend Guillaume-junior, Guillaume Berry, was a distant cousin of Pierre Berry. Even his hair color was different, and they didn’t live together.

Sybil Berry was twenty-four years old and married to Jean Maury, a middle-aged man in his late forties.

He had been single for more than 30 years. The reason why he could marry Sybil Berry was because he did not have any requirements for dowry.

Lumian suspected that the reason why she married him using only a small amount of assets was that she had already become the padre’s mistress at that time and needed a husband to be her illegitimate son’s father. The padre had secretly promised something.

Although Intis was open-minded, and illegitimate children were common, many husbands or wives were still willing to take their spouses’ illegitimate children under their wing despite being angry when they found out. After all, this was equivalent to having an additional free manservant or maid in the future. Furthermore, they didn’t have the right to inherit any of the assets, but clergymen of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church weren’t allowed to get married and have children. They often found fathers for their illegitimate children.

Lumian arrived at Jean Maury’s house, a grayish-white short house at the edge of Cordu with only one floor. Behind the kitchen was the bedroom, and the other side was connected to the basement, serving as a living room and dining room.

There was no washroom; they only built a shed at the back of the house.

Lumian entered without knocking, quietly coming to the side of the house and squatting under the bedroom window.

At that moment, someone was sitting inside. Lumian could hear their breathing and determined their corresponding height.

Not long after, light footsteps came from the kitchen to the bedroom.

There was no need to calculate. As a Hunter, Lumian naturally had the approximate weight of the owner of the footsteps in his mind.

It was likely a woman, probably Sybil Berry.

Lumian’s impression of Sybil Berry was a woman with soft and smooth black hair who didn’t like to tie it up like other women. She left it flowing down or tied it into a ponytail, giving off the feeling that she was still a young unmarried girl.

Her facial features were not outstanding, but they were soft and round, very fleshy.

At this moment, Jean Maury, who had been sitting silently in the bedroom, spoke gloomily.

“The padre came this afternoon?”

His voice was just like him, rather stuffy. He was the kind of person who usually chatted under the elm tree in the village square, replying one in every four or five sentences. In addition, he was often too lazy to comb his black hair. His brown eyes were lifeless, and his beard was not shaved clean. He looked gloomy.

“He was here.” Sybil Berry’s voice was still a little girlish.

She was born like this.

Jean Maury fell silent for a moment before asking, “Did you do it?”

“We did,” Sybil answered frankly.

Jean Maury fell silent again. When Sybil walked to the kitchen, he said, “I don’t have much to say about the padre, but you watch out for other men, especially Pato Russel.”

Pato Russel was Madonna Bénet’s husband. His wife was also the padre’s mistress.

Lumian, who was outside the window, was secretly speechless.

This relationship was really messed up!

He gained a higher opinion of the padre. He had come to Sybil Berry in the afternoon, and he was having a date with Madame Pualis at night. He could be said to be a model worker in the field of cheating.

If he could allocate more energy in this area to the Church’s matters and combine it with his scheming and machinations, he could have long advanced in clergical rank and become a Beyonder.

The clergical rank was the rank of a clergyman of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun. Starting from the first rank, it was ostiary, reader, chanter, acolyte, sub-deacon, deacon—also known as a priest or padre—bishop, archbishop, and cardinal. The pope was not in the ranks of the clergy.

Among them, the sixth-rank and above made them senior clergymen. In Aurore’s words, it was possible that they possessed superpowers. As for the lowest three ranks, they mainly handled cathedral chores and ritual support. In the past few centuries, they were only glorified titles and were not treated as true clergymen. The fourth-rank acolytes were usually students who had just graduated from the seminary. The fifth-rank sub-deacon could represent a true priest to preside over a cathedral in a rural area.

The situation in Cordu was the same. A fifth-rank sub-deacon was the padre, a fourth-rank acolyte was the deputy padre, and they were staffed with a few servants.

Guillaume Bénet only needed to advance one more rank to become a true priest.

“I understand,” Sybil Berry simply responded to her husband’s exhortations.

Jean Maury changed the topic.

“Is your brother Pierre back from herding?”

“Yes, there’s an important ritual that requires his help,” Sybil casually explained.

A ritual? Lumian’s eyelids twitched when he heard that.

Jean Maury asked, “The Lent Festival?”

“No, it’s a ritual of God,” Sybil impatiently replied. “Don’t ask too much. You’ll know when the time comes.”

Jean Maury tersely acknowledged and said, “Praise the Sun!”

Sybil didn’t respond and left the bedroom to walk into the kitchen.

Lumian instantly made a judgment.

Sybil had a certain understanding of the secret dealings between the padre and Shepherd Pierre Berry, but her husband, Jean Maury, was completely unaware!

The ritual she was talking about wasn’t the “sacrificial ceremony” at the feast. It was likely related to twelfth night!

Having gained something, Lumian left Maury’s house and rushed to the two-story building where Pato Russel and Madonna Bénet lived.

Unlike Sybil, Madonna Bénet was married off with her share of the inheritance. Pato Russel also received his share from his original home, so they could build a decent house and entrust more than 20 sheep to the shepherds for grazing.

Lumian didn’t know when Madonna became the padre’s mistress. He only knew that in the past year, before he hooked up with Madame Pualis, the padre often visited Madonna. Perhaps the taboo from his identity sparked some kind of flame.

At this moment, Pato Russel, who had a gentleman’s beard, was pacing in the kitchen. He asked Madonna, who was busy commanding the lady’s maid, “When will you invite the padre over as a guest again?”

He had a fervent expression, hoping to cling to the person with real power in Cordu.

Madonna glanced at Pato’s father’s illegitimate daughter, who was also the servant cooking, and said in a subtle tone, “I don’t know. It depends on his mood.”

And his physical condition, I suppose? Lumian, who was eavesdropping outside, silently muttered.

“Don’t you often go to the cathedral to pray recently? You can ask him while you’re at it,” Pato Russel refused to give up.

Often go to the cathedral? Lumian frowned.

The padre’s group is planning something in secret in the cathedral?

He really doesn’t give a damn about the Eternal Blazing Sun and Saint Sith…

After listening for a while, Lumian walked from Russel’s house to the cathedral at the edge of the village square, hoping to have a face-to-face chat with the padre.

However, when he arrived at the cathedral, Guillaume Bénet was no longer there. Only the deputy padre, Michel Garrigue, stood in front of the altar.

This foreigner from Dariège had graduated from Bigorre Theological Seminary. Last year, he was sent to Cordu on the bishop’s orders to be Guillaume Bénet’s deputy. He was usually ostracized and was only in charge of the registration of funerals, marriages, and newborns.

During the last cycle, Lumian had arrived at the cathedral and happened to encounter the padre leaving. The latter had asked him to pray the next day, not giving Michel a chance to listen to the prayers and confessions of the believers.

Michel was taller than Lumian. (Lumian felt that he had grown two to three centimeters taller after consuming the Hunter potion. He was almost 1.8 meters tall.) He was a young lad with curly brown hair.

Looking at Michel Garrigue, who was wearing a white robe with golden threads, Lumian spread his arms.

“Praise the Sun!”

After bowing, he stared at Michel, wanting to see how this deputy padre would react to the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun’s etiquette.

If there was a certain amount of hesitation, Lumian would be able to determine that he had been implicated by the padre’s group.

But Michel Garrigue immediately returned with the same posture.

“Praise the Sun!”

He did not hesitate at all. His brown eyes were filled with joy and anticipation.

From Madonna Bénet’s words, the padre’s group often discussed matters here. As a deputy padre, Michel should have noticed something, right? Lumian didn’t ask directly. He looked around and asked, “The padre isn’t here?”

“He’s been gone for a while,” Michel replied. “Three foreigners came here about 15 minutes ago, to no avail.”

The deputy padre’s eyes were passionate, as if he was asking if Lumian would make a confession while here.

Considering that the padre might have taken a detour and hid back in the cathedral, waiting for Madame Pualis to bring dinner over and was eavesdropping on his conversation with Michel, Lumian deliberately sighed.

“Then forget it. I’ll pray again tomorrow.”

Michel’s eyes lost their luster.

Lumian turned around and left the cathedral. He planned on sneaking to Michel’s residence when the night deepened to see if he could get any useful information.

Seeing that the sun was about to set, he returned home and asked Aurore, “Did you find anything?”

Aurore nodded slightly.

“In addition to the abnormalities you mentioned, I also discovered that there’s something wrong with the deputy padre, Michel Garrigue.”

“Huh?” Lumian didn’t hide his surprise.

Chapter end