"You've misunderstood, my dear Count," Umberto replied with a warm, gentle smile, that kind of sacred air peculiar to clergy—especially when they're trying to persuade someone. "His Holiness and I have no intention of interfering in your domestic affairs. We're not like them. We prefer to stay away from things that are all too likely to corrupt hearts and turn men into devils."
Like power, for instance.
It might sound a little sanctimonious, but during this period, there were clergy within the Church who neither craved power nor sought indulgence. Some believed they should refrain from chasing pleasure and instead wholeheartedly give thanks to God for bringing them into this world. So, they left the bustling world behind, residing in remote monasteries where they lived lives of purity and simplicity, pouring their loyalty out in prayer.
Unlike the later centuries, when monasteries became dens of corruption, these early monasteries were still truly sacred grounds. The hermits living there were dedicated ascetics who kept to themselves and rarely meddled in worldly disputes.
But neither the Pope nor Bishop Umberto were such ascetics, and neither were the doves that followed their lead.
Umberto's so-called "difference" wasn't rooted in pious devotion, but simply because their interests didn't align with the hawks.
The hawks backed war because they sought more power and unmatched status. The doves—well, whether they truly loved peace was debatable, but it was a fact that they had no interest in pursuing power or waging war.
Clergymen were among the most educated people in Europe. From the humblest monks to the high-ranking pope, the higher the rank, the more learned they were. Literacy was a basic requirement—how else could they read the Bible?
Many today believe medieval folk were ignorant and hopelessly superstitious, and that scientific explorers were constantly persecuted by the Church. While that was certainly the case in the later Middle Ages, it wasn't quite so in the earlier period. Back then, before the rot truly set in, the Church's attitude toward science wasn't outright hostile.
In fact, within the Church, many doves shared a common passion—research.
Not just alchemy, but also medicine, astronomy, and all sorts of academic pursuits that captured their interest—though theological study remained their primary focus.
One could say that many hobbies held by clergy in this period would later become forbidden heresies under Church law.
But for now, these interests were merely personal pursuits. There were even small research circles formed by clergy with similar areas of study.
Most doves emerged from these circles. Compared to authority, they much preferred their research.
But because their research took up so much of their time, they rarely held real power in the Church and remained a minority among the high clergy.
Felix clasped his hands and rested them under his chin, asking, "So what do you want from me?"
"The same thing any other merchant would want," Umberto replied. "Just regular commercial cooperation."
Goods from Sardinson County were in extremely high demand—so much so that even limited exports could fetch ten times the price in the Pradi Empire. Unfortunately, production couldn't keep up, and Felix hadn't opened any overseas markets yet.
Moreover, due to Weiwei's aversion to the Church—and Felix's dislike—they refused to let the Church get involved in their business. They could cooperate with merchants and nobles, but not clergy. Even their chosen bank was one with the least Church influence.
That attitude was precisely why Roberto and the others didn't even consider seeking a legitimate partnership. They had gone straight to underhanded tactics.
As mentioned before, the doves had little access to the Church's financial power. Naturally, the hawks, who had both wealth and influence, attracted far more followers.
The current Pope was from the Dove faction. Though he was often seen as a puppet, his authority still held weight. If they could combine that with the lure of wealth, more people would likely flock to their side, easing their passive position within the Church.
Unfortunately, none of the doves had access to any lucrative ventures, and most lacked business sense entirely. They'd never considered how to build up their resources—until they saw the hawks eyeing Felix. When they realized Pope John's old friend was now working for Felix, both factions saw an opportunity.
Helping Sardinson fend off the trade delegation had been their first show of goodwill. Investigating the kidnapping in the capital was the second.
Now that Umberto had made it clear they weren't here to stir trouble in Pradi, Felix's attitude softened slightly. But cooperation still wasn't easy.
"At present, all of Sardinson's products are hitting a production bottleneck. If you only want a small quantity, I might be able to make arrangements. But if you want a large supply, that's impossible."
Right now, every product from Sardinson is tied up in contracts. Felix could set aside a small batch himself, but he wasn't about to break contracts just to accommodate the Church. He had binding agreements, with some orders booked a year in advance. Not even the Church could cut in line.
Umberto, clearly no businessman, had been scratching his head over how to make a deal. But after seeing the wheat harvest in Sardinson, inspiration struck.
He told Felix directly—they wanted to exchange for the methods that made the land so fertile.
Felix agreed readily. This wasn't some closely guarded secret. Nobles around Sardinson had already sent people to quietly learn from them. He'd never stopped them—it just wasn't something worth hiding.
Felix was pragmatic: Sardinson already drew enough attention. If he kept secrets over something as visible as farming techniques, the surrounding nobles wouldn't be so cooperative. Even the king might stop siding with him.
So the composting methods, crop management techniques, and other such knowledge had been handed over to the king when Felix visited the capital last year. Otherwise, the news of Sardinson's bumper harvest would've caused a stir by now.
Seeing how readily he agreed, Umberto smiled in satisfaction and, without waiting for Felix to fetch the promised information, handed over his lead.
"We found the remaining three kidnappers. They're hiding out at a monastery outside the Pradi capital."
As an outsider, it was no small feat for Umberto to dig this up. A wanted mercenary hiding in a monastery had help. But under a nationwide manhunt, there were few places safer than a secluded monastery.
Felix hadn't expected such a solid lead. He frowned. "A monastery? The Church is involved?"
Umberto said nothing. This was a tricky topic for him.
But it was true—without Church connections, no one could pose as monks and slip into a monastery unnoticed. According to his intel, those three had assumed the identities of monks transferred from another abbey. Without inside help, they'd never have pulled it off or avoided exposure for this long.
Umberto shared the monastery's location. "I've sent someone to keep watch. If you're planning an arrest, contact him."
As a bishop, it was a simple matter for Umberto to direct lower-ranked clergy. While monks typically avoided outside affairs, transfers between monasteries were quite common—for example, during renovations. No one questioned a few new arrivals.
They didn't even need to worry about small talk—monks followed strict vows of silence and mostly communicated via hand gestures.
Of course, this was all they could do. With the Church involved, they wouldn't push further.
"Thank you for the tip," Felix said. With solid intel, he was eager to act. "I'll send someone with your requested materials later."
Hearing the polite send-off, Umberto didn't linger. He rose, nodded politely, and left the room.
The servant standing outside guided him back to his quarters with due respect.
Felix pulled out a sheet of parchment and began to write a letter. He had people in the capital investigating this case, and it was time to put them into action.
As for offending the monastery during the arrest? He wasn't worried in the slightest. While Pradi showed relative tolerance toward ascetic monks, that tolerance didn't extend to sheltering criminals.
Once finished, he sealed the letter and sent it off to the capital at top speed.
Only then did he lean back in his chair and let out a long breath, hands resting on the armrests, lost in thought.
Weiwei knocked on the door and, hearing no response, walked in on her own—only to find Felix sitting there, staring into space.
"What's wrong? What did Bishop Umberto say to you?"
"Nothing much," Felix replied. "He just told me they've found the mercenaries who kidnapped you."
"So that was the big important thing." Weiwei nodded in understanding. "And what did he want in return?"
She set down the tray she'd brought, poured him a cup of tea, placed a plate of sliced watermelon and a few pastries on the table, and then sat across from him—looking every bit ready for a tea party.
Of course, she didn't eat much herself. The fruit and snacks were all for Felix.
It was almost July. Even here at Castle Sardinson, temperatures had soared past thirty degrees. Though the castle was relatively cool, the heavy robes everyone wore made it hard to stay comfortable without fans or air conditioning.
The watermelon had been chilled in well water, freshly sliced, and brought over. It was the perfect refreshment. Felix devoured two slices in quick succession and reached for a third without even glancing at the tea.
"He asked for our wheat farming methods."
Weiwei grinned. "Well, that's a win for us. Didn't we already write a pamphlet? Just give him one of those."
Felix had the same thought. They'd been actively promoting those techniques. Wheat, being a staple crop, was a key focus. Weiwei had personally written the pamphlet, which they printed and distributed to villages across the county. Even five nearby baronies sent people to request it, and they'd generously handed out copies. Though implementation was slower there, this year's yield would still improve—making the local barons behave themselves for now.
The paper mill still had extra copies. Since word of the harvest had spread, neighboring nobles had written asking if the yield rumors were true and how such increases were achieved—offering payment for the knowledge.
Every time someone asked, Felix sent out a pamphlet and earned a tidy sum. Some nobles, impressed by the paper's quality, even placed orders. The orders weren't accepted, of course, since their production was just enough for local use. But selling pamphlets was a lucrative side gig.
Oh, and now they'd gotten a key piece of intel back in return—what a pleasant surprise.
Seeing that he was only eating fruit and snacks, ignoring the tea, Weiwei nudged the cup toward him.
She'd added tea leaves to that drink—such a waste if he didn't try it.
Felix wasn't in the mood for hot tea, not even lukewarm. But since Weiwei insisted, he reluctantly took a sip—only to be shocked by the icy chill in his hands.
It wasn't hot at all.
He took a deeper drink—lemon and honey, cool and refreshing, with a hint of bitterness that he recognized. It was that new thing Weiwei had introduced him to—tea leaves.
But more than anything, he was surprised by how cold the drink was—even colder than the watermelon. He downed the whole cup in one go, feeling completely refreshed.
"Did the kitchen buy ice today?"
Northern Pradi had snowcapped mountains year-round. Locals near the mountains harvested ice and sold it to merchants and nobles. It was expensive due to its scarcity and difficulty in storage. Sardinson was too remote to buy it—until recently, that is.
Weiwei said, "Remember how I bought a bunch of saltpeter on the way back? I used it to make a bit of ice."
And not just a bit—she'd bought the whole cart. Saltpeter was mainly used for dyes and fireworks.
Fireworks had only recently arrived in Europe via Asian nomads, but their cousin—gunpowder—was already known. The Mongol invasion had left deep scars, and ever since, Europeans have been eager to learn more.
Unfortunately, just when they had a chance to gain intel—thanks to the Mongols' open firearm trade—war broke out between the Song and Mongols again. The Mongols recalled all their people, and the intel source dried up. No one in Europe knew saltpeter was a key gunpowder ingredient. To them, it was just a pigment.
Weiwei didn't want gunpowder either. She remembered saltpeter could be used in medicine and fertilizers—especially potassium and nitrogen. She'd planned to experiment with chemical fertilizers anyway, so naturally she bought it.
The ice-making was just a bonus. Of course, the saltpeter ice couldn't be consumed directly. She'd chilled the lemon-honey tea by placing the container inside a bowl of saltpeter water.
"Saltpeter can make ice?" Felix had never heard that before.
"Yup! But it's not edible directly. Edible ice takes more effort to make. I've already had some frozen—you can try it tomorrow."
Felix was intrigued. After finishing his snacks and tea, he insisted on seeing it for himself, and Weiwei took him.
He was already thinking about selling ice, but Weiwei had to shut that idea down.
Saltpeter was rare and expensive. Making ice required a lot of it. Large-scale production would need more saltpeter than they could possibly buy. Plus, Sardinson didn't have nitrate-rich soil for extraction.
Besides, she needed the rest for fertilizer experiments. Selling ice couldn't compare in importance.
Felix didn't fully understand fertilizers, but seeing how seriously Weiwei took them, he trusted they were worthwhile.
So the ice-selling idea was shelved.
The next day, Pope John and two cardinals got to sample their first-ever shaved ice—made with milk, fruit syrup, and crushed ice.
After the meal, Bishop Roberto, who'd been restless since arriving, finally asked to tour the estate.
He'd already explored the castle and realized perfumes and essential oils weren't made there.
There was a sugar workshop on-site, but it had paused operations due to the sugar beet harvest being over. The workers had been reassigned. When Roberto toured it, he had no idea the sealed, shabby door concealed one of his targets.
So now, he requested to see the estate grounds.
The Pope wasn't interested. He had an appointment with Raymond for experiments and had already visited her lab yesterday, meeting other alchemists as well. If he weren't the Pope—and a guest—he would've eaten there too. The food looked good enough.
Umberto, having completed his task, wanted to go with the Pope. But after a moment's hesitation, he said he'd join the estate tour instead.
Whatever Roberto was up to, having him around might at least cause some… useful interference.
Felix had been busy catching up on accumulated paperwork. Turning to his wife, he said politely, "Then I'll have my wife accompany you. She's well-acquainted with everything here. If you have any questions, feel free to ask her."
Weiwei smiled politely. "It's an honor to host you. But I'll need a few minutes to prepare."
Roberto was eager to leave immediately, but he understood that women often took time to get ready, so he waited.
When Weiwei finally emerged, the Pope and Felix had already left. Only the two bishops remained.
Oh—make that three. Father Matthew, who had been resting due to illness, was also there.
Weiwei wasn't surprised. She'd asked someone to bring him, seeing that he seemed much better during the Pope's arrival. He could handle a short trip.
Roberto's expression darkened slightly. Another person getting in the way of his plans.
But Umberto and Matthew seemed quite friendly—perhaps they had history. The two chatted easily.
The estate was huge. Even walking all day wouldn't cover it. The bishops, being older, couldn't handle horseback, so they went by carriage, with guards in tow.
The four of them sat together. Weiwei handled the commentary. The weather was hot, and the carriage stuffy despite open curtains—but thankfully it had rained that morning, easing the heat a little.
Roberto kept asking questions about the buildings they passed. At first, he only asked to see peasant villages. Weiwei didn't object.
But when they passed the factory district centered around the essential oil plant and he asked to go in, she flatly refused.
"I'm sorry, but that area contains trade secrets and isn't open for tours," she said with a smile. "Besides, most workers are off for the harvest, so there's nothing much to see."
Roberto hadn't expected such a blunt refusal. Not even a polite excuse. It left him momentarily speechless.
But he soon relaxed.
No one inside? That just made it easier for his people to sneak in later.
He changed the topic. "Yesterday from the castle, I noticed something unusual upstream of the river. Is that also a factory?"
His eyes couldn't have seen that far—it was something his knight had reported.
Weiwei replied casually, "Oh, that's a newly built villa. We plan to stay there this autumn. It's near the woods, and the Count enjoys hunting."
Roberto heard that and dropped the matter. It matched what the servants had said.
So far, so good.