Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Chapter 203 The Road to Redemption

Chapter 204 The Road to Redemption

He was in great pain and filled with remorse, and frantically ran to the church to pray to the old priest.

Due to the principle of secrecy, the old priest could not reveal his crimes.

Even if it were revealed, it would be meaningless, because Taras Muller was a nobleman, and nobles who kill commoners cannot be convicted.

Outside, countless nobles and bandits wreaked havoc, burning, killing, and looting with impunity, showing no remorse whatsoever, not even a single apology. Müller, at least, felt remorse, and possessed a modicum of noble spirit and integrity.

Just then, a major mining accident occurred at the bottom of the mine, and rumors of the "Mouth of Hell" spread. Seeing that Sir John Müller was determined to repent, the old priest took advantage of the situation and pointed Müller to an endless path of redemption—to guard the "Mouth of Hell."

Because the mine had just experienced a major collapse, it was very unstable and had an extremely foul odor. The sulfur mine also contained toxic gas, and the priest originally thought he wouldn't survive a year in the mine.

But it was impossible for him to die immediately upon going down there. In order for the sinner to complete his martyrdom, the priest had no choice but to tell the villagers that he was going to send food down to sacrifice to the devil, while concealing the truth about the pact.

The original agreement was that a year later, a new guardian would be found for the Pit of Hell, while the former guardian would finally be able to see Heaven again, receive God's love, and have all his sins forgiven.

But the priest never expected that Müller would be so resilient and simply not die.

And so, year after year passed, and before we knew it, six years had gone by.

While Müller was still alive, the priest died in an accident.

This led to the arrival of the new priest, who stopped the ceremony. Unable to bear the hunger any longer, Müller crawled out, partly to eat and partly to vent his anger, killing two cows, which sparked a conflict.

After hearing this long and tragic account, everyone couldn't help but sigh, and some soft-hearted villagers even secretly wiped away their tears.

Father Marian looked somber, repeatedly making the sign of the cross on his chest and whispering the name of God, praying for forgiveness and mercy.

Only Müller himself, after releasing the painful memories accumulated over six years, fell into a prolonged slump.

Finally, he said slowly, in a weary tone as if he had seen through everything, "Actually—the priest—didn't really forgive me, did he?"

He always wanted me to die. Did he?

There was never—there was never any successor—it was all just a lie—a lie—that led me to willingly walk towards death—right?

What do you think?

Peter did not answer directly, but instead forced Müller to confront the most brutal possibility with a sharp rhetorical question.

"Hehe—hehehe—"

Muller lowered his head and let out a series of chilling, low laughs, filled with self-mockery, despair, and near-collapse madness.

"My life — is a joke — a complete joke!"

They fought for God—yet were routed like stray dogs in Nicopolis;

To guard the gates of hell for God—but the result—was that someone else's scheme to have me die quietly—

I stood there—enduring six years of arduous struggle—fighting against boundless darkness and the demons within myself—

What was it all for? Heh heh heh—what was it all for?!

"To atone for our sins!"

Peter shouted again, his voice booming like a bell, shaking the very soul.

"What do you think life is?! Is it something you can take away at will, then easily obtain forgiveness by merely crying a few times in the confessional or donating a few blood-stained silver coins to the church?!"

Can you erase the lives of that innocent family of three, their pain and despair, with just a few words of repentance?!

"I—I—"

Müller was rendered speechless by the question. Peter's rebuke was like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the flames that were about to drive him to utter madness and pulling his faltering conscience back to the edge.

"However, your six years of perseverance there were not in vain!"

Peter's tone softened, but remained firm: "You endured darkness and loneliness that ordinary people cannot imagine, and you persevered with a persistence and patience that even many believers may not be able to achieve!"

Father Richard, perhaps at the beginning—did indeed intend for you to end your own life down there—”

He paused, giving Mueller time to process it, "But I firmly believe! In the years to come, when he sees your year-after-year, almost miraculous perseverance, sees that even in your madness you haven't completely given up fighting the demon—perhaps the demon within you—his thoughts will surely have changed!"

"Really?!"

Muller raised his head, and through the eye openings of his visor, a faint flame of hope could be seen rekindled in his eyes.

"Yes!"

Peter nodded emphatically, then turned to Chris and Brienne, "Bring that box over here."

The two men carried the box containing fine weapons and armor, which they had retrieved from Vladimir, to Müller as instructed.

Peter pointed to the equipment in the box and said, “Take a good look at this suit of armor, Sir Muller. It was found under the bed of the late Father Richard.”

Its size was perfectly tailored to the priest's physique, and it showed clear signs of wear and maintenance.

Peter picked up a piece of breastplate, pointing to some subtle adjustments and wear marks. "Perhaps the priest had long ago prepared that one day he would don this carefully prepared armor, and as a successor, descend into the mine to replace you, Sir Taras Mueller, from this endless atonement, giving you true freedom and forgiveness. It's just—what a pity,"

Peter's tone was full of regret, "He died at the hands of the Cumans before he could implement this plan."

"The priest—he actually—want to replace me with himself?!"

Muller was struck dumb. He knelt down with a thud, and stretched out his trembling, dirty and calloused hands to gently stroke the suit of armor and the sharp sword in the box. The suit of armor was very similar in style to the one he was wearing, but much better maintained.

Tears welled up like a burst dam, streaming down the seams of the helmet and mixing with the grime.

The sobs he let out were no longer frantic roars, but rather a mournful cry from the depths of his soul, filled with complex emotions.

The sound was so loud that the surrounding villagers could hardly bear to listen. Their previous fear and disgust towards him were gradually replaced by immense grief and deep respect.

"Father Richard—he—he was a good man—"

Muller wept for a long time before gradually calming down. He raised his head, his gaze fixed firmly on Peter through his visor, "He—he not only tried to cleanse my sins—but also—he saved my soul from utter ruin—"

After a moment of silence, the sadness in Muller's eyes was replaced by a burning rage, the murderous aura of a knight honed on the battlefield.

"Your Highness," his voice, though still hoarse, was full of strength, "you said—the priest was killed by the Cumans?"

Why—why are these heretics appearing in Bohemia?

Please—you must tell me where these blasphemous executioners are! I'm going—I'm going to kill them!

Avenge the merciful Father Richard!

His fists clenched tightly. The rage within him burned fiercely, almost bursting through his rusted armor. He pressed on with murderous intent, as if he had found a new purpose and meaning for the rest of his life.

"That's a long story. But—"

Just as Peter was about to explain the current situation in detail, he heard a loud and rhythmic birdsong coming from the woods outside the village—

That was a signal from the "Red Spiders" on guard duty, indicating that the Hungarian grain requisition team was approaching the village.

Peter abruptly changed the subject, his gaze drifting towards the woods, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps you won't have to wait long. You can join the ranks of these uninvited foreign invaders who have trespassed into our homeland—"

Find those "heretics" you call them and take revenge on them yourself.