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SMW C12 Debate
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 13:49:00 +0000 UTCAlexander stared at the bizarre gathering in his chamber—a priest, his uncle, his father, and even Fritz the cook all crowded around his bed. His face showed complete bewilderment.
What's happening here? Did I miss something important after I lost consciousness? he wondered, still vividly recalling his dream of being a mighty warrior commanding respect on the battlefield. He'd enjoyed that vision of strength and authority, only to wake up to this chaotic scene.
The sharp scent of blessed oils and holy water filled his nostrils. He eyed the bald priest warily. What did he do to me while I was unconscious?
Meanwhile, his mother continued clinging to him desperately, repeating through her tears: "I thought I'd lose you forever!"
This only deepened his confusion. What does she mean? I'm obviously fine—better than fine, actually. I can feel strength and vitality coursing through my body like never before.
Aldric's stern voice cut through the emotional atmosphere. "Alexander, this time your reckless behavior has gone too far." His tone was ice-cold. "How could you do something so dangerous and irresponsible?"
Ermelinde gripped both of Alexander's arms, staring directly into his eyes with a mixture of relief and anger. "For once, I agree completely with your father. What you did was utterly unacceptable!" Her voice trembled with emotion. "You didn't just risk your own life—you endangered everyone in this castle!"
"I concur," Reinhard added grimly. "The servants may be peasants of little worth, but they're still useful to us. Risking their lives for your amusement is both terrible and sinful."
Alexander felt utterly lost. "What... what are you all talking about?"
Aldric sighed heavily. "Don't pretend ignorance, Alexander. We know everything." He gestured accusingly. "How you brought those cursed root vegetables into our castle and prepared a meal from them—then fed that tainted food to innocent servants."
He pointed at the trembling Fritz. "And this fool enabled your madness by helping you cook that evil concoction, which has clearly brought a terrible curse upon you."
Understanding finally dawned on Alexander. Ah, I see what happened. He looked at the terrified Fritz, then at his distraught family. They discovered I used potatoes in the stew, and they're blaming the potatoes for whatever happened to my body when I applied those Health Points.
Father Hensfried stepped forward, his voice carrying religious authority. "My lord, though the young lord has awakened, he may still be under the influence of dark forces. We must complete the purification ritual and make the necessary sacrifice." He nodded toward Fritz. "This man's willing sacrifice could cleanse the remaining corruption."
Before Aldric could voice his agreement, Alexander bolted upright in bed, his voice ringing with unexpected command: "Stop! I forbid you to continue this ritual!"
Everyone turned to stare at him in shock, surprised by the sudden strength and authority in his young voice.
Aldric's frown deepened as his voice took on a commanding tone. "And why exactly should we halt this ritual? Are we supposed to pretend everything is fine when we know a curse may be festering within you?"
Ermelinde gripped his arm tighter, her voice thick with worry. "Listen to your father! You've consumed something truly evil!"
Father Hensfried stepped forward with solemn authority. "This purification is absolutely necessary, young lord. What you consumed is known as the 'Devil's Apple'—a root that carries darkness and corruption. Your small body cannot withstand such malevolent forces--"
Alexander cut him off with surprising firmness: "I am not cursed, and I am certainly not ill." His gaze was steady and strong. "The root vegetables have caused me no harm whatsoever. Instead of bringing evil and curses, they have given me strength and divine blessing."
Shock rippled through the room at his bold declaration. Father Hensfried's eyes blazed with righteous indignation as he raised his crucifix. "Blasphemy! Such unholy words! There is no possible way that cursed vegetation fit only for swine could bring anything but damnation and suffering!"
Alexander felt a remarkable mental clarity following the Health Points integration into his body—his thoughts were sharper, his energy boundless. "Then how do you explain this?"
To everyone's amazement, he leaped from his bed with athletic grace, landing firmly on his feet. The force that would have sent his previously frail body stumbling was absorbed effortlessly by his newly strengthened constitution.
Ermelinde gasped in alarm. "Alexander—"
"I'm perfectly fine, Mother," Alexander said confidently. He looked directly at the priest with unwavering conviction. "My body feels stronger than it has ever been. More vibrant, more healthy. I seriously doubt that cursed food could produce such remarkable results."
Father Hensfried stared in bewilderment. Just moments ago, the young lord had been burning with fever, appearing deathly ill and weak. Now he stood before them radiating vitality and health.
The entire room fell silent as they truly observed Alexander for the first time since his awakening. His previously pale, sickly complexion now held a healthy flush. His eyes sparkled with brightness and intelligence that had never been so pronounced. His entire bearing seemed transformed—confident and strong rather than frail and hesitant.
It was as if he had been completely reborn before their very eyes.
Father Hensfried scrambled for an explanation. "Young lord, what you're experiencing may be an illusion. The evil curse is deceiving you into believing—"
"Spare me that nonsense," Alexander interrupted firmly. "I know my own body. I know exactly what I'm feeling. And I can say with absolute certainty that I am healthier than I have ever been in my life."
"Alexander! Don't speak so rudely to Father Hensfried!" Ermelinde scolded her son.
"It's quite alright, Lady Ermelinde," Father Hensfried said diplomatically. "Young lord, what makes you so certain that this cursed root vegetable is actually a blessing rather than a curse?"
"Simple," Alexander smiled, gesturing toward Fritz. "Master Fritz here, along with all the other servants who consumed the stew, are doing perfectly fine. In fact, they might be feeling better than before they ate it."
Father Hensfried found himself unable to counter this logic. Indeed, aside from the young lord's initial reaction, everyone else who had eaten the stew remained healthy.
But the priest was confident in his theological knowledge and experience. He refused to be outwitted by a mere child. "Perhaps that's true, but how do you explain the sudden fever that struck you after consuming it? Surely that burning sickness was a curse manifesting from that pig fodder!"
Alexander responded with calm assurance: "Fever?" He smiled knowingly. "What I experienced was not a fever at all."
Confusion rippled through the room. Even Reinhard muttered, "Not a fever?" Everyone raised their eyebrows in bewilderment.
Father Hensfried furrowed his brow but maintained his confident smile. "How so? Your body burned like a furnace. If not fever, then what was it?"
Alexander's smile widened. "Indeed, it was hot. But that heat was actually the divine manifestation of the root vegetable's true blessing."
Murmurs of confusion filled the chamber. "How is that possible?" Father Hensfried pressed. "And if it truly is a blessing, why were you the only one to receive it? Why didn't the others who consumed it experience the same divine favor?"
Alexander chuckled inwardly—the priest was using the same logical framework Alexander had employed earlier, just in reverse.
"It's quite simple," Alexander delivered his most audacious claim yet: "The Almighty chose me as His instrument to reveal the truth about the misunderstood root vegetables. For too long, people have called them evil and cursed, when in reality they are one of God's greatest gifts to mankind."
"God's greatest gifts? That's preposterous!" Father Hensfried finally lost his composure before rallying: "In all the Holy Scriptures—from Genesis to Revelation—these cursed roots are never once mentioned as food for the faithful. How can they be from God if the divine word itself omits them entirely?"
Alexander remained silent for a moment. Just as Father Hensfried began to think he'd won the theological argument, the young lord spoke with quiet authority: "It is written: 'God made the earth, and all that is in it.'"
The priest blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected such scriptural knowledge from a six-year-old boy. How does this child know such passages so well? Then he remembered the rumors about the young lord's exceptional intelligence.
Alexander continued steadily: "The root vegetables grow not in Hell or the Underworld, but in the very soil that God Himself created. To call His creation evil and cursed—that is the true blasphemy here."
"But..." Father Hensfried found himself struggling to respond.
"God has given us laws about clean and unclean animals—what we may and may not consume," Alexander pressed on. "Yet nowhere in Scripture does He forbid us from eating what grows from the earth He made. You call the root vegetable 'Devil's Apples' and declare them cursed... but tell me, Father—where exactly in the Scriptures does the Lord prohibit us from eating what springs from His own soil?"
The chamber fell into profound silence. Even the deeply religious Ermelinde found herself without words.
Alexander's voice gained strength: "The Lord once forbade His people from eating swine, and yet pork graces every table from castle to cottage, consumed by noble and peasant alike. And what divine wrath falls upon them? What plagues strike their homes? None—because our God is merciful, and because some laws served their time and purpose."
He gestured toward the window: "And the 'cursed' roots you call pig fodder—they grow in the poorest soil where nothing else will thrive. They flourish through the harshest winters when other crops fail. Can you truly call such miraculous provision a 'devil's apple'?"
Father Hensfried's confidence was visibly shaking. He couldn't believe he was losing a theological debate to a child. "But... but learned scholars have written that these roots are poisonous by nature! They cannot be prepared safely for human consumption—the texts clearly state they're inedible and dangerous!"
"Poison?" Alexander smiled calmly. "If they were truly poisonous, would I be standing here speaking with you right now?"
He gestured toward Fritz: "Master Fritz and I have successfully prepared these potatoes to be not only edible, but delicious. The proof stands before you."
"Impossible!" Father Hensfried protested.
"There's no harm in tasting what we've prepared—then you can judge for yourself whether it's truly inedible—" Alexander began.
"I would never consume such an abomination!" Father Hensfried cut him off sharply.
Alexander sighed with patience beyond his years. "Very well. I understand that words alone won't convince everyone here. Therefore, I'll prove that the root some of you call cursed haven't weakened or cursed me—they've strengthened and blessed me. I can demonstrate my newfound vitality if necessary."
He turned to his uncle with determination: "Uncle Reinhard, let's go to the training yard. I want everyone to witness my transformation firsthand."
The entire room erupted in surprise. Aldric, Ermelinde, and especially Reinhard stared in shock. Amazing—the boy is actually volunteering for combat training.
Ermelinde immediately rushed forward, grasping Alexander protectively: "Absolutely not! You need rest. I won't risk you falling ill again."
Alexander smiled reassuringly at his mother: "I'll be perfectly fine, Mother. You'll see."
Inwardly, he was eager to test his enhanced physical capabilities. More importantly, he needed to prove to everyone—especially his father—that the potatoes had transformed rather than harmed him. If he could convince Aldric of the potatoes' benefits and his own transformation, it would be much easier to gain permission to cultivate them throughout the Barony of Eisenfurt.
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