EP.33 – A Knight Gets Policed? (2)
"Kunta curious about something. Answer Kunta, Arno."
"...Hm. I've no objection to questions, but finish your food before you ask them. And don't shout in the dining hall, Kunta."
"Yeah! Kunta got it!"
Sluuurp!
"...Steak is not something you drink. You are meant to chew it."
Five thick cuts of tenderloin, and Kunta put them away the way other people drank soup.
However tender the meat, eating like that ought to make a man sick.
Or maybe it isn't really a problem for him?
A barbarian of a mystery-race, sure enough. He pulled off the magnificent feat of drinking his steak and broke into a bright grin.
"This tasty. Lots of water come out."
"That isn't water. It's the juices."
"Common tongue very hard."
"...You manage it well enough."
Arno knew that Kunta's clumsy common speech made him look a little slow, when in truth the man was nothing of the sort. If anything, his mind turned faster than anyone's, and he learned quickly—too quickly, if anything.
Some people look at a barbarian and call him a savage warrior. From where I stand, that's simply wrong.
It was a nasty scrap of misinformation, invented to belittle them. If anything, they seemed to have cut away every useless piece of knowledge so they could live in step with the land.
If I had never dealt with Kunta, I might have stayed locked inside that prejudice forever.
He knew better now. Barbarians were brave warriors and born strategists both, and at the same time gentle, diligent people worthy of respect. He had never met one besides Kunta, but the things Kunta said during the days he boarded with the house were enough to show how extraordinary a people they were.
I really hope we become knights together.
A comrade this solid would be hard to come by.
"Hoo! All eaten!"
"...Surely you've had enough."
"Little short. But Kunta endure. Kunta must eat small."
"......I see."
All by himself, Kunta had put away ten enormous steaks. Fifteen pounds of meat, and he called that eating light.
...A solid comrade, yes. Travel with him, though, and he might eat the whole supply train bare.
"Now question okay?"
"Yes. Ask."
"Mmm. Temple. What is?"
"...The temple, you mean?"
The question came out of nowhere, and Arno blinked. Then Kunta went on.
"Yeah. Wisest old man in Kunta's tribe, most famous, he say: go study far away, watch out for 'temple'?"
"......"
...Arno understood the curiosity. It was true that mystery-races had more reason than anyone to be wary of that power.
"But temple people Kunta see, all kind and good. Priest sister in healing room pretty and kind. Kunta want her for wife."
"...Unfortunately, as I understand it, the temple's priests are permitted to marry only after living in the faith into their fifties."
"...This a broken heart? Kunta's heart hurt."
"They also say that the moment you pass fifty, you rejuvenate back into your teens. As if the god were repaying all the hardship."
"Kunta wait and see?"
"...Just give it up."
Hoo....
Arno lost his words for a moment at his friend's absurd performance. Then he went on.
"...The temple is, at its root, a force for good. Of course it is. It heals every sick person in the kingdom free of charge, and it throws itself into charity."
"Then why must watch out?"
"That is..."
Arno looked around. The place held no one but people of Offen, but the temple's eyes were everywhere. He had to be careful. He made certain, thoroughly, that no one was nearby, and only then did he carefully set that name on his tongue—the name of the faction most infamous, within the temple, for being dangerous and vicious.
"The temple contains the Office of the Inquisition. The wise old man you mentioned was probably warning you about them, not about the temple itself."
...Even people of the kingdom went cold in the gut if they made enemies of that place. Arno frowned reflexively even as he spoke.
"Why they dangerous?"
"...Because among the inquisitors of the Office, there are quite a few who loathe mystery-races and insist that every one of them must be wiped out."
"...Kunta suddenly lose appetite."
"......"
It was hardly a line for a man who had already finished, on top of the steaks, an entire cheesecake served for dessert. Even so, Arno understood how he felt. It was, without question, an unpleasant subject.
"Even so, don't worry too much. You are a student who came to the Academy on a formal exchange, and the Office of the Inquisition no longer runs wild without distinction the way it once did. ......Still, caution is warranted. So when you wander the Royal Capital, I strongly recommend you not go alone."
"...More Arno talk, more Kunta confused. Be careful? Or okay to relax...?"
"Just take it to mean that staying clear of the temple, if you can help it, is the wise choice."
It was the best advice he could offer, and Kunta still wore a frustrated look.
"Then if get tangled by accident, what Kunta do?"
"Then..."
"Then?"
"...You would be unlucky, I suppose."
"......"
"Even so, you really aren't likely to get tangled up with them. These days the inquisitors are hardly idle. Unless you were born with the sort of luck that breaks your nose when you fall backward, you'll probably be fine."
"People get hurt just from falling?"
"......Looking at you, I can't understand why barbarians are a minority people. You're sturdy enough to have founded a kingdom ages ago."
"?"
Kunta tilted his head. Arno clicked his tongue.
A peaceful day, for two students.
......And on the other hand, if someone out there was enjoying a peaceful day—
"Brother, have you been well today?"
"...I was, until you showed up."
"Ho ho. Such jokes."
"It wasn't a joke..."
There were, of course, people who got no peace at all.
Lee Han—a man so far past unlucky that falling backward would probably drop him into a sea of fire—let out a groan and sighed.
And then:
"...Have some tea before you go."
"I'll impose for a little while again today."
"......"
...This damned sense of decency.
Why can't I act like trash?
Lee Han hated himself for being unable to treat a kind old man badly.
...The old man—his meeting with Father Raphael—had come truly out of nowhere.
He had been pouring himself into training as usual when a staff-bearing old priest came walking, slowly, right up to the front of his house.
Rough ground for a stroll....
Lee Han had every reason to be baffled. His house sat in a place that could not have been rougher if it tried. Calling it nature inside the city would not have been an exaggeration. The path had never once been maintained and was a complete wreck, and on the way in a man might meet wild beasts and find himself threatened. Come night, the dark grew so thick that even a torch barely showed the way ahead. All things considered, it was the sort of place people were better off not visiting.
Well. That was why he had bought it cheap.
And so he had been nothing but bewildered the first time an old man who looked as if even walking pained him found his way to the house. The clothes alone said clergy, and he looked like nothing more than a harmless old man with no martial power at all.
So, at first—
"Excuse me. Did you take a wrong turn?"
He had meant, in his own way, to kindly send the clergyman back. If the man had lost his way, Lee Han would guide him onto the road again—or, if need be, carry him wherever he wanted to go.
But contrary to expectation—
"Ho ho. No. I believe I've come to exactly the right place."
The old man was a great figure.
"My name is Raphael. I am one servant whose life was saved by the Light of Radiance."
...He learned it later through the guild, but the old priest named Raphael was one of only five cardinals in the entire Light of Radiance. He had resigned the office, and yet he remained an old man of tremendous influence.
Which made sense.
Cardinal Raphael is one hundred and sixteen this year, older than the Pope-King of the present age. He does not rejuvenate himself through Holy Law, and he follows only the word of the Light of Radiance. For that devout, self-sacrificing bearing he even rose to candidacy as a saint, but he resigned that as well, saying it was more than he deserved. Perhaps because of this exemplary conduct, an enormous number of the temple's priests follow him. And yet—shockingly—he now serves as the chief who directly oversees the Office of the Inquisition, and even within the temple opinions differ as to why he volunteered for such a role. Well, in any case, he is clearly an extraordinary man, and I dare not predict how the temple would react if he were harmed. Please make a wise choice...
...That was part of the letter he had received from Simon, chairman of the kingdom's Guild Association.
And for Lee Han, it was a fact to lose his mind over. He could not understand, at all, why a man that important had walked this rough road alone, or why he had come specifically to see him.
So at first he was wary, unsure what to do. But Raphael—
"Today I only wanted to see your face. I'll come again next time."
"......"
...On the first day, he really did nothing but look at his face and leave.
After that, though, Raphael kept coming. On days of hard wind. On days when the heat raged. On days when the rain fell.
So Lee Han—
"...Assistant. Bring a shovel."
"Yes?"
"Let's fix the ground."
"...Who?"
"Us."
"......"
First he repaired the disastrous, unmaintained path. One shovel, one useless assistant, and in half a day flat he turned a road that would have needed twenty laborers into a proper path.
After that—
"Ho ho. The way here was truly pleasant."
"...I'm going to lose my mind."
Lee Han had no enemy quite like this. A man who showed hostility would have been easier. Raphael displayed not a speck of ill will—he simply came, offered a greeting, and left—and Lee Han had no grounds on which to say a word about it.
Nor was he some strange old man who only stole a look and went...
"Coming empty-handed seemed rude, so I brought a humble gift. Do you happen to drink milk...?"
He brought goat's milk he had drawn himself, and butter.
It was, without question, the conduct of a priest with sense. And so, little by little—
"...If you aren't coming here just to torment me, at least tell me what you want."
"Ho ho. I only wished to meet you face to face, Brother. The bearing of the hero who saved the Royal Capital."
"......"
"Seeing you in person exceeds my expectations. A spirit surpassing the heroes I met in my youth—greater than the rumors. ...Would you not care to follow the Light of Radiance?"
"......For fuck's sake."
...From some day onward, the recruiting started as well.
Lee Han admitted it.
"A natural enemy. A natural enemy..."
It really felt as if he had met the greatest natural enemy of his life. The man cast only a gentle gaze, with no hostility in it, and somehow thought well of him. And the decency never to arrive empty-handed...!
Of all the old men Lee Han had seen in the kingdom, this one was the most like a normal adult, which made him impossibly difficult to deal with.
......But the questions remained. Starting with how a man like that did work as extreme as a heresy inquisition, and ending with why he came to see Lee Han and asked nothing at all.
"According to the dark one, I've been marked by the temple as a dangerous man..."
If the regressor's word was true, he had stirred things up so badly that even the temple had flagged him as a person to watch.
The reason?
He still didn't really know. He couldn't say he had no guesses, but nothing clear would come to mind.
"Hoo. This is going to drive me insane..."
And so his head ached. He wished the man would just come out and say something, but it kept feeling as if he were only taking his measure.
And so it was, in the present.
Slurp.
"Mm. It tastes good. What do you call this tea?"
"...Just herbs from the mountain, dried."
"Ho ho. So it means drinking the grace of nature. I leave having received a precious hospitality."
"......You can find the stuff anywhere."
"How many hands must have gone into picking these herbs, drying them, and brewing them into tea, Brother."
"......"
"Humility and diligence—nothing less than the qualities of a devout believer!!"
"...Why does everything lead back to that?"
......He was reaching a state of enlightenment in which even this fervent recruiting had become something he simply accepted.
Look at him. Well past a hundred, and still spry.
He'll live another thirty years easy.
Slurp.
Lee Han drank his tea.
"It was a fine meeting again today, Brother."
"Don't come tomorrow. Please."
"Ho ho. We are only just growing closer. How could I do such a thing? I shall see you again next time."
"...Mm."
The old priest's steps, as he turned to go, looked unsteady. The staff looked frail, and his legs looked frailer than the staff.
"Assistant."
"Yes?"
"Carry him. Then hire a decent carriage and see him home."
"M-me?"
"You want me to do it?"
"...No. I should. Damn it..."
"Too many words, Assistant."
Damian grumbled his way over to Raphael, and Raphael moved to refuse.
"I don't want to hold a funeral in this midsummer heat, and I don't want some pointless guilt on my hands. So take the kindness quietly. You don't have a choice."
"A compulsory kindness, is it?"
"No. A necessary one."
"Haa..."
"...Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Unlike your face, Brother, you are a gentle man."
"......What's wrong with my face."
"It only makes me want to bring you to the temple all the more."
"Hey. An answer."
"I will accept the kindness. Thank you. May the blessing of the Light be with you."
"...What is this? Am I talking to a tree?"
With that, Raphael said only what he meant to say and let Damian take him up, and Damian walked carefully with the old man on his back.
The old priest's back grew distant. Lee Han watched it and scratched the back of his head.
"...Kindness, huh."
Mm....
Is it because he reminds me of our old man?
The grandfather who had raised him, in his previous life, after his parents abandoned him. The man had died not long after, but because of him Lee Han had been able to live diligently through his teens without going crooked.
That didn't mean Raphael and his grandfather were alike. Temperament, speech, even their faces—all different.
Still.
He's a good man....
Character. Not stubborn; meeting the world with flexibility; living upright. That character, at least, he thought they truly shared. They had not known each other long, but his instincts told him this much: the man called Raphael had not come near in order to make a fool of him.
If he were playing me, I'd have sent him to heaven already.
Tsk....
Hard. This was hard.
He was not rotten enough to be sharp with a man whose roots were not bad.
The sky was dimming a little. He watched the settling shadows and the two figures growing distant, and the moment he confirmed that even those shadows had vanished completely from his sight—
"—So. What's the occasion, coming in this close today? You sly bastard."
......Lee Han spoke without even turning around.
There was no one around.
And yet.
"You don't have to come out. But next time you do, bet your life on it. I'm one step short of being offended."
A soft rush of air.
In an instant, as if for a curtain call, someone revealed himself. A veil across space—a sight mysterious enough to make a man doubt his eyes—and out of it, he walked.
"...Forgive the discourtesy. It seems I have done something akin to testing a knight. I was merely escorting the cardinal."
"That's why I let you live. Otherwise I'd have killed you already."
"I see. So you knew from the start."
The man gave a silent nod, his face almost entirely without expression, and Lee Han turned to face him.
And the look of him...
He really looks like a man who'd be good at heresy inquisitions.
A priest stood there with a scripture in one hand and a bell in the other. Deep shadow lay around his eyes, and gray shot through his hair; he wore a drab, worn priest's robe, and the whole of him was striking for how dull it was. His eyes were deader than a fish on ice and made him look older than his years, and the air about him was darker still than the old robe. There was something in the sight of him that made a person shrink.
But to Lee Han—
"So. You leaving, or not?"
"......"
He was nothing more than a bastard who made you wonder whether to crack his skull.