Chapter 28
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Sin - 1
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Milelle felt more like a fortress than a city. As the self-proclaimed holy site of the Ennesic Order, the guards' weaponry was a cut above the rest, and compared to the slackers posted at Rick's house, these soldiers had real discipline. The entry inspection was strict enough that without the forged ID the professor had prepared in advance, we probably wouldn't have gotten in.
That said, the documents he provided listed me as Rachel's father, which required some serious acting chops. And by acting chops, I mean holding back the urge to vomit every time she acted all cutesy like a doting daughter.
As I silently endured her antics, Rachel started giving me these weird looks after we passed inspection. Her stare got so uncomfortable that I finally couldn't take it anymore and threw out a line.
"What is it? If you've got something to say, just spit it out."
"No, nothing. Just surprised, that's all. I half-expected you'd kill the coachman and disguise yourself as him again."
"Will was dying at the time, and like I said, I got his consent."
"Fair enough. Saving their dying master's life isn't a bad deal for someone on their last legs. Sorry for jumping to conclusions."
"Quit wasting time and let's find that Vanessa woman already."
"Already on it, full steam ahead. The path's just a bit rough."
Rachel led the way like she'd lived in the city for decades. I sighed and followed behind her.
A stench wafted from every corner. On the surface, it was all shiny hypocrisy, but peel back that veil even a little, and the ugliness came spilling out.
Priests with swollen bellies blotting out the sky from their gleaming white Order buildings, whispering dark secrets with their black tongues. Women flashing their skirts at those same priests. Some might call this a holy city, but to me, it felt no different from a whorehouse.
And Rachel was leading me straight into the deepest, darkest pits where that ugliness shone brightest. The deeper we went, the more the sane gave way to the depraved, those who at least hid their lust behind pretense now openly baring themselves and tempting one another. Saints. Whores. Asceticism. Heat. Like the saying that extremes meet, the underbelly of this holy city inevitably sprouted a throbbing mass of desire.
But strangely, the more corruption soaked the air around us, the easier it felt to breathe. Maybe because I'd seen so much deceit and lies it made my skin crawl. Just as my lungs were filling comfortably with clean filth, Rachel stopped in her tracks.
"Almost there."
"You said it was a former priest's place."
"Exactly why it's the perfect spot to hide. Right?"
"...Yeah."
I scanned the surroundings. No trace of any god here, even if you scrubbed your eyes raw—rags, old folks, and the dregs of society packed in tight. Like she said, if Vanessa had soured on the Order and gone into hiding, this seemed like the ideal spot.
"So. How do we find her?"
"Well, obviously, we check her house first."
"You remember where it is?"
"Roughly, yeah. You'll know it when you see it too. A place like this, running an orphanage."
"Doesn't sound off. Orphans must be overflowing here."
"You're chillingly level-headed, you know that?"
Rachel arched an eyebrow dubiously and pressed on into the even deeper, darker heart of the city. I ignored the whores throwing me glances and kept my eyes fixed on her back as I followed.
"Still far? We've walked a good bit."
"No, we're here. See it up ahead?"
I looked up at her words. Among all the shacks we'd passed, one larger building stood out as slightly less decrepit. Rachel slowed her pace and spoke.
"If I'm right, she's inside. She wouldn't leave the kids for long."
"I hate wild goose chases. Any way to confirm?"
"Easy. Just take one more step from here and..."
Whish!
The moment Rachel stepped forward, an arrow whistled through the air from somewhere. I grabbed her nape and yanked her back; the arrow thudded into the spot where her head had been a second ago.
"...an arrow...comes flying...at you...urk..."
She dangled limply from my grip, choking and coughing from the sudden pull. When I let go, she hit the ground on her ass, then sprang up with both hands raised.
"Guess she's home after all. Time to ease up on the caution, huh?"
"Looks like."
I nodded and raised my hands alongside her. But then came the clack of crutches, followed by a woman's voice scraping out like rusty iron from decades of disuse.
"...No need to bother with that."
Turning, I saw a woman with crutches under both armpits approaching, crossbow in hand. She eyed Rachel and me, then raised the loaded crossbow toward the sky.
"Hands up or not, ripping me apart would be child's play for you anyway."
She had sharp eyes, I thought, trying to meet her gaze—but I couldn't quite look her in the eyes. Or rather, both of them fully.
Where her left eye should have been was a grotesque crayon scribble of an eyeball, colors and shape all mangled like a kid's finger painting. Her right eye was mostly intact, but the left's overwhelming presence made even that one feel off somehow.
And her body was far from whole beyond that. No legs, chunks of flesh missing from her arms like they'd been gnawed by bugs, most fingers gone in a way that made it miraculous she'd even cocked the crossbow. Hard to believe she'd once served a god—her body looked utterly forsaken by one.
Despite being mangled head to toe, she greeted us indifferently, as if her wretched state was beside the point.
"Long time no see, detective. Figured you'd been squashed somewhere for the past year. Finally decided to earn your pay?"
"Sorry to disappoint, Vanessa. But as you know, killing the archbishop ain't easy. Needed some prep time."
Rachel winked brazenly at me. Vanessa gave me a once-over, then nodded in approval.
"Well... you did bring him properly."
"You know me?"
"Not everyone's blind, you know."
Vanessa adjusted her crutches and turned.
"Come inside first. We'll talk there."
The shack looked ramshackle from outside, but inside it was even worse. Only three chairs were intact, and one crumbled under Rachel the moment she sat, forcing her into another undignified sprawl on the floor. She ended up plopping down there naturally, scratching her head awkwardly.
"Huh... where are the kids? Where'd they go?"
"Basement. Gotta keep 'em out of sight."
"What happens if they're seen?"
"Girl or boy, doesn't matter—they get hauled off to the brothels fair and square. 'Sold' is more accurate, but I haven't seen a single coin from it yet. Mind if I smoke?"
"Your house, your rules."
At my words, she picked up her pipe and lit it with a flick of her fingers. A mage who avoids flashy spells but shoots a crossbow. I observed her every move and asked.
"Trained?"
"Eh... spent a few years on border dispatch."
"That's when you got hurt?"
"Nah. I'm a pretty skilled mage, you see."
"Then what happened to your eye and legs?"
"Because I'm a really skilled healer."
Her eyes gleamed a dazzling blue as she said it flatly. Gods have a cruel habit of making what you lose shine all the brighter.
"Started small—giving a bit of my flesh to heal soldiers' bruises. But one piece led to two, and soon I went numb to it all. Snapped to one day, and poof: no legs, one eye left."
Her tone was strikingly flat, like recounting someone else's tale without a hint of pity. Vanessa droned on emotionlessly, then suddenly fixed her remaining eye on me.
"But with one eye, I started noticing the little things people overlook. Like that one country boy in the flashy hero parade who barely stood out."
"...Save that story for later. We've got bigger fish."
"Right. You're here about Bobby, then."
Pale smoke curled from her lips. Her hazy gaze seemed to drift into the past.
"Not much to tell, though. Like I told the detective lady, he entered the ascension rite a year ago. By then, I'd soured on Order life and bailed here, so I don't know his whereabouts now."
"You really believe he went through with the rite?"
"Yeah. With over a hundred young girls."
"Good lord."
Rachel finally managed a whisper. I nodded, figuring it sounded just like Bobby's brand of evil.
"Any guess where he might be?"
"No clue. Only his inner circle would know, and as you can see, I wasn't exactly climbing those ranks looking like this."
"Inner circle."
I fiddled absently with my sword hilt. The cold, smooth feel was more reassuring than a warm blanket.
"Like Saint Sera, say."
"Well... she might."
"Any way to reach her?"
"Sure. Attend services diligently. Our Saint Sera—ordinary village girl turned genius mage by Ennesic Goddess's oracle to slay the Demon King—shows up to every mass since Bobby became archbishop, spreading his teachings."
It was more sneer than joke. She took one last deep drag from her pipe and exhaled.
"Or for something more direct, donate for confession. Basically prostitution, to be precise."
"Meaning?"
"Exactly that. In the current Ennesic Order, the only way to cleanse sin is contact with the priests' sacred flesh."
"Sex in a nutshell."
Rachel summed it up bluntly. I pondered briefly, then turned to her.
"How much cash we got?"
"...How much you need?"
Instead of answering, I looked to Vanessa. She flashed a number with her fingers. Rachel gaped in shock.
"Holy crap. That much?"
"You'd be surprised how many want to bed the saint. Order can't pair her with just anyone, so money sets the bar."
"Even I don't have that kind of cash, Luca."
"No sweat. Just spill that much blood instead."
"...Please not baron-level this time."
"But you know, even if you touch the saint, she might not spill Bobby's location easily. Could end up killing folks for nothing."
"She'll have no choice with me."
Vanessa gave me a knowing look. I spoke up before she pierced my secrets.
"So when's the next service?"
"Today's over. Crash here tonight, head out early tomorrow. Scout the surroundings too. Oh, and obviously, no swords allowed inside."
"Won't need it anyway."
Rachel whistled teasingly at my words.
"Knew it. So, no face-hiding this time? Won't it suck if they spot you first?"
"Of course I'll hide. Same method as last time."
"Playing innocent, huh? Whose face you peeling off this round?"
I slowly turned to Rachel. As her expression hardened, I dropped it casually.
"Yours."