Twist of Hate
“Priest. Do you doubt my power?”
“W-what?!”
Startled, Vailin nearly slipped and tumbled over the edge of the ledge.
“I-I don’t doubt you. I was only marveling at the archangel’s vast wisdom….”
“Yes, I suppose you might be uneasy. After all, you spent years lurking in the shadows, only to be granted the glory of acting in the sunlight.”
The pope smiled, his mouth stretching wide at both corners.
“I—I shall purify him! I shall cleanse away the impurities that have gnawed at this fool’s dim mind!”
As if waiting for that moment, Lucy Perhela sprang up and clamped both hands over Vailin’s forehead. Silver power flooded her face, pouring into all her orifices.
“Ah… aahh.”
Vailin quickly lost consciousness and collapsed.
“Good. Flaws can be purified. Well done, Guide of Twilight.”
At the pope’s praise, Lucy let out a relieved breath.
“You compared the humans and the Four Heavenly Angels to fishing when you spoke of them. It was a fine analogy. You did scatter too much bait before Joren Tamer, though… Still, you managed to hook the bastard properly by the throat. For now, that is enough. I’d say well done. All that remains is to dispose of him when he arrives here.”
“I am honored.”
Seeing the pope’s mood darken, Valepin stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
“If I may ask a question of the archangel.”
“Ask, Spear of the North Sea.”
“Will Joren Tamer truly bring only the four you mentioned? I fear he may drag a crowd of hangers-on with him.”
As he spoke, Valepin’s lips twisted while he looked over the broad expanse of the cave.
“That would make things even better. It would be like stepping into the fire of their own accord. The more kindling, the brighter it burns.”
The pope dismissed the matter as though it were nothing.
“If the bastard follows my proposal, I will keep my promise as well. Ah, those bugs won’t understand what I mean, so explain it to them.”
“As you command.”
Valepin explained the pope’s “promise” to Shrakhim, Curtis, and Axel, who were still too bewildered to follow.
‘If only those five appear, the children will be safely returned to the village. I promise. Consider it a small tribute to your courage.’
Shrakhim felt suffocated.
‘It’s reckless. I don’t know how formidable those paladins and mages are, but if you exclude Peach, they’re basically only four, aren’t they? And all these elves gathered here are no ordinary lot. From what they’ve said, it’s obvious they’ve laid a trap. And even if that weren’t the case, what guarantee is there that he’d keep the promise in the first place?’
Noticing the look on his face, the pope smiled faintly.
“Worried I won’t keep my promise?”
He lifted his right hand slightly, plucking the stalactites that had been driven into Shrakhim’s body free.
“A promise must be kept. Even if it is made to bugs.”
“I-is that really true?”
Clutching his numbed shoulder, Shrakhim asked.
“Yes, you can rest easy. That is, of course, only if Joren Tamer follows my proposal. If he breaks his promise, then I have no need to keep mine. In fact, I suspect he’ll break it anyway.”
“What? Border Count Joren would never do such a thing! He isn’t the sort to be so shameless as you lot!”
“Do you truly believe that?”
The pope’s black pupils widened, filling with white.
“Joren Tamer is in the capital right now. What do you think he’s planning? There are three possibilities. The second most likely is that he fled under the pretense of reporting the emergency, and will only drag this out until he never returns.”
“N-no, that’s impossible! He would never do that.”
“It seems you truly do follow Joren Tamer with all your heart. But does Joren Tamer care about you in the same way? On the contrary, he probably hates you.”
“What?”
“If you think about it, the reason Tamer has been suffering under charges of treason is all because of you, isn’t it?”
By deftly using the present progressive, the pope shook Shrakhim’s resolve.
“He would surely think so. If not for you, he wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Shrakhim’s eyes wavered.
“If you die here, do you really think Tamer will care? He’ll probably be glad. He seems to care far more about that woman Peach than he does about a fool like you. He even brought a mere maid all the way to the capital and hid her there. She must have been a precious little toy indeed.”
At Peach’s name, the elves tilted their heads slightly.
“Which means you’re worth less than a toy. Why would anyone risk their life to save someone like you?”
“That’s not true. He saved me when I was at death’s door!”
“He did it because too many eyes were watching. The bastard has always been lauded as a benevolent commander, so he had no choice but to mind how others saw him. And after he began posing as Hariad’s oracle, he had to play the saint as well. In other words, saving you was nothing more than hypocrisy meant to earn public favor.”
“B-but Border Count Joren even saved my hometown— Kihara Territory—”
“He did that only to avoid conflict, not because he pitied your tiny little hometown. It was all a matter of calculation. I assume even your worthless brain can follow that much. If you want to object, go ahead.”
Shrakhim could only tremble in silence.
“Fake knight Shrakhim. Why did you come all the way here? To rescue the captured children and soldiers? Of course that was part of it. I can tell from how proud you looked, as though you’d become a hero. Unfortunately, that little act of heroism was nothing more than a childish show. What do you think, you purifiers?”
“Indeed it is so.”
The elves giggled happily at the pope’s permission.
The despair Shrakhim had forced himself to suppress was swelling once more in the depths of his heart.
The pope casually lifted his right index finger, silencing the laughter of the crowd.
“But there is another desire you truly hold—even if you yourself don’t realize it. Do you know what it is? It is vanity. You brought this disaster on yourself because of your foolish greed to earn merit for Joren Tamer’s sake. You wanted forgiveness for what you’d done. Perhaps you also wanted praise, like a child.”
Having his inner thoughts exposed, Shrakhim snapped his thick lips shut like an iron gate.
“You half-baked knight. Your reckless stupidity was not entirely pointless. In a sense, it was for Joren Tamer’s benefit as well.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“If you crawl in here like a moth to the flame and die, it will be a great boon to Joren Tamer. He may want to kill you, but he’s too hypocritical to do it openly, so wouldn’t it be convenient if he didn’t have to dirty his own hands? And that’s not all. He won’t have to worry about you babbling nonsense in court either. From his perspective, isn’t that practically a gift from heaven?”
Struck by the decisive blow the pope had landed, Shrakhim muttered in a daze.
“No… that can’t be. Border Count Joren said he trusted me….”
His unwavering faith in the Border Count was already melting away under the lava of unease that had surged up to meet it.
“Very well. Let’s say Joren Tamer doesn’t flee, and he comes here. Then he’ll likely bring a great many reinforcements from the capital. That is the third possibility. Do you understand now? Either way, he ends up breaking his promise to me.”
The elves listening all desperately wanted to interrupt.
Professor— no, Pope. You forgot the first possibility.
“Hey, you little elf brat. You said there were three possible plans, but you forgot the first one. Idiot.”
Instead, it was Axel, bound to a stone pillar, who asked it for them.
At being called a brat, the pope’s smile vanished.
“Th-that worm dares speak rudely to the archangel!”
“Shut that bastard up! No, cut out his tongue!”
The elves erupted in outrage and panic, but the pope raised a fist, and the commotion died at once.
In the meantime, Shrakhim had gathered himself and was goading the pope again.
“Indeed, that would seem to be the case, so it would. You don’t even know how to count your own orders properly, do you? With ears that large and a body that small, I suppose it’s understandable. If you lined yourself up with the taller elves, you’d probably lose track of which number you were— y-yaaah!”
Unfortunately, his talent for taunting was cut off in mid-performance.
With nothing more than a slight flick of his right hand, the pope sent Shrakhim flying to the far end of the cave.
—CRUNCH.
Having shot through several stone pillars, Shrakhim’s body slammed into Axel and crushed him beneath it.
“A-are you all right?!”
Terrified, Curtis tried to scramble to help the fallen men, but it was useless. The vines binding him only tightened further.
“Kh—kheuk!”
The vines coiling around his body soon wrapped around his neck and began to constrict.
“Is that unfair?”
As the pope had said, Curtis hadn’t even joined the taunting, yet he was the one suffering for it.
“Ghk. You bastards… I’ll kill… kgh!”
Even while choking, even while being glared at with murderous hatred, the pope only smiled serenely.
“Does it hurt? Then blame Joren Tamer for sending you here. All the pain you’re enduring is because of him.”
Curtis bent forward and raised his knees. Even as the vines tightened around his throat, that was the only way he could reach the short sword hidden in his boot.
“Kek… keh-heh. Shut up with that bullshit! How is any of this Border Count Joren’s fault? This whole thing happened because you maniacs cooked up some insane scheme!”
As he managed to slice through the vines strangling his neck, the elves tensed. They feared they would be blamed for failing to search him thoroughly.
But the pope did not rebuke his followers. Instead, he curled his lips into a slight smile.
“Oh? Then perhaps you resent your reckless companions. If those bastards—especially that Shrakhim fool—hadn’t been spouting nonsense, you wouldn’t have had to endure punishment for nothing.”
At that, Curtis glanced sidelong at Shrakhim. Even he had to admit that Shrakhim had brought trouble upon himself by provoking the others pointlessly.
“It seems you all have some bad blood with that pig-man. How about this? If you kill him, I’ll let you go alive.”
“What?!”
Curtis flinched, but quickly gathered himself and shouted back.
“You think I’d fall for such an obvious trick? I’ve already been taken in by your dirty lies— by Ringring’s dirty lies. I won’t be fooled twice!”
“Taken in? Whatever do you mean?” Lucy Perhela asked with a sweet smile.
“You vile pointy-eared witch! Don’t play dumb! You were the one who lured the children and kidnapped them—”
“On the contrary, you’re the one who doesn’t know what happened. I lured the children? Those children over there were the ones who lured me first, asking me to play with them instead of their pathetic parents again today. I merely granted their wish. We picked strawberries, dug up strange mushrooms… and I even took them on a delightful cave adventure. Right here, in fact. It was quite convenient having them gather the materials needed to make hallucinogens for me. Hohohoho.”
Watching her brazenly chatter on, Curtis lost all words.
“I had no choice but to treat your side harshly because of the circumstances, but I never harmed the children. They all fell asleep blissfully happy. They won’t be happy when they wake up, of course. Or perhaps they’ll even forget what happiness feels like.”
“You… you crazy bitch.”
Shaking with fury, Curtis met the pope’s gaze. The pope responded with a benevolent smile.
“Yes, elves never lie. So you can rest easy and use that dagger to cut Shrakhim’s throat. It doesn’t seem like you’d lose anything by doing so. No, wasn’t that what you wanted all along? You wanted to kill him, didn’t you? More than once.”
“H-how did you know…? But that was in the past. Shrakhim— no, Sir Shrakhim saved us.”
Curtis startled, but barely managed to answer.
“Saved your lives? Ridiculous. You’re all destined to die here anyway. What good is it if your remaining days are stretched by a hair’s breadth?”
Seeing Curtis’s face turn the color of despairing ash, the pope laughed heartily.
“Wouldn’t it be better to accept my proposal, then? You send Shrakhim to Hariad’s side, and I’ll let you out of here. I think that’s a fair trade.”
While Curtis hesitated, Shrakhim began to stir.
“Ugh….”
Watching Shrakhim’s mangled body twitch, Curtis shook his head.
“…I can’t do something like that just to save myself alone. Whatever the past may be, I can’t betray the man who saved my life now.”
“A fine spirit. So you won’t save only yourself?”
The pope did not sound disappointed by the answer. In fact, he even repeated Curtis’s words with a pleased smile.
“Then how about this? If you kill Shrakhim, I’ll let not only you but your companions leave as well.”
“What?”
“You’d better do it quickly. He’s waking up.”
Lifting the head he had been shaking, Curtis thought it over—and then stepped forward.
He raised the dagger he had been holding low.
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