Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Saf's Excuse
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Yol's figure, sitting in the darkness, resembled a shadow.
What Saf had glimpsed was a smiling face, but it felt as though the expression had swiftly changed the moment the candlelight revealed it. She couldn't even guess what it had been before the smile.
Saf took a deep breath and let it out before speaking.
"Were you waiting for me?"
"Yes. The annex is especially dark during a storm like this."
"Thank you for your concern. I'm fine."
Saf deliberately stood by the door, hoping he would leave. But he showed no sign of rising, instead reaching for the small table in front of him.
A tray covered with a wooden lid sat on the table.
"Please join me. I didn't want to brave the sandstorm again just to return the tray and dishes, so I brought two portions to eat here together. I'll clear them right after."
"I could take the dishes back myself."
"No, I couldn't impose that on a guest, and as I mentioned, that area is off-limits to women."
Saf wondered if monasteries were really that strict. A nunnery might be different, but...
'Each monastery has its own rules... But then, is eating together like this allowed?'
Saf sat on the chair beside the bed.
Puol smiled softly and opened the sand-dusted lid of the tray. There were thickly sliced vegetables and bread, along with a bowl of oil. White cheese and milk were prepared as well.
He broke a piece of hard bread with a loud crack and offered half to Saf.
"Please eat. I baked this bread myself. The monks here have no skill at it."
He pushed the white bowl of oil toward her.
"This is cheese and olive oil from Rom. It must seem meager if you're from Rom, but it's my best effort."
"No, after convent life, this is a splendid meal."
"For someone who says that, you don't look pleased."
"That's just how my face is. I don't show expressions."
Puol laughed as he spoke.
"Don't misunderstand. My old profession involved observing people, so I habitually check faces first. In your case, Sister, your facial muscles don't move at all, which surprised me."
"Sorry."
"Haha, no need to apologize. Ah, eat this. It's goat's milk, fresh from an hour ago."
"Thank you. I'll say grace first."
Saf clasped her hands.
"Please do."
Saf closed her eyes and recited the prayer.
"We praise your name today as well, O Lord.
May your will shine brightly upon this land. We give thanks for the sustenance to live this day, forgive the sins we commit today, and grant us strength not to fall into temptation by evil. All glory and power be to your name. In your name we pray."
When Saf opened her eyes again, Puol was staring fixedly at her.
Startled, she flinched, and he belatedly smiled.
"That's the Rom Priesthood prayer."
"Then Saint Santarimo Monastery is...?"
"Under the Raphael Priesthood. But don't worry about it. There are over a hundred priesthoods by name alone in the world; we can't divide territories to enact God's will. Eat, please eat."
Puol urged her on.
Having bowed her head in prayer, droplets from her wet hair trickled down her forehead and cheeks. Saf rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand, then took a bite of bread without lifting her head. She hoped it looked like a noblewoman hiding her mouth or embarrassed by the water.
Though their eyes didn't meet, she felt his intense gaze.
'He's observing me. Did I make a mistake?'
Gathering courage, Saf asked,
"Is it all right to eat in the same room with a woman like this? I'm worried you're breaking rules because of me."
Puol spoke as Saf stuffed into one bite what would have taken her five.
"If you're concerned, put it aside. We don't apply rules that strictly to Kaitlik priests, unlike ordinary women. The main building has many young men, so even a woman's scent passing through the door stirs impure thoughts—that's why we bar entry. For your safety, Sister. Ah, of course, I've long passed such temptations and follow only God's will now, so I'm fine. Rest assured."
Puol waved his hand as if regretting the unnecessary words and continued.
"Words lead to more words, misunderstandings to more, so I should hold my tongue, but my nature gets the better of me and I end up chattering. Speaking of which, I used to be a witch hunter."
"Witch... hunter? An inquisitor?"
"Strictly speaking, just an assistant to an assistant inquisitor. I handled trivial matters, not even recorded anywhere. Experience matters in this line, but without it, I never rose to inquisitor. Do you know what inquisitors do?"
Puol chuckled dryly as he asked.
"Interrogations, right? Distinguishing unbelievers who don't follow God's word or pagans who worship other gods..."
"Not other gods, but believers in the 'demon.' Uninformed folk might think there are other gods besides ours."
"Sorry. That's how I was taught..."
"That's the area where Raphael and Rom Priesthoods clash. I won't dig deeper."
Puol thumped his chest with his fist and continued.
"My job was finding sinners hidden among ordinary people and dragging them before the inquisitor. Not to boast, but all the sinners I found were convicted."
"Yes, I see."
"I hear the Rom Priesthood doesn't do much of that. Is it true?"
"Such things?"
"Witch trials."
"I wouldn't know. I've only lived in the convent."
"What does your convent contribute to the Rom Priesthood? Ah, try this olive oil. A secret: it's pressed from olives grown by the famous Cardinal Lorenzo himself."
"It smells wonderful."
"Have you ever heard of witches?"
"Witches?"
"Since you lived in a convent, let me tell you: we once got a report of a wicked, lustful female demon disguised as a nun in a convent. I had to raid it with the inquisitor."
Puol shook his head as if he hated recalling it.
"Truly vile work. To find demonic marks, we stripped innocent, virtuous nuns and examined their bodies. It was grueling. I'd rather that case had been false, and my hands cut off, eyes gouged for groping those nuns. But unfortunately, three were confirmed witches."
"Three? Which convent?"
"Sorry, that's secret. How's the goat's milk?"
"...Delicious."
"Try it with the bread. They pair well. So, Sister Sof, why did you enter the convent? A woman's story for joining is bound to be more tragic than a man's for a monastery."
"No special reason. Nowhere else to live..."
"Oh? Why? Parents gone?"
Saf fell silent. It was hard to judge what to reveal and what to hide.
Puol spoke too quickly, giving no time to think. He often asked questions without waiting for answers, jumping to the next.
Puol gave an awkward smile.
"Ah, sorry. I pried too deep. Tried to be indirect, but I'm not used to talking with women. How many years in the convent?"
"You don't have to answer if you don't want. I can ask Brother Jayden."
"Started so young I can't count easily. From infancy, so about eighteen years."
"Prime age for beauty to bloom. Let me ask again: what did you do there?"
"Helped in the orphanage with the children, prepared services. Grew vegetables too. My charge was carrots and potatoes..."
"Then the Athena Convent's orphanage."
"Yes."
Saf flinched inwardly for a moment.
'Did I mention Athena Convent?'
Puol pressed on without pause.
"The abbess there... Juliena?"
"...Julia."
"Ah, right! I remember now. Athena Convent is close to Bishop David of Saint Vesta Cathedral, I hear. So good ties with Rom Priesthood too?"
"I wouldn't know, but I think so."
"What about witches?"
"Pardon?"
"Witches."
"Why witches?"
"Heard a rumor a witch appeared at Athena Convent and was dealt with. Rom Priesthood doesn't do witch trials, so curious how they handled it. Just professional curiosity."
"No witch or heresy trial events while I was there."
"None?"
"Never heard of any."
"Oh, I must have misheard. Rom Priesthood doesn't officially recognize witches or demons, right?"
Puol chuckled knowingly.
Saf couldn't eat more bread. She just stared blankly at the monk laughing in the flickering candlelight.
'I've seen this man before. And he remembers me. This whole conversation is fake. It's to lure a confession.'
Saf swallowed dryly. Bread crumbs stuck in her throat, threatening a cough, but she clamped her mouth shut, fearing it would betray her.
"That doesn't mean I'm criticizing Rom Priesthood. The problem is Rotikan's duplicity, teaching demons are formless things in people's hearts, without substance. They even deny witch hunters like us at times. Even as we risk our lives fighting right now!"
Puol asked, slightly excited.
"By the way, Sister Sof, do you know how witches are tried?"
"Not really."
"Even nuns should know. Don't people say witches are the opposite of nuns? Never heard that?"
"Never learned it."
"Inquisition and witch trials are similar but different. Many confuse them; they're distinct realms. Unbelievers can be redeemed, but witches? No mercy! Any suspicion must be proven, and once proven, acted upon."
Puol lowered his voice like revealing a secret recipe.
"For suspected witches, interrogation and torture are mere formalities. No fixed form; just reach the conclusion: confirmed witch! Then execution!"
"So... even innocents could be executed?"
"Exactly. Know why we use this method?"
Puol shook his head pityingly at Saf.
Saf shook hers.
Puol emphasized forcefully.
"To eliminate one true demon, we kill nine innocents if needed. Letting one go to spare ninety-nine risks nine hundred ninety-nine good Kaitlik faithful falling to evil. Wrongly executed will receive God's mercy later. Don't you agree, Sister?"
"I... don't know."
"Don't know? You disagree?"
"Not disagree, just... people dying scares me..."
"Oh dear. I told cruel tales to a young sister. Let's change topics. Eat up. Isn't the olive oil amazing? Speaking of Rom Priesthood, you know Father Daniel?"
"...Yes, I do."
"What kind of man is he?"
"A good man."
"Met him?"
"Yes."
"What relation?"
"Nothing specific..."
"No real relation?"
"We met often. Not nothing. Close with the abbess, visited the convent..."
"Then why were you at Father Daniel's house during that fire?"
"Pardon?"
"Why appear at Saint Vesta Cathedral same day?"
"What do you mean...?"
"Met a demon in the desert?"
"...Demon?"
Puol's voice remained soft. But his smile stiffened, almost expressionless.
"Your body reeks of demon. Strongly. Bathing won't erase it. The two who came with you smelled the same. Means same demon. And Brother Jayden—no, Father Jade's neck wound? Clearly a demon bite."
Saf clamped her mouth shut again, but Puol pressed relentlessly.
"I'll ask again. You met a demon, Sister Sof? Whether Sof is your real name, I don't know."
Saf couldn't part her lips, but Puol kept pushing.
"What demon? Did it say its name? How are you alive after meeting one?"
Puol fell silent briefly, as if waiting for an answer.
Saf still said nothing.
Puol unleashed more questions.
"How did you meet Father Jade and travel together? A priestess and priest crossing the desert—must be quite the story."
Saf's hands trembled, her legs shook. The bowl on her thigh fell, spilling goat's milk, but neither moved.
"Decided to stay silent? Note: sound doesn't carry well here. Especially tonight's wind. Even your loudest scream won't reach the main building, let alone anyone outside this door. Another question: what relation to Father Daniel?"
"That's..."
"No, pointless question. Something else. My time's limited too."
Puol flung the tray from his lap aside. The olive oil bottle shattered, leftover vegetables rolled on the floor.
"Your face is strange, Sister. Normally, you'd show fear—no. As a witch, anger to fight me—no. Not emotionless; your whole body's screaming terror. So who are you? Wait, not asking for an answer."
Puol lifted the torn hem of Saf's clothes where she sat on the chair.
"What's this clothing?"
"That's..."
Saf started fabricating a tale about Kaf bandits and Beishuper, then fell silent again. Not from fear blocking her words.
'Just as he said himself. I'm already guilty. No excuse will help. This is formality, questions to extract info. So I say nothing.'
Puol glared and said,
"Answer."
"I won't."
"Forgot everything I said? I suspect you, and you make no effort to clear it. So... only one step left."
Puol grabbed Saf's hair and slammed her face to the floor. The towel on her head fell, her blue hair spilling out.
Puol grabbed her collar but paused.
"Pathetic. I was about to search your body for witch marks. I could've bragged finding them by faint candlelight, even fumbling in dark. But no need. Horns!"
Puol gripped Saf's hair, forcing her head up.
"Which hell did you crawl from, witch? Daring enter my domain?"
Puol slammed Saf's head down again.
Saf's face hit the floor.
"What's your name, witch? Real name!"
Puol smashed Saf's face into the floor once more. Blood gushed from her nose, soaking the ground.
He pressed her occiput with his hand, rubbing her face in the blood.
"I have questions piling up. Your purpose here, ties to Father Daniel, to Jade!"
Puol pulled rope from his long sleeve, bound Saf's hands first, then ankles, linking them. Saf lay immobile, like a hog awaiting slaughter.
Blood from her nose choked her breath, but Puol stuffed the wet towel in her mouth.
"Father Daniel died without telling me much. So you'll tell the rest. Think hard. When I return, you'll have much to say."
Puol tapped Saf's cheek, then slapped her viciously. Her bound, prone body twisted slightly.
Puol blew out the candle and left the room.
Saf wheezed faintly in the dark, making no other sound. Puol's footsteps echoed down the hall, fading into the sandstorm.
'It was me who suggested coming here.'
Saf squeezed her eyes shut.
'I led Father Jade, Father Daniel to a killer! My misfortune brings death! He might be right. I'm a witch. Bringer of misfortune to all!'
Saf writhed, groaning muffledly.
'God, please let only me die. Let me die and save Father Jade.'
Then the wooden window burst open, and something black whooshed in with the sand-laden wind. In the pitch dark without a candle, no face or form was visible.
Saf thought God sent the angel of death to answer her prayer. But the angel spoke in Ruby's voice.
"Shall I help?"