Heretic Inquisitor Who Might Die (2)
There's a saying that no news is good news. It means that the absence of news implies everything is fine, making it good news in itself. But in the Elf's case, it's the exception. Even when news arrives, it's unsettling, and when it doesn't, the anxiety doubles. How am I supposed to know what wicked scheme she's plotting somewhere? Because of that, over the past three days, I'd occasionally step out to the front courtyard to check if the Elf was behaving herself before heading back inside.
But today, it looked like I wouldn't be able to leave.
"Let... go."
The Elf's voice sent a chill down my spine. The sight of her mercilessly hacking away at the shrub I cherished was nowhere in sight—her momentum and glare were signals that she'd pulverize a person without hesitation. Even a heretic inquisitor wouldn't be exempt. If a murder occurred in the mansion—and of a heretic inquisitor, no less—I'd be branded a heretic for keeping a demon as a slave, with no room for excuses. I absolutely couldn't allow that!
No, who'd just walk past a situation where a murder might actually happen?
"H-Heretic Inquisitor!"
I raised my voice to draw both their gazes to me. Pretending to be calm, I descended the mansion's entrance steps and positioned myself between them.
"I didn't expect you so early. You could have sent word ahead."
I laughed and spoke casually, prompting the heretic inquisitor to release the Elf's wrist. He gave her a dubious once-over before bowing politely to me.
"How could a servant of the god not welcome such a guest? It's an honor to meet you, Lord Theorad Deharm, head of the family."
"No need for formalities. Under the name of the god, we're all mere insects. What should I call you?"
"Hamtarshin Labelro. Feel free to call me Hamtarshin."
"Very well. That aside..."
I trailed off, glancing at the Elf. She was glaring ferociously at Hamtarshin, but the moment our eyes met, her expression flipped, and she started sniffling. I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not. Hiding my inner turmoil, I continued.
"Did my slave act rudely toward you by any chance? I happened to glimpse you two exchanging heated words earlier."
"My apologies for showing you an unseemly sight, my lord. However, this lamb you've taken in... I suspect she's no ordinary slave."
Suspicion flickered in Hamtarshin's eyes. Suspicion itself was fine, but voicing it in front of the Elf was a problem.
Not only your life is at risk—mine is too...!
I inwardly screamed as I turned to the Elf. Seeing the moisture gathering in her beautiful red eyes stirred an unwelcome pang of guilt, but there was only one way to dispel Hamtarshin's doubts right here and now.
"You insolent wench!"
I scowled and slapped her cheek.
Smack!
Before the Elf, whose head had snapped to the side, could recover, I berated her again.
"How dare you act out in front of a guest in my mansion and a heretic inquisitor chosen by the God of Light? Know your place, you worthless thing! How long do you intend to shame me?!"
The Elf stared up at me in dazed shock for a moment before realizing this was part of the act. She dropped to her knees and clutched at my pant leg.
"Hieeek...! S-sorry, M-Master! I-I'm the one who w-was wrong...!"
"Hmph. Useless wench. I'm the fool who paid good money for trash like you."
"S-sorreeey...! I-I'm just a r-retard who only knows h-how to get p-pregnant with Master's s-seed... sorreeey...!"
"...What?"
No, why invent something that didn't happen, you madwoman?! Flustered, I turned to Hamtarshin, only to find him staring at me with disgust. A chill crept up my spine.
"Priest Hamtarshin, it's not what you think. There seems to be a misunderstanding..."
"No need for excuses. As long as slave relations don't exceed a certain level of debauchery, we don't bring religious trials for sexual acts. If our church rounded up every lecherous noble, there'd be none left in the empire."
"No, I really..."
"Enough. We'll overlook that matter, so no need to worry. More importantly, there must be a reason you summoned me to the mansion."
I wanted to explain, but I'd save it for later. As Hamtarshin said, there was a reason the heretic inquisitor had been called to the mansion (though I hadn't done the calling).
Of course, I had no desire to voice it outright. With the Elf watching, I had to be vague.
"Indeed. If you need anything related, I pledge the honor of the Deharm Viscountcy to assist wholeheartedly. Just say the word."
"What I need... This heretic trial is about detecting lies and drawing out truth, so my requirements are minimal. Just prepare two things, my lord."
"Two things?"
"Yes. First, gather all the suspected individuals in one place. Second, provide a private space for one-on-one conversations."
"Such a place..."
There was a perfect spot.
"My ancestors built a chapel on the estate grounds. It has a confessional ready for the sacrament of penance. How about conducting the interrogations there?"
"Oh? I'd be overjoyed as a servant of the god. To have a chapel on the estate—your forebears must have been men of great faith."
"We've served the God of Light for generations."
I returned Hamtarshin's smile with one of my own. But feeling the Elf's grip tighten on my pant leg made it hard to keep it natural.
The Deharm family's small chapel.
"Is that the heretic inquisitor? First time seeing a priest who carries a sword."
"Yeah, he looks kinda scary."
"But he's not a bad guy. He serves the God of Light, after all."
The servants Habid had brought sat in the chapel's long pews, whispering among themselves. I took a seat at the very back, where I could see everyone, but the Elf boldly claimed the spot beside me. It felt like sitting on pins and needles.
"I am Hamtarshin Labelro, dispatched from the Balance Church that serves the God of Light."
Hamtarshin's voice echoed through the chapel, silencing the murmurs. He basked in the attention with a benevolent smile.
"I've gathered you here to foster understanding among yourselves. Lies in speech deceive others and hinder true comprehension—violating the God of Light's commandments and basic human decency. Thus, I shall correct it in His stead."
As Hamtarshin narrowed his eyes, his benevolence took on a solemn air. He scanned the servants gravely and continued.
"Enter the confessional one by one, in the order I instructed the head butler. If your heart is pure and free of sin, you'll receive a blessing. If tainted by falsehoods, divine punishment awaits."
He was saying, in fancy terms, that liars would regret it. I coughed awkwardly, feeling a twinge of guilt, but Hamtarshin paid it no mind.
"I'll enter first. Please come in one at a time."
Hamtarshin entered the confessional with a smiling face. Habid strode formally to the altar before the cross, unfurled a paper, and announced.
"Enter in the order I call. Once interrogated, leave the chapel and resume your duties. Beginning now. First, Karasin! Next, Maltaro! Then Airan..."
Habid called names steadily. Naturally, mine wasn't on the list. Habid had insisted to Hamtarshin that the family head couldn't be the culprit, and after a reluctant glance, Hamtarshin had nodded.
So, Hamtarshin would learn nothing here. No one could have witnessed the Elf pissing on my father's statue that day. And she wouldn't confess to it herself. She seemed plenty satisfied with her current life of "abuse"—why ruin it?
In the end, this would blow over as a mere incident. But preparing for the worst, I had the activation slate for the "Great Beast-Hunting Weapon" hidden in my bosom. Used cleverly as evidence, it would prove my innocence easily.
"Yaaawn. S-sleepy, Master..."
As I mentally calculated, the Elf leaned her head on my shoulder. Her silvery hair cascaded down it like a waterfall. I tensed, wondering if she craved more abuse, but her half-closed eyes looked genuinely drowsy. Fair enough—she'd been out in the front courtyard since early morning, pruning under the blazing sun. Though butchering my prized shrub could hardly be called pruning.
Fairy tales clearly said elves loved trees. Was the tale wrong, or was this Elf?
Whatever. Ignore her.
She wasn't asking for it, so no need to provoke trouble. I casually pulled out a book and immersed myself in reading. The Elf dozed off against me and soon slipped into sleep. Her soft breathing blended faintly with the servants' chatter. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, painting everything in auroral hues. It was warm and serene—a truly peaceful scene.
This is exactly what I wanted.
A peaceful life with an innocent slave who relied on me. Not this lunatic who begged for abuse the moment she woke... Resentment welled up, but spilled water couldn't be gathered. With a quiet sigh, I focused on my book.
About three hours later, Rebera—the last on the list—emerged from the confessional. Head bowed, she passed me without a glance and left the chapel.
What?
Rebera's a good kid. She'd usually greet me before leaving.
Bad mood today?
I didn't know, but something must have upset her. Anyway, with the heretic trial over, we had no more business here. As I closed my book to praise Hamtarshin's efforts, he emerged from the confessional, brushing off his clothes.
"I think I know who the culprit is."
His low baritone echoed in the now-empty chapel. Hamtarshin approached with measured steps, hand on his sword hilt, looking down at me arrogantly.
"Not content with using a slave to tarnish your father's honor, you lie too? Aren't you ashamed to face the heavens?"
Uh...? What? How did he know I made the Elf piss on my father's statue?
As I hesitated, sweating coldly, Hamtarshin spoke again.
"I cannot overlook this. As heretic inquisitor, I must interrogate you as a suspected heretic, Lord Theorad."
"Ah. W-well, you see..."
Caught, my shoulders twitched. The Elf's eyes fluttered open. I instinctively glanced her way and saw her lips moving expressionlessly. No sound, but the shape was clear: Annoying. Keep it up.
Realizing it was aimed at Hamtarshin, not me, I couldn't shake the fear that he might become the first heretic inquisitor to die in this chapel.