Heretic Inquisitor on the Brink of Death (4)
“M-Master, I wasn’t trying to k-kill you, I just…… as a h-heretic inquisitor……!”
His words broke off in ragged bursts, unable to form full sentences. An invisible hand, impossible to shake off, was clenched tightly around his throat. Thanks to that, Hamtarshin felt not just grievance, but boiling rage. Trying to kill Theorad? What reason could he possibly have for that?
He wanted to clear up the misunderstanding, but at this rate, he’d suffocate to death.
“Kehk, guk……!”
Now foam was bubbling past his saliva. Just as the light faded from his rolled-back eyes, the Elf tilted her head.
“Fine.”
The invisible hand choking Hamtarshin’s throat vanished. Huuuuh! He gulped in air desperately, coughing violently like a man choking on phlegm.
The Elf gazed indifferently at his face, smeared with spit and snot, then leaned back in her seat.
“I’ll give you a chance to speak. Tell me why you tried to kill Theorad.”
Having finally caught his breath, Hamtarshin lifted his head.
“What the hell are you…….”
“Did I ever say you could talk casually to me?”
Crack! Hamtarshin’s index finger twisted grotesquely.
“Aaaah, aaaargh—!”
Pain from the shattered bone surged through his body. Writhing like a madman, Hamtarshin grabbed the confessional door to flee, but clunk! It wouldn’t open, locked from the outside.
He yanked and twisted the handle desperately, pounding on the door with wails of despair.
“Open it! Please, open the door! I beg you!”
Like a sinner clawing to escape hell, he screamed. Hamtarshin fought to flee the confessional, but the Elf simply watched with leisure.
“Scream all you want. I’ve put a soundproof barrier on the confessional.”
“Hic, hngh……”
Abandoning the handle, Hamtarshin sobbed lowly in resignation. Gone was the authoritative demeanor backed by the Church’s might; now he was like a child begging forgiveness from stern parents.
“I-I never tried to kill Lord Theorad of the Deharm family……”
Twist! His middle finger twisted like a corkscrew.
Overwhelmed by even greater agony, Hamtarshin gaped silently, his body shuddering. The pain had exceeded his threshold, silencing even his screams. Drooling intermittently and gurgling, he finally realized why this misunderstanding had arisen.
The slate……!
The Elf believed this absurd lie because Theorad had handed him that slate. No point telling the truth—she wouldn’t listen. In her mind, he was already guilty.
This cunning devil……!
Theorad had planned this from the start, passing the slate deliberately. It had seemed off at first. Pissing on his father’s statue, then requesting a heretic inquisitor from the diocese? Anyone could see it was a ploy to shift blame for attacking the Elf.
How many moves ahead did he see……!
A human more devilish than devils! Hamtarshin ground his teeth amid groans of pain. Trapped in the mire, he had to exploit some gap in the Elf’s guard to escape.
As the pain eased, he eyed her warily—and realized how shortsighted he’d been. She hadn’t moved an inch from her seat.
Using magic like that without any mana tools?
Even archmages needed wands and such to amplify spells. Yet this Elf wielded advanced elemental magic, barriers, and telekinesis with mere intent, no equipment. Her level was unfathomable.
Gulp.
Despair flooded Hamtarshin’s heart. The Elf sighed and spoke.
“Whatever. Short-lived races’ political squabbles are just annoying. Knowing the reason won’t change anything.”
So what to do with you? Her narrowed eyes fixed on him.
“Killing you would be a hassle. It’d end my fun right there. Right?”
He didn’t know, but better agree. Hamtarshin forced a smile and nodded vigorously.
“Y-Yes, exactly.”
“But leaving you be risks more trouble. So I’ll leave a mark.”
A stinging sensation pricked his lower back. Panicking, Hamtarshin saw the Elf’s faint smile.
“Now I can kill you anytime. You worship tenets as god, don’t you? Get it?”
“I-I’ll keep silent about everything that happened at the mansion.”
“Good. Quick on the uptake.”
Snap! She flicked her fingers, and his twisted, broken fingers reverted to normal.
But Hamtarshin had no time to marvel at the miracle. The Elf was staring.
“Now open the confessional door and leave. Act like nothing happened in front of Theorad. If you want to live.”
“I-I’ll remember that.”
Bowing deeply, Hamtarshin opened the door and exited.
Relief was short-lived. Spotting Theorad waiting, a chill ran down his spine.
“Ah, Inquisitor. Did the interrogation go well?”
Impeccably dressed, handsome, his gestures and tone radiated kindness through that wrinkle-free smile. That made Theorad even more terrifying to Hamtarshin.
Hundreds of snakes must writhe behind that facade.
His fatal mistake: underestimating the man. Heir to a prestigious house for seven generations, Theorad’s cunning was no surprise.
“Yes. No issues with the interrogation.”
Meeting those eyes was unbearable. Staring at Theorad’s chin, Hamtarshin hurried across the chapel.
“With the heretic judgment complete, I’ll take my leave.”
His steps were fleeing. Theorad tilted his head, puzzled by the inquisitor’s back.
Why’s he acting like that? Didn’t even report the results.
Whatever. He must have witnessed the truth talking to the Elf. With the slate, he’d claim Theorad’s innocence to the bishop and explain the mansion’s situation.
The Church knights might even come to the mansion.
That could free him from the Elf’s grasp.
Go for it! I believe in you! Theorad watched Hamtarshin’s receding figure, cheering inwardly.
Balance Church, Central Empire Diocese 5. Bishop Leviham’s office in the admonition chamber.
Knock knock— Leviham looked up from his paperwork at the sound.
“Ah, yes. Come in.”
Hamtarshin entered. Leviham set down his quill with a smile.
“Back from the heretic interrogation, I see. Well done.”
“Not at all. Just doing my duty. Now, my report.”
“Yes. Were there really heretics in the Deharm viscountcy?”
A brief silence. Hamtarshin shook his head.
“No. Just a misunderstanding. No heretics in the Deharm household. More devout than I thought.”
“Hmm. I see. Anything else?”
“Nothing more, Bishop.”
“Good. You look exhausted—go rest.”
“Thank you for your grace.”
Hamtarshin bowed and left. Leviham’s smile faded to a grave expression.
The inquisitor is lying.
Hollow eyes, dry lips, dazed face, weary steps, trembling tone, averted gaze, quivering pupils. All screamed deception.
An inquisitor, who treats lies as the gravest sin, speaking falsehoods?
It defied logic. Unthinkable in normal circumstances. The Deharm family must have broken him mentally.
But Hamtarshin was a devout priest Leviham respected. He wouldn’t bend to family power. That left Theorad Deharm pulling some trick.
But Theorad?
Why would a naturally benevolent man torment an inquisitor? Frowning in thought, Leviham pulled a document from his desk stack.
A registry of local nobles’ profiles and attitudes toward the Church.
Theorad Deharm
Danger Level: Grade 6. Does not hesitate to bestow charity. Very friendly to the Church. Gentle nature earns deep trust from his people. No enemies amid political interests.
A record from Leviham’s days as assistant bishop. He had no reason to doubt it—Theorad matched the description.
Three years ago, was it?
Spring rain gently soaked the world. Out on market business, Leviham spotted Theorad in an alley and hid, sensing the tension.
Theorad spoke to a collapsed woman holding a swaddled infant.
— Do you remember the robber’s face? Didn’t he kill your husband and burn your home?
— Hic, he wore a mask. I couldn’t see. I’m sorry, my lord.
— No need for apologies. Don’t act the fool—give me your name.
— Harya. Harya Darnil.
— Good. Harya.
Theorad knelt on one knee. Puddles soiled his fine clothes, but he ignored it. Nobles who’d rage at a speck of dirt seemed petty by comparison.
— I investigated the fire, saw your dead husband. I believe you. I’ll catch the culprit, no matter the years. And……
Theorad unclasped his phoenix brooch. The woman’s eyes widened in shock, but he pressed on.
— Take this. Sell it at a jeweler to get by. You need milk for the child, right?
— M-My lord! I can’t accept!
She waved her hands in horror. A gold coin was one thing, but that brooch could sustain a commoner luxuriously for three years. Yet Theorad placed it in her hand matter-of-factly.
— Take it. No regrets later.
— Someone like me can’t……
— Nobility and commoners are equal before life. It’s not because you’re ‘someone like you’—it’s for you. Repay the grace with survival.
Theorad rose and left the alley. The woman stared after him, murmuring thanks through sobs.
A true saint.
Even Leviham had been moved, feeling deep respect.
Such a man tormenting an inquisitor?
It made no sense. All an act? Had he spotted Leviham and performed for the Church’s favor?
“Hmm.”
Unlikely, but doubt lingered. Especially with the inquisitor submitting to Deharm.
After deliberation, Leviham revised the entry.
Theorad Deharm
Danger Level: Grade 4. Possesses cunning to subjugate an inquisitor. Reason unknown—exercise caution.
He’d visit the mansion himself someday to uncover the truth. Closing the registry, Leviham returned to work. Too many duties to fixate on Theorad.