A Meeting That Should Never Have Happened
Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, pouring softly into the cathedral. As countless parishioners watched, Bishop Leviham of the diocese closed the Bible with a reverent gesture.
"This concludes our regular service. Always hold gratitude in your hearts for the God of Light, Karatias, spread the gospel to your neighbors, and bestow grace upon the poor."
Finishing his words, Leviham clasped his hands and murmured briefly.
"Amen."
At Leviham's lead, the parishioners bowed their heads and echoed the same.
As the service ended, the faithful rose naturally from their seats and began filing out of the cathedral one by one, blending reverence with a touch of bustle. Just as Leviham was gathering his personal items from the pulpit to leave, an inquisitor in black priestly robes approached with a troubled expression. It was Hamtarshin, who had been dispatched to the Deharm mansion.
"Um, Bishop."
"Ah! Father Hamtarshin."
Leviham greeted him with his characteristic kind smile. "Do you have some business with me?"
"Well... I heard you're planning to visit the Deharm mansion today."
"Oh, yes. I'm curious about that tremendous magic that occurred at the Deharm mansion yesterday, and I wanted to pay my respects to Lord Theorad, the devout head of the family."
At the words devout believer, Hamtarshin's brow furrowed. As long as the elf's mark remained on his body, he couldn't speak the full truth, but since it was the bishop he respected, he wanted to offer at least some warning.
"This is just my personal opinion, but I think stepping foot in the Deharm household isn't a good idea."
"Not a good idea..." Leviham stroked his chin and asked innocently, "Could you tell me why you think that, Father Hamtarshin?"
"...My instincts tell me so."
"Instincts." Leviham tilted his head. "Is an inquisitor who serves the divine trying to block my path just because his instincts are bad? That doesn't seem like a valid reason. Or is there some shady deal happening at the mansion that I don't know about?"
Hamtarshin's shoulders twitched. It felt like Leviham was testing him. Beneath that smiling face, he sensed a sharp clarity regarding his suspicions. But he wouldn't know the full details. He had merely sensed that something had happened at the mansion.
I have to stop him...
No matter how exceptional Bishop Leviham was at holy magic, he couldn't possibly stand against that monstrous elf. To deal with the elf, it would take at least the church's holy knights... or His Holiness the Pope or Her Highness the Saintess personally entering the mansion to purge the impurity.
Yet Hamtarshin couldn't bring himself to speak. The elf's chilling warning echoed relentlessly in his mind.
— With this, I can kill you anytime. A pathetic worm who mistakes convention for god. Do you understand what that means?
The imprinted memory overwhelmed his conscience. Ironically, in this most sacred space of the cathedral, Hamtarshin feared defying the elf's words more than the sin of lying.
Thus, he couldn't stop the bishop's decision.
"...Nothing happened at the mansion."
He had always believed faith mattered more than life, but when his life was truly at stake, he couldn't act on it.
"Still, please be careful, Bishop."
He hid the tremor in his voice by bowing his head.
Leviham turned his suspicion into certainty from Hamtarshin's behavior but didn't show it. After all, his true purpose for visiting the Deharm mansion was to capture clear evidence of whatever had turned his once-devout inquisitor into a coward.
"Yes, I will, Father Hamtarshin."
Discussing the great magic was merely a pretext for the visit. If it turned out that Theorad had intimidated Hamtarshin and tried to bend a servant of the Savior to his will, he deserved divine punishment accordingly. For the God of Light willed it.
"Don't worry too much."
Leviham looked up behind him with a benevolent expression. The massive statue of the goddess reaching to the cathedral ceiling gazed down upon them with divinity. Before that majestic sight, Leviham recited with conviction.
"The God of Light does not betray the faithful."
*
"Puhahaha!"
Inside the carriage heading back to the mansion, Baynen suddenly burst into laughter. He slapped his thigh repeatedly, wiping away tears, clearly amused by something.
"...Are you insane?"
"Nah, isn't it hilarious, young master?"
"What is?"
"Dremes using formal speech with you. 'I'll serve you proper-like, young mastew... Puhh!"
His impression was ridiculously exaggerated. Seeing my displeased glare, Baynen wiped the tears from his eyes and steadied his breathing.
"Anyway, thanks to you, I got a good laugh. Appreciate it, young master."
"A laugh? You said witches throw tantrums on first meetings to establish hierarchy."
"That's true too, but it was still funny. Right now, that bitch Dremes is probably spewing every curse in the book back at her shop, breathing fire. Exaggerating a bit, she might even come to kill me soon."
"...Wouldn't that be a problem if she came to kill you?"
Baynen smirked at my question.
"Even if she comes to kill me, she won't. Witches don't harm their 'friends.' It's an unwritten rule in witch society."
"Never heard that before. Is it hard to befriend a witch?"
"Well, yeah, pretty hard. I heard even non-church folk joined the witch hunts back in the day. So witches basically don't like humans."
"Yet you managed to befriend one, Baynen. What's the story there?"
"Eh, it's a long explanation... Pretty boring, so you probably don't wanna hear it. More importantly, did I ever tell you about the time I fucked an orc?"
Sly fox. He was a master at changing the subject, as natural as breathing. And the biggest problem here was that I was extremely curious about that 'orc story.'
But I was the head of the prestigious Deharm family and a vice-count trusted by the count. For the sake of dignity, I couldn't just blurt out that I was curious. Instead, I gave a subtle glance to hint at it.
"Can I tell you?"
"If you really want to."
"Heh, got it."
Leaning back in his seat, Baynen reminisced.
"Back when I was a mercenary, way before the orc subjugation war. I was taking any job that came my way, and one day, I got a request to clear out an orc tribe in the nearby mountains."
"And?"
"Figured I couldn't do it alone, so I gathered some skilled adventurers. There was even a mage in the mix. But when we got there, the orcs were way too strong. My skills were crap back then too."
Baynen clicked his tongue and continued.
"We got our asses kicked and ended up as hostages for the tribe. Thought we were done for, but get this—the tribe chief was a female orc. So I used my wits."
"Baynen, you don't mean..."
"Yep. I yelled that we'd do it, and if I satisfied her, she'd let us go alive. She must've found me funny 'cause that night, she made me attend her. But once I entered the chief's hut, panic hit hard."
This was getting hard to listen to.
"How was a human dick gonna match that massive bitch's pace? I'm not small, but not enough to blow an orc's mind. So I decided to use tools. Borrowed the mage's staff, strapped it to my dick, and went all-in on survival sex..."
I raised my hand to stop him; I couldn't hear any more.
"That's enough."
"Huh? The fun part's just starting. This is pretty famous among mercenaries, y'know?"
"Famous or not, the fact you're alive here lets me guess the rest. I don't wanna hear what I don't need to."
Baynen scratched his cheek and nodded indifferently.
"If that's how you see it, young master."
Even if it weren't me, no one would want to hear the gritty details of orc-fucking. Feeling queasy for no reason, I turned to gaze out the window. As the breeze brushed my face and calmed my rattled mind, the carriage jolted to a stop. The coachman opened the door.
"My lord, Sir Knight! We're here."
"Good. Thanks for your work."
Baynen hopped out first, holding the crystal orb. I followed, walking beside him toward the mansion entrance, my eyes fixed on the orb in his hand.
Seeing the crystal orb etched with the witch's mark stirred my curiosity.
"By the way, Baynen. The church and witches had a big clash in the past—can witches do business in territories full of church folk?"
"No big deal. They acknowledged each other's freedoms on Walpurgis Night. Though if church people find out you're trading with a witch, you'll get misunderstandings."
"Misunderstandings like?"
"Usually just a scolding, but if it's a devout fanatic, it might give them grounds to brand you a heretic...?"
Baynen stopped mid-sentence and froze. I halted too, following his gaze—and turned to ice.
Bishop Leviham?
Dressed in pristine white priestly robes with a blue stole around his neck, Leviham was examining the magic circle etched in the front yard. Keeping the stole on meant he was here on official church business? He wandered around post-service sometimes, but this situation was seriously awkward.
We were holding a crystal orb stamped with a witch's mark, after all.
"Uh... looks like he saw us, young master."
To make matters worse, Leviham spotted us. His light wave and smile sent chills down my spine.
I swallowed hard and forced calm as I spoke.
"Baynen. I value the family honor and my retainers' safety above all. Even if I die, the family name and their lives must be secure."
"I know that well."
"Thus, sometimes, for the greater good, one must sacrifice."
"Young master? What are you...?"
It's fine if he doesn't get it. I turned to Baynen with a solemn tone.
"So from now on, that crystal orb is yours."
Three seconds later, Baynen asked in disbelief.
"...Mine?"