Chapter 581: Sent by God in Place of His Messenger
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 581: Sent by God in Place of His Messenger
The moment she opened her eyes, the Saintess instinctively curled into a defensive ball like a cat. Yet, she didn't lash out or panic. Though her posture was taut with wariness, the child’s eyes remained eerily calm. She was remarkably composed.
"Where am I? Who are you? And who is that giant?"
On top of that, she’s quick to grasp the situation.
Encrid answered her questions without hesitation.
After listening to his explanation, the child glossed over the details she didn't recognize and proved she understood the rest by asking sharp, clarifying questions.
"So, a Paladin came and killed the person chasing me. That means I won't be dragged back immediately, but I’m still in danger."
Encrid nodded. However, the child's next words caught him completely off guard. It was a request he hadn't expected in the slightest.
"Can we part ways here? I still have unfinished business."
She didn't say this out of a desperate urge to flee. Based on his explanation, she seemed to fully grasp the gravity of her circumstances—namely, that if she were left alone, the Holy Order would eventually hunt her down.
In the meantime, Encrid had also confirmed the child's identity, which he had been curious about. She was saying this despite knowing exactly who she was and what was at stake.
He had heard she was a Highlander, one of the Mountain Folk, but even so, the child knew she couldn't easily escape the grasp of the Holy Order on her own. Of course, if she retreated deep into the mountains and managed to hold out in her homeland, things might be different. The Holy Order might eventually give up, or conversely, they might set the entire mountain range ablaze just to smoke her out.
No one could predict the future. But looking at the immediate reality, it was no exaggeration to say that the safest place for her right now was by Encrid's side.
Yet she wanted to leave?
"May I ask what this business is?"
Encrid asked out of pure curiosity. Seiki answered immediately. By now, her posture had relaxed slightly. She sat properly, resting her arms and legs quietly.
"Because I escaped, someone else has fallen into a difficult situation. And..."
Rather than pausing for effect, she seemed to be hesitating over whether to voice the rest.
"And?" Encrid prompted, signaling for her to continue.
"I think there might be other children locked up besides me," Seiki said, laying her thoughts bare.
"So, you're saying you want to go back to the place where they imprisoned you?"
"Back then, I didn't know anything. But now I know the layout and the situation. I don't know why you saved me, but I can't just turn a blind eye to this. My plan from the start was to recover after escaping and then go back."
There was no need to ask why. The answer was obvious.
To save people.
It was the exact same reason Encrid had saved Seiki.
"In my eyes, what they are doing is not right," Seiki added.
A stubborn streak colored her voice. Seeing this, Sinar shifted her gaze from Seiki and stared intently at Encrid.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I’m just admiring my fiancé's face."
Naturally, that wasn't the real reason. It was because the words of this child, Seiki, sounded so much like the things Encrid usually said.
Hearing Seiki's resolve, Encrid gave a slight, approving nod. She was right. It wasn't right. Therefore, he had no intention of letting it slide.
If Audin had been here, he would have wept and nodded in agreement, declaring the child was absolutely correct. Wasn't that why Encrid had set off to bash the head of the Archbishop or whoever was in charge? Because he couldn't stand to watch such things?
To put it more elegantly, he had set out to purify the Holy Order.
"My grandfather said that whether you live alone or with others, you must forge ahead according to what you believe is right," Seiki added.
Not a single shred of doubt flickered in her eyes. She truly believed it with all her heart. It was the same path Encrid walked. Thus, there was no reason not to help her.
"Do you remember the location?"
"Yes."
"Let's go together."
"I'd appreciate that."
The child understood reality too well to refuse. She answered immediately, as if she had been waiting for the offer. Sinar, who had been watching the exchange, spoke up.
"You seem to have a soft spot for women and children."
Encrid looked at Sinar for a moment before replying, "I am certainly not soft on women who are older than me."
"...You rascal."
Sinar gave him a rare glare. Since seeing this expression on her face was even more fascinating than seeing her smile, Encrid chuckled.
It was a late morning, the temperature having plummeted due to the late autumn rain. Encrid spoke to the carriage driver.
"Turn the carriage around."
"Pardon?"
"Let's head back toward the city."
The driver complied without question. As they headed back, Encrid thought to himself: He had rescued the Saintess, but there was still unfinished business she had left behind.
Would it be difficult? Surely not.
*
"I'm planning to sneak in and rescue them," Seiki said, sharing her plan as the monastery came into view.
It was a reasonably logical approach: create a distraction, rescue the captives, and escape. Since Seiki had been unconscious during her rescue, she didn't know the extent of Encrid's skills. Having lived in the mountains and then being confined for eight months, she knew nothing of the power of Knights.
Sinar spoke to her kindly. Having observed her for a few days, Sinar found she quite liked the child.
"Sneak in? That won't be necessary."
"Won't it be dangerous?"
When she was imprisoned, Seiki had observed the daily lives of the Martial Monks. They were training monsters who spent over three hours every day conditioning their bodies. She estimated there were at least twenty of them based on food supplies and signs of human presence.
She was highly intelligent and not the type to recklessly charge into an impossible task. Her original plan had been centered on avoiding those monks entirely.
Though that plan was meaningless now.
The monastery was located near the western border of Naurilia. They had sent the carriage back halfway and traveled the rest of the way on foot. Encrid and Sinar were tireless walkers, and Seiki was swift on her feet; while slower than a carriage, they made decent time.
Watching Seiki move, Encrid understood how she had managed to escape in the first place.
She's quite talented.
Her being a Highlander wasn't just empty talk.
When they arrived at the entrance of the monastery, two fierce-looking monks glared at them. Seiki didn't know what her companions were planning, but she saw an unshakeable confidence in Encrid and the elf. She decided to trust them.
Encrid marched right up to the monastery entrance. A large wooden door bound with iron bands and tangled with vines came into view, flanked by gray walls covered in ivy. From a distance, it looked like a peaceful sanctuary where people did nothing but brew wine. After all, most monasteries made a living by selling wine, bread, soap, or jam.
"Who goes there? This is the land of the Holy Order. No entry without an invitation," the monk guarding the gate demanded. With forearms that thick, he looked much better at using his fists than his tongue.
"Guests," Encrid replied, without breaking his stride.
"You're just walking in?" Seiki whispered from behind.
Just as the two monks reached out to intercept them, Seiki heard two sharp whooshes. Without even a groan, the monks' eyes rolled back, and they collapsed.
As if performing a rehearsed play, Encrid slightly bent his knees and extended his arms to catch both men by their midsections, gently lowering them to the ground. They were completely unconscious.
"...What did you just do?"
To her, it was a miracle. Sinar offered an explanation; for some reason, she seemed slightly excited by the venture, making her more talkative than usual.
"He struck their windpipes and jaws. Simultaneously, with both hands."
To be precise, he had splayed his fingers, striking their throats with the webs of his hands to prevent them from crying out, then immediately clenched his fists and delivered upward strikes to their jaws. It was incredibly fast, but his control of force was a work of art. He had knocked them out without shattering a single bone.
A Knight, in the end, was an existence that transcended human limits. They could perform feats that seemed utterly impossible to ordinary people.
"Let's go," Encrid said.
Even if this monastery was corrupt to the core, forcing their way in was tantamount to declaring war on the Holy Order. Anyone else would have shaken their heads in disbelief. Turning the Holy Order into an enemy just to save a few people? Does that make any sense?
But Encrid didn't care. Even during his past battles, Audin's words had echoed clearly in his ears.
"You will be hunted for the rest of your life."
If he had to be hunted for doing what was right, then so be it. If it was the path he believed in, he would walk it. That was how he had always lived.
"It is a miracle you have survived this long," Sinar remarked, guessing at Encrid's past.
Seiki could only watch blankly, but she was no ordinary child. Though astonished, she did her part, acting as a guide to where the people who helped her were likely imprisoned.
"Who goes there!"
"What is this!"
More monks rushed out, but it was futile.
"Just visiting," Encrid replied casually, his hands and feet a blur of motion.
Encrid's body was far from perfect, but it was more than enough for this. A sturdy club he had picked up served as a substitute for his broken sword.
Suddenly, a monk swung a unique sword—two spans longer than a normal blade—with incredible speed. Only against this strike did Encrid draw his shortsword.
Pulling back the club in his right hand, he drew the blade with his left and swung. As his hands crossed, a flash of light erupted.
Clang!
As if reflecting its master's will, the sword crafted by Eitri sheared the monk's blade in half. It was a perfect harmony of strength, technique, and the quality of the steel.
That was the end of the resistance. The monk who had stepped forward turned pale.
"I yield."
Once he admitted defeat, the others bowed their heads. They soon found the people Seiki had mentioned.
*
"Why did you do it, brother?"
It was a simple question that didn't even require a koan.
"Do you really need my answer?"
The Saintess had escaped, and he had hidden her. Wasn't that answer enough? That was the meaning behind the monk's counter-question.
"Did you want to be the only righteous one? Are you satisfied now?"
The one who asked with a bitter smile was like a real brother to him. Should he hold him guilty? Even if he had the power, he couldn't. He had no right.
There was a punishment for such "righteousness."
It was to drip boiling candle wax into both eyes and ears. The reasoning was that he had eyes but failed to see properly, and ears but failed to hear the Order's truth.
The punished monk's head had been shaved completely bald. The Martial Monk administering the torture sneered at him.
"Tsk, you could have just stayed quiet."
He was a loyal servant of Abbess Shilma. Hot wax dripped into the monk's eyes and flowed into his ears.
"Arghhh..."
Instead of screaming, he thrashed on the floor like a wounded beast. The pain gnawed at his flesh, but his spirit remained unbroken.
Whom should I blame?
The monk believed he couldn't even blame the one inflicting the pain. For he, too, was only doing what he was ordered to do. Then who was to blame?
The monk believed he shouldn't dwell on guilt. It was simply a moment to move forward. And so, he prayed for the strength to do so.
Before holding us guilty, please show us the hope of salvation first.
He needed faith that things could change. What if a messenger of God descended? He wished for that. If that messenger were to unleash His wrath and slay the corrupt, there would be those who would witness it, awaken, and learn.
The monk's gaze drifted to one side. He saw a woman huddled against the musty stone wall. She was a middle-aged priestess he had known since childhood, renowned for her sewing. It would be difficult for her to ever work a needle and thread again.
Tomorrow, both of her hands would be severed.
Because of the wax, he had gone blind in one eye. He could only see half the world now. In a dreamlike state, someone asked him:
"Do you regret it?"
No. I do not. Even if everyone in the Holy Order curses and spits on me, leaving that child to her fate was not right.
After letting Seiki escape, the monk had tried to rescue the other children locked in the basement, but it had been an impossible task.
O God, please send Your messenger. Not to punish our sins, but to bestow teachings upon those of us who are poor in spirit.
"Come any closer and I'll kill him!"
Amidst his half-asleep prayers, someone grabbed his neck. He felt hot breath against his skin. The person standing behind him pulled him tight and pressed a short dagger against his throat. The voice was familiar—Abbess Shilma's loyal servant, the one who had just tortured him.
The man was gasping, his breath laced with panic and fear.
Through his blurry vision, the monk saw someone beyond the cell door. A shadow entered first, his face obscured by the lantern light behind him. However, the light enveloped him like a halo.
"If you kill me, you will make an enemy of the Holy Order!" the man screamed in terror.
And the messenger, framed by the halo, spoke.
"I don't care."
With those words, the light extending from behind him stretched forward. At least, that was how it appeared to the monk. The moment the figure raised his arm, the torchlight seeped into the monk's damaged eyes.
A flash of that light brushed past his face.
A warm liquid poured from behind, soaking the monk's back. Warmth spread through his body, which had been shivering on the cold prison floor. Between the warmth and the light, the monk whispered:
"Has... has God's messenger come?"
The figure replied immediately.
"No. My name is Encrid, and I am from the Border Guard. Today's actions were done of my own free will. If anyone wishes to hold me accountable, I will not run."
Though he had only one working eye, the monk could clearly see the man standing before him. In his eyes, Encrid was like a boulder that stood firm regardless of crashing waves or raging storms.
He was not a messenger of God. He was a hero standing there, declaring he would not run from the consequences of his justice.
At least to the monk, he was indeed a hero.
A hero God had sent in place of His messenger.