The Inquisitor Still Regrets
The Inquisitor was still drowning in regret. Shaaaaaaa…! That day, the rain had fallen with unusual fury. Yes, exactly like today.
In the ever-escalating brutality of war, the number of wounded soldiers had grown horrific. Naturally, so had the number of those seeking the Goddess’s embrace. The Church of Mercy accepted the injured regardless of nationality, and the sheer volume soon overwhelmed what the novice priests could handle. Not everyone looked kindly upon the clergy. Countless soldiers glared at them with open hostility, even though the priests would heal a man who had driven a blade into their own comrades only moments earlier. On the battlefield, priests became isolated. The ratio of patients to novice priests grew insurmountable. At that rate, even those who could still be saved would be lost.
That was why I was asked to break through the lines, return to the city, and request reinforcements from the Church. I could not refuse. That decision was my mistake. Her naïve assurance that the soldiers would never attack this place. The confident smiles of my comrades as they told me to leave it to them. I should never have believed them. I should have stayed behind myself. I should have sent someone else while trusting in the goodwill of those still fighting.
Shaaaa… That day, the rain had truly poured down without mercy. As though trying to wash away all the blood that had been spilled.
When I returned after delivering the request for reinforcements, I saw thick blood flowing through the bitter rain. Perhaps, even then, some part of me already understood the truth.
Squish. Squish.
A revolting sound. I closed my eyes. What lay before me was simply too horrific to witness.
“Ease up. It’s a corpse—if you break it, we can’t use it anymore.”
“Tsk! That’s why I told you not to kill her when she resisted!”
Nausea surged at their vulgar exchange. They were freely groping the still-warm breasts of her beautiful corpse while thrusting their hips.
“…”
The ones committing this atrocity were none other than the wounded soldiers I had rescued. The very men I had carried back from the gunfire.
I finally steeled myself to face reality and opened my eyes. In that instant, I was forced to witness the full tragedy.
The other wounded soldiers slaughtered by their hands. My comrades lying dead with eyes wide in shock, as if ambushed. And… squish. squish. The sight of those bastards driving their hideous cocks into Sera’s corpse.
At that moment, they finally noticed me.
“Hey, the priest’s back.”
“Too bad that woman didn’t come. She was a real beauty. Women like her go insane once you give them dick—they lose their minds over it.”
The wounded soldiers cackled.
I walked toward them slowly. There were only five. But my comrades had all been upright clergy who knew nothing of combat. These bastards must have taken the holy knights by surprise, then murdered them while they lay defenseless.
Strangely, my mind grew colder. Was this what happened when rage surpassed a certain threshold—when fury turned to ice? The thought flickered through my head.
Crack. Crunch!
“!”
Only when I began crushing them all beneath gravity magic did their expressions finally change.
“Pull it out.”
I spoke in a voice like frozen steel to the sole man untouched by my spell—the piece of filth still buried inside her corpse. The soldier withdrew as though in a trance. I carefully covered her body, now defiled by their filthy semen, with my own robe.
In that moment, I was grateful for the rain. It washed away the dirty semen, the blood… and my tears.
I slowly pushed my finger into the trembling man’s skull.
Crack. Crack.
“S-save…”
As the gravity tightened its grip, they struggled to beg. Their voices no longer reached my ears.
Crack. Like stepping on insects. I crushed them slowly with gravity. While watching them die in gradual agony, I cradled her body, the knife still buried in her throat. And I wept. I wept until Ilena returned from gathering firewood. I wept, regretting my own pathetic, foolish judgment.
“I see. So that’s when you hired her?”
Jenkinson took a light sip of the drink she had brought and asked. Beside him, Asa was marveling at the taste of her beer when Jenny nodded.
“That’s right. I had no idea she was connected to you, Priest. By the way, who is this young lady?”
Jenny was curious about Asa’s identity. If Jenkinson was traveling with a woman, there had to be a reason.
“Hmm…”
Well, there’s no need to hide it from these two.
They already knew his profession, so they would have guessed. Jenkinson answered casually.
“She is a holy knight.”
“Ugh? Uh?”
Asa, mouth full of meat, made a muffled noise. She was probably asking if it was all right to reveal that. Thinking so, Jenkinson continued.
“Both of them already know I’m an Inquisitor. It’s not a fact that needs to be concealed.”
“Ah, I see. So what’s your relationship with that Drina woman?”
Asa leaned in close and whispered quietly into his ear. While Jenny was certainly a striking beauty, Asa personally found herself more bothered by Drina.
“Here! Have some of this too. It’s on me.”
Drina emerged from the kitchen carrying a large platter of meat, setting it down with a bright smile. Watching her open display of goodwill, Jenkinson let out a small sigh.
Sira…
“She was once my mother.”
There was no reason to hide it here. Jenkinson spoke plainly. Both Jenny and Asa looked startled by the answer.
“I’m still grateful. Thanks to him, I was able to start a new life.”
Paying no mind to their reactions, Drina continued with a gentle smile. She had come to genuinely enjoy this ordinary existence. More than the sheltered life of a greenhouse flower, she found joy in earning her own money through her own labor and building a life with her own hands.
“I’m happy that I can earn money, and I enjoy managing it myself. I was also able to meet a good person like Jenny. So… I feel nothing but gratitude toward Priest Jenkinson.”
“Well, if you yourself are happy, then it’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
Though he said it lightly, Jenkinson was genuinely surprised. He had never imagined that the woman raised like a delicate hothouse bloom would adapt so well to this life.
“By the way, Priest, are you here on another mission?”
At Jenny’s question, Jenkinson nodded.
“Yes. Are there any rooms available?”
“A double room?”
Jenny naturally assumed he and Asa would share, but Jenkinson sighed.
“Two single rooms.”
Of course, had it been Yusuba, they would have shared. Since the holy knight’s role was to guard the priest, sharing a room made escorting easier. In that regard, holy knights assigned to Inquisitors were usually matched by gender. The fact that Asa had been sent regardless of gender only confirmed she was here as a trainee rather than a true escort. Knowing this, Jenkinson decided to instruct her.
“I do this because I am a man, but Knight Asa will normally be assigned to a priest of the same gender on your next mission. In those cases, you must share a room.”
“Yes!”
Her answer was as energetic as ever, but… did she truly understand? Jenkinson felt a twinge of worry.
“Two single rooms… we do have them. Shall I prepare those for you?”
Jenny smiled, relieved that rooms were available. Jenkinson paid the fee and rose from his seat.
“I’m tired, so I’ll head up first. Knight Asa, we rise at six o’clock. Remember it clearly and come down on time.”
“Yep!”
With another sigh, Jenkinson headed for the room Jenny had indicated. He felt strangely exhausted. On rainy days like this, memories of that day always left him unusually drained. Because he was still regretting it. His immature self from back then. The version of himself who had failed to save anyone. Jenkinson was still regretting.
“I heard about what happened. It must have been difficult.”
I had been temporarily recalled to the Holy Kingdom to deliver my report. After listening to everything, Bishop Silvestina spoke with a sorrowful expression.
Difficult…
“What could possibly have been difficult for me? The ones who truly suffered, who were tormented and in pain, were the others—not me.”
I could not sympathize. I was not allowed to struggle. For the sake of those who had died because of my mistake… I was not even permitted to grieve.
“You…”
Bishop Silvestina looked as though she wanted to say more, but I turned away. No words of comfort would help me.
“I will return. To the battlefield. I will continue doing what must be done.”
“…To treat the wounded soldiers again? Even after that?”
Bishop Silvestina asked in disbelief. My words must have sounded insane. After experiencing such horror, anyone normal would never choose to return.
“No one says anything. After going through something like that. You could simply receive formal ordination as a priest and…”
But there was no other path.
“I…”
Looking at Bishop Silvestina as she tried to persuade me, I spoke honestly.
“I… don’t think I could forgive myself if I ran away now.”
If I fled like this, I would never be able to forgive myself. I felt I would break completely. That was why, with such selfish reasons, I wished to return to that hellish battlefield once more.
Bishop Silvestina froze at my words. Then, with a sad smile, she nodded.
“If that is what you want… then go back. To the place where you belong.”
The place where I belonged. Those words brought a strange comfort. Yes, having killed them, I had no right to run. I had to face it. The sins I had committed. The battlefield I had abandoned. And so I returned to the front lines.
Of course I was afraid. I knew such a thing could happen again. I knew there were those who repaid kindness with malice. Reaching out to them once more terrified me. But still… I would continue to extend my hand. Even if I regretted it. Even if I suffered for it. Even if malice tried to swallow me whole. Because I knew that was what a priest—a servant of God—must do.