The Inquisitor's Sharp Eye
Inquisitor Abhor was in a foul mood.
The atmosphere of the world had turned strange, and he did not care for it one bit.
"Renew your citizenship?"
The method was the Saintess Order's Adult Ceremony.
What exactly did they mean to do with an Adult Ceremony?
The entire priestly order had been dissolved and folded under the Saintesses. Even the Inquisitors' affiliation had been transferred to the Saintess Order.
Only yesterday, the priest who had overseen him had stripped off his vestments and said:
"The Empire has gone mad, and the Saintesses have fallen. I would rather return to secular life. You should find a way out for yourself as well."
The Saintess who replaced him as his handler had said something entirely different.
"You already know, Abhor. How incompetent the priests were. How many filthy things they did behind closed doors. The Saintesses are going to open a new world, so I expect your full cooperation going forward."
That the priests had been incompetent was true enough. That they had taken bribes in exchange for blessings was also true. But once Abhor learned the true face of the "new world" the Saintesses meant to usher in, any lingering goodwill had evaporated.
That Adult Ceremony of theirs was an orgy. Even people who already held citizenship would have to pass through the bodies of Saintesses and priests before their rights could be renewed.
Inquisitor Abhor was speechless.
This was a world of apostasy.
The whole earth had fallen under the spell of heretical doctrine.
Who had done this?
Was something like this even possible just because someone wished it so?
Even the Demon King could not have managed it. An illusion of this scale appeared in no ancient text he had ever read. Unless, of course, the Succubus Queen of oral legend had returned from the dead.
But that was impossible.
How could the Succubus Queen, sealed in the bottomless Abyss and sleeping for a thousand years, crawl back out alive?
Abhor shook his head.
The world was thesis, antithesis, and synthesis.
Where there was a thesis, an antithesis would come; and where an antithesis had come, a synthesis would follow.
He would simply do what he had to do.
Abhor stopped walking and looked past the gate before him.
The residence of the last alchemist on the continent, the lord of the Marcus Territory.
Count Juin Marcus's mansion stood right before his eyes.
He had gathered information diligently. He had even pressed himself against the walls and searched for Magi.
The servants' mouths were far too tight for rumors to slip free, but Juin Marcus was clearly hiding something.
The girl he had brought back with him from the Demon Continent.
The demon girl said to have been made his bed-chamber slave.
That child's Magi was suspicious.
Like a knight's body sealed inside armor, an unbelievable Magi had been contained within a hard shell. He had clearly felt the pure concentrate of noble Magi, virgin Magi, pristine Magi, writhing inside that child's body.
Only for an instant.
Almost at the same moment, someone had sealed off the Magi's exposure.
It would have been Juin Marcus.
No one else in this territory could control Magi that powerful in the blink of an eye.
And he would know it, too.
That someone had clung to the walls and sniffed for Magi.
They knew each other now.
A battle was about to begin between the one who hid and the one who sought to uncover.
The victor would naturally be him.
Even if he died here, if he died having revealed the truth, he would not regret it in the slightest.
The gate opened.
Chief butler Percival bowed his head.
"The Inquisitor has arrived. You are most welcome."
"You welcome me even though I came unannounced, without so much as a letter?"
"There is no need for advance notice in the work of exposing heresy. You have come because something troubles you, so please enter. You must verify it for yourself."
He was coming out like this?
Most men would bar the front gate and buy time. Instead he threw it wide open and welcomed him?
"I hear you brought a demon slave back from the Demon Continent. May I meet her?"
"This way, if you please. She is in the lord's study."
"A bed-chamber slave, and yet she is always inside the mansion?"
"She was, but her status has changed. She will soon be meeting the people of the territory as well."
"…Her status has changed? To what?"
"She has been released from slavery and made a servant of House Marcus. At present she is selecting dishes for the menu."
"Dishes? What do you mean by that?"
"His Lordship has decided to open a restaurant for the child."
"……"
A restaurant for a demon girl?
Anyone would think it strange, and yet they were doing it without the slightest hesitation.
Whatever they were hiding, it was clearly no ordinary secret.
I will uncover it.
Even if the price is my life.
If I can drag out even a single truth from this mad world and die for it, that will have meaning enough.
"I present my respects to the Count. I am Inquisitor Abhor."
That is, if this was the same Juin Marcus whose reputation as a living saint was on everyone's lips.
The study door opened and the Inquisitor came in.
He was a man with thin brows and a sharp gaze. Even his voice rang like glass striking glass.
"The citizens' trust in you grows hotter by the day. Is there another lord in the Empire so beloved?"
"A good thing, I would say."
The Inquisitor's eyes raked over my face.
"You have cut taxes by half, and you do not even exercise the right of the first night over the territory's maidens. Citizens of other territories are so envious they can barely breathe. If they could, they would flee their homes and enter the Marcus Territory."
"If I could take them in, I would."
"God's creations possess desire. There are no exceptions. Humans are born and live to realize their desires. I have been wondering: what, then, is our lord's desire?"
"Would you care to enlighten me?"
"Not money, not women, and you do not seem particularly greedy for power either. And yet that same lord returned from the Demon Continent and took a bed-chamber slave into his household?"
An Inquisitor taking an interest in a demon slave was common in any territory. Demons followed a different faith, after all.
Exposed to a demon's Magi, some nobles gradually grew weak of heart and slipped into the demons' religion.
"I did. She was a very beautiful child."
"And her age?"
"Seventeen. So I only held her while we slept."
"That is something one can verify by looking. But I hear you suddenly changed her status. Is there a reason? Or are you simply scheming to avoid the world's attention?"
His words were rough.
His eyes were tight with strain.
It was the face of a man who no longer wished to live.
Inquisitors belonged to the priestly order.
Overnight, that order had been dissolved and their affiliation shifted to the Saintess Order.
Who was the head Saintess of the Marcus Territory again?
The Inquisitor would have met her this morning.
"She turned out to have no talent whatsoever as a bed-chamber slave."
"Did you not just say you only held her while you slept?"
"I could not even manage that."
"You could not manage simply sleeping?"
"She snores."
"Ah…"
As if testing whether I was telling the truth, the Inquisitor peered into my eyes.
Then he pushed out his lower lip and nodded.
"Indeed. If the snoring is severe, it would interfere with a proper night's rest. Disqualified as a bed-chamber slave, then."
I was the one who snored.
Satin was the one who could not sleep.
Concealing the truth while leading someone into a misunderstanding was not a lie. Not to an Inquisitor, at least. He failed to see the truth hidden inside my words.
"May I meet her once? She has only recently come from the Demon Continent, so I am concerned."
"By all means. She is looking for books in the inner library and should be out shortly."
I lifted the teapot and offered him tea. The Inquisitor drank.
This could hardly be the mood he was in.
This morning, the values he had trusted all his life had collapsed. Sexual corruption was itself a subject of an Inquisitor's interrogation. And now he was expected to interrogate that very corruption in Saintesses and priests.
Satin came out, grunting under a stack of books.
"Satin, the Inquisitor is here."
"Ah? Just a moment. The books are too—"
The thick volumes were piled so high they reached her face; she could not see properly ahead of her.
I took the books from her and set them on the desk.
Satin let out a long hoooh of relief, then looked at the Inquisitor.
"Hello. My name is Satin. I am a servant of Count Juin Marcus."
She seemed pleased to have left slavery behind; she put particular force into the word "servant" and enunciated it carefully.
Curiosity bloomed across the Inquisitor's face.
"What an unusual face you have."
Satin turned to me in alarm.
"Master, am I ugly? Do I look strange?"
The flustered Inquisitor answered for me.
"That is not what I meant. You are simply far too different from an ordinary demon. For one thing, your skin is far too soft. You know as well as I do that a demon's hide is thicker than ox leather, and their hair as coarse and stiff as wire. Yet yours looks as soft as down."
"Inquisitor."
"Yes? My lord."
"This child is not a slave. She is a citizen of this territory, the same as you. I would appreciate it if you showed her proper courtesy."
"Has any demon ever been released from slave status—"
"And what do you mean to do with that knowledge? I freed her. That is all."
"I see. I have been discourteous."
The Inquisitor examined Satin again.
Satin, eyes sparkling, met his gaze head-on.
One trying to read Magi, and a child trying to hide it.
A quiet contest of wills stretched taut between them.
I tapped the Inquisitor lightly on the shoulder.
"Strange no matter how you look at her, isn't she?"
"Exactly so."
"This child is not actually a demon."
"I knew it! I thought as much. She does not look like a demon to begin with, and the scent of her Magi is odd as well. I suspect she may be a half-blood demon—elf blood mixed in, or something of that sort. If so, that is clear apostasy. Half-blood demons are an untouchable race. You must never draw close to—"
"Dragon."
"Pardon?"
"I have already disclosed the truth to the Imperial Court. This child is the child of a dragon."
The Inquisitor's mouth fell open.