In the Village of the One-Eyed
Knock, knock.
"Mmm... mm..."
Ena murmured softly, pulling the blanket all the way up over her face.
The private quarters of the Sword Order's Commander-in-Chief. The name conjured images of a majestic sanctuary fitting for the continent's strongest warrior, but in reality, it was closer to a hideout where she could escape her paperwork.
The window was small. Decorations were virtually nonexistent. A few maps and schedules were pinned to the wall, and in one corner, the black-sheathed Ilryun leaned quietly against the stone.
And right in the middle of the room, a mop of silver-white hair was half-buried beneath a mountain of blankets.
It was dawn. The sky was an ambiguous shade, neither blue nor bright. It was that liminal hour when the entire Sword Order headquarters hung somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. The clashing of wooden swords from the training grounds had not yet begun, the bustle of the cafeteria was still absent, and even footsteps in the corridors were rare.
Even the strong need sleep. At least, that was Ena's philosophy.
And today, she especially needed to sleep.
Yesterday alone had been a relentless deluge: royal documents pouring in, requests from the Magic Tower piling up, Arcel dropping by with a structural analysis of black magic to show off a new noose to tighten around the Church's neck, and a late-night session with Roen revising the funeral protocols for the fallen.
People needed rest. Humans required sleep.
Knock, knock.
The door rattled again. Ena burrowed slightly deeper into her blankets. She ignored it.
Knock, knock.
It rattled once more, the knocks lingering a bit longer this time. Ena muttered without even opening her eyes.
"Tell them I am not here..."
Silence fell outside the door.
"Commander-in-Chief."
It was Roen. Ena scowled.
Ah. Roen.
Roen never came to her in person unless it was truly urgent. He was the type of man who would send a written report even for an emergency on the Eastern Front. For him to show up at her door at dawn meant trouble.
"Mmm... Why do you wake me, Roen? I was in the middle of a dream where I was tearing down the Holy Church..."
Her voice was still muffled by the blankets. It was a genuinely petulant complaint. If she had slept just a little longer, she would have dreamed of shattering the cathedral walls, obliterating the Cardinal's office, and burning the joint royal announcement. It was going to be an incredibly productive dream.
Roen replied from the other side of the door, his voice perfectly calm.
"The Holy Emperor has been waiting since last night, even standing through the downpour."
A brief silence ensued.
"..."
Ena did not open her eyes. She could still pretend she hadn't heard. It was a dream. It was still a dream.
But Roen's next words shattered her denial.
"Since he was caught in the rain, I shall bring him inside as per your orders."
...
"...What?"
Her eyes snapped open. Silver-white hair spilled out from beneath the blankets.
The ceiling. The walls. The window. Her familiar room.
It wasn't a dream.
Ena sat up very slowly. A few stray locks of hair clung to her face. Her expression was completely blank—just for a second. A very brief second.
Then, her eyes narrowed.
"...Wait."
Ena slowly raised her head and stared at the door. Beyond it, Roen remained quiet.
"...Surely not."
An incredibly ominous feeling washed over her. The worst kind.
Roen, ever diligent, proceeded to confirm her worst fears.
"Since it was late, I offered him external lodging, but..."
Ena listened intently.
"...he refused."
Ena pressed a hand to her forehead.
"He is still standing outside."
Absolute silence. Ena sat frozen. She didn't say a word, nor did she move. It was too quiet. The corridor was silent, and Roen was quiet on the other side of the door. It felt as though the entire Sword Order headquarters had collectively held its breath.
Ena slowly dragged her hand down her face.
"...Ah."
It was a short gasp.
"Ah..."
Once more. And then—
"That crazy old man."
She meant it from the bottom of her heart.
Ena sat on the edge of her bed, utterly speechless for a long moment. What on earth was he playing at?
Ena brushed her hair back.
"How many hours has he been waiting?"
"To be precise," Roen said, glancing down at his wristwatch, "eleven hours and thirty-two minutes."
"..."
"And the count is still rising."
"..."
"It rained continuously from two to five in the morning."
Ena said nothing. More accurately, she couldn't.
Eleven hours...? That's enough time to beat a short video game.
"For the record, those appointed as Holy Emperor only have stronger holy power; their physical bodies are those of ordinary humans."
"Which means..."
"You left an elderly man standing in a torrential downpour."
"...Roen."
Bring me my clothes.
The Sword Order headquarters was colder than usual at dawn. Perhaps because the overnight rain had sapped the warmth from the stone floors, a faint dampness clung to the corridors. Beneath a sky where the sun had yet to fully rise, the black roofs of the headquarters gleamed dully, like the backs of wet beasts.
Ena stepped into the hallway, throwing her coat over her shoulders. Her sleep-muddled hair was slightly messier than usual, with a few silver-white strands clinging to her cheeks and the nape of her neck. Her eyes bore a faint trace of exhaustion, irritation, and the dazed look of someone struggling to process the report she had just received.
Yet, even in that state, the soldiers in the corridor immediately snapped to attention.
Ena, the Commander-in-Chief of the Sword Order. Even with a sleep-deprived face, the Commander-in-Chief was still the Commander-in-Chief.
The moment she took a step forward, the low whispers echoing in the corridor died down instantly. A scribe standing by the wall nearly dropped the stack of documents cradled in his arms, barely catching them in time.
Ena swept her gaze over them.
"Do you all have nothing to do?"
Her voice was incredibly low.
At those words, the soldiers in the corridor dispersed as if they had been waiting for the cue. Some headed toward the training grounds, others vanished toward the cafeteria, and the scribe bowed his head and walked away briskly, looking like a man who had suddenly remembered a matter of grave importance.
Roen followed quietly, a step behind Ena.
"Roen."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you wake me sooner?"
Roen answered without hesitation.
"As of two in the morning, his waiting was entirely of his own volition."
"And now?"
"Once he was caught in the morning rain, I deemed it a situation that required reporting to you."
"So you mean to say you only woke me after the old man stood in the rain for three hours."
"To be precise, I woke you after the rain subsided and signs of hypothermia were observed."
Ena stopped in her tracks. She slowly turned her head.
Roen's face was perfectly calm. That composure only made him more infuriating.
"...Roen. Are you blaming me right now?"
"I am merely stating the facts."
Ena stared at Roen for a moment, then resumed walking. Getting beaten over the head with logic by her adjutant first thing in the morning was exhausting.
The path leading to the external waiting room of the headquarters went past the main building and toward the front gates. Through the windows, the courtyard was visibly drenched from the overnight rain, the sand of the training grounds darkened by the moisture. Despite the early hour, a few soldiers were already warming up with wooden swords, carefully avoiding the puddles in the corners.
The moment they saw Ena passing by, they immediately bowed their heads.
"Commander-in-Chief," Roen called out softly.
Ena looked ahead.
The door to the external waiting room was in sight. Two Sword Order soldiers stood guard in front of it. They bowed as soon as they saw Ena, exchanging a brief glance before opening the door.
Their eyes held a very clear message: 'He's still here.'
Ena really didn't want to read into it.
The door opened, and a draft of damp air rushed out. Although the external waiting room was located inside the main building, its proximity to the front gates meant that the outside air frequently swept in. If someone had been sitting there drenched all night, the smell was bound to linger.
Wet cloth, cold stone, chilled rain, and the faint scent of holy water—all of these odors mingled in the air.
There were certainly chairs available. Black wooden chairs were lined up against the wall, and dry towels and hot tea had been prepared in front of them.
Yet, he had ignored all of it and remained standing.
His white pilgrimage robes were soaked through. Water still dripped from the edges of his sleeves, and the shoulders and back of his robes hung heavy with moisture. His shoes bore the crust of drying mud.
His hair was also drenched. The Holy Emperor's silver hair, which would have shone softly had it been dry, now clung coldly to his cheeks and neck. His face was pale, his lips bloodless, and the deep exhaustion of an all-nighter hung heavily around his eyes.
Even so, his gaze remained steady.
Ena lost her words for a moment as she looked into his eyes.
People sometimes expressed their guilt in bizarre ways. This was especially true for those who had occupied high positions for a long time. Kneeling, standing in the rain, fasting, depriving themselves of sleep. But such acts of penance never truly resolved anything. Ena knew this all too well.
Still, the fact that an elderly man had stood in a torrential downpour was a separate issue.
"..."
Ena stared at the Holy Emperor for a long while.
Upon seeing Ena, Sevritsio slowly bowed his head. A drop of water fell from the tip of his hair to the floor.
Drip.
The sound felt strangely loud.
"Commander-in-Chief Ena of the Sword Order."
Sevritsio's voice was raspy, the voice of someone who had swallowed cold air all night.
"I have committed an insolence."
Ena's eyes narrowed.
"Do you think 'insolence' is enough to cover this?"
"It is not," the Holy Emperor replied, his head still bowed.
Humans are not simple creatures. Even the man called the Holy Emperor was, in the end, just a human. Guilt, responsibility, political calculations, and faith must be clawing at each other inside his single body.
But that didn't make Ena feel any better.
"Holy Emperor Sevritsio," Ena said, addressing him by name for the first time.
Sevritsio raised his head. Ena's voice was low.
"Whether you stand in the rain, stay up all night, or fall to your knees, Adeline Lucretia will not return."
Sevritsio's eyes wavered slightly.
"I know."
"Then why did you do it?"
"I believed this was the only thing I could do."
"You are wrong."
Her response was immediate. Sevritsio could not find the words to reply.
Ena took a step closer. She could feel the chill radiating from his wet pilgrimage robes.
"What you can do is not standing in the rain." Her voice sank even lower. "It is handing over the records, turning over those responsible, and ensuring the Holy Church never defiles her name with its mouth again."
"I will do so."
"And." Ena looked down at his wet clothes. "Do not try to ease your guilt by harming your own body, old man."
Sevritsio's eyes widened slightly. Roen lowered his gaze by a fraction of an inch.
"It only..." Ena said coldly, "...leaves a foul taste in the mouths of those who have to watch."
Silence. A painfully long silence.
One of the attending priests gasped. The Holy Emperor slowly lowered his eyes. He didn't look like a scolded child.
Ena clicked her tongue inwardly. Why on earth was she babysitting this old man? Just yesterday, she had been tearing the Holy Church to shreds, and today, she was telling its supreme leader to watch out for a cold.
The world was strange. Truly bizarre.
"Roen."
"Yes."
"Bring dry clothes and warm water."
"They are already prepared."
As expected of Roen. Ena turned her head slightly. Roen gestured to the soldier standing by the door, and the soldier vanished outside as if he had been waiting for the signal.
"Sit."
Sevritsio hesitated. "Commander-in-Chief..."
"Sit."
This time, it was a command.
The Holy Emperor slowly sat down. His wet clothes made a squelching sound against the wooden chair. The sound felt pitiful. The pinnacle of the Holy Church was sitting in a wet robe in a Sword Order waiting room. A few days ago, such a sight would have been unimaginable.
Now, it felt entirely natural. That was how much the world had changed.
"Roen."
"Yes."
"The document."
Roen immediately handed over the investigation conditions. Holy Emperor Sevritsio received it with both hands.
While the Holy Emperor had been standing in the rain, there was no way his attending priests could have gone inside to rest. What a magnificent nuisance. Truly spectacular.
"You lot sit as well."
The priests raised their heads in unison.
"Pardon?"
"Do not make me say it twice."
They hurriedly scrambled to sit on the chairs against the wall. The two paladins, however, remained standing. Ena looked at them.
"You two."
The paladins' shoulders tensed.
"Put down your swords and sit."
"But we must guard His Holiness..."
Ena's gaze locked onto the speaker. The paladin choked on his words.
Ena spoke slowly.
"Do you truly believe your swords can protect the Holy Emperor here?"
The paladin turned pale.
"No, ma'am."
"Then sit."
"...Yes, ma'am."
The paladins placed their swords on the rack and sat down.
"Sevritsio."
"Yes."
"From this moment on, you are not the supreme leader of the Church, but the representative of an institution under investigation."
"I understand."
"The Sword Order will not treat you as a guest."
"I accept that."
"However." Ena paused for a brief moment. Sevritsio watched her quietly. "It would be troublesome if the subject of our investigation collapsed from illness and threw our schedule into disarray."
Roen's pen seemed to pause for a fraction of a second.
For the first time, a very faint smile appeared on Sevritsio's face. It was a smile so small it was barely visible on his exhausted face.
"I see. You are kind after all."
"I am not. Do not smile."
"My apologies."
"I am not worried about you."
"Yes."
"It is because of the investigation schedule."
"I shall take it as such."
Ena narrowed her eyes. She found this strangely displeasing.
Only then did Ena leave the waiting room. The door closed behind her, and Roen followed her into the corridor. Ena walked a few paces before stopping.
Then, she spoke in a very low voice.
"Roen."
"Yes."
"That old man."
"Yes."
"He is more troublesome than I thought."
"I agree."
Roen's reply was far too quick. Ena looked at him.
"You thought so too?"
"I have thought so since last night."
"Then why didn't you wake me?"
"I was contemplating the optimal moment to dump this troublesome existence onto you, Commander-in-Chief."
"..."
"I decided to hand him over once he stood in the rain long enough to become a hazard."
Ena stared at Roen for a long moment. Then, she spoke with absolute sincerity.
"Do you want to die?"
This bastard isn't sane either.