By Necessity, Part 2
This fellow treats the Kairos Kingdom like his own backyard. No matter how vast his jurisdiction and how relatively free the leader of the Heretic Inquisitors was supposed to be, this felt a bit too free. I folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope.
I gazed out the open window at the sprawling view of the Royal Capital. The scent of freshly baked bread drifted up from the morning streets. Beside me, Marianne was quietly pouring coffee. Though I had grown used to living with her, I wondered if it was time to find her a place of her own. It had to be uncomfortable for her to keep sharing a space with someone else.
"Is it uncomfortable for you, staying here?"
Marianne paused mid-pour and looked up at me. Her rosary, catching the morning sunlight, swayed gently. She stared at me with those golden eyes of hers for a moment before shaking her head.
"It is not uncomfortable."
"Do you need anything else? This place is spacious, but it's not very practical. I'm sure it's lacking in many ways."
"The Holy Kingdom provides more than enough financial support."
Marianne replied with a tone slightly firmer than usual. I couldn't tell if I had simply grown familiar enough with her to notice these subtle shifts, or if her personality was gradually changing, allowing her to express more emotion as we spent time together. She handed me the coffee cup and took a seat across from me.
"There is absolutely nothing uncomfortable."
"...If you say so, then I'm glad."
I couldn't tell if she truly found nothing inconvenient or if she was harboring some other grievance. It seemed I still had a lot to learn about her. Clearing my throat to transition to the main point, I spoke up.
"Should I look into getting you a separate house? As long as you're part of our party, you'll have to stay in the Royal Capital."
Upon hearing my question, Marianne lowered her gaze, looking down at the rosary resting against her chest.
"Does my presence in this house trouble you, Hero?"
...That was a difficult question to answer. Rather than making clumsy excuses, I simply shook my head.
"Far from being a trouble, you've been nothing but a massive help."
"Then I have no reason to leave."
Marianne looked back into my eyes as she gave her answer. Having settled the matter, she took a sip of her coffee with her usual poised demeanor. The atmosphere had grown somewhat delicate. To change the subject, I pulled Bishop Andre's letter toward me, fidgeting with it as I spoke.
"By the way, I wonder why Bishop Andre wants to meet again."
Isis's departure from our party had been resolved smoothly, and there shouldn't be any other pressing matters. Given that he asked to meet both of us, perhaps he wanted to see me while checking in on her.
"Perhaps..."
Marianne looked at me, a troubled expression crossing her face. To be precise, she wasn't looking at my face, but slightly above it—at my head. My head? What did my head have to do with Bishop Andre? A fact I had temporarily forgotten flashed through my mind.
"Ah, the Crown of Thorns..."
"Yes. I believe the holy relic is likely one of the reasons the Bishop is traveling here."
I let out a heavy sigh and stuffed a piece of buttered toast into my mouth. The bread crunched crisply between my teeth. Chewing slowly, I recalled the shattered **Crown of Thorns**. The fragments, which had reverted to mere thorny vines, were currently resting safely inside the wooden box they had originally arrived in.
"I suppose it's only right to return even the fragments."
Marianne nodded at my words. I had no idea how the Bishop would react. He wasn't the type of simpleton to fly into a rage just because the crown had broken, but the Crown of Thorns had been a loan, not a gift.
"It is a relic of immense historical value, beyond its inherent power."
And I went and shattered a relic of such immense historical value. I scratched my head, feeling a wave of complicated emotions.
"He probably has business with you too, which is why he wants us to meet together, right?"
"Yes. Though I cannot guess what exactly it might be."
She likely assumed it was related to her duties as an Inquisitor. Marianne was a holy knight, but she was also a member of the Heretic Inquisitors. For the first time in a while, I searched my memories of the original novel, recalling incidents related to the Holy Church.
"Well, we'll find out when we meet him."
I wrapped up the conversation and began clearing the table. Dwelling on it now wouldn't yield any answers, and it wasn't as if Bishop Andre was plotting to harm Marianne or me. As I placed the plates in the sink and turned on the tap, I felt Marianne's gaze on me and turned around.
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
"...It is nothing."
Marianne shook her head gently. I stared blankly at her silver hair, which shimmered in the morning light. And so, the late summer morning drifted by.
When I met Bishop Andre again after all this time, he wore the exact same gentle smile as before. Apparently impervious to the heat, he was dressed in a long-sleeved black cassock despite the late summer weather.
"It has been a long time, Hero."
Greeting me warmly, the Bishop stepped forward and firmly grasped my hand. Startled by a grip that was far stronger than his appearance suggested, I took a hesitant step back.
"My heartiest congratulations on defeating the Fourth Calamity. No, rather..."
Pulled forward by his strength, I was practically forced into a vigorous handshake. Through the narrow slits of his eyes, a faint gray light gleamed. It was a rather intense gaze.
"Thank you so very much for vanquishing the Fourth Calamity."
"...Think nothing of it."
Releasing my hand, the Bishop instantly reverted to his usual composed self. He clasped his hands together and turned to Marianne. When their eyes met, Marianne gave a polite nod. The Bishop greeted her with a warm, gentle smile.
"Marianne, you did a magnificent job assisting the Hero in striking down the Fourth Calamity. I am truly proud of you."
"You flatter me."
Bishop Andre looked at us with a pleased smile, then gestured with his head and began to walk. I didn't need to ask where we were going. After all, who in their right mind would refuse a free meal?
After ordering the same chickpea salad he had eaten last time, the Bishop lightly clapped his hands together and rested them on the table.
"I heard the injuries you sustained while defeating the Fourth Calamity were quite severe. Are you recovering well?"
"It's going smoothly. I can manage light training now without any issues."
Bishop Andre's narrow eyes scanned me. Then, he let out a soft hum.
"The injuries must have been grave indeed. Even now, I can faintly sense the lingering aftereffects."
"It was a small price to pay for preventing the end of the world."
Besides, I'm just glad I can recover at all, I thought, offering a bitter smile.
"A small price, indeed. Perhaps you are right."
The food arrived. The Bishop looked down at his salad plate with a pleased expression.
"Since the Fifth Calamity has not yet been observed, it would be wise to prepare at a measured pace this time. There are other matters to resolve in the meantime... though I am sure you will handle everything perfectly, Hero."
"...No, please, tell me more. I would like to hear your thoughts on the Calamities."
It was always better to gather as many perspectives as possible. Bishop Andre stared at me for a moment before speaking in a low, solemn voice.
"The **Seven Calamities** that will bring about the end of the world... they were contingencies prepared by the **Evil Gods** during the mythical era. Should they be defeated by the Light, the Seven Calamities would awaken to finish what they started—to destroy the world."
The Bishop idly stroked the tip of his butter knife.
"With the end of the mythical era, those divine contingencies began to awaken one by one to carry out their duties. We, the surviving humans, must face these disasters using the relics left behind from that era. In truth, our current age is merely an extension of the mythical era."
The **Serpent**, the **Locust**, the **Kraken**, the **Giant**, the **Mist**, the **Meteor**, and the **Source**.
"I believe you are already well-acquainted with the Serpent, the Locust, the Kraken, and the Giant. Their names alone make their true natures quite clear."
The Serpent was a snake so colossal it could coil around the entire world. The Locust was a swarm massive enough to blot out the sky and devour every crop in existence. The Kraken was a monster destined to banish humanity from the seas forever alongside its aquatic beasts. The Giant was a pilgrim meant to freeze the entire world and trample the frozen earth flat.
"Starting with the Fifth Calamity, the 'Mist,' the concept of the disaster shifts from a living entity to a phenomenon. This makes it far more difficult to observe. We can only rely on magic to faintly predict how they move, where they are, and when they will strike."
Magic towers across the world were likely sharing data to track its traces. According to the original novel, the Holy Kingdom had also established its own task force to track the Calamities, meaning they were probably cooperating with other nations.
"Perhaps the Fifth Calamity will not even appear in our lifetime—in your lifetime, Hero. Though wishing for that would be incredibly irresponsible to the generations that follow us."
No, that wouldn't happen. I shook my head firmly. According to the original novel, the Mist would suddenly manifest at the borders of the Holy Kingdom in winter, right around Christmas.
"We must not take the Calamities so lightly."
My voice sounded much stiffer than I had intended. Bishop Andre looked up at me, seemingly taken aback by my tone.
"It wouldn't be strange for a Calamity to appear anywhere, at any time. They do not accommodate human convenience. For all we know, a mist could roll out of the forests just outside the Royal Capital this very moment. Or..."
Bishop Andre opened his mouth to reply, as if to say he was well aware, but upon seeing my expression, he fell silent. He raised an eyebrow, signaling for me to continue.
"...It wouldn't be strange if it suddenly appeared on a winter day in the Holy Kingdom, either."
Bishop Andre's expression hardened. He set down his fork and clasped his hands.
"Do you know something?"
"...A little."
Bishop Andre asked while studying my face, and I parted my lips, carefully gauging his reaction in return. Fortunately, a perfect excuse to deflect the situation came to mind. I quickly pushed forward the wooden box containing the Crown of Thorns. Beside me, Marianne watched with a worried gaze.
The **Holy Sword** asked in a tone that suggested she was practically pulling up a chair to watch the show. I gave a microscopic nod. Meanwhile, the Bishop furrowed his brow, clearly confused as to why I was suddenly presenting this to him, and took the wooden box.
"Ah, yes. Thank you. Did you make good use of the Crown of Thorns we lent you? Since you successfully defeated the Fourth Calamity, I hope the Holy Kingdom's gift was of some help."
"Yes. In one way or another."
Calling it "making good use" is an understatement. I let my lips curl up slightly as I stared at the box. Bishop Andre watched my expression with deep suspicion before looking down at the wooden box. His hand hovered over the lid, tracing the seam with a hint of hesitation. He knit his brows.
"Does this mean you passed the trial of the crown? I wonder what could have happened for you to speak in such a way..."
*Click.* The Bishop flipped open the lid and froze instantly. Inside the box, resting upon a velvet red cloth, lay nothing but the shattered, hollow shell of the Crown of Thorns. The Bishop's narrow eyes flew wider than I had ever seen them, staring blankly at the contents as his entire body went rigid.
"What on earth... is this?"
He was utterly flabbergasted. Bishop Andre stammered as he picked up a fragment of the crown. The piece he lifted crumbled, breaking into three smaller pieces and losing what little shape it had left. With a voice thick with panic, the Bishop looked up and called my name.
"Hero, what is the meaning of th... is?"
And then, as his eyes locked onto the **halo** floating above my head, they widened so far they looked ready to pop out of his skull. His mouth, frozen open on the syllable "is," remained agape, letting out nothing but a faint, trembling gasp.
"Oh, heavens..."
The voice of Bishop Andre as he stared at me shook violently.