What Does That Have to Do with Anything?
It happened as Nahan, still shielding Hestia, was lowering her gently to the floor.
A green the color of living wood gathered at his side and drew itself up into the shape of an enormous man. The instant the figure manifested, it closed the distance in great strides, bent that massive frame toward Nahan, and demanded an answer.
"Who is the senior warrior?"
"Pardon?"
"I asked who the senior warrior is!!"
A voice like a thunderclap, exactly as expected. Of all the people there, only Nahan and the unconscious Hestia so much as creased a brow.
Not that the newcomer cared. Balak Gardner, progenitor of the Gardner line, roared again, fury packed into every syllable.
"Eternal sleep or not, however much time has passed, what business does some brat with the blood still wet on his skull have interfering in a fight between warriors!!"
Only then did it click.
Ah. This crazy old bastard. He's pissed I interrupted his duel with Asha.
And in the same breath as the realization, Nahan asked a question of his own.
"So what can you actually do?"
"......What did you say?"
"If I interfere, or if I drag you out of her body—what can you do about it?"
This mess had taught him something. Every scrap of power in the Heavenly Shield came from Balak Gardner. The moment Balak slipped out of the engraved sigil, the artifact had gone dead, and now that Nahan had pulled him free of Hestia, the strength had come flooding back. Leaving might be Balak's choice. Being hauled back was not. Nahan could seize him whenever he liked.
Granted, even that came with the condition of direct contact—
Not that this guy knows that yet.
As if he had read the thought, Balak's brow crumpled.
"This was a duel between warriors!! It was never something the likes of you had any right to meddle in!!"
"Duel, my ass. What were you going to do if she died because of you? And if you're that desperate for a fight, have it in your own body."
"You stupid fool!! Do I look alive to those eyes of yours!!"
"......Stupid?"
Hearing that from Balak Gardner, founder of the thick-skulled house, soured his mood several dozen times over. So Nahan tossed aside the last scrap of courtesy he had been bothering to carry and asked again.
"So. What can you do?"
"Ha!! Anything, obviously!! Fighting, sparring, fighting, I tell you!!"
"I wasn't going to let you."
"What?"
Nahan looked from Hestia to Balak Gardner and let out a short, scoffing laugh.
"You designated her as your Incarnation Vessel."
"......Fruit punch? What's with the fruit all of a sudden?"
Incarnation Vessel, you absolute moron.
At any rate, he had spent the climb gathering odds and ends through the System, and the conclusion was simple.
"Balak. From here on, you can't descend on anyone but me and her."
"...What?"
For the benefit of a Balak who plainly wasn't following, Nahan laid it out a little.
An Incarnation Vessel was a proxy chosen by a goddess, a high spirit, or a soul like Balak, able to wield power close to the original's once selected. As a rule, the descent came when the vessel asked and the incarnation agreed. Balak, though, was a bonus that had come bundled with the Heavenly Shield. And since that Heavenly Shield was now bound to Nahan, Balak sat under his control as well.
Put simply—
"You're my property."
"You honorless piece of garbage!!"
The words had barely left him before Balak's soul hurled itself at Nahan. Spirit though he was, the pressure pouring off him was worthy of Radiance itself.
The soul bound to you — Balak Gardner (SS+) — is attempting an attack.
Suppress him?
[ ACCEPT ] / [ REFUSE ]
Just as the information from the climb had promised, the System stepped forward and offered to put him down. A heartbeat before pressing anything, Nahan rested a single finger over Accept and made the old spirit an offer.
"Old man. Listen to me properly, and within a few years I'll release you from the binding."
"Kill you and I'm free anyway!!!"
"Suit yourself."
A light tap of the finger. A thin, unpleasant smile on Nahan's face. Balak, still charging in his rage, noticed both a moment too late.
Suppression engaged.
Bestowing a tailor-made terror upon the Incarnation — Balak Gardner (SS+).
Thud.
Crimson warning-text flared, and in the same instant a single book dropped in front of his eyes.
"That's—!!"
He spun at once to flee, only to find himself caught by something he couldn't see—Balak, casting Invisible Chair on his own soul. The book settled neatly at eye level.
Flutter.
A page turned itself, and a pen was pressed into his hand.
"N-numbers......"
"Numbers?"
Nahan stole a sidelong glance. Addition and subtraction, packed tight from margin to margin. It looked exactly like an elementary-school workbook.
This is tailor-made terror? Forcing him into a chair and making him do math?
The doubt had barely risen before Balak answered it for him.
"Damn it, fine! I accept your proposal! You hear me? I'll help you for years if that's what it takes, so get this cursed book away from me this instant! Hey. Hey, you!! Can't you hear me!!!?"
He was thrashing as if he'd met a ghost. Nahan, watching, was persuaded.
"Please!! I won't threaten you ever again!! R-right!! I'll even teach you every secret art I know!!"
He begged like a grade-schooler being dragged off by the ear. Nahan shook his head anyway.
"You can't solve them."
"...Huh?"
"I said you can't. Looks like you have to finish the whole book yourself before the binding lets go."
Honestly, he suspected he could have freed the man on the spot.
And why would I?
The spirit was loud and already on his nerves. This seemed like the perfect moment to hammer the chain of command into place.
"I'll say this once, for your reference. Attack me, or disobey, and it triggers on its own."
"......I'll remember."
Balak bent over the problems, and with that the order between them was settled. Only then did Nahan look down at Hestia, asleep against him, and let out a sigh.
"What am I supposed to do with any of this."
Balak's descent. Hestia's rampage. And himself, the one who had put a stop to both.
I already told Asha, flat and final, that my authority—Ian Red's authority—is looking at an object and reading whether its owner lives or dies.
An authority that took root in a priest was one to a body. Now and then someone bloomed a second, even a third, and it wasn't as if such people didn't exist at all.
People like that don't become free priests. ......No. They can't.
The Church would never let go of anyone who held the Goddess's particular favor.
......So that's the only road through, is it.
He had become a free priest for fear that a paltry gift would bring shame on the Church—and afterward, that same free priest had awakened a new authority. The new authority was—
Communing with souls? Handling souls? I don't know. We'll call it soul-something and leave it there.
Say it had only been a few days since the awakening and that he still didn't understand it, and they would let it slide.
The further this goes, the more the cover story sprouts extra parts. Nothing else for it.
He was waiting on that thought, hoping someone would come up, when the ground cracked with a sharp report and something launched itself toward them.
It arrived in the same instant.
A figure who had long since left mere humanity behind, who had become something approaching the wondrous—Asha Mirabell. She had gotten here well ahead of the people who had set out before her, and she asked, carefully.
"Why?"
The sudden courtesy, the cautious bearing—Nahan found himself answering with a question before he meant to.
"Why, what?"
"I treated you so coldly, Priest, and yet this time as well, you..."
"The Hero?"
"M-me......"
A face gone faintly red, hesitation clinging to every word—the very opposite of the woman who was supposed to be ice.
"Me...!"
Asha had faltered for a long while and was finally about to say something when another voice cut across her.
"Nnngh...... What happened......"
Hestia, laid in Nahan's arms, blinked her eyes open.
"One moment. May we speak later?"
"...Yes."
Once Asha had agreed, Nahan carefully helped Hestia sit up.
"Are you all right?"
"......Ah? Priest Ian Red? What in the world is going on?"
He gave her a brief account of everything that had happened while she was unconscious. First, the attack by Eclipse, told as if he had only been a third party watching. Hestia thought for a moment, then asked quietly.
"Was it the Black Wolf?"
"I can't say for certain, but probably not. The Family Head captured several of them, so we'll have an answer after the interrogation."
"Ah......"
Whatever the reason, her disappointment was obvious. Nahan paid it no mind and went on to what had come after: someone, he couldn't say who, had taken root in the young lady's body and then vanished.
"What did they look like?"
"Hmm......"
He made a show of thinking, flicked a glance at Balak, and slowly described the man. Hair swept out like a lion's mane. Brown eyes. An old warrior vast as an ancient tree.
"......It can't be."
She murmured as if something had dawned, and her face brightened—but only that far. Others besides Asha and Hestia came rushing in.
"Hestia!!"
"Priest. What is the meaning of this?"
Balkan, scrambling toward them in a panic; Family Head Tehelan, still perfectly composed; Rohan; and a handful of warriors besides. Nahan laid the whole of it out for Tehelan just as he had for Hestia.
"In any case, all I did was use a second authority I gained after the last incident, and stabilize the soul that had taken root in the young lady."
"Might I ask what that soul looked like?"
"Ah, well......"
He described it once more. Tehelan strode over, caught Hestia's left arm, and shoved the sleeve up.
"Ah...!"
Flustered, Hestia flushed and kept stealing glances at Nahan. Tehelan, finding a sigil in which trees and a shield were woven together, let out a quiet breath of awe.
"The progenitor came."
"......So it was true. Could she have been chosen as an Incarnation Vessel?"
"We'll know if we go and check. If she has...... The matter is grave. Let us put things in order first, and talk after."
"Yes, Family Head."
With that murmur, Tehelan turned where he stood and bowed his head to Nahan and Asha.
"Thank you."
Not a single ornamental phrase. One grave, upright sentence, worthy of the head of House Gardner. Asha received it with a nod. Nahan received it with a smile.
Tehelan did not lift his head.
"Er, Family Head......?"
Only after a flustered Nahan went so far as to reach out a hand did the man speak again.
"I am sorry to ask, but might we impose on you once more?"
"Impose?"
"Would you hear the details in my office?"
That alone was enough to tell him the matter was heavy. Nahan nodded.
Not even a day has passed. The Black Wolf shouldn't be running wild.
When he accepted, Asha and Balkan looked at each other.
"And Marin?"
"Ah! Now that you mention it, she said that man caught her interest, and that she'd come have a look!"
"...That's unusual."
"Isn't it! Marin, taking a liking to someone she's never even met!"
Marin, the Great Sage—as brilliant as she was lazy, the mage of the hero party who trusted people poorly. And yet.
The reward for the subquest I, Too, Am a Hero had not, it seemed, been a lie.
The words were hardly finished before a blue-haired woman drifted lightly down, chewing on a cookie. She swept a look around the gathering and pointed straight at Nahan.
"You, then? The free priest."
"Free Priest Ian Red."
"Mm. I'm Marin."
Tip-tap. Tip-tap. Tip-tap.
Marin came over in small quick steps, held out the cookie she had been eating, and asked him a question.
"Want some?"
"......Thank you."
The cookie was damp around the bite. Asha and Hestia stared without blinking. Nahan quietly looked elsewhere.
In any case, the moment Marin joined them they followed Tehelan to his office. Before so much as a simple tray of refreshments could appear, he showed them an empty vault and spoke.
"The Heavenly Shield is gone."
"What!?"
"...?"
I'm sorry.
But I can't give it back, either.
Using an enhancement ticket is the lesser problem. The thing became a bound item.
Nahan apologized on the inside and was vowing that he would return it someday when Marin—who had, at some point, taken a firm hold of his arm—scrunched her brow and muttered.
"Ugh. War is such a pain."
"Pardon? War?"
"The Heavenly Shield's gone. There'll be a war before long. Obviously."
No—hold on.
What does that have to do with anything?