You, a Heretic? (2)
Deep into the night, the chirping of crickets filled the quiet air beneath a brilliant white moon hanging high overhead. Several shadows slipped silently out of the Holy City.
Glancing warily in every direction, they urged their horses along the main road, desperate not to be seen.
Kenis, Friga, Demonic, Ruel, and the heretic inquisitor appointed by the Pantheon. The five of them took advantage of the deep night to leave for the Empire, avoiding every prying eye.
Friga clearly hated sneaking out like thieves; she kept grumbling as she rode.
"Honestly, what do we even lack that we have to scurry around in the middle of the night like rats? Look at us. Anyone who sees us is going to think we're bandits."
She shook the deep hood of her robe. Beside her, a bitter smile tugged at Demonic's lips. She wasn't wrong—at best they looked like thieves or smugglers.
"What else can we do? The High Priest specifically asked us to head to the Empire first, and quietly."
"If we wanted to go quietly we could've just gone during the day. What is this nonsense?"
"Haha... that would've been hard because of me."
Kenis, riding behind them, gave an awkward laugh. It wasn't something she boasted about, but ever since the Hero Appointment Ceremony, her fame in the Holy City had skyrocketed to the point that people joked anyone who didn't recognize her face was a heretic.
If she so much as walked down a street without thinking, devotees would start trailing after her, chanting prayers. Some even pried up the bricks she had stepped on and carried them away.
"Look at the radiant beauty of this brick...!! The Hero herself stepped on it! From now on this is our family heirloom!!"
"Aaagh! Too late!! Hey, sell that to me!!"
"Don't you dare cut in! I'll pay more!!"
Her favorite restaurant had to put up a fence just to handle the crowds.
"Nobody touch it! This is the table the Hero sits at every day! Hands off!"
"Look at that! They've even made a new dish called 'The Hero's Lunch'—the exact menu she orders every day!!"
"What? Innkeeper!! Three 'Hero's Lunches' over here!!"
People had even started following her around and recording every single thing she did—her muttering, her yawns, everything. Once, while walking, Kenis had bumped her head on a shop sign.
"Ow! Ah, that hurts..."
"Write it all down! 'While patrolling the Holy City for the safety of its people, the Hero struck her head upon a shop sign.'"
"Ugh, that's so embarrassing—why write that down? Can't you leave it out?"
"Hmm, 'The Hero flushed with embarrassment and requested that the incident be omitted from the record...'"
"Kyaaaaah!!"
That was pretty mortifying at the time...
Kenis gazed into the distance, lost in the memory of her days in the Holy City. Behind her, Ruel—who had been clinging to Kenis's waist—looked up at her with curious eyes.
"What is it, Kenis? Why do you look so wistful?"
"Huh? It's nothing. Just thinking about some things that happened in the Holy City."
"Ahh—Kenis's popularity was really something. I honestly thought you were a famous circus performer instead of the Hero, you know?"
"Uh... thanks?"
Kenis managed an awkward little smile at Ruel's questionable compliment. At the head of the group, the heretic inquisitor finally spoke, voice low against the wind.
The voice that emerged from the mask covering the entire face was distorted and eerie, buzzing strangely.
"...There are people ahead."
Unlike the rest of the party, who had simply thrown black robes over their usual gear, the heretic inquisitor who had introduced himself as "Number Five" wore pitch-black armor from the start. The crow-patterned mask that hid the face and the armor black as night made the inquisitor look like someone clad in darkness itself. The thick armor and the bizarre voice made it impossible to tell whether Number Five was a man or a woman.
"Number Five is right. There are people far ahead. Hunters, perhaps? Best we avoid them for now."
Demonic, riding a little behind, confirmed the inquisitor's words. Squinting into the distance, the others could just make out faint, dot-like figures.
The party slipped into the forest for a moment to hide from the travelers.
Friga leaned close and whispered into the ear of the carefully silent Kenis.
"Kenis."
"Hyat! Your Grace, you startled me!"
"Ah, sorry. Just curious about something. That Number Five character—how come their eyes are sharper than your dad's? I only saw those people after they pointed them out."
"Uh... I'm not sure? Most heretic inquisitors mainly handle 're-education,' so their night vision usually isn't that good."
"What, you don't know either?"
"I don't know everything, Your Grace. If you're that curious, why don't you just ask them yourself?"
"No way. That pitch-black weirdo gives me the creeps. The armor, the mask, that weird voice—everything."
"...My apologies, Apostle Friga. This mask is something of a symbol for us inquisitors."
"Whoa—holy crap!"
Number Five had approached like a shadow and whispered right behind Friga. She leapt into the air like a cat that had just seen a cucumber.
"...We should move on. We still have a long way to go."
"Uh, uh?"
Leaving the dazed Friga behind, Number Five urged the party onward toward the Empire.
The sun and moon rose and set many times. Throughout those days, Emperor Caesar and his chancellor worked without a moment to spare. They sifted through every document, summarized them neatly, opened and closed thick ledgers, and sorted out countless streams of money.
That damned Stultus—if he was going to die, he could have at least died cleanly. What was that business about receiving divine punishment in the Holy City?
Because of him, a heretic inquisitor from the Holy City was now heading for the Empire. To avoid the fallout, they had to prove the Empire's innocence.
"Hah... this should be enough, right?"
"Without a doubt, Your Majesty. Any heretic inquisitor who sees these materials will be fully satisfied and place their trust in the Empire's faith."
Caesar and the chancellor looked with pride at the papers piled high across the desk. Countless documents written by hand, one by one, through nights without sleep. Dark circles under their eyes stood out clearly, proof of the hardship they had endured.
Yet their expressions were brighter than ever. With this, the Empire would escape the Holy City's censure.
Their efforts would not be in vain.
"You've worked hard, Chancellor. Truly. Get some proper rest now—I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I shall take my leave."
In the dark of night, both men headed for their own homes beneath the moonlight, faces full of quiet satisfaction.
...Though how long that satisfaction would last once the inquisitors learned that Stultus had been a demon worshipper—and about the Demon Plague—was another matter entirely.
The moon set, and the bright sun rose over the land. Caesar was furiously moving his fountain pen, catching up on the state affairs that had piled up. Minor matters were handled by the ministers, but the major ones all had to pass across Caesar's desk.
"This is driving me mad. Leave things alone for just a few days and look how they stack up."
The elegant fountain pen danced across the towering stacks of documents, leaving graceful strokes of handwriting. While Caesar was deep in his work, a soft tapping came at the door.
The light knock of a small child. A smile instantly filled Caesar's face.
"Hmm, enter!"
Creeeak—
The guards on either side of the door opened it, and a boy of about six came toddling in at a run. Sparkling golden hair, blue eyes.
Caesar's only son—Crown Prince Julius.
"Father! Do you have time today? You promised we'd go play at hunting!"
"Oh, Julius! I'm a little busy at the moment, but..."
Caesar glanced down at Julius. Moisture began to well up in those blue eyes until they looked ready to spill over.
Caesar chuckled and slipped his hands under Julius's arms, lifting him high into the air. What kind of father couldn't even make time to play with his own son?
The backlog can wait until later.
The towering pile of documents pressed heavily on his heart, but Caesar deliberately ignored it and lifted Julius even higher.
"All right. Let's go play at hunting. Nothing's that urgent—we'll play all day today."
"Yay—! You promise? All day today? Yay!"
Caesar spun the high-lifted Julius around and around. Looking at his son's bright, carefree smile, Caesar's own smile deepened.
That sudden plague that had spread so quickly among the people. How many had wasted away and died from a disease whose cause no one even knew? His only son had caught it too, and had been slowly dying.
If Stultus had not treated those stricken by the plague—if he had not treated his son...
Countless people would have died.
That was the pig's one and only achievement...
Even though he had cured so many of the sick, even though he had cured the sole crown prince—Stultus's arrogance had gone so far that it began to shake the Empire itself. That was why the Emperor had dug out the mold that was rotting the realm from within.
If only he'd been a little less arrogant and a little less stupid, he could have been useful.
Stultus's medical knowledge—the ability to take dying patients and restore them completely—had certainly been desirable. But the damage he did to the Empire far outweighed it.
"Father! I'll go get the horses ready first! You have to come out soon!"
Julius dashed out, overjoyed. Caesar watched his son's healthy, running back.
How helpless had he felt watching his son waste away? What good was being the Emperor who commanded an empire if he was still a powerless father who could do nothing about his own child's illness?
Caesar clenched his fist and made a vow.
I will never lose you again, Julius...
A father's heart that had nearly lost his son once was enough. Caesar walked steadily down the corridor, heading outside at an unhurried pace.
Dazzling sunlight fell upon him, as if illuminating the Empire's future with equal brightness.
"Hm?"
In the distance, a servant was running toward him in a panic. He was in such a hurry that he kept stumbling, falling, and scrambling back up again.
"Y-Your Majesty! Your Majesty!!"
Sweat pouring down his face, the servant dropped to his knees before Caesar. The man's eyes were wildly unsteady. Caesar instinctively knew that what he had been waiting for had finally arrived.
"F-from the Holy City!! The heretic inquisitor and the Apostles have arrived!! Th-they're waiting in the reception hall right now!"
The heretic inquisitor had come to the Empire.