By the Oath Engraved on the Gold Coin (1)
It had been five days since she left the city where she had lived her whole life, bound by the oath engraved on that gold coin. Sara had been heading relentlessly westward, spending most of her days in the carriage. Which meant she had been sitting face-to-face with Lenoir the entire time.
"Stealing glances at me again, little Sara. If you have something to say, speak it."
"N-no, not really…."
She pretended otherwise, but her heart thumped wildly all the same. It wasn't painful—more like a pleasant thrill. She couldn't quite fathom why just looking at him did this to her every time. It was strangely exhilarating, worrying if her hair was messy or not.
Putting that aside, let's focus on the journey itself.
What a letdown. I thought something amazing would happen….
Stuck inside the carriage, it was even more boring than the back alleys. Surprisingly, Sara's first impression of the trip was boredom.
Of course, not every moment dragged like that.
"Then, little Sara, you've rested enough. Shall we resume our studies?"
"Eek, again?"
She groaned in protest, and Lenoir's brow furrowed.
"Again? If I gathered all the sighs your shallow knowledge has drawn from me, they would fill a lake by now. You are to become the head of a church one day. How can you know so little?"
"B-but we've been studying all day today too…!"
"Learning is inherently accompanied by toil. What comes without effort fades all too easily. In that sense, feeling pain in your studies means that knowledge is taking firm root in you."
She couldn't argue with that. It was her own choice to build a religion, after all. She often whined in front of him, but given her rough upbringing, Sara had a strong sense of responsibility for her words and actions, far beyond her years.
"…O-okay, just a little more."
Did he admire her resolve? Lenoir stared at her intently before speaking.
"We'll stop the memorization at the usual point. Would you hear of the kingdom's founding history?"
"Whoa! Yes!"
"Very well. Let us begin with how the first king was a woodcutter from the mountains."
Sara's eyes sparkled. Of all their lessons, this was the one that never bored her.
Spending days glued to his side had revealed something: Lenoir was astonishingly erudite. He answered any question without hesitation and wove related knowledge into captivating tales. Listening to him chased away the tedium of travel in an instant.
One day, curiosity got the better of her. How could anyone know so much?
His answer: time and experience.
That only made her more curious about this companion who drew her gaze endlessly. After one story ended, she asked.
"My lord, how old are you, exactly?"
"Does it matter?"
"Just curious."
Lenoir studied her face for a moment before replying.
"It has been ages since I ceased counting. Longer than the rise and fall of nations."
"Can a person live that long?"
"I am no human."
"Th-then, a dragon?"
"To compare me with such greedy vermin displeases me greatly."
"But dragons are the longest-lived creatures. …Selbes sister said so."
"By mortal standards, that holds true. But I am not."
Lenoir declared,
"I am a demigod. An agent of balance, crafted directly by my creators and sent to this land."
Sara tilted her head. Tales of demigods and creation were relics of a bygone era, surviving only in oral myths. Only long-lived races from the mythic age remembered them, or scholars who delved into ancient lore, or those studying to forge spirits into gods.
"What's a demigod?"
"No need to know. It is not a vital concept for you. Besides, you may never encounter any demigod but me."
She was still puzzling it over when—thwack! Lenoir snapped the book shut.
"We have arrived."
"Huh? Where?"
"Our destination. No more boredom in the carriage."
Sara's eyes went wide. She peered out the window. A gasp escaped her.
"Whoa…!"
Her world had been so small that new sights stole her attention effortlessly. Towering walls, countless spires beyond, endless lines at the checkpoints. Never had she seen so many people or such a grand city.
"Wisbilt. The capital of this kingdom."
Sara's cheeks flushed bright red.
Lenoir gazed down the avenue beyond Wisbilt's checkpoint. He reckoned inwardly how long it had been since his last visit.
Three digits in years, at least.
He had deliberately avoided great cities. Crowds of humans stirred unease in him. First, there were his golden eyes, infused with Immaculate Fate's authority, which saw sins unconfessed. Once a blessing for his mission, now they were merely exhausting. Why seek out the filthy hues of human desire?
That was reason one. Reason two was no less irksome—perhaps more so.
Spirits, indeed.
He beheld the massive flows at the city's seven cardinal points. Places called churches in this age, palaces housing spirits that had devoured faith. They force-fed lost beliefs into ethereal beings to mimic gods. He tolerated it because the era demanded it, but to Lenoir—a true legacy of creation—they were grotesque abominations.
His brow creased faintly. But only for a moment.
"My lord! They're selling skewers on the street! Not rotten meat!"
"Do you wish to eat?"
"Gasp! A-are you buying? No! Since we're here, I'll treat myself…!"
The girl, drawing stares, fumbled out her coin pouch and peered inside. It brimmed with silver coins he'd given her as lesson fees outside the back-alley gambling den. Steel resolve in her eyes, she tremblingly drew out one silver coin.
Lenoir sighed deeply at her merchant's instincts.
"You do not save money to spend it."
"N-no, it's for you, my lord…!"
"Enough. With a face like that, you lack conviction. I know it feeds your heart, like a squirrel hoarding acorns."
Yes, just like a squirrel preparing for winter. The tiny thing's chattering bustle, its bouncy path catching the eye, the joy of clutching those small round treasures—all matched her habits.
"Here, give this child one skewer."
"Eek! Won't you have one, my lord?"
"I require no sustenance. If not needed, I forgo it."
As Lenoir reached for payment, Sara thrust a silver coin into the vendor's hand first and snatched two skewers.
"Sniff! I said I'd buy, so I am! I don't want to be the kind of freeloader who just takes!"
Her face was anguished, as if coughing up blood. To Lenoir, her cheeks seemed thinner by one silver coin already. Yet her thoughtfulness pleased him greatly.
"True benevolence lies in giving what you truly cherish, little Sara. You have done so without instruction. Well done."
He took the skewer and stroked her hair with his free hand. Sara's gloom vanished instantly. Like a small animal, her eyes widened, cheeks blushing.
"…You pet my head if I spend silver?"
"Not for that reason alone, but I know how much it means to you. If you give such things gladly to others in need, I shall think you most admirable."
Sara's eyes sparkled. She clutched her skewer uneaten, mumbling to herself.
"Spend money, get pets… Spend money, get pets…."
No doubt her biased little mind was forging irrational causality from common sense.
"…Yeah, gotta earn more money."
Resolution lit her face. Lenoir sighed heavily. A etiquette tutor suddenly seemed more urgent than ever.
Sara could scarcely keep her eyes still. Everything was so new and wondrous. The skewer was delicious, the streets brimmed with lively energy. Best of all was the closeness to Lenoir. "Stay close or you'll get lost in the crowd," he'd warned, so she clung tightly to his sleeve. If city life meant walking like this, she'd live in one forever. That's how it felt.
And one more thought branched out.
Gotta save lots of money. Yeah!
She knew Lenoir approved when she gave to others. It hurt to watch her hoard dwindle, but the head-pat reward sent tingles from scalp to toes. If that's the payoff for spending, she'd do it… maybe once a week.
That's why the old men splurged gold on the sisters!
The clearest analogy from her back-alley wisdom. Grinning with her new revelation, she strolled the avenue hand-in-skewer until—
She snapped to attention.
"Here. We shall receive funds from this guild to establish the church."
"Wh-what!?"
Her mouth gaped.
"The Pterin Guild…!?"
Even Sara knew it—a colossal merchant house. No one on the continent could be unaware. The greatest guild, shaping the continent for centuries.
She'd thought they were just borrowing money. Never dreamed it would be from this guild.
"Come along."
"W-wait, my lord!"
Sara blurted,
"Pterin helps slums and all that across the continent! They're incredibly generous, but strict too—even infamous in our alleys!"
She trusted street gossip more than Lenoir's noble air. He seemed so refined; he might not know the underbelly rumors.
"We can't just barge in! Especially the branch building—security's insane! Only guild members and associates allowed… Eek, my lord!?"
Lenoir strode to the gate without waiting. Sara scrambled after him, legs wobbling in panic.
Moments later, he showed something. The guards startled, shouting in unison.
"We behold the benefactor's house!"
Sara blinked blankly. None of it made sense. She asked,
"What?"
Lenoir replied nonchalantly,
"I founded this guild."
It took Sara several minutes to process those words.