The Saintess Knight Order
Just as Rain had said, they were clad in the armor of the Saintess Knight Order.
"This can't be. The Saintess Knight Order...?"
For an instant, Evelyn looked at Rain.
The Church oversaw everything that touched on demonkind, so it was hardly strange that they would have their own methods for hunting down a demon on the run. But was the escape of a single demon child truly a matter that called for mobilizing something like the Saintess Knight Order?
The Saintess Knight Order—the very ones who had annihilated the Elysia family, and who carried out such work with an effectiveness that knew not the slightest mercy. They did not hesitate to eradicate evil, and when the need arose they were a hardline order willing to accept a measure of sacrifice. The affairs they stepped into were only those where the rot ran too deep for the Church's ordinary priests to handle, or where interests too tangled to touch lightly were bound up in the matter.
The flight of one little demon was no reason for a movement on this scale.
And yet...
Rain was someone who knew every shadowed corner of the Church. If a runaway Rain laid the Church's shame bare before the world, it was all too likely to be that grave a matter for them. The legitimacy of the power they now enjoyed—power on a level with royal authority itself—flowed entirely from the great cause of pursuing good.
Did that mean everything Rain had said was true after all...?
But the appearance of the Saintess Knight Order was not Rain's problem alone.
"What do we do? The Saintess Knight Order, of all things..."
From the moment the name reached her ears, Ira too was beside herself.
Of course she was. Ira was the very outcome the Elysia family had tried to produce, and the cause of the family's destruction. Those old circumstances, however, had nothing to do with the Ira of the present.
Would they care?
To the Church, the undead were evil—wicked things who refused the sacred destiny of returning into God's embrace and dragged out a sordid life through curses and sorcery. And yet Ira was nothing of the kind. It was the elders of the house who, out of greed, had pulled her back from eternal rest; she herself had been nothing more than a pitiful flower, cast aside without ever knowing why.
Of course, the Saintess Knight Order riding this way now would not be the same people as back then. That incident lay twenty years in the past. But so long as the order's name endured, its nature had likely been handed down with it. And now, with the Church's influence grown even stronger than before in the wake of the Demon King's subjugation, Ira could hardly be called safe from them either.
Evelyn ground her teeth until they creaked. In the end, there was no staying out of this.
"I'll try to turn them back. You two run while I do."
"...Evelyn?"
"Hurry! There's no time!"
"O-okay! I understand...!"
Evelyn had told us to run, but in truth we never managed to get very far—because of the shackles on Rain.
Tch. Sure, I clapped them on her so she couldn't bolt, but what am I supposed to do when they get in the way at a time like this?!
"Ow, wait...! That hurts!"
"Ugh, why won't this thing come off..."
Maybe the lock had seized up with age. No matter how I worked the key, it refused to open at all. I really am an idiot, assuming a lock more than twenty years old would still work perfectly. If I'd known it would be like this, I would have checked that it opened before I ever put them on. The mechanism was stiff to begin with, and with panic riding me there was no chance I would get it open cleanly.
Even so, I kept forcing the key around—and then...
Click.
"...!"
Something caught beneath my fingertips. Good. If I just put a little strength into it like this...!
Snap.
"..."
...The key broke.
Haha. We're done for.
In the end I was left clutching a key that was nothing but a handle, sunk in despair.
That was when—
"I-I'm all right... Just leave me here and go on your own."
"What?"
"It's better than both of us getting caught by the Church. Hurry!"
"That's...!"
She wasn't wrong, but—!
Rain shoved me back up onto my feet. Rain really is strong!
Then she smiled a smile painful even to look at, and spoke as if she had already given up.
"It was only a short while, but I had fun. I will never, ever forget you, Ira-nim!"
"Rain..."
...No. You tell me to leave you, and then you say something like that? Say that, and it only gets harder to run. I'm weak to this kind of thing!
In the end I abandoned any thought of fleeing and seized Rain by the wrist.
"Ira-nim?"
"The basement, for now! They won't find us easily down there!"
When I had first arrived, that place had been left exactly as it was—which meant it hadn't been discovered twenty years ago, either.
A pursuit force, thrown together in haste to track Rain Balzac, the demon child who had fled the Church. At its head rode the current Saintess, Lucia.
She called to the holy knight keeping pace at her side.
"You said it was around here?"
"Yes! That's correct!"
"Hmm..."
This place lay a considerable distance from the Church. To think she had come all the way out here. An ordinary child would have struggled to make it so far. Young as she was, perhaps a demon was still a demon.
A peaceful forest...
Aside from wild beasts such as wolves and low-grade monsters such as goblins, there was scarcely a danger to be found. A peaceful wood. That, at least, was something to be grateful for.
It happened then.
"Hold. Stop."
Neigh...!
Clop, clop...
Someone had abruptly barred the front of the column, and every rider hauled on the reins at once, bringing the horses to a halt.
Shing—! Shing—!
Battle-readiness followed at once—the alert that came whenever a suspicious figure appeared.
What had dangerously blocked their path was a single hunter. A face that seemed somehow familiar...
Having confirmed, at any rate, that it was neither bandit nor monster, Lucia raised a hand, ordered the knights under her command to stand down, and spoke.
"A hunter from the village? What is the matter?"
"Where do you think you're going? There's nothing dangerous enough up ahead to justify the likes of you showing up."
"We are in pursuit of a demon who fled. We were told the demon was here."
"Someone tip you off? Name of the informant?"
"Our own investigation."
At Lucia's answer the hunter's expression turned subtle, and she went on.
"Your own investigation. Convenient words. Then of course you've got the papers, too? Don't go thinking that wearing glittering armor means everything is permitted. From where I stand, you're no different from a pack of bandits."
"How dare you, before the Saintess!"
"Until I see the documents, I don't know whether you're real knights riding with the real Saintess, or a heavily armed band of thieves led by someone who merely looks like her."
"You bastard...!"
Shing—!
Provoked by the hunter's insults, one of the holy knights could bear it no longer and drew his sword. Lucia swiftly raised a hand to check him, and continued.
"I remember you now. Evelyn Hedwin, correct? I heard that during the Demon King's army's final invasion, you held the village alone..."
"You know me?"
"It is rare for anyone to refuse a title."
Having recognized the hunter barring her way, the Saintess lowered her head with care and went on.
"The matter was urgent, so I was unable to prepare. I will see to it, however, that no harm comes to the villagers, so please set your mind at ease. If you truly cannot bring yourself to trust us, you are welcome to accompany us."
"Accompany you? What, trying to walk me into a trap?"
"No, that isn't..."
Feeling that words were simply not getting through, the Saintess let out a deep sigh. Among those who refused titles, after all, there were no ordinary people. Short of a fierce sense of duty, pure stubbornness, or some complicated history, no one chose to turn a title down. Such a person could not be persuaded by speech alone. And this, without question, was her own fault—for letting urgency get the better of her and failing to prepare the documents beforehand.
"...In any case, a writ of execution will suffice, yes?"
"Right. Go back and bring papers stamped with the Church's seal, and—"
In that instant Lucia drew from her bosom an ornately worked rosario and a single parchment scroll, scrawled something across the back, and held it out to her.
"Here."
"This is...?"
"The writ of execution. It bears an anti-forgery relic, a divine consecration, and the seal. Please confirm it for yourself."
Evelyn accepted the writ, her face slack with disbelief.
"...You're allowed to draft a writ of execution on the spot?"
"I am the Saintess. The chain of report is merely omitted."
Surely that was hardly the only problem. She, of course, would know herself that what she was doing was a stretch.
"..."
But for her to stand this unflinching could only mean that Rain's matter was that urgent—urgent enough that even the Church was staking everything on it.
"Then, will you cooperate with us now?"
"..."