A Letter from the Papal Palace
“Sent from the Papal Palace.”
“The villagers are far kinder than I expected.”
Having watched the villagers slaughter a chicken and offer its blood to a vampire, Sister Celine found herself torn between agreeing with the sentiment and shooting Bellarne a withering glare. In the end, she decided to do both.
“Indeed. They show no caution even toward a vampire who attacked their village. Quite the generous hospitality.”
She delivered the remark with a sharp look, then widened her eyes and hastily added, “Ah! I didn’t mean that as criticism of the villagers! They’ve been nothing but kind to me as well!”
Bellarne, who had been swirling the chicken blood in a wineglass-like cup, flung both arms forward in frantic denial. Her characteristically sharp eyes blinked once before she took a sip. A moment later her brow furrowed.
Celine observed her reaction. “Does the blood not suit your taste?”
Her voice carried a trace of anticipation. Bellarne’s lips curved upward. In the next instant, the nun’s expectations shattered in direct proportion to the height of that smile.
“It’s drinkable, but rather astringent. Compared to my benefactor’s blood, it’s like chewing raw grass. As expected, my benefactor’s blood is the best.”
With her eyes curving like crescent moons, the vampire glanced toward a particular spot. Celine followed her gaze and felt her own eyes slant into matching half-moons.
There stood the vampire’s self-proclaimed “benefactor,” savagely tearing into the hind leg of the very creature whose blood Bellarne was drinking. With no trace of mercy, the barbarian devoured the meat in massive bites. He then lifted a tankard containing what looked to be nearly a liter of beer and drained it in one ruthless gulp. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, as though his heart were pounding with the same explosive force it displayed in battle, broadcasting his satisfaction with the feast.
“Kuhahaha!”
The barbarian wiped his mouth and let out a victorious roar. The two women, momentarily dazed by the brutal display, snapped back to their senses. Celine recovered first.
“Absolutely not!”
“Oh my. Whatever could I possibly be doing that warrants such a firm refusal?”
“You’re obviously trying to drink Sir Harnok’s blood again!”
“My benefactor has already granted permission. You have no right to interfere, do you?”
“I am the nun of this village!”
At Bellarne’s sticky, probing question, Celine’s voice rose to a shout. Both women turned to look at Harnok. Fortunately—because if he overheard their conversation he might decide to “reconcile” them with his usual brute force—the two shared a deep, unspoken understanding on that particular point. The barbarian was seated at a distant table, eating alone. Around him lay the village men who had fallen in glorious defeat during the battle between liquor and food. Harnok alone remained upright, serenely savoring his victory.
Because the western frontier attracted those who struggled to make a living, the men came from many different regions, and soon every variety of liquor from across the Holy Kingdom began competing for supremacy at the feast. When serious rivalry broke out, alliances naturally formed. An unprecedented coalition of grape wine, apple cider, and dark beer emerged, and one by one the ambitious men who had dreamed of unifying the world with their own local brews were sunk beneath the tide.
Celine and Bellarne watched the villagers’ reckless attempts to challenge the dangerously colored liquor—by the time the barbarian warrior Harnok reached for it, every other man had already collapsed—then shook their heads and slipped out to the edge of the hall.
The barbarian warrior’s ambition was immense. His dream was to peacefully harmonize every drop of liquor and every morsel of food inside his own stomach. While the nun watched him for a moment, lips lightly bitten, she suddenly shot Bellarne a sharp glare.
“Being the nun of this place means I bear the duty of looking after it. And that duty naturally includes Sir Harnok as well.”
Bellarne said nothing, merely swirling the blood in her glass as if inviting Celine to continue.
Annoyed by the vampire’s indifferent attitude, Celine puffed out her cheeks and muttered on. “Blood is an essential source of power for a vampire like you. It’s no different from how we eat meat and drink water to sustain ourselves.”
“If you understand that much, then why do you keep trying to stop me from feeding? ‘Bestow the Lord’s love upon all things.’ Isn’t that the guiding principle of you clergy?”
“Blood is also vital for us humans to maintain life. I cannot allow you to take something so precious whenever you please. Whether Sir Harnok permits it or not, your actions still pose a danger to him. That goes against everything a nun is meant to uphold. I believe you will refrain from such dangerous behavior—after all, you are a ‘believer’ who trusts in the Lord.”
Bellarne set her nearly empty glass down with a sharp clink. Her eyes curved into crescents, yet Celine could not bring herself to believe the vampire was truly smiling.
“How cruel,” Bellarne said with a pout. “We’re fellow believers now.”
“That! Is! Exactly! Why! I’m asking you to exercise restraint!”
Only after Celine rose onto her tiptoes, eyes already round as full moons growing even larger, and fixed Bellarne with a piercing glare did the vampire’s expression return to its usual mocking form.
“Yes, yes~. If our little nun insists, then I suppose I must obey. What choice do I have? I’m only a newly registered believer who hasn’t even been here long.”
Seeing Bellarne back down so readily, Celine let out a long sigh of relief. If the vampire began steadily draining Sir Harnok’s blood under the pretext of permission, there would come a day when even Celine could no longer stop her. Just as she began to feel reassured by the unexpectedly cooperative situation, the nun’s eyes once again slanted into half-moons at Bellarne’s earlier remark.
“I am not little!”
“You must all be exhausted! To think so many villagers have already fallen asleep! Well, they did say some stayed up all night waiting for us. In that case, it’s only natural they’d be tired!”
Having finally achieved his ambition of harmonizing every scrap of food and drop of liquor inside his stomach, Harnok burst into hearty laughter. Celine and Bellarne had to swallow the urge to ask whether he could not see the grotesque-colored tankards rolling beside the fallen village men.
At any rate, the nun was also extremely tired after staying up most of the night, and the vampire had only just sated a long hunger. Especially Celine, who kept yawning and nodding off.
Watching her for a moment, Harnok spoke. “Come to think of it, the hour has grown quite late! Since it’s already night, we should return!”
Celine, rubbing her eyes, asked, “Mmm… Is it all right to leave the villagers like this?”
“On the contrary, if I carried each of them home they would only wake up and suffer inconvenience! It’s far better to let them sleep soundly right here! We did the same even before you arrived!”
“Return? Return where? Has separate lodging been prepared for us in this village?”
The next question came from Bellarne.
“We usually spend the night at the church that belongs to this village. Well, I’ve only been here a short while myself, so I’ve only slept there once.”
Bellarne’s face turned deathly pale. Her already pallid skin grew even more ashen, as though she might faint at any moment. Trembling, she asked, “Ch-church…? You mean the church I’m thinking of? The one filled with holy relics…? Th-then doesn’t that mean it has holy power?”
She did not need an answer from the nun. Harnok’s mouth opened, his gums fully exposed in a wide grin.
“Indeed! For eight years I lived alone in that church and found it rather lonely. Now there will be no need for that! Wait—come to think of it, this is the vampire’s first time seeing our village church! We must hurry and show it to her!”
“Ah, no, I think I could take my time looking at it—eeeeek—!”
Bellarne’s desperate cry was quickly swallowed by the rushing wind. By the time she cautiously opened her tightly shut eyes, Harnok was already climbing the mountainside toward the church. Held around the waist by the barbarian’s right hand, Bellarne had no idea how to respond to this unprecedented situation—until she noticed the nun, eyes squeezed shut, clinging to Harnok’s shoulder with her face buried against it.
“……”
Watching a massive boulder disappear beneath her feet, Bellarne quietly resolved to learn from her senior in the faith.
Both women, still gasping for breath with their hair in wild disarray, lifted their heads at the same moment. Their expressions were identical. Celine could not believe she was expected to sleep in this dilapidated, haunted-looking church, while Bellarne could not believe the place was a church at all.
“……This isn’t a church, it’s a ruin, isn’t it?”
Celine wanted to reply, but she was far too out of breath. Panting, the nun could only remain silent.
Bellarne’s eyes darted about, taking in the church that defied every notion she held about such buildings. At last, realization dawned and she cried out brightly, “Of course! My benefactor knew I was vulnerable to holy power and sunlight and prepared this place in advance…! How could my benefactor’s foresight be so thorough…!”
“Stop saying strange things and just prepare a place to sleep!”
Of course, it would have been preferable if showing her deathly pale skin—nearly fainting-pale—had been the only incident. Unfortunately, that event occurred when Bellarne greeted a new morning in the pioneer village.
“Hm?”
Awakened by the sound of Harnok striking his body against the church floor in prayer, Bellarne stumbled outside, still trying to escape the bizarre dream in which her benefactor was slamming himself against the church floor. Then she noticed something.
Bellarne slowly picked up a scrap of paper lying in front of the church door. Fortunately the church was built inside the mountain, so the morning sunlight had not yet reached it and she could retrieve the item without difficulty.
“Um… Benefactor?”
Harnok, having finished his prayers, approached at her call.
“Hm?”
“This was lying in front of the church door.”
“Oh, this?”
The final reaction belonged to Celine. After carefully examining the paper, the nun spoke slowly.
“It was sent from the Papal Palace in the Holy City.”