Arrival at Merlyn
A few days later, we decided to leave the village of Boderan.
We could have departed sooner, but a matter among our party needed settling first, and that delayed us.
What matter?
The 7th Apostle.
His existence, specifically.
We agreed to keep the appearance of the 7th Apostle a secret.
"For now, it's best if only we know," someone said. "They call him the Apostle of Illusion for a reason. We ought to be careful."
"He's good at beguiling people, then."
"Yes. Brainwashing, you might call it."
From what I gathered, the 7th Apostle was notorious for corrupting people as well.
That tracked.
True happiness, salvation… exactly the sort of thing a cult leader would peddle.
So what would happen if word got out that we had met him?
Wow! The 7th Apostle fled before the valor of Saint Khtun!
…Would people think that?
No. Not a chance.
That bastard ran into the 7th Apostle and lived. What if he's been brainwashed?
That was far more likely.
Anyone who knew me even a little might accept the truth—that this Saint Khtun had driven the 7th Apostle off—but most people wouldn't.
And then there was the other problem.
It's not as if I've got nothing to feel guilty about…
Namely:
You. How would you like to succeed me?
The 7th Apostle had offered me a recruitment pitch.
Unless we planned to spill every detail exactly as it happened, burying the 7th Apostle's existence was the right call.
Eternal secrets don't exist, of course—but Brother James, Zeke, and Milo I could trust.
That aside.
"Brother James, is there truly nothing wrong with my body?"
Brother James nodded.
"Yes. I've checked several times. I found no trace of any foul power."
"Hmm."
"Are you certain the 7th Apostle injected some strange force into you?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
I had felt it clearly—that bizarre power boring into my skull.
And yet now, nothing.
"This… won't be a problem, will it?"
"For the moment… all I can say is that it doesn't appear to be. Nothing registers under holy power."
"I see."
It left a bad taste, but there was nothing to do but move on. I couldn't sit around fretting forever.
What did a situation like this call for?
The power of positive thinking.
I wouldn't normally put stock in anything a demon-worshipper said, but I decided to make an exception this once.
The day of choice will come soon. I am not the only one who has waited for a being like you. No—there is one who has waited for you more desperately still. A pitiful, wretched monster, incomplete without death.
In the not-too-distant future, this power will protect you. From that monster. But remember: that moment will also be the moment of choice. And… no one will offer you a more merciful proposal than I.
I'd believe it. Getting it off my chest that way mattered.
Anyway.
"Whew. Shall we go, then?"
"Yes, let's."
We bid farewell to Builders, the manor knight of Boderan, and set out on the road.
After that, we stopped by Hadion Castle before turning toward Merlyn County.
As for the "unidentified forces" that had appeared simultaneously across the Hadion Viscounty—they had already vanished without a trace.
Why?
Even Viscount Hadion himself had no idea.
"I don't know what happened, but at any rate, they're all gone now."
"Hmm."
"Do you have any inkling yourselves?"
"No, we don't really…"
We couldn't be certain, but we had our suspicions.
The 7th Apostle.
He must have pulled some strings.
And that wasn't the only strange thing.
What else?
Our Ancestor.
He said the magic stone vein in Falaon was the goal. So why did he withdraw?
Well… I wouldn't know. We've put out the immediate fire, so better to set this problem aside for later.
Right. Yes.
Ever since meeting the 7th Apostle, the Ancestor had taken to sinking into solitary thought more often. Sometimes he gazed out over distant fields with melancholy eyes, as if some private worry weighed on him.
It bothered me, but I didn't press. Once he'd sorted his thoughts, he'd say something on his own.
In any case, we continued our journey toward Merlyn.
"This is the farthest I've ever gone."
"Is that so? I heard you lived elsewhere as a child, though."
"I did. But leaving Falaon itself—that's a first."
"I see. May I ask where you lived before?"
"A small slash-and-burn village in the western reaches of the Heorn Kingdom. A place where people who'd fled a rotten lord gathered to hide. I lived there with my mother."
"I find myself curious what Brother Khtun's mother was like."
"Mm. So do I, honestly."
As for my mother, Viola… she had been a good person. A little eccentric, maybe, but good.
Perhaps that was why, before I recovered my past-life memories, there had been nights I soaked my pillow in secret, missing her.
Of course.
…Though now I'm not sure what kind of person she really was.
I only learned she had been a necromancer after the Blood Awakening Ceremony.
Looking back through the more jaded lens of a previous life, Mother had been someone who kept a great many secrets. Taking me to Falaon was one of them. She never explained why.
We talked of this and that as we went. When we found a village, we stayed at an inn; when we didn't, we camped wherever seemed suitable. Winter was drawing near, and the air had a proper chill, but the weather still wasn't much of a problem.
How far had we come when—
"Ah. There it is."
"That's…"
We cast our eyes toward the horizon.
Vast wheat fields, already harvested. And beyond them, a long, high curtain of walls.
We had arrived.
At Merlyn Castle.
"Has anyone here been to Merlyn Castle before?"
"I haven't."
"Neither have I."
Zeke and Milo both shook their heads.
Next, Brother James.
"I likewise… To be honest, a city this large is a first for me. I always travel the remote places."
"That makes sense."
It did. People's awareness of it had faded lately, but Brother James was originally a demon hunter. Like most priests of the Twelve Hour Church, he had spent his life roaming the most isolated corners of the continent, hunting demons. A metropolis like this would be outside his experience.
Which meant we couldn't help looking like a pack of country bumpkins fresh off the farm.
And why was I a bumpkin too?
No choice in the matter. There was a grandeur here different from any modern city I'd known.
And so—
"Next."
We submitted to inspection at the checkpoint.
"Khtun Falaon, of Falaon."
"Pardon me, but may I see your family crest token?"
"Here."
I'd collected the family crest token for this trip. It proved membership in our house. We rarely needed it around home, but I'd been told a major city like Merlyn would require it.
"One moment, please."
The checkpoint soldier produced a ledger of some kind. A glance showed it was a catalog of family crests.
After a short wait—
"Sir! My apologies for the inconvenience, Young Master Khtun."
"Not at all. Necessary procedure."
"Thank you for understanding. Then…"
We passed the checkpoint and entered the city.
Had we wished, we could have had the checkpoint send word straight to House Merlyn—but we didn't.
We need to prepare first, after all.
Father had been emphatic on the point: before visiting House Merlyn, we were to dress properly. I'd wondered whether it was truly necessary, but he'd drilled it into us so thoroughly that I decided to obey.
And then—
It didn't take long for my Do we really have to? attitude to shatter.
The city inside Merlyn Castle was another world entirely.
"Is this… real?"
Broad avenues. Buildings of every shape and color. Compared to Palatus, you could almost doubt they shared the same era and civilization—and the pedestrians' clothes were no less of a gulf.
Clothes… yeah. We need to get fitted.
I wasn't looking to show off. I just didn't want to give anyone an excuse to find fault.
"Shall we, uh, move?"
"Y-yes."
My companions, still staring open-mouthed, fell into step.
Falaon really was the sticks.
Hah. So it is. Merlyn has come this far…
Even the Ancestor sounded astonished this time.
As we wandered in search of a clothing shop, various thoughts drifted through my head. Could Falaon one day become this prosperous? And if so, what would it take?
The answer was simple, really.
Industrialization.
Money would do it. Where money flowed, people gathered; where people gathered, a town developed on its own. In other words: put the engineers to work. The first product—the sewing machine—would fasten that first button.
Of course, that was a somewhat distant future. What mattered right now was forming the Southern Alliance through the Count of Merlyn.
Not long after—
"Shall we go?"
"Yes."
We washed up at an inn, put on the clothes tailored at an atelier, and set out.
Late afternoon.
Ellie, the youngest of House Merlyn, paced the garden with a restless face.
"My lady."
"…"
"My lady…"
"Ah—yes. What is it, Lina?"
Ellie turned at the call of her maid, Lina. Lina looked at her with worried eyes.
"Are you all right?"
"About what?"
"You've seemed so troubled lately."
"Troubled… No, I'm not particularly worried."
In truth, she had every reason to be.
If she had to pin a date on it… yes. Ever since returning from Falaon.
After coming back to Merlyn with her eldest brother, Ahentar, something had changed. For reasons she couldn't name, Ahentar's manner toward her had grown warm. It felt almost like childhood again, when they had all gotten along.
The problem was her older sister, Kasha.
Ellie, you and our eldest brother seem quite close these days. Have you decided to throw in with him after all?
In the middle of a succession struggle, Kasha had assumed Ellie was joining Ahentar's faction.
Ellie had tried again and again to clear up the misunderstanding, but undoing Kasha's suspicions was no easy task. If anything, the misunderstanding only deepened.
Trying to cling to both sides like a bat? Or did our eldest brother put you up to it? I can't tell whether you're cunning or simply stupid.
To make matters worse, Ahentar's attitude shifted after that day as well. He had seemed intent on renewing their old closeness—then, at some point, he began ignoring her even when they crossed paths.
Left with only Kasha's hostility, Ellie felt as though she were walking on thin ice.
This… is not good.
Unlike Ahentar, Kasha was clearly dangerous. She was the sort of extreme personality who, even as a child, had beheaded her own nanny for nothing more than offending her temper. A nanny was a stranger and a younger sister was family—of course they were different—but Ellie couldn't help feeling uneasy.
Which was why—
I need to find some kind of countermeasure, and soon…
Rushing a marriage, perhaps. Or else—
The Ancestor's legacy.
Finding that.
But to find the legacy, she needed information from the ring—the Ancestor's keepsake. And for that, she needed a necromancer of exceptional skill.
"If I'd known it would come to this, I would have asked him then…"
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
Ellie sighed, resenting the past version of herself who hadn't been able to decide.
It was then that her father's attendant found her.
"My lady, the Count requests your presence."
"Father? What for?"
A vague anxiety rose in her—until the attendant's next words proved something she could welcome.
"Young Master Khtun, the second son of Falaon, has come to call."
Khtun had arrived.