The Visit (1)
Heretics.
Those who worshipped fallen or evil gods—the wicked and the profane.
Even within the Empire they ranked among the most persistent headaches. People said it would be better to deal with exiles, anti-magic fanatics, or ordinary criminals.
“S-Saintess! The heretics have offered an entire village as a human sacrifice…!”
“S-Saintess! The sea has turned to blood!”
“The mountain is completely buried under blood…!”
“The Sun God is a fake? The mountain is a fake too? What kind of nonsense is this?”
Ridiculous rumors that arrived every day. Nothing but extra work. One day she intended to go out and wipe them away herself.
It was also an essential step toward my goal.
To call the sun back into this world.
It was a plan progressing in absolute secrecy—unknown even to the Pope. To make the work easier, she needed complete control of the temple. She would sweep away every false believer who failed to worship the god properly, restore true faith to the world, and work a miracle that would erase the loathsome curse nesting in her heart.
An indispensable process.
Thump.
Adrianne quietly clutched her cold chest. Her heart was ice-cold, and it beat only slowly. The curse had tormented the Saintess for a very long time—a curse laid upon her by the one who lurked beyond the North, jealous of her talent.
The potion Evan had given her had temporarily held it in check, but she never knew when it might revive. That was also why she could not leave the Temple of the Sun at will. Without the Sun God’s blessing the curse only worsened. Even when she did go out, the Full Moon Church was the best she could manage. Moonlight was a kind of sunlight; it possessed a similar power to suppress the curse.
Come to think of it, it’s about time I received a new batch of potion.
Arthur had spoken his mind about the potion without the slightest filter. After that he had grown openly cautious, and once they met in person he became even more careful.
“He told me not to act so conspicuously.”
“Did he say that directly?”
“He also ordered me to report my actions periodically… so yes, in a manner of speaking.”
Thus the Saintess, too, was carefully watching Evan’s mood. There was no telling when that young mastermind might decide to show his displeasure and reveal his true intentions.
…Did he send Bishop Blake knowing this—meaning I should contact him if I need anything?
A gift, and at the same time an invitation to get in touch. Remaining silent after receiving a gift would be rude. Duke Cabaro was a born aristocrat; if Evan had inherited that temperament, it made perfect sense.
Cold sweat trickled down her back. He hadn’t noticed she had been deliberately avoiding conversation… had he?
“Heh… heheh. How amusing.”
Adrianne forced a smile.
[Mmph! Mmph!]
At that strange laugh Bishop Blake thrashed. Only then did Adrianne wipe the smile from her lips. She approached the heart bound in iron chains with deliberate steps.
“A pleasure to meet you, Bishop Blake. Or is this our second meeting?”
[Pwah!]
Only after the chains loosened did the Silence magic release. The bishop, who had no air holes yet still managed to gasp several times, snarled.
[Dog of the god… Adrianne…!]
“Oh my. Personally I prefer cats to dogs.”
[What kind of monster have you raised?]
His voice was rigid, laced with a fine thread of terror.
[I have lived a long time, yet even I… have never seen a monster like that.]
Bishop Blake was a priest who had received a measure of the Blood God’s grace. He had long since surpassed a human lifespan. Yet those years had meant nothing; he had been toyed with one-sidedly by a single child—the young monster who had even turned a child of Sin into his own devotee.
[Did you raise that monster?]
“Raise him? What a discourtesy…”
Adrianne smiled and covered her mouth with her sleeve.
“Even I am merely one of the ‘toys’ he amuses himself with.”
[T-toy?]
Confusion colored the bishop’s voice.
[He toys with you—an apostle of the god—as if you were a plaything?]
“You saw it yourself, did you not?”
[I… cannot understand him. He was an unknown I could not comprehend.]
If it had been mere chaos, he might have understood it as “something beyond understanding.” But the unknown was different. Understanding itself was impossible. He had not known? How could that be, when he had witnessed it with his own two eyes?
A true mastermind who kept two Sins under his command and even used the Knight of the Full Moon as a “sword” whenever needed. Above all—
He turned a Sin into a devotee who worships him.
Humans cannot become gods. Heroes, perhaps. Even so, faith holds tremendous power—the power to make others believe and follow. In that realm, life itself is nothing more than a means. To bend even a Sin into such a devotee… and the truly chilling part was that Evan had never lifted a finger himself. They had come to believe and follow of their own free will, convinced they had been saved.
If he could twist even a Sin that thoroughly, what of anyone else? Could he fail? Of course not. He simply chose not to, or had not yet felt the need.
[Saintess… even you will never fully know him. He… he was a heretic in the truest sense of the word.]
“A heretic, you say. How interesting.”
Adrianne smiled faintly. A white halo rose behind her head, gently illuminating the interior of the Grand Temple.
[W-wait—]
“I have many questions. I don’t know how much you actually know, but…”
Softly—
Sunlight wrapped the bishop’s heart in a cozy embrace. Outwardly the light looked warm; inside it burned hotter than anything else.
[Aaaagh! Aaaaaaagh!]
“Bishop.”
Adrianne spoke with a gentle smile.
“Shall we have a little ‘discussion’ about scripture together?”
And while they were at it, she would properly grasp the purpose of Evan Alcarte as well.
Just then—
[Letter! Letterrrrr!]
A bird tapped at the window with its beak. It was the bird that delivered letters whenever the holy knights were absent. Adrianne accepted the letter and unfolded it.
I hear a large quantity of drugs was distributed at the recent ball. I would be grateful if you could assist with that matter.
“……Indeed.”
A deep smile curved her lips. She thought she finally understood what he wanted.
Lately Frey had been acting strange.
Is she sick?
Frey, the Sin of Pride. Ever since the heretic subjugation she had been different. Not in a bad way, exactly. Only…
“Evan.”
“Evan.”
“Evan, aren’t you hungry?”
“I tried cooking this time.”
She followed him around, handled any heavy work in his place, and made sure he ate on time. Dolf was jealous enough to sulk. Why all of a sudden?
She wasn’t this bad before.
She had been a bit of a tsundere—snapping first whenever he said anything. Now she simply acted on her own initiative. When he gave an order she nodded quietly and carried it out perfectly. She used to take open pride in showing off her knowledge; now even that urge seemed gone.
What was wrong with the kid?
She isn’t actually sick, is she?
So he casually asked Lapis.
“Hmm… I don’t think she’s sick! She’s just finally realized it.”
“Realized what?”
“The truth?”
What was that supposed to mean? He didn’t understand, and Lapis refused to explain further. She even stuck out her tongue and bolted. Later, when he tried bribing her with expensive vegetables, he still failed.
Had he spoiled her too much?
Well… it’ll work itself out somehow.
Was she the same type as the Saintess? The Saintess also kept giving strange answers and never actually resolved Evan’s questions. Maybe the two of them were similar.
The Saintess was not particularly strong in combat. Her divine power was formidable, but she had no separate fighting ability. Instead she was said to be unmatched in strategy—so skilled that she would one day kill a great demon that appeared in the future using strategy alone.
If I leave her alone she’ll probably settle down.
More importantly, had the letter arrived safely? He hoped she liked the gift. If that also solved the current drug crisis, even better.
Someone of the Saintess’s caliber should be able to cure drug addiction.
Drugs destroyed the brain and nervous system. Restoring them would be enough. It required divine power strong enough that even an archbishop could not manage it, but a Saintess favored by the god could. Besides, the addiction probably had not reached that severe a stage yet. A bishop-level healer ought to be able to treat it.
She’ll help at least this much, right?
He had already sent the letter yesterday; it would work out somehow.
Three more days passed.
Then Frey made a shocking declaration.
“Evan.”
“Yes?”
“I want to become independent.”
Frey’s shocking declaration! Evan could not even answer at once; he simply blinked.
What?
“……Independent, you say?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you need personal time, or do you need a place of your own?”
“It’s not exactly either of those…”
Independent? Independence?
We just got close!
Evan was flabbergasted. He stared at her, but Frey only averted her gaze instead of answering.
They say you don’t have to treat every kid well…
Weren’t we friends now?
“……Is there something you want to do?”
“The orphanage you said you were going to build. I want to run it.”
“Run it?”
“Yeah. Just assign one adult, and I’ll manage everything myself.”
Should he send her or not? Evan hesitated. She had grown much quieter lately. She no longer caused trouble. Maybe she really had been reformed. Strictly speaking he ought to cross-check thoroughly, but…
…Maybe I can trust her just this once.
“Very well.”
“!”
The permission came so easily that Frey’s eyes went round.
“Really?”
“Yes. I will transfer management authority of the orphanage to you.”
It would be good for the children to have someone close to their own age. Destined to become the Sin of Pride, she was bound to be clever. In practice she had already handled several tasks well. If left alone she would manage just fine. He would need to check in occasionally, and the orphanage might still collapse, but…
It’s not even my money.
Originally he had planned to fund it himself, but the Duke had offered support, saying it was not yet time for Evan to spend personal funds. All the better.
“However, this is not independence. Frey is still young.”
That was the minimum line. Full independence felt too early. She was not grown yet. At the same time he could not simply forbid it. What if she flew into a rage and tried to kill him? Not that he was scared—he was merely a little worried.
Lapis stared at him intently. Evan looked away.
“Rather than independence, I am supporting your individual activities. Frey’s home is still here.”
“……Yeah. I won’t forget.”
If she became completely independent she might decide they were strangers and try to kill him. Keeping this much of a sense of belonging was better. With that thought Evan signed the documents cleanly, telling himself this much would be fine.
Frey packed her things. There was little to pack—just paper and a quill. For one destined to become a Sin of the future, food was optional.
Crunch.
Lapis, chewing a carrot, fixed her eyes on Frey.
“What are you thinking? Independence?”
“Are you satisfied with just this one family?”
Frey asked quietly. Lapis slowly stopped devouring her carrot.
“……Satisfied?”
“I don’t know how far Evan is drawing his picture, but at the very least he won’t be satisfied stopping here. You know that too, right?”
Evan was greedy. He simply never showed it. A destiny large enough to embrace every future Sin. Such a destiny was like an awl—impossible to hide no matter how hard one tried. Countless threats might one day come crashing down upon him. A vast destiny was like a magnet; all sorts of things were drawn to it.
“……But Evan never ordered anything. He never even said anything.”
“I learned from a book that a devotee must be able to discern the will of their god on their own.”
A strange light shone in Frey’s eyes. The blinds that had covered them slowly lifted, revealing their true form.
A pentagram—the mark of those who worship a god. Originally it should have been an inverted pentagram, yet the dissonance of a Sin of Pride worshipping someone else had twisted the symbol.
“You protect Evan.”
Frey whispered to Lapis.
“I will become Evan’s hands and feet somewhere else.”
“What are you going to do?”
“The salvation of the Sins.”
Frey smiled faintly.
“That is what Evan desires. Do you still not understand?”
Lapis’s face crumpled.
“I know that too, you know.”
“Yeah. I thought you would.”
Wrath and Pride. One instinct, one reason. Symbols of Sin that stood at complete opposite poles, yet in this moment their wills were identical.
“All of this,”
Their voices overlapped.
“is for Evan.”
Frey left.
Two days later, a guest arrived.
The Magic Tower—more precisely, the tower to which only alchemists could belong. The man who called himself an elder asked Evan:
“So, are you the next Tower Master?”
“……?”
Me?