Fate (2)
A stir had broken out inside the temple.
"Well, live long enough and you'll see anything."
A bishop of the Holy See's own central court had been caught unleashing a demon—of all people. And not just a demon; he had smuggled in Divine Poison as well. It was the kind of incident that all but promised a sweeping inquisition.
Worse, though the intent was still unknown, if the target had been the Emperor and the Crown Prince, a bloodbath could have swept the Empire. Thanks to that milk-guzzling little Isaac, the imperial family had just been handed the chance to squeeze the Pope's neck.
But the priests were truly abuzz for a different reason.
The bishop affair alone was enough to turn the nation upside down—just not right now.
"Unhand me! How dare the mere dogs of Eshua lay hands on me!"
The priests were staring at the blue-armored knights dragging the bishop away.
"Those really are Eshua people, aren't they?"
"Wow. I never once imagined I'd live to see an Eshua in the flesh."
The holy knights of Eshua cut a figure altogether different from the imperial knight orders.
Where the imperial knights wore crisp, white-based uniforms, Eshua wore the color of the sea itself. True to their station, the fabric of their garb was white—but their trousers, cloaks, gauntlets, accessories, embroidery, and ornaments were all rendered in a single wash of blue. Every time they moved, the street seemed to flood with ocean.
At that elegant blue tide, the priests couldn't help but let their admiration show.
"Now that is worthy of the Blue Faith."
"Agreed. Of the Five Great Families, I've always thought Eshua the most priestly. The farthest removed from greed and worldly corruption."
"Yes, and with the baby Saint set to lead the Blue Faith, surely he'll grow into an honest and virtuous soul!"
The priests gazed warmly at the grinning Skeleton King.
The corners of the Skeleton King's mouth had long since split his face—he was on the verge of grinning straight through his ears.
They're finally here, my money trees!
The diamond-spooned bastards he'd been ready to stick straws into had finally shown up!
The Skeleton King was so delighted he felt like breaking into a tap dance. And who could blame him?
There hadn't been so much as a hint that anyone from the family was coming for him, so he'd assumed he was a write-off entirely.
Honestly, I thought I was a bastard child.
He'd been racking his brain over how to blackmail a ducal house with that. And then—what? A direct descendant?
Well, status: cleared, for starters.
At the very least, he wouldn't be treated as some nameless pile of bone on account of his origins.
Born the lowest of the low—a trash-tier monster, the 'Skeleton'—the Skeleton King had suffered more than his share of indignities, and he let out a low, pleased laugh. Sure, he had plenty of questions about whatever had possessed them to abandon their child like this, but they'd come looking, and that was what mattered.
Anywhere but this temple. Anywhere at all.
From what the priests were saying—the 'most priestly family'—even a fool could tell this was a house that prized honesty and frugality. But who cared about that!
They were a ducal house practically rotting with money, whatever they pretended!
Give them the same mushroom and they'd pick the expensive truffle every time—obviously!
Oh, they wouldn't?
Then he'd just have them annihilated, then.
In any case, everyone—including the Skeleton King—looked delighted to welcome the people of Eshua.
All except one.
"Eshua!"
"!"
"Where in God's name did you people drag that abomination from!"
It was the bishop, bound and hauled toward the carriage. He glared at the Skeleton King as if beholding a monster, veins bulging.
"Damned Eshua! No wonder they call you heretics—to birth such a creature!"
The bishop was clearly still suspicious of the Skeleton King.
"I will expose that thing's true nature. To think you'd take that monster in with you—Eshua will destroy itself and be… Aaagh!"
Blood spattered red.
The bishop's shrill scream rang through the air.
When the Skeleton King turned his wide eyes toward the sound, the bishop was writhing in agony, his palm skewered clean through.
The Eshua holy knight who had run the man's palm through with her blade batted her eyes pleasantly.
"There are limits to blasphemy. Curse the blood of Eshua once more, and next time I'll cut your throat."
The bishop glared up at the woman knight, sword bared. Judging by the crest on her blue stole, she was at least a 6th-Tier high holy knight. The head of House Eshua seemed to have taken particular care—but who could say?
"The maddest of the Five Great Families! You dare lay hands on a member of the Pope's own house and expect His Holiness to stand idly… Hrk!"
The frost-pale blade drew its arc.
Splurt!
The bishop crumpled, blood gushing from his throat. He didn't die, but with his vocal cords severed, he could only gag and choke in misery.
The beauty flicked the blood from her blade with evident distaste.
"As if Eshua feared anything under heaven. I did warn you—I'd cut your throat if you blasphemed us once more."
The bishop, at last coughing up blood, was dragged into the carriage.
At the sight, the Skeleton King let out a murmur of genuine admiration.
Oho. They'll do nicely!
Nothing like the imperial knights, who'd stuffed their faces without an ounce of awareness. And that wasn't all.
They didn't even blink at the Pope's name.
Entirely unlike the imperial knights, who'd frozen solid at its mention—though that wasn't because those men were cowards.
Priests and holy knights of this country serve the Pope as their liege by default.
Priests and holy knights were all products of the temple. Which meant their true master, in their hearts, could only ever be the Pope.
And yet the priests, and the imperial knights—all of them revered Eshua.
This Eshua knight had quite literally told the Pope's house to go to hell, savagely slicing through the palm and vocal cords of a member of the papal line.
Granted, the bishop was headed for an inquisition anyway—but think of what that implied.
At minimum, a house standing level with the Pope himself.
Having sized up the situation, the Skeleton King nodded along, looking all the more fond of his ancestors. If this had been a house that had to grovel before those papal bastards no matter how golden its spoons, he honestly would have sold the family out and run for it.
Besides—look how disciplined these people were!
"We beg your forgiveness for arriving late to attend upon you, my Lord. We ask your gracious pardon."
Look at them talking like that to a baby who can't understand a word!
Heh. They've got it all figured out.
Pristine in bearing, without a single blemish to be found. And beyond that, their loyalty seemed genuinely deep.
"We cannot offer a proper replacement, but we have brought gifts for the young Lord."
"With our deepest affection—gifts we believe best befit the one who will one day lead our Blue Faith."
What the holy knights reverently produced was a gleaming golden statue.
Ooooh, actual gold—now these people get it!
Compared to those halfwits who hoarded the good meat among themselves even as fellow knights, it was heaven and earth apart—
"Ta-dah! Your very own Burning-at-the-Stake Skeleton King toy! Limited edition, real gold plating!"
"The hottest toy in the Empire right now! Look—press this button and the damned Skeleton King goes up in ashes! Fwoosh! Fwoosh!"
"Oh, and here's one where the Saintess smashes the Skeleton King to bits! Kaga-ga-ga! Clang! Clang!"
"Ah, the young Lord smiled! He must like them! Peek-a-boo, rumble-rumble!"
The Demon King's cheeks wriggled.
Goddammit. Holy knights are all the same.
Meanwhile, the Skeleton King's expression was curdling.
Because of the scene unfolding right before his eyes.
"Oh—oh, what an honor to see you again, Your Grace!"
"So, has the Imperial Knight Order been treating you well? Not causing His Majesty any trouble?"
"Y-yes, sir! N-no, not at all… probably!"
The imperial knights were bowing to the Eshua knights.
While grinning like idiots, no less.
How to put it—like watching a death-row inmate and his executioner.
So that explains it. No wonder those bastards were so unusually on my side.
For people he'd only just met, they'd been far too convinced he was the Saint, and far too hostile to the bishop—he'd wondered if their goodwill wasn't a bit excessive.
Turns out they were Eshua men all along.
Either knights originally of Eshua, or men who'd trained under them. So the Imperial Knight Order had dispatched them specially for his rescue?
Come to think of it, the imperial knights' gear did carry faint touches of blue—ornaments on their swords, that sort of thing.
Blue, huh.
Now that he thought of it, the divine faction had definitely been divided by color somehow.
The Blue Faith. The Red Faith. The White Faith. The Gold Faith. The Black Faith.
And the families commanding those faiths were the Five Great Ducal Houses, weren't they?
So these men belong to the Blue Faith, then.
He'd stopped bothering with humans and half forgotten, but the sight of the blue-clad Eshua brought it all flooding back.
Knight orders dressed in blue—incredibly strong ones, even measured against the other faiths.
His loyal servants used to go berserk at the mere sight of the color blue.
So judging by capability alone—first impressions alone, even—he did rather like them, except…
Why is everything they do so… off?
"Look, my Lord! See how the Skeleton King's head comes flying right off!"
"What do you think! Do you like it?"
It was deeply unsettling, the way their eyes lit up as they kept pressing upon him toys dedicated to his own murder. Maybe it was just his imagination, but these people seemed uniquely, dangerously obsessed with killing the Skeleton King.
What did I ever do to deserve a toy line, anyway?
Frankly, the injustice stung. He'd never razed the divine faction to the ground… damn it all, fine—he'd done it a hell of a lot.
Well, whose fault was it for attacking first and pissing me off?
He'd wiped out the papal army, after all. And the Saintess—who stood on nearly the same footing as the Saint herself—he'd sent back hanging, practically begging for her own death.
Hmm. Best to avoid the Saintess at all costs.
He fully intended to steer clear of her this life anyway—she and he were practically blood enemies.
And no wonder. The Saintess was something of a mad god—a weapon the gods, at the very limit of their patience, had forged for one purpose alone: the subjugation of the Skeleton King.
Born to erase him from existence, she and the Skeleton King had been cursed with enmity from the very first generation. Honestly, he'd done plenty of things to her that even he couldn't justify.
Which meant the grudge she bore him would run bone-deep.
Still, that part was fine. What was so strange about clergy hating the Demon King and wanting him dealt with?
No—the real problem lay elsewhere.
Someone had been watching him for a while now.
Not the clamoring priests, nor the halfwit(?) holy knights either.
That Crown Prince brat. Why has he been staring at me this whole time?
The black-haired Crown Prince standing beside the Emperor was the problem. Unlike the others, his gaze held no admiration—could he have been found out?
To be fair, he'd exercised plenty of caution, but he had used mana to send the bishop to the grave. Thanks to that, sweat was trickling down the Skeleton King's back in rivulets.
Desperate to escape the Crown Prince's gaze, the Skeleton King whimpered and buried himself in the arms of the female knight of Eshua.
At the sight, the Emperor looked profoundly wounded.
"And here I thought he was so fond of us just a moment ago."
Of course I was. You're the money tree!
The Skeleton King eyed the imperial father and son with open displeasure.
Look, the plan was to latch onto you people—but that was when you weren't coming to fetch me from home!
What was the point of living as an uncomfortable freeloader in a place that wasn't even his house?
But the Emperor showed no sign of giving up.
"We owe that child a great debt. I shall repay it to House Eshua directly, but—how about it? Tell them the royal house wishes to raise the boy as our own."
At that, the commander of the Eshua knights betrayed nothing on his face, yet something in him seemed to catch, and he looked up at the Emperor.
"Your Majesty. Your jest goes too far."
"It is no jest. That child will be hunted from both within and beyond the Holy Empire."
"!"
"Eshua is one of the Five Great Ducal Houses, of course. But can the Blue Faith as it stands truly protect that child?"
At those words, the Skeleton King's brow furrowed.
Hm? What was that supposed to mean?
Is he saying the family's in decline?
But that didn't seem to be it either—the Emperor's eyes flashed as they fixed on the Skeleton King's hair.
"The Pope, above all, will find that child most displeasing. And it appears the 'Skeleton King' has his eye on the child as well."
At the name Skeleton King, the holy knights—who hadn't so much as twitched at the Pope's name—turned frost-cold in an instant.
"If anything, mention of the Skeleton King sets Eshua's teeth on edge more than anyone's. You may yet cross paths with him again. Are you certain?"
Wait. What.
Don't tell me—these people actually had history with him?
But he didn't remember any of it?
…Could one of my subordinates have caused an incident?
Or had he been badly beaten by some dog-tier demon and disgraced? Even so, a demon capable of felling warriors like these would have to be terrifyingly strong, wouldn't he?
Well, it didn't matter who it was. Whoever the culprit, he could smash them to paste and avenge the family's honor. Not just smash—grind them to powder and drink them, for the glory of the house.
At the Emperor's provocation, the knight commander ground his teeth.
"We are not afraid. In a way, one might even call the Skeleton King our fated enemy."
Right, we did meet, and fate it was. Which means…
"Dealing with the Skeleton King is our sacred duty, after all."
…Hm?
No, hold on.
Why does my name come into this?
More importantly, that line—where had he heard it before??
Wasn't that the exact phrase that woman who'd come to subjugate him used to repeat constantly?
At that, the Emperor burst out laughing.
"True—should you face the Skeleton King's minions, Melissa would be overjoyed."
No no, wait just a moment.
That name is way too familiar?
Fifty years ago, surely—right before he'd gone to the God Realm.
Why did it match, exactly, the name of the Saintess—the very worst of the worst of all his enemies, the last one he'd ever faced?
"You will need the strength of the royal house regardless. So think it over carefully. Hand the child over, and we shall raise him no differently than the blood of our own line."
Oh, for—money tree, please!
I'd love to, truly, but shut your mouth for one second!
I need to figure out just who the hell my ancestor is!
And right at that moment—
CRASH!
The doors of the temple's reception room flew open.
Several knights drew their swords at the presumption, but the Emperor simply chuckled and waved them down.
The one who entered was a silver-haired young man of striking beauty.
"I could not simply let such a conversation pass, and so I enter without word of my arrival. Forgive me, Your Majesty—but I must say it. That child is the blood of Eshua."
"Sit, Lord Eshua. And here I thought no direct heir of the Saintess's line would come himself."
You have got to be kidding me!
was the Saintess's family all along?!
"Indeed. I could not entrust the Saintess's direct descendant to anyone else."
He's the Saintess's child, on top of everything?!
Wait—if they were the Saintess's house, fine, he could understand the reverence of the imperial citizens, and standing level with the Pope's family, sure!
"There is no need to worry, little one. We have heard everything. Even should you bear a curse, it matters not to us."
No, there IS need to worry! I'm the one who needs to worry!
"All is well. We are grateful simply that you were born. Your grandmother and your mother both said the same—that so long as you do not grow up like that heinous Skeleton King, nothing else matters."
"……"
The Skeleton King's eyebrows twitched.
Ha. Goddammit. Father, Mother—
I'm sorry to inform you that, the moment I was born, your son has apparently committed filial impiety against you both.