What Did You Just Say? (5)
The Blue Faith….
Of the Five Great Faiths, alongside the White, it was the most honest and the most averse to injustice. Where the White weighed peace, the Blue weighed chivalry above all else — men who, even with a blade at their own throats, would never so much as raise a weapon against an unarmed opponent.
Even the mages knew all too well just how obsessively the men of Blue clung to their code of honor….
Yes… surely they were men who loved children and stood for the weak….
"You bastards! Can't you hear me?! Do you seriously think it's fine if this brat's head goes flying, huh?!"
Seriously. What the hell. A priest of the Blue Faith was holding a knife to a child's throat and making threats!
Forget disgracing the Blue — shouldn't we question whether this man even qualified as a priest before we questioned anything else?! He acted exactly like some demon spawn….
"That's not the problem here! Why is His Highness standing over there, of all places!"
Look again, and again, and there was no mistaking him — Hiberius, the youngest prince of the Magic Empire.
And the problem was that prince himself.
A priest was threatening his life with a blade? Then surely, at the very least, he should have been thinking of escape. So why in the world was he letting a mere priest hold him captive without casting a single spell?!
He's no holy knight, but there's no way he couldn't subdue one priest.
Small as he was, he was the kind of man who could bring grown warriors to their knees all on his own.
Which meant only one thing….
He's definitely been taken hostage — they've got some weakness on him!
The mages' eyes changed. Carlos in particular, who had already crossed paths with Isaac, was a man acquainted with the prince himself.
The prince, unable to subdue a single priest? Just how dire an emergency was this?
We have to help him.
At Carlos's signal, the mages in the rear vanished one by one into concealment magic. High-ranking priests rivaled mages in both offensive power and detection, but at best, these priests were mere apprentices.
A 6th Tier mage's stealth spell would be more than enough.
And sure enough, the mages moving in secret reached the prince's side in a single breath. Apprentice or not, these were still men of the Blue, forever dueling against magecraft — their senses would be sharp. So even under stealth, they took care, hiding themselves in the brush.
Then, in a voice only bearers of mana could hear, they urgently called out to the prince.
"…Your Highness! Over here! Take our hands!"
Desperate hands reached out toward the prince. One grip, and they could whisk him away to safety with teleportation.
"Your Highness!"
But the little prince, having heard them perfectly well, only clung to Isaac all the tighter, like an inchworm. Legs and all — a koala in everything but name.
And then, of all things, he said….
"Ye bashtards! Can't even shave one prince, and whadd'ye do all day?! An' ye call yer-shel-shelves mages of the great empire?!"
Your Highness…?!!
The flustered stealth mages waved their outstretched hands frantically.
"Here! We're over here!"
"That's it — take our hands!!"
But at the sight of the stealth mages, the prince only burrowed deeper into Isaac's arms. No — having latched onto the boy like a leech, he actually kicked away the stealth mages as they drew near.
Thwack! Thwack!
And then….
"Ye bashta-a-ards!!!! Why can't ye hurry up an' shave me! Ye deteshtable bashtards!"
No! Your Highneeeess!
I'm losing my mind here!
The mages collectively short-circuited. …What on earth was this situation?
But there was no way Isaac hadn't caught every word of their exchange, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smirk.
"Now then — understood? Drop the magic cores and back off!"
"Ye bashtards!! Why aren't ye backing off!!"
…
…Damn it all. Fine. Noted, loud and clear — the prince has gone over to that little demon's side.
No idea what he finds so entertaining about a priest of all people, but there was nothing to be done.
He is the future of our empire.
A once-in-a-millennium genius who could stand against the imperial household of the Holy Empire and its Divine Dragons. A great mage destined to take the head of Chablis — the strongest swordsman of the coming generation and heir to the imperial throne.
"Very well. We'll do as you say. Everything we carry is yours — release His Highness."
One by one, they laid their belongings and weapons down. And at the sight of goods that positively reeked of money, Isaac's eyes curved into delighted half-moons. Heheh.
"And the little fact that you tried to attack us? I'll pass that along to your empire ever so carefully."
Carlos flinched. One wrong step and this escalated into a full-blown diplomatic incident. He had to correct course, and fast.
"I believe there's been some misunderstanding. We were merely hunting demons—"
Sshk.
Isaac slid the blade right back against the prince's throat.
"You were 'hunting demons' — and you drew weapons meant for killing priests?"
…You're the one drawing them, though?
"Get mad if you want. Go collect the corpses, by all means. Tell them, 'We thought he was just one of the mages who attacked us.'"
Commander Carlos of the Magic Empire ground his teeth to dust. …Damn that little brat!
Priests and holy knights — clergy of every stripe — trained in a vast range of knowledge. They had to stand against the endlessly shifting demons, and respond to every manner of ailment with skill and flexibility.
In a word: they were people who had seen some very strange things.
But even they had never seen anything like this.
"Puhehe!! Magic cores!!!"
…A priest who lit up at the sight of magic cores.
"Magic cores! Magic cores! Magic coooores!"
And now the little beast is doing a tap dance in front of the magic cores….
The boy who loved money more than anything wouldn't even glance at the mages' belongings — but he'd plant a kiss on a magic core…?
Team Blue stood frozen, watching Isaac lay magic cores upon the altar and bow to them, utterly unable to get a word out. And small wonder — to the clergy, a magic core was nothing more, and nothing less, than a rock.
"…How are we supposed to explain this?"
"…Well, magic cores are worth money, I suppose."
"…Or maybe that's just how Blue folk are? Some kind of medal, or a symbol of honor?"
"Ohh… Truly the guardian of Blue. Honoring the glory of our faith."
But the guardian of Blue in question was busy wiping drool from his chin.
Kyaaaah! NOW that's a Magic Empire magic core!
Damn! THIS is it! Doesn't even compare to those rock lumps back at Blue! Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had top-shelf quality like this?!
Not that the ones at Blue were useless, exactly — but those brats stored them like absolute garbage!
So here's the thing. Even with the same cut of meat, there's fresh, premium-grade beef… and there's rotten meat, or the gristle even a dog wouldn't eat.
And everything I'd been fed in the Holy Empire — no marbling, pathetically little of it, and on top of that, rotten meat crawling with maggots!
But THIS? Freshly stored, prime-cut, still-warm meat! Who wouldn't be happy to finally eat a real meal, huh?! HUH?!
Seriously, that godawful Holy Empire — ten whole years, do you know how much I….
"…Ahem. Ahemm."
Only then did Isaac remember his comrades were watching, and force the corners of his mouth back down.
But while Team Blue looked at him like he was a bug, Prince Hiberius of the Magic Empire reacted very differently.
"Hoo, I knew it — you're a man of real taste, big brother! The magic cores of the Magic Empire are on a whole different dimension from anything the Holy Empire could scrape together! Can't you tell just by looking? The luster, the aroma, the marbling! The grade is simply on another level!"
Every gaze that had been regarding Isaac like a bug swung over to the prince.
And yet the prince looked genuinely moved. He was supposed to be on his way back to the Holy Empire — but he had no intention whatsoever of going back.
"Ha… I thought the Holy Empire was nothing but trash who couldn't even store a magic core properly. To think there was a man like this in Blue! As expected of the devout, magnificent faith whose character is beyond compare!"
…You absolute lunatic.
That devout Blue was trying to take you hostage, kid. And honestly, these people are starting to worry me… they scare me.
But the prince, having no way of knowing Blue's inner turmoil, grabbed Isaac's hand tight.
"Big brother! Just say the word — anything! When I return to the capital, Blue shall be richly rewarded! Hella is… well, not to my taste, but if it's where you are, big brother, I suppose I can overlook a thing or two!"
So that was why a prince of all people had let himself be taken hostage —
He actually likes Isaac….
Well, it made sense in its way. The youngest prince, Hiberius, was a genius mage groomed for succession even within the Magic Empire.
And yet this time, he'd been helpless in a magic beast's grip.
And Isaac had dealt with it! All by himself, a brother barely older than he was! To a young prince, wasn't that the very kind of valor that inspired worship?
Well, purely in terms of magic, Isaac — who had once reached the 10th Tier — was the overwhelming superior, after all.
"Big brother! Have you ever considered naturalizing to the Magic Empire? We would treat you very well!"
Thanks to which, Shuri was sweating buckets. Setting aside Isaac's pitch-black ulterior motives entirely, he had no idea how the Crown Prince of the Holy Empire would take all this.
The Crown Prince was clearly well-disposed toward Isaac — the man had gifted clothes to Blue, of all things.
And now, of all people, the prince of their enemy nation was making his move.
If Isaac ever actually became the Saint, the geopolitical fallout would be absolutely catastrophic….
Well… with Kina around, it won't be so easy.
Love her or hate her, she was the strongest Saint candidate at present, and politically speaking, the race for the next Pope had already narrowed to Kina.
Not that I have any intention of losing, of course.
The other Saint candidates were in the same boat. The rites of sainthood had yet to be held, and none of the candidates had yet contracted with a god. Only time would tell….
"Damn the Holy Empire to hell! Die, die, die! Magic cores forever! Puhehe!!!"
…Ah. I think one rival just eliminated himself, though.
But that wasn't what mattered right now. Wearing a grave expression, Shuri seized Isaac.
"Are you really going to tell the Lord of the House that the Fourth Uncle sent those mages?"
Yes — this was the real problem.
From the mages, they'd recovered the evidence — blades lethal to priests — and Isaac intended to report it.
A priest who used magic was liable for execution, which meant using mages to try to kill priests was very nearly taboo as well. Wasn't this a blatant strike at the Fourth Uncle himself?
But Isaac just smirked.
"Obviously. Gotta get rid of my competition, don't I?"
At that, Shuri looked at him with genuine worry.
"If you don't, you are seriously screwed! You haven't met the family yet, so you don't get it… but the Fourth Uncle is no joke. If he goes after an innocent man without a shred of evidence, then you—"
I'm sorry, what was that? Innocent man?
Isaac snorted.
"Those mages we ran into the other day called us the 'direct descendants' of Eshua — plural. So tell me, how exactly did that mage recognize us?"
Shuri wondered what he was getting at, and sighed.
"You know as well as I do that Eshua folk are conspicuous. You saw Cousin Leah the other day — peerless beauty, impossible to miss. Even you're silver-…."
"That's right — I am rather handsome, aren't I? One look at this gorgeous face and anyone could tell."
No. I was about to say your hair color practically glows from a mile away, you—
"But you, Sneaky Shuri? You don't."
…You little bastard, what did you just call me??
"Brown hair, not silver. Bright, sure, but it doesn't scream Eshua on sight. And your face is, well… considerably worse than mine."
Should I beat this kid to a pulp??
"Anyway — there's no way the mages knew an Eshua was mixed in among the apprentice priests. It was the Fourth who arranged it."
Well, in truth, Isaac had put Ash to work reading the memories of the swords — but since no magic had technically been cast….
Come to think of it, the story had probably spread far enough by now. The head of the house did promise to formally acknowledge the heir once they returned from the Gold Pentagon.
He was terrified of the succession passing to his nephews.
Meanwhile, Shuri wore the expression of a man taking a hammer square to the face.
Sure, the Fourth might resent them over the succession. But their own uncle, trying to kill them?
"The Fourth isn't of the Saintess's blood — he's of the Pope's. He and Goel are full brothers. There's a very good chance he joined hands with the Gold Faith while they were running the Gold Pentagon."
…
Shuri's jaw dropped.
No, wait. Sure, he's only half-blood to you, but he's my full-blooded uncle!
Isaac gripped Shuri's shoulder tight, grinning at the trembling of his pupils — a grin that crawled straight down the spine.
"Aaand that's exactly the problem. Your dear uncle just tried to kill you. If you were him, would you sit still, knowing you'd very nearly died? He'd tear the whole house apart."
"He doesn't know about any of this yet, so how would he tear anyth… wait."
You didn't.
What did you send, you little—
Isaac went puheheheh.
"Blue, Gold, the imperial family, the Holy See. I'd bet the whole lot of them are in an uproar right about now?"
And far away, the shape of the Holy Empire of Hella began to come into view.