Is That All You've Got? (1)
《Beast-Bearing Summoning Circle》.
A holy summoning array for transporting living creatures. Isaac knew it well—it was a divine art commonly used by priests. Normally it served as a corridor for hauling filth like demon corpses, so no human ever rode it, let alone a priest. And a cardinal, queen of the clergy, a noble of the highest rank? Unthinkable.
And yet… he'd ridden it here personally.
What did that mean? It meant the Cardinal of Red was absolutely, comprehensively furious.
"Yeah… I bet he's pissed as hell. Puhhe—URK?!"
Isaac bit his tongue as someone's fist closed around his collar at that very moment. Not one person—two people had grabbed him by the collar simultaneously. On one side, the Cardinal of Red. On the other, Shuri… Shuri, of all people!
"IsaAAAC! You little—will you PLEASE stop poking the Red Faith every five minutes!!"
Why did he keep antagonizing the Red faction?! Shuri shook Isaac by the collar like he was trying to dust him clean, half in warning, half out of his mind with exasperation. Honestly, Shuri's reaction was only natural. The Red Faith was forever trying to drag House Eshua into a heresy trial to rack up achievements, and Isaac was a walking mountain of things to be hauled away in chains—apostasy of the worst kind to start with, then the Skeleton Demon King's bones, then a cursed hand on top. As far as Eshua was concerned, the Red faction was the enemy to avoid at all costs. No—seriously, was there a single priest alive who *enjoyed* entangling himself with Red? Unless you were out of your mind, you kept your distance from the faith of the Inquisition!
"But this little bastard—"
"Ack, okay, I'll stop. Ack, stop choking me. Don't cry."
The cardinal, perhaps regaining some composure, reverted to his usual insufferable tone.
"Isaac, my boy? What exactly were you thinking, bringing the Magic Empire's prince here?"
"What was I thinking? I gave him to you as a gift, Your Eminence. Thought he'd be useful."
At Isaac's words, the cardinal let out a hollow, derisive laugh. Useful? Did the brat just say useful?
Granted, the Cardinal of Red had been delighted at first.
"They may be after His Highness the Prince. The Red Faith specializes in interrogation—investigate their backers thoroughly."
When Isaac made the request, the cardinal had practically rubbed his hands together. Why? Well, why else? A chance to shake down the mages was precious beyond measure. And love them or hate them, the mages genuinely had been carrying weapons aimed at priests. There was more than enough cause for an investigation. Better still, the Cardinal of Red had a faint suspicion of who the mages' backer was.
'This is going to put Gold and Eshua in quite the awkward position, I'd say.'
The backers? Who else but the Pope's house and that fourth Eshua brat, scheming to cripple Isaac? The thought alone had kept a grin plastered on his face for days. With this, he could gut the two most exalted powers in the empire—Gold and Blue—in one stroke. Of course he was smiling.
'Isaac Eshua. What a foolish child. So blinded by achievements that he doesn't even notice his own house walking into danger, and he reaches out his hand to Red of all people.'
The Cardinal of Red smiled like a serpent, a smile that promised blood. He was a dangerous man—the kind who could send anyone to the stake with a smile on his face, be it his parents, his dearest friend, or his lover, so long as there was something to pin on them.
Red. 'The faith that protects the people by cutting out the enemy within.' The Red faithful believed the internal enemy far more dangerous than any external one. For them, only suspicion, resolve, and ruthless action mattered.
'Yes. This is worth trading for an audience with the Fourteen Six Demons—no, for something worth even more than that.'
True, the Blue brat had just foolishly sold out his own family to Red. No—he was supposed to have. And that was where things began to go catastrophically wrong.
The Red heresy interrogators working over the mages had very nearly died of pure frustration.
"Is this how the Holy Empire conducts interrogations?"
"…Pardon?"
"I asked whether the Empire was truly this barbaric!"
"With all due respect, Your Highness, we haven't actually done anything yet. We've only asked his na—"
"NOOO!! How DARE you ask for his name!! This country spits on basic human rights! Are ALL priests like this?!"
Ah… they should have realized something was off right then and there.
The moment they tried to begin the interrogation, the so-called prince of the Magic Empire started nitpicking every single thing they did. And whenever a question about Eshua so much as surfaced, the prince—who had been looking at them like they were insects—suddenly widened his eyes in outrage.
"How can you ask about Lord Isaac's family?? Have you priests no sense of honor whatsoever?!"
"The gall—asking about a son of House Blue!"
"You wretches! You're not fit to lick the boots of Lord Isaac, let alone understand his tastes!"
By that point, even Red had caught on. The cardinal too. Isaac Eshua was standing behind this prince. That was precisely why the Cardinal of Red couldn't help but grind his teeth.
'He requested a background investigation on purpose, didn't he.'
It had only ever been leverage—a stick to threaten Gold, the likely culprit—with. He never actually intended to hand over a real investigation. And there, watching the cardinal's expression darken, Isaac smiled his sweetest smile.
There, there. One look at that face and he could picture exactly how the Magic Empire's prince was behaving.
'He seemed clever enough that I worried he might start thinking for himself, but apparently he follows my instructions to the letter. How obedient of him.'
Isaac's true aim, of course, had been to check Gold. Those people hadn't clung to their crown for thousands of years for nothing. House Gold shared blood with the imperial family—descended from the First Emperor's own brother. Bloodline, political base, raw ability: everything about them was ironclad and untouchable. It was no accident that people called Kina a second prince.
'They're not the sort to be wounded by an ordinary strike.'
So the wall had to be cracked—nibbled here, blown open there—until the soft flesh beneath showed. The Red patriarch understood that perfectly, which was exactly what galled him.
'This brat dares to use us?'
And yet he had no intention of refusing Isaac's proposal. Why? Because if it worked—if it truly worked—they might finally force Gold to its knees before them. Gold, whom no one had ever dared lay a finger on!
But that was that, and this was this.
The cardinal fixed Isaac with a look like a viper about to strike.
"You're not thinking of just letting this slide, are you? Seeing my subordinates harmed isn't a pleasure, boy. It's an offense."
Those frost-cold eyes demanded compensation. Isaac smiled like a fox playing dumb.
"Why, Your Eminence, you don't look the least bit displeased. If anything, I'd say you're having a wonderful time. Don't you savor even your subordinates' suffering?"
At those words, the corner of the Red patriarch's mouth—until now curved in gentlemanly courtesy—slid slowly upward. And in that instant, Shuri felt pure terror wash over him.
"How strange. No one has ever found out before. Did the Blue patriarch tell you?"
"…!"
The air changed. He was smiling, but his eyes weren't smiling at all. It was like coming face-to-face with a murderer who could kill a man without blinking. Shuri's breath caught in his throat, and before he knew it, his trembling fingers were clutching the hem of Isaac's clothes. The cardinal's eyes narrowed to slits—he looked ready to drag the two of them off somewhere deserted and bury them on the spot.
"Erasing a single apprentice is hardly worth calling a task. So who was it that told you?"
The crushing holy power of a 9th-Tier began pressing down on every priest in the room. 'Urk.' Asili and Shuri both swallowed dryly, pinned by the pressure, unable to lift their heads. Ash, who had bolted the moment the cardinal appeared, had probably fainted somewhere outside by now.
But Isaac—the only one still holding his head high—just laughed like the whole thing was beneath him.
So that's what this is about. Like anyone would need to tell me.
Does he think I don't know how many cardinals I've seen in my day?
'Every Red patriarch, for generations, has been a complete psycho.'
Did this one think he tortured people and fed them to the fire while in his right mind? By the time one of them rose to lead the faith, they had no emotions left at all. They might smile all day long, but their eyes never once laughed—proof enough of that.
Isaac snorted.
"If you enjoyed yourself so much, then pay up. You haven't forgotten, have you?"
The counterattack caught the Cardinal of Red off guard. He'd meant to bend that insolently upright little neck, to make the brat learn his place—and the boy withstood it? The cardinal reached out as if to wring Isaac's throat.
"So Blue teaches its children to gamble with their lives, does it?"
"…!"
Sensing the killing intent, Asili lunged forward to intervene. Dangerous. If this kept up—
Clatter.
"!"
The Cardinal of Red held out a single badge. It was a pass granting entry to the Holy See's prison. As he offered it, he smiled, thick with meaning.
"Not that I mind giving it to you. But did Isaac, my boy, truly take down that magic beast himself?"
"!"
They had confirmed the beast during the investigation. And that beast had been one of the demon race wanted for the tragedy fourteen years ago.
"No apprentice could possibly have captured it."
In other words: weren't you colluding with the demon, boy?
But Isaac just beamed at him.
"That's a trade secret of House Blue. Red is so hopelessly inept at capturing demons that I suppose you wouldn't know. Then again, that is why your son got thrown out of Blue."
"ISAAAAAC!!!"
Shuri buried his face in his hands, and the cardinal barked out a laugh. This audacious little—??
Isaac plucked the badge straight out of the Red patriarch's hand, quick as you like—hand it over already. Couldn't have the fickle old snake changing his mind again. 'With this, I can reach my subordinate.' It was indispensable for smuggling his man out during the execution ceremony.
The moment Isaac snatched it away, the Red patriarch regarded him with something like regret—the face of a man who would have dragged him off long ago, if only he had proof. But the moment passed, and the cardinal gave a short, amused huff.
"Well. I can arrest you at the moment of your divine contract, so there's no great rush."
Shuri froze solid at those words. Had he figured out Isaac's faith?!'Damn it, and I heard the god who chose him was barely even a Lower God—!'
"But first you'll have to survive the Gold Pentagon. Do give it your best."
The Cardinal of Red looked at something far beyond Isaac, spoke those words, and vanished.
Isaac scowled in open displeasure.
"Why does that bastard keep talking like we're obviously going to wash out of Gold? We succeeded at the mission."
But the cardinal had his reasons for saying it. There really was someone, at that very moment, gnashing his teeth at the sight of Isaac.
'Damn it, he actually came back ALIVE!'
The man in question was Molech—the spy who had wormed his way onto the Blue team. He'd sneered that Blue was marching off to its grave, then defected wholesale to the Gold team. Now his jaw was clenched tight.
'Son of a— the Gold Pentagon scores you on the trophies you bring back!'
The Gold team had swaggered around congratulating themselves on being the best, of course, but Molech—who had come to watch with his own eyes—was biting his nails. Could anyone blame him?
'They captured a magic beast THEMSELVES? Are they insane?!'
That was, without question, the top score. Blue would win the whole thing. And having betrayed Blue, the situation was dire for Molech—his father, Count Molech, had spent the past weeks tearing into Blue in front of every noble who would listen. If Blue won? If they triumphed?
'Damn it.'
But it would be fine. 'No trophies, no passing grade. That's all it takes.'
Nothing was decided until judgment day—anything could still happen at the very last moment. Knowing this, Molech moved quickly.
'If I delegate to the others, word might leak where it shouldn't.'
Fortunately, there was a perfectly exploitable group at hand. Reliable in skill, and even more reliable when it came to disposing of evidence. The people Molech sought out were drinking not far away.
Clatter!
"!"
The pouch of coins Molech tossed down landed before—of all people—the Flayers.
"I hear you lot had quite the rumble with the Blue team out at their mission site."
"!"
"I'll give you your chance to shine. This is an advance. Deliver, and you'll be paid far better than this."
The Flayers despised priests, but they loved money. Proof enough: even the Flayers went still at the sight of Molech's purse. The sum was staggering—more gold than any of them would earn in a lifetime.
"What's the job?"
"Burn the head and the core of the magic beast the Blue team brought back. Make the evidence disappear."
At those words, the Flayers' captain curled his lips into a slow smile.
"Ah… make it disappear, you say?"
"That's right. You hate priests' guts anyway, don't you?"
Shiiing—
A moment later came the hiss of steel. The blade's edge pointed at Molech's throat. The Flayers grinned, a smile cold enough to raise the dead, as if to say: you dare rattle that tongue at us?
"So—which of the two of us is the thing that's about to disappear?"
…I'm sorry, what?
"You rat. Daring to lay hands on Young Master Isaac's property?"
…I'm sorry, WHAT??