I Just Wanted to Live Quietly
I just wanted to live quietly.
It was roughly a week after parting ways with the Saintess that Juhan first sensed something was off.
What is this…?
The atmosphere in the village was changing. Or, more precisely, it felt as though the very air flowing around him had begun to twist in some subtle, unnerving way.
The first shift he noticed was in the soldiers.
They feel locked down. Full military discipline.
There was no trace left of the weakness or laziness they had shown before.
"Form a proper line!"
"You—why are you carrying this?"
"Unpack your bags. We're checking everything."
Even the village gate, where people had once come and gone without a second glance, was now under thorough inspection. The inconvenience weighed on the villagers, and that tension was already spreading through the whole settlement—the feeling that something was about to happen.
It was only natural that complaints started spilling from people's mouths.
"What's gotten into them lately?"
"Are we about to go to war or something?"
Of course, no one knew the real reason. Day by day, the soldiers' searches and controls only grew stricter.
Among all of it, the change that most convinced Juhan that something was wrong was the appearance of the Holy Knights.
They had come with the Saintess and then left Anton Village entirely under Velkras's lead. And yet, for some reason, the number of Holy Knights inside the village kept rising with each passing day.
Then, one day later, a rumor slipped free and shook the entire village.
"They say Baron Anton has been detained."
"What? Then what happens to our village?"
"I even heard he's already been taken to the Holy Kingdom under escort."
Word was that the lord of the territory where Juhan was staying—the Anton Baronry—had been arrested. In his own domain, the man had wielded power nearly equal to a king's. Who would dare seize him so easily?
The answer came in the next man's words.
"An Executor has come."
"What? You mean an Executor of the Holy Kingdom?"
An Executor is here?
A rumor of uncertain origin claimed that an Executor of the Holy Kingdom had arrived in Anton Village. Juhan knew of them well enough. Lately he had been looking into the Holy Kingdom's ranks and inner workings, its recent public ceremonies—everything he could find.
If it's an Executor, then…
The first thing the description had brought to mind was the office of an Inquisitor. Officially, they were said to handle heresy trials and the enforcement of Holy Kingdom law. In practice, people said, that was not the half of it. They took on far more than that—especially the ugly work no one else wanted.
And above all else—
Once they move, they always produce a result.
For a group based in the Holy Kingdom, their reputation was remarkably poor. Some called them the justice of God. Others called them God's hunting dogs. One thing, however, was certain: if the Executors of the Holy Kingdom had been set in motion, the matter was already far beyond ordinary.
And that very night—the same night Juhan heard the rumor that Holy Kingdom Executors had reached Anton Village—
Knock, knock.
"……"
A group of strangers came to the room where he was staying. It was late. At that hour, simply calling on someone was considered an offense.
Creak.
Juhan opened the door. The figures standing there were not ones he would have easily predicted.
"Are you Juhan?"
A middle-aged man in a black coat, the scar cutting across his forehead impossible to miss. Behind him stood two others with blank expressions—but what truly caught Juhan's eye was someone else entirely.
"Father?"
"Th-that's him… yes."
A face he remembered. The man standing behind them was the priest who had been with Juhan the day the cathedral bell rang from the rooftop.
"……"
Seeing the priest trembling with anxiety, Juhan's eyes narrowed for a moment. He already had a clear sense that something serious was about to unfold.
"What is this about…"
"On the day the cathedral bell rang—were you the young man who was with this priest?"
The man cut straight to the point. Juhan quietly nodded. They had brought a witness; any clumsy denial would only make things worse.
"Yes. That's right."
"We're investigating everyone who was at the scene that day."
His voice was flat, as if he were not interrogating a criminal at all, but simply making ordinary conversation. That very indifference only sharpened the other party's wariness.
Showing the Guardian's token… probably wouldn't work on these people.
The man, of course, seemed not to care in the slightest about anyone else's mood or thoughts.
Rustle.
He simply drew something from inside his coat.
"I'd like your cooperation for a moment."
A black metal plate the size of a palm, its surface engraved with intricate, unreadable patterns.
"…What is that?"
"I have no intention of explaining. Just put your hand on it."
Showing up unannounced at this hour and ordering him to obey without question—it was pure high-handedness. Did this man feel not the slightest guilt for what he was doing?
And there was something more important still.
…These people came looking for me with real certainty.
The men standing before him had sought him out as if they already knew something. That much seemed clear.
"……"
Countless thoughts flashed through Juhan's mind. For those few short seconds he simply stared at the metal plate without answering, and the man's brow furrowed slightly, as if to ask what he was waiting for.
Slowly.
At last, as if he had made his decision, Juhan raised his hand—as if he meant to place it on the plate just as ordered.
"……"
"……"
Everyone around him held their breath, watching the moment his hand approached the plate. Which was why they failed to notice.
Saaa—
It was not his hand, but his eyes, that quietly filled with a dark crimson light.
In a span no longer than a blink—right before his fingertips truly touched the metal—
Wuum—
The entire plate began to tremble faintly in response.
And in that same instant, as Juhan's eyes, now pure black, swept across their faces—
…?
He found himself puzzled. They were not looking at him.
"……"
They had turned their heads, staring past his shoulder toward something beyond the window. Their widened pupils were no longer fixed on Juhan at all.
Far away—truly far from this room. When Juhan turned his own head in that direction, he finally understood the cause.
This is…
A presence all too familiar. The power he had toyed with like a plaything for a thousand years was seeping out—only a little, but unmistakably. Almost as if it were calling him to come find it.
"……"
And for some reason, from that same direction, he thought he could see a silhouette.
One far too familiar—the form of a four-headed dragon.
"Karun! Karun!"
"Yes."
"Were you thinking about some other woman again?"
"I was not."
"Tch… Liar."
Inside a lavishly appointed room—the reception hall that might as well have been the heart of the Verhart Baronry—Karun was pushing away a young lady who clung to him with the air of a man thoroughly inconvenienced.
"No, last time you definitely were. You kept looking at the young lady from House Zera."
"I only glanced at her for a moment."
"And this time the young lady from House Patalun said she wanted to meet you, too. What on earth did you do…"
Chatter, chatter.
It was not as though any particular emotion drove him to push her away. He was simply managing the proper distance needed to keep her more effectively under his control.
Carrot and stick. The right amount of distance.
Since parting from Juhan, Karun had been gathering information on his own—the current state of famous powerhouses and various kingdoms, and of the Church as well.
The ruins the followers of the Great Catastrophe supposedly used weren't worth the trip.
He put Juhan's orders first, then ranked everything else by his own priorities and acted accordingly.
"So from now on…"
In that regard, this young lady was rather useful. Even without Karun saying a word, she prattled on and on as if desperate simply to keep talking to him.
"The political situation has been so unsettled lately, and yet you don't seem worried at all, Karun."
"The political situation?"
"Yes. The Holy Kingdom has been in quite an uproar."
At the word "Church" from her lips, Karun merely raised an eyebrow, inviting her to continue.
"Well~ it's an open secret, but I still can't go around telling just anyone."
Perhaps she had read his expression. The young lady spread her hands wide toward him, as if demanding he give her what she wanted. If he wanted to hear more, he was to stroke her hair at once.
No doubt she had gone out of her way to dig up this information because Karun had been showing interest in current affairs—hoping for praise.
Stroke, stroke.
As if rewarding her for a job well done, Karun slowly stroked the young lady's head.
"…Ah."
If the head of House Verhart had seen the scene, he might have collapsed from sheer apoplexy—but neither of them cared in the least.
"Something really does seem to have happened in the Holy Kingdom—in the Church."
"In the Holy Kingdom."
"A great many Holy Knights moved, and even Executors."
"Executors?"
"It would be stranger if rumors didn't spread. Or rather, it almost looks as if they want the rumors to trickle out little by little."
She was already guessing that even the Holy Kingdom's quiet movements served some political purpose.
"We're going this far—are you kingdoms really going to just sit there? Something like that, don't you think?"
Of course, the young lady herself did not seem particularly concerned as she said it. As if it had nothing to do with her. Or perhaps, with accurate information not yet circulating, she simply preferred not to worry about it.
So the Executors are moving…
Karun filed it away for later. He had no intention of acting on it immediately. In everything he did, the highest priority was always how his actions would affect Juhan. Gathering information mattered, but not causing problems mattered even more. For now, he meant to let it pass. He had planned to spend the afternoon with this young lady.
"Although…"
—if not for the last thing she murmured almost to herself.
"Where did they say they were going? Not too far from here, but not that close either…"
She paused, as if trying to recall, then smiled at Karun as the answer came to her.
"That's right—Anton. The Anton Baronry, was it? I've never been there myself."
The place they were heading for was the Anton Baronry—where Juhan was staying. She said it lightly, with a smile, as if it were nothing of importance. As if there were still no real need for them to worry.
"……"
But the moment he heard the word Anton, the expression gradually drained from Karun's face.