A New Connection (4)
"My master used to be a heretic inquisitor. By any chance, do you happen to know Bishop Saul?"
When things grew awkward, nothing beat the power of school ties, regional bonds, or family connections. The only card I had to play with this person was my master.
"Is Bishop Saul truly your master?"
As expected! It landed perfectly. The heretic inquisitor, who had stuck strictly to short answers until now, gave a lengthy response and even showed genuine interest.
"It seems you do know him."
"He's not someone I could fail to know. I wanted to receive his teachings, but by the time I began my training, he had already retired, so I never had the chance."
I remembered how he used to brag about how formidable he had been in his prime. I'd always dismissed it as typical old-man "back in my day" talk, but hearing it from someone freshly appointed as a heretic inquisitor forced me to admit that my master's stories hadn't been exaggerations.
"I had no idea he had taken on a disciple after retiring."
A spark of life began returning to eyes that had looked half-dead and dull. For someone whose reactions were barely perceptible, this faint show of vitality told me I'd picked the right topic.
"It's true he told me to call him Master, but our relationship has some unusual aspects that set it apart from a typical master-disciple bond."
From what I'd heard, most people described the master-disciple relationship as akin to parent and child. Of course, if the master had many disciples, it might feel more like a university professor and their graduate students. But the connection between me and Master was...
Like a bored neighborhood uncle who keeps poking at the local kid, makes them cry, then hands over a piece of candy to smooth things over.
That captured it pretty well. He'd insist I call him Master, torment me under the guise of doing me a favor, then toss me a book as if bestowing some great mercy. He never seemed to mind if I passed on the knowledge he'd given me.
That was exactly why I'd shared the knowledge from his books with the fledgling healers.
"That is certainly strange. To be his disciple yet not walk the path of a heretic inquisitor."
"Perhaps because he's so versatile, he gave me extensive guidance in the healing arts as well."
He had told me that if I wanted to learn about heretic inquisitors, I should find another teacher. I'd replied that I had no need for that and asked him to teach me healing techniques instead.
It's an undeniable fact that I became the youngest chief healer thanks to Master.
Of course, it was also true that I succeeded because I was quick-witted and capable. A good teacher didn't automatically produce a good student.
"I see."
Curiosity about my master still lingered in her eyes, but any interest in me as a person seemed to have faded. Even though Master hadn't done a thing, it somehow felt like a subtle defeat. Still, I hadn't come away empty-handed. At least now I knew the seemingly emotionless inquisitor wasn't completely detached from the world.
After she polished off the extra-large bowl of noodles, broth and all, I led her to the temporary lodging.
"Please stay here just for tonight. Tomorrow I'll show you to proper accommodations."
"Staying here longer is fine."
"Goodness, that won't do at all. I can't possibly let you remain in a place like this."
This was little more than a break room with a bed and table. It was cramped, and the bathroom was abysmal. My conscience pricked at me for even considering making her spend a single night here.
"If I could have my way, I'd let you stay in my own quarters for the night, but..."
Since the heretic inquisitor was a woman, that was out of the question. There were clear boundaries between men and women, after all. Inviting a woman I'd just met to a bachelor's lodgings would be terribly rude.
"It's fine. I can stay there. If it's not inconvenient for you."
Her clipped, matter-of-fact words landed like a bomb.
"Pardon?"
"I said that if sharing quarters with me wouldn't inconvenience you, there's no need to prepare a separate room. Any space where I can sleep and eat will suffice. Something like this is adequate."
"...Even so, that wouldn't be right. I'll arrange proper lodging as soon as dawn breaks."
Her complete lack of hesitation left me flustered.
"When will we enter the Labyrinth?"
"It looks like the Labyrinth will take some more time. There are complications on that end."
"Understood. Call for me when the schedule is set. I'll remain on standby until then."
"Uh... yes."
It seemed becoming close with the heretic inquisitor—no, with Sister Melody—was going to be quite difficult. She didn't strike me as someone who would warm up after just a day or two together.
In that case...
I'll just have to meet her more often until we grow closer.
I wasn't ignoring the personality differences, but if we were going to face life-and-death situations together, I couldn't let us remain uncomfortable around each other.
Actually, it's more important for our own team to bond than for us to get close to Sister Melody.
Suddenly I wondered how Princess Reciel viewed this situation. Since she belonged to the privileged class herself, maybe she saw no issue with it? After all, she wasn't exactly the type to chat frequently with the team members either.
In that sense...
I wasn't expecting a mood-maker, but it would have been nice if someone more cheerful had come.
Instead, the heretic inquisitor who'd arrived was even more reserved than expected. She didn't seem like she'd help ease the current atmosphere at all.
"What exactly do heretic inquisitors do?"
"They judge heretics, right?"
"It's not like heretics are all that common."
"They travel around searching for them. And occasionally carry out judgment, from what I've heard."
The arrival of a heretic inquisitor became a major topic among the priests. Since there weren't many of them, quite a few priests were seeing one for the first time. Everyone knew they were formidable, but few understood exactly why, which only fueled the curiosity.
"Is that all?"
"They're doing the most difficult work there is!"
"If it's such difficult work, shouldn't they publicize it to build their reputation? Yet hardly anything about them is known."
"It's standard practice to avoid mentioning incidents involving heretics or demons as much as possible. There's nothing to gain by spreading such information widely, is there?"
That was precisely why heretic inquisitors received such respect and special treatment. Despite their thankless, hidden labors never becoming public knowledge, they devoted their entire lives without complaint.
"Try not to stare too much, and be as kind as possible. I think you'll get the general idea," Priest Chillan advised the fledgling healers.
"I'd like to get to know her, but would it be rude to approach her?"
All eyes turned to me—the only one who had actually spoken with the heretic inquisitor.
"I know everyone is curious, but I'd appreciate it if you refrained from asking too many questions. She seems to keep matters related to her work very close to the chest. Bombarding her with questions would probably make her uncomfortable."
"Questions prohibited!!" Priest Ando immediately shouted so everyone could hear.
The priests looked disappointed but seemed to accept my words.
"I've only met her for a few hours, so I can't claim to know everything, but she appears to be a quiet person. Drawing too much attention probably isn't wise. Please approach her carefully."
"Yes!"
"Yeees~"
"Have the quarters been arranged?"
"Yes!! I found the widest, cleanest, south-facing room available! It's been cleaned, and we're currently setting out the bedding and daily necessities."
The heretic inquisitor still hadn't appeared, likely exhausted from her long journey. The priests, having heard about last night's events from me, had bustled about preparing proper lodgings for her. Priest Chillan had made such a fuss—insisting that no matter how sudden her arrival, we couldn't possibly let such an honored guest sleep in such poor conditions—that it left everyone flustered.
Both Priest Chillan and Priest Ando seemed to find heretic inquisitors both fascinating and unfamiliar.
"Even at the central church, heretic inquisitors are rarely seen."
They existed everywhere yet remained invisible. The main reason priests feared their appearance was...
"She's not here to investigate our temple, is she?"
It was because of the audit and judgment authority they possessed.
To heretics they must seem like grim reapers, and to us, like secret inspectors.
So even though the inquisitor had been dispatched to protect me, it was understandable that Priests Chillan and Ando were making such a commotion.
"Even if she conducts an audit, it's not like any major trouble will arise. Why are you all so afraid?"
"I truly envy your natural boldness, Priest Arthur."
"Living without a single shameful spot under heaven is no easy feat."
Their words left me dumbfounded.
Have they committed some corruption I don't know about?
Or was this simply the universal tension anyone felt when a police car followed them from behind, even when they'd done nothing wrong?
"There she comes."
At that moment, the heretic inquisitor our priests had been eagerly awaiting finally appeared.
"Sister, did you sleep well last night?" I approached first and asked after her well-being.
"Yes. Thanks to you, I rested comfortably. The bed was so comfortable that I overslept for the first time in a while."
What surprised me was that her answer was much longer than the ones she'd given last night. Her expression remained somewhat stiff, though.
"The priests of our temple wanted to greet you, so we've gathered here. I hope this isn't inconvenient?"
"Not at all. I'll be relying on all of you from now on."
"Ahem!! Greetings, Sister. I am Chief Priest Chillan."
"I am Chief Priest Ando."
"Yes. I am Cleric Melody."
Everyone knew she was a heretic inquisitor, yet she introduced herself simply as a cleric.
So real heretic inquisitors really do conceal their identities.
Fascinating. And I wasn't the only one who thought so—the fledgling healers' eyes sparkled with curiosity. If I hadn't warned them beforehand to refrain from asking too many questions, they probably would have buried her under an avalanche of inquiries by now.