Baptism (2)
The southern grand expedition headed by the Margrave of Biswald, which had dragged on for two years, drew to an ambiguous close.
It had begun when the monster population in the south swelled to unnatural numbers. A large-scale expedition force was assembled with the narrow aim of thinning those numbers and the broader one of uncovering the cause and tearing it out by the root.
At first, things went well. Large expeditions of that scale were rare enough that the sheer weight of numbers alone cowed the monsters; most simply fled in panic. The reclaimed land stretched wide enough that one could almost have founded a new kingdom upon the emptied earth.
The trouble, however, lay within.
Not within the expedition itself, but within the kingdom—inside the territories ruled by each lord. While the southern monsters were successfully driven farther south, the creatures that began to stir inside the fiefs raided nearby villages. Monsters appeared not only in the forests and mountain ranges long known as their haunts, but in dungeons emptied and sealed years ago, in abandoned mines, and deep inside caves.
With the regular army away on campaign, the task of clearing monsters from the territories normally fell to hunters and mercenaries. Yet the surge in numbers proved more than they could handle. Some of the mercenaries registered with the guilds had also joined the expedition, leaving the guilds of every city desperately short of manpower.
In the end, purging the monsters inside the borders took precedence over cleaning the lands beyond them, and the great expedition was brought to a halt.
Temples dedicated to the Sun God stood in every corner of the continent. Humans spoke of many gods, yet most of them were merely offshoots of the Sun God. Above all, every priest who wielded holy magic served Him.
That mysterious power that closed wounds—holy magic that looked like a miracle made visible—possessed a magnetic pull. It could even kindle faith where none had existed before. For that reason the Steel Kingdom was far from alone; nearly every nation on the continent worshiped the Sun God.
The baptism performed at the age of seven and the coming-of-age rite at fifteen were rites of passage for all who followed Him.
Within the Greenhilt territory a temple of the Sun God existed only in the capital, Parolas. Each August, when baptisms and coming-of-age ceremonies were held, people poured in from every corner of the fief until the city became a swirling throng.
"Do we really have to go this far for something I'll wear only once?"
Roy stood dressed in ceremonial robes of the finest cloth, stitched with painstaking care by the territory's master artisans for the baptism. Ana was unyielding on this point alone. She would never allow the son of a great lord to appear more poorly dressed than the children of lesser nobles or merchants.
Roy, for his part, thought modest attire might have been wiser—less likely to draw curses from the people. The more one possessed, the more envy and jealousy one invited.
"Congratulations, Roy."
"Why are you coming along, Anna?"
"To celebrate with you, of course."
"I didn't go with you last year."
"That's because you were still a baby who hadn't been baptized yet."
"Ah. Right."
Leaving the manor by carriage was rare for Roy. Until the age of four he had never done so at all, and even afterward it happened only once a year at most. Even for someone who remembered a previous life, the outing felt exciting.
"If you're curious about anything, you can ask this big sister."
Anna had gone through the ceremony the year before and seemed determined to show off her knowledge. Roy simply wanted to watch the scenery sliding past the window in silence, yet her endless chatter inside the rocking carriage grated on his nerves.
"Anna. Have you finished memorizing the spells I taught you?"
"Huh?"
"We agreed you wouldn't bother me until you had them all memorized."
"……"
Anna had been just as thrilled by the rare outing, but Roy's remark instantly deflated her. She did not cry. By now the girl was thoroughly accustomed to conversations with her brother ending this way.
Seated beside them, the baron and baroness had been listening quietly. At last they spoke.
"Roy. Once the baptism is finished I could arrange a more renowned mage than Geren as your teacher. Geren himself told me he has nothing left to teach you."
"That's right. We can't let talent like yours go to waste."
"Ah, I'm fine. To be honest, any mage capable of teaching me would need to be of royal blood at the very least."
Truthfully, even a royal mage would have little left to teach me.
"Don't grow arrogant. The world is full of people far greater than you realize—even among those with almost no mana."
"Yes. I'll remember that."
"Roy already knows that much, dear. More than anything, I'm looking forward to the ceremony itself—that part they do."
"What part?"
"Anna did it last year. When you place your hand on the sacred relic and pray, light fills the gem."
"Ah! I did. Anna made three lights appear and was praised for it."
Roy could not follow the mother-and-daughter exchange. Curiosity left him no choice but to ask again.
"What exactly is it?"
"It's a test of the baptized child's mana, isn't it?"
Ana deferred the answer to the baron.
"I don't know the details myself, but they say it's a kind of aptitude test used only in the temple. Through it they identify children with talent for holy magic and train them as priests. As a side benefit they can also discover affinities for other attributes. Anna's were fire, water, and ice, correct?"
"Yes, that's right."
"I was astonished when I heard it last year. Fire and ice are natural opposites, yet the priest hinted that because Anna was born with the gift she would be able to wield both without any loss of mana."
"Hehe."
Flushed with praise, Anna beamed. The baron and baroness, however, turned expectant eyes on Roy. After everything they had witnessed, how could they not? Whether water, fire, or ice—once the boy saw a spell, he could reproduce it instantly. Expectation was only natural.
Roy's thoughts, by contrast, were tangled. An ominous premonition whispered that fresh trouble was about to begin.
He understood his own strength with perfect clarity, thanks to his golden eyes. Water, fire, ice, earth, wind—he had never felt any meaningful difference in mana when casting any of them. Anna had been praised for revealing three attributes. What would happen if five appeared?
He did not yet want fame. Unknown enemies would only multiply. Until he could fully protect himself he preferred to remain quiet, yet events kept pushing him in the opposite direction.
At the very least I need a proper stock of amulets ready first…
Of course the priest might simply have flattered Anna as a courtesy to the baron. True greatness lay not in handling a few attributes, but in the sheer volume of mana one possessed and in how many complex spells one could cast swiftly and flawlessly.
Before long the carriage drew near the temple. The roar of the gathered crowds poured inside.
"We'll disembark here and walk the rest of the way. Wait a moment. The guards will clear a path through the throng. Once you enter the temple, the priest in charge will come out to guide you."
"Am I going alone?"
"Yes. Only the child receiving baptism may enter. But don't worry. If accidents ever occurred during these ceremonies, the custom would have vanished long ago."
In other words, no accidents have happened yet.
A moment later a guard's voice announced that preparations were complete. With the baron's help Roy stepped down from the carriage. Countless eyes fixed upon the small boy.
Fresh from the carriage, Roy found the stares of the crowd uncomfortable. Looks of praise or reverence he might have endured. Mere curiosity—the idle observation of the masses—made him want to shout at them to mind their own business.
"Is that the third son? The one who went missing?"
"Can't you tell just by looking? Anyway, it seems the child the margrave's daughter bore didn't come along. I was curious about that one."
"Man, the baby was only just born—why would you bring it somewhere like this?"
"I heard he was frail and only ever read books in his room, but he looks surprisingly solid."
"He's the lord's son—of course he ate well and grew. When I first saw the lord's second son I thought I was looking at a giant."
Hearing the idle chatter only deepened his irritation. It stemmed from the memories of his previous life. Those damned people might have been equally uncultured, yet at least they had been nobles of great magical power. Here they were all commoners—people who did not even know the first letter of magic—whispering this and that. It set his teeth on edge.
The baron sank to one knee so that their eyes met and spoke softly, apparently believing the boy was simply nervous at facing a crowd for the first time.
"You are different from other children. You are my son—no one else's. The gazes of the people? You must never fear them. Even if you are afraid, never let it show. A lord's child must always stand tall, wherever he is. Never forget that among all the children you will see today, you alone were born with the greatest bloodline. Do you understand, Roy Greenhilt?"
"Yes…"
Bloodline…
In his previous life the thing Roy had hated most was precisely bloodline. Because of that single accident of birth, though he knew more magic and understood it more deeply than anyone, he could not cast a single spell. Though he could draw magic circles more intricate than any other, he had been forced to watch from behind as the magic activated without him.
Now he was the one who enjoyed every advantage that bloodline conferred—more uniquely than anyone else, at least within this territory.
With the clamor of the crowd as his backdrop, Roy slowly set one foot in front of the other to perform once more the rite he had already undergone nearly a thousand years before.