The Inquisitors (1)
The very first thought that flashed through my mind the instant I saw the words The Inquisitors are coming here was this:
Why? Why are they coming here?
They have no reason to visit House Burrow.
The Church's inquisitors are, in essence, the Church's fixers.
Founded on the principle of persecuting heresy, they carry out all the dirty work that can never see the light of day.
Because their duties demand things that must stay buried, the position was once granted only to those with proven, unshakable loyalty to the Church — but things are a little different now. Instead of appointing the deeply loyal, the Church simply raises the loyal from scratch and forges them into inquisitors.
Nothing strange about that, really. This is the same Church that manufactures its own Saintesses these days.
Anyway. These people get dispatched in one scenario and one scenario only: when there's dirty work to be done.
Helping a collaborator keep their silence forever. Quieting down anyone whose opinions stray a little too far from the fold. Or, true to the origin of their title, interrogating heretics. Those are the only times they move.
So why on earth are they coming to Burrow Territory?
One thing was certain: the Church had no idea what happened here in House Burrow's lands. This whole affair was cross-verified by Johann, a bishop of the Church, and Isabelle, who has connections running all through the Church hierarchy.
Which means there should be absolutely zero reason for the Church to take an interest in this territory. So why?
No. Wait.
The reason can wait. What I need to figure out right now is how to respond to the inquisitors' arrival.
If the inquisitors reach Burrow Territory, the problems won't be few and far between.
First and foremost, my identity getting exposed is the issue.
I'm still nowhere near strong enough to stand against the Church's power. If it came out that I'm an Apostle under these circumstances, I'd vanish without a trace one day, just like Gramps warned me I would.
And that's not the only problem.
If the truth of what happened in Burrow Territory comes out, who knows what sacrifices it would demand. What's more, there's every chance the fallout would land on Phoebe and Johann, who did nothing more than help me.
Aaaargh. Damn it. My head hurts!
<Girl. What's the matter?>
'...Something not so great has come up.'
When I laid out the situation I was in, Gramps let out a long, low groan.
<That's a bother.>
'Tell me about it.'
I barely survived a life-or-death crisis and now another crisis comes knocking! And what makes it even more infuriating is that this one wasn't caused by an evil god!
Why on earth should I, the Chief God's own Apostle, be afraid of the Chief God's own Church!?
Apparently I'm the first Apostle of the Chief God in all of recorded history — shouldn't you be pampering me, worshipping the ground I walk on, treating me like a treasure?!
This is all that pathetic, incompetent, trash-ass Chief God's fault!
Why can't you keep your own believers in line, huh?! You call yourself a god after letting it get this bad?! When people act against your will, shouldn't you punish them one way or another?!
I'm asking because I genuinely want to know — and don't tell me it's just because you can't be bothered to talk to a bunch of moth-eaten, musty old fossils! If it's because your precious pervert-lolicon pride can't bear being associated with geezers like that, I will be genuinely furious!
I will spend my life spreading the truth of your nature to every corner of this world!
<Girl. Are you even listening?>
'...Huh? Sorry, what did you say?'
<Hah. This isn't a problem for you alone, is it? First thing to do is go outside and inform the others, I'd say.>
Gramps was absolutely right. This wasn't a problem I could shoulder alone.
Besides, when it came to planning a course of action, talking it over with many was better than agonizing alone.
I closed the window, rose to my feet, gripped my mace in my right hand, and eyed the back of Nakrad's head.
"Now, if you're satisfied... What?! I did everything you— wait! Stop! Mmph—!"
Hit like this, he'd probably just pass out, right?
After Lucy vanished into the dungeon, Phoebe remained kneeling before it, offering up prayer after prayer.
Begging the Chief God to watch over Lucy was the only thing she could do.
She ignored every suggestion to eat or drink something. She ignored the suggestion to rest. Ignored every single thing, and held her post.
By then she couldn't even begin to guess how much time had passed — and in that moment, a warm presence came flowing out through the dungeon doors.
The instant she felt it against her skin, Phoebe's eyes snapped open.
Standing there, unmistakably, was Lucy.
Her red hair, once swaying freely, was a matted, bloody wreck. Blood streaming from her head covered half her face. Her armor was crushed and caved in at every angle, its original shape nearly impossible to make out — and yet.
The figure standing before the dungeon's entrance was, without question, Lucy.
She flung the two dolls slung over her shoulder to the floor like sacks of cargo, met Phoebe's eyes, and broke into a wide grin.
"What's up, pathetic Saintess? I..."
"My lady!"
The moment she saw that smile, Phoebe threw herself at Lucy and wrapped her in an embrace.
It never occurred to her that Lucy was covered head to toe in blood, or that her own clothes would be ruined for it. The feeling swelling up in her chest was simply far too large to leave room for such concerns.
"Do you have ANY idea how worried I was?!"
"Nope."
"You said it was nothing, and then you were gone for AGES!"
"Ugh."
"Oh! Truly! I'm just so relieved you're safe! My la—"
"HEY! Pig Saintess! You're crushing me, so get OFF already?!"
Only after Lucy's shout rang through the room did Phoebe come to her senses — and realize exactly how improper she was being.
What a disgrace, to treat someone this way right after she'd battled the Apostle of an evil god!
"I'm so sorry, my lady!"
"...Hah. Whatever. Where are the other pathetic losers?"
"The others are..."
"What's up, boss? Something urgent?"
Just as Phoebe opened her mouth to answer, a voice drifted in from behind the door. Karia — Lucy's information broker — poking her head through.
"Yep. About as urgent as your wedding prospects, auntie."
"...My wedding prospects aren't in any particular hurry, thanks!"
Amid Karia's needle-struck shriek and Lucy waving it all off and ordering her to gather everyone, Phoebe — unable to wedge herself into the conversation — quietly turned her head to check the faces of the people Lucy had brought back.
On one side stood Jackal Burrow.
The young lord of House Burrow, who had once fallen to the temptation offered by Tariki's Apostle, and been granted a second chance by Lucy.
And on the other side—
"Pfft—?! ...Koff! Koff!"
Phoebe, faced with the Apostle of the evil god, was so startled that her breath caught, and she broke into coughing fit after coughing fit.
That... what in the world was that?
Karia, who had drifted up beside her at some point, gave Phoebe's back a light pat and turned to Lucy with a demand in her voice.
"Boss. What in the hell is that supposed to be?"
"How would I know what this pervert string-bean was thinking?"
"...This is a personal kink of his? Seriously?"
Karia peered down at Nakrad sprawled across the floor, shook her head as though she'd seen something no eyes should witness, and left the room.
And so silence settled over the room.
Phoebe was too busy reading Lucy's expression, mortified over her blunder from moments ago.
And Lucy, frowning faintly as though something was on her mind, did nothing but stare down at the floor.
Uuu. Stupid, stupid Phoebe. Why do you keep fumbling even the moment of a joyful reunion you should be celebrating? And now you've earned nothing but a scolding from my lady.
Hah. "Pig Saintess," she says.
...Come to think of it, even when my lady exaggerates, she never says things that aren't true.
Hm? Have I... put on weight?
"Miss! Are you alright?! Are you hurt anywhere?! This blade! I was worried sick about you, Miss!"
Cutting through Phoebe's thoughts came Carl, bursting in at a dead sprint like a man possessed.
He fussed and flapped the instant he crossed the threshold, until an irritated Lucy finally put him down.
Not long after, Alsaetin made his appearance.
Johann took his place in the room with quiet, measured steps.
The Lord of the Forest and the spatial mage followed after them.
"That pervert Frete says he'll come once he's finished his business."
And finally, when even Karia had shown herself, Lucy spoke up, her expression unusually grave.
"The dogs of the trash who pretend to serve the pathetic Chief God are headed this way."
"I don't... suppose I need to ask whether that's the truth."
The first to speak was Karia. With her gift for reading what lay in people's hearts, she'd already grasped that my words were no lie, and she turned toward Johann with a sigh.
"Bishop. If the inquisitors see the current state of Burrow Territory, what happens?"
"Hm."
Johann, too, doubted none of it. He apparently judged my words to be fact on the spot, and answered Karia's question without delay.
"There is no possibility they fail to find Tariki's traces. And when they do, they will call us to account for acting without informing the Church."
"That sounds like a pain."
"It would be far worse than that."
"Persuasion?"
"Impossible. Subjugation as well. We could defeat the inquisitors, yes — but someone would slip away to report."
"Hah. Then—"
"Um. Excuse me."
Amid the rapid-fire exchange, Phoebe raised her voice, and every eye in the room swung toward her.
Unbothered by the weight of all those gazes, she smiled her usual smile and made her proposal.
"I'll stay behind and testify. That way House Burrow can be painted as innocent victims, and no arrows will fly toward my lady—"
'No.'
"Denied, pathetic Saintess."
"I cannot allow it, Saintess."
"Yeah, that's a bad idea, Saintess."
No sooner had Phoebe made her offer than I, Johann, and Karia all shook our heads in unison.
"Wh... why not?"
"The first problem is that this affair is far too large for the Saintess to handle alone."
"You'd draw suspicion, and they'd keep investigating behind your back. Then it gets messy."
I wouldn't say it out loud, but even if Phoebe's proposal were accepted, it would still be a disaster.
Because the Church would hardly welcome the news that their false Saintess had detected the Apostle of an evil god — and struck him down.
What would those people do, I wonder, the moment their tool began developing a will of its own?
"Then I'll step forward myself!"
Just as Phoebe was floundering under the string of rejections, the door burst open.
The apostle of the goddess of beauty and perversity — no, of Beauty and Art — had at last made his belated entrance.
"If I become the central figure of this affair, is there not a single problem left to speak of?"
"...You, an Apostle?"
The man answered Phoebe's question with a gentle smile, nodded, and stepped to the center of the room.
"I came to this place having genuinely received word from my Goddess, so any question of how I knew is moot. And with the track record I have built, no one would think to doubt me even if I claimed I had resolved everything myself. Asserting House Burrow's innocence goes without saying — and using our Order's influence to block the Chief God's Church from intervening would be entirely within my power as well."
There wasn't a single flaw in what he said.
If this guy stepped out front, most of our problems would evaporate.
More importantly, this man stood entirely outside the Chief God Church's reach.
Even inquisitors can't bare their teeth at the apostle of another god. If he shamelessly planted himself out front, they'd have no choice but to back down.
"I confess I don't understand why you wish to keep this matter from the Church's eyes, but this is the cleanest solution, is it not?"
Is this seriously the same pervert who charged at me the moment he laid eyes on me?
The degenerate bastard who spewed every unhinged tirade imaginable until I was left speechless in horror — this is what he sounds like when he argues logically?
I was still reeling from the shock of hearing a beast produce human speech when Karia let out a sigh.
"It'd be best if you did the legwork, sure. So what's your angle?"
Huh? My angle?
"Repaying the debt of the life you saved, of course."
"Cut the crap. Did you forget who's standing in front of you?"
Karia possesses the ability to read a person's intent from the smallest movement of their body. It's sharp enough to peel back even my innermost thoughts.
And when someone like that bares her voice like a drawn blade—
Wait. He wasn't just expressing gratitude? He had an angle after all?
...No. No, hold on. If THIS pervert bastard has an angle, then surely it isn't—
"Spit it out already, you pervert bastard. We're short on time."
"Mm. Well, you see, I heard it while speaking with Lady Rina. Word has it that the Young Lady of Arln intends to reward the Lord of the Forest in the most exquisitely beautiful form imaginable."
Hey.
Face-obsessed Fox.
You absolute lunatic of a woman!
I trusted you! I entrusted you! And you were out there bragging about that?!
When I glared at her with no attempt to hide my fury, the Face-obsessed Fox awkwardly averted her gaze.
She did! She actually said it! This answer-less pervert of a fox!
Every fiber of my being wanted to launch myself at her right now and start swinging my mace — but unfortunately, I couldn't. Not yet.
The Goddess's apostle still hadn't finished speaking.
"I wish to preserve that sight in a painting. If the Young Lady would grant her permission, I, Frete, shall do anything at all in return."
...
Hah.
Seriously, life. Just, seriously.