The Golden Wheat Field
They had made it through the Gate of Divinity unscathed.
But the inspection process wasn't over yet. The Gate could detect impure beings on its own, yet contraband—drugs, forbidden books, and the like—had to be checked by hand.
Needless to say, the inspectors would come to search the cargo wagon themselves, but the two of them had already worked out an escape route beforehand.
Fwap!
Simon felt the broker throw a blue cloth over the wagon. Moments later, the man rapped twice on the carriage— signaling that the coast was clear.
This blue cloth had the effect of blocking the flow of mana. Once they threw it over themselves, they would activate the teleportation circle drawn on the bottom of the crate and slip away somewhere else.
All I need to do is get inside the Holy Federation.
Anti-teleportation white magic blanketed the Federation's borders, blocking any unauthorized teleportation. But once they were inside Federation territory, using teleport magic would be no problem at all.
"Alright, get ready."
The two of them crammed themselves into the teleportation circle as best they could. In the process, they had no choice but to press close together, practically embracing.
Simon went pale with alarm, but Lethe forced her expression to stay flat as she placed her hand on the circle.
"Random teleportation within the radius of our destination point. If we're unlucky, we could come out underwater or drop right into the middle of a monastery. Ready?"
"Uh? Uh. Ready."
She murmured a quiet here we go and activated the teleportation circle.
Vuuuum!
Simon's body lifted off the ground as the circle flared to life.
'Ugh!'
His entire body hurtled forward at a terrifying speed, and he lost all sense of what was up or down.
It felt like shooting through a narrow pipe at supersonic speed inside an abstract painting, every color in existence smeared together into chaos. He thought it again now—he missed the teleportation Kizen's professionals ran. As the world spun and a vicious wave of motion sickness crashed over him,
just as he decided he truly couldn't take another second of it—
Fwaaaaaash!
The lurching stopped, and finally he felt ground beneath him. He pressed a hand to his forehead and took a moment to collect himself, then slowly lifted his head and looked around.
"……?"
Everything around him was golden. When he tilted his head back, he saw a flawless blue sky without a single cloud.
Simon had landed in the middle of a dense wheat field.
"O Goddess."
Then he heard Lethe's voice from below him.
"Grant me the patience not to murder him as I repay my debt, and the restraint not to bathe in his blood."
"?"
He looked down and realized he was flattening her into the ground. With a yelp, he scrambled off to the side, apologizing frantically.
"Just now."
She pushed herself up on her arms and spoke icily.
"You died at least five hundred times in my head, each one more creative than the last. Give thanks to the Goddess who granted me restraint."
"……Well, we teleported in a hugging position, so what was I supposed to do?"
"Shut it."
The two of them slowly picked themselves up.
The wheat was absurdly tall. Wheat normally grew to about a meter at most, but it towered over Simon so that only his head showed above it, while barely the crown of Lethe's head peeked out.
"Looks like wheat raised with the Holy Farming Method, it does."
She said it as she briskly brushed off her clothes—paying special attention to every spot that had touched Simon.
"The Holy Farming Method?"
"Yes. Before the planting season, they bring in a Priest to hold a service and pour divinity into the soil, and the crops grow wonderfully. It's the grace of God."
"You people have everything, don't you."
She crossed her arms with a superior smile.
"Everything? It goes far beyond that. We're talking about crop yields—the foundation of running an entire nation. What does the Dark Alliance even do?"
"……We just spread manure to enrich the soil, practice crop rotation, and sometimes my dad goes into town to buy fertilizer and spreads that around too."
Lethe clicked her tongue.
"Barbaric, it is—slinging that reeking dung all over your fields. How is that any different from shoving the dung you excreted straight back into your mouths?"
"No, it's completely different from that. Do you even know what fertiliz—"
"Anyway! From now on, I'll be showing you the superiority of the Holy Federation on a regular basis, so brace yourself."
She spun on her heel and strode off. Maybe being on home turf gave her a sense of security—she looked oddly pleased with herself.
"Wheat thieves!"
That lasted all of a few minutes.
The shout rang out, and from every direction farmers came swarming with weapons in hand—or rather, farm tools—with murderous intent.
"Wondered when you'd crawl out—there you are!"
"Everyone out here, now!"
The atmosphere turned murderous in a heartbeat. Lethe seized Simon by the collar and yanked hard.
"What are you standing around gaping for! Run!"
A chase had broken out out of nowhere. Farmers came flooding into the wheat field in droves.
The sight of the wheat parting on all sides as sharp farm tools closed in on them was genuinely terrifying. These people looked ready to swing first and ask questions never, so evasion was clearly the best policy.
Lethe and Simon bolted helter-skelter across the wheat and ducked into a small shed nearby, a place piled with farm implements and straw.
The instant Lethe locked the door, they heard it—Bam! Bam!—boots kicking the door.
"They're in here!"
"Hey, open up! Are you going to open this door or not?!"
The hinges rattled like they'd shatter at any moment. Simon braced the door with his whole body.
"What's the plan now?"
"Can't exactly tell them we teleported in, can I. No reason to expose our route for nothing."
Before he knew it, Lethe was pulling an Efnel uniform out of her bag. She kicked off her shoes and slipped on stockings.
"Give me five minutes to change into my Efnel uniform. Hold them off."
"Are you insane?! Five minutes—do it in two! Forget the stockings, clothes first!"
"I said I've got it, so turn those eyes around, you lunatic! Let me get dressed!"
Crash!
The small windows on either side shattered, and rake-like farm tools came thrusting through, sweeping the space around them. Worried about getting scratched, Simon crouched lower.
Crunch!
At the same moment, a shovel burst through the door right above Simon's head. With a strangled yelp, Simon pressed his left hand against the door and traced a magic circle.
Shield of Protection
A wall of pure white divinity spread across the doorway, sealing it shut. The enraged farmers smashed the door to splinters, and then began hammering directly on the Shield of Protection itself.
"Lethe! Hurry!"
Simon shouted over his shoulder, back pressed against the barrier.
"Peek even once and I'll kill you myself and send you straight to heaven."
"Not looking!"
Zip!
She finally finished buttoning her top and drew a magic circle in the air. Then she snapped her fingers.
Fwaaaaaaaah!
"Ugh!"
A blinding light erupted and swallowed Simon and Lethe whole. In an instant it blew the shed apart and scattered in every direction.
"Gah!"
"What in the—?!"
The farmers recoiled in terror before the colossal surge of divinity.
When the flash subsided, beyond the ruins of the collapsed shed they could see a boy sprawled on the ground—and a girl in a white uniform.
As Lethe untied the ribbon binding her hair, her snow-white locks rippled and streamed in the wind. The farmers' eyes went round as saucers.
There was no mistaking it—an Efnel uniform, tailored by the Holy See itself.
"And yet."
Lethe's frigid voice rang out across the field.
"You cannot grasp the situation?"
Clatter! Thud!
The farmers dropped their tools as one and threw themselves prostrate on the ground.
"We stand in the presence of a Priest of Efnel!"
Dumbfounded by how fast everything had flipped, Simon just stared blankly. She, by contrast, seemed perfectly used to this—she gave a dismissive snort and looked down at the prostrated farmers.
"I descended because I was moved by the beauty of the wheat grains the great Goddess bestowed upon you—and you respond by threatening my life with blades before I've said a word. Are you prepared to die?"
"We have committed a crime worthy of death!!"
The farmers wailed, foreheads pressed to the dirt.
Every last one of them trembled in naked terror. Simon blinked. Yep—the Holy Federation and its ironclad caste system, all right.
"If you've committed a crime worthy of death, as you say, then naturally you must be punished?"
Lethe spread her fingers with a cold voice.
"All of you—"
"Reverend Priest."
At that moment Simon rose from where he'd fallen and bowed his head with a grave expression. The ornate flourish of his sign of the cross was practiced enough to pass for the real thing.
Pressing his palms together, Simon spoke.
"Great is the sin of these faithful who failed to recognize your holiness. Yet I beg you to take pity on them, for their blood ran hot with the pursuit of the thieves who ravaged this wheat field, and to grant them absolution."
The terrified farmers looked up at Simon with enormous eyes. They clearly hadn't expected anyone to take their side.
Lethe's face twisted in disbelief.
"Absolution? A few days of dragging you around and you've forgotten your place, have we? An Apprentice Priest dares to question a Priest's judgment?"
"Reverend Priest, you yourself descended in admiration of this golden wheat field grown so magnificently—therefore guarding the wheat that has received the Goddess's grace is among the few duties these farmers possess. In their zeal to protect the Goddess's grace they overreached and erred, yet that error sprang from pure and simple faith. I humbly beseech you to look upon it with mercy and lighten their sins."
'……Wow. This little punk.'
Lethe laughed hollowly to herself. So his tongue could twist like this?
Lethe had been about to punish the farmers for threatening her safety.
But this had been a mistake made in the course of carrying out a mission the Goddess herself had bestowed—therefore the Priest who served the Goddess's will should forgive it. Weigh the Goddess's will against the personal safety of one Priest, and the Goddess's will inevitably comes out on top.
On top of that, she'd only just explained the Holy Farming Method, and he'd woven it back into his speech so smoothly that the locals never even noticed the slip. That improvisational skill, frankly, deserved some credit.
"…Those words hold truth. Raise your heads."
Lethe declared that she would let it pass—just this once.
Watching the farmers bow and scrape their gratitude, Simon realized anew just how enormous the power of a Priest—of Efnel itself—was in the Holy Federation.
Their actual destination city was a little far off, but the farmers immediately stepped forward to arrange a carriage for them.
While the two of them sat waiting, the table filled up with food of every description.
'……Feels like I'm visiting someone's home.'
They were only staying for the half hour until the carriage arrived, but the farmers kept bringing out more food, and it was getting awkward. Simon felt guilty about eating a free meal, but Lethe dug in as if it were only natural.
"Don't be shy—eat."
Lethe said.
"Feeding Apprentice Priests and Priests who come calling is simply our culture. They even say that if a household fails to fill the belly of an Apprentice Priest in the midst of the 19 Tribulations, the Goddess's curse will fall upon their home."
"You people have a custom for everything."
"And anyway, it's not exactly a free meal, so eat your fill. I'll be paying for it later."
True enough—refusing food that had been set out for them felt a bit rude too. Simon tried a bite of the wheat noodles the Holy Federation was known for.
"Delicious!"
"Hmph. Naturally."
Milder and plainer than Dark Alliance cooking, but more than decent.
Then Lethe went off with the farmers for a while and returned after pouring divinity over a field being readied for planting. The farmers bowed low again and again, overjoyed, as if a goddess had descended among them.
She trudged back to her seat, plopped down beside Simon, and started in on the wheat noodles again.
"Must be nice, being a Priest—never going hungry."
"Get jealous, then? Become one."
Lethe said it with a smirk.
"By the way. Have you ever ridden a train?"
"A train?"
* * *
Poooooot!
The moment the two of them reached the city by carriage, they stopped by the station.
Simon—still, at heart, a country boy from the Dark Alliance—thought his eyes were about to pop out of his head.
"Wh-what is that?!"
A hulking mass of iron on wheels was rolling toward the station, exhaling white steam laced with divinity. Some of the rails even ran along the ground before lifting up to float in midair partway through.
Clank! Clank! Clank!
Apparently this station wasn't a stop on its route. The train swept past, and Simon stared after it, wide-eyed.
"Five days."
Lethe rested both hands on her hips and smiled.
"That's how long we'll be riding the Holy Express that crosses the entire Holy Federation. The heresy inquisitors crawl all over it, so brace yourself."
"……Haha."
Even by Simon's own account, it was shaping up to be one dynamic summer break.