Rubina (3)
Ships came and went through the Grand Duchy of Carpatia in numbers too great to count.
Though it touched the coastline, the waters there ran deep, letting everything from massive cargo vessels to small fishing boats call at its harbor—and it was here that a large passenger ship flying high the banner of the Heavenly God Church dropped anchor.
The moment the ship entered port, a mooring rope as thick as an adult man's torso came down from the vessel.
Once it was fastened securely to the mooring bollard, the ship settled, rocking only gently with the waves—effectively anchored in place.
No sooner had a gangway of thick, layered oak been set in place than a red carpet came rolling down over it.
Of all those aboard, the two most precious figures made their appearance, stepping slowly down the carpet and into the port.
"So this is Carpatia Port?"
Vigrind's face had improved considerably of late.
The wretched seasickness had run its course, and after two full weeks at sea she had adapted enough that travel had become somewhat bearable.
"That is correct."
Vigrind nodded in answer to the Hero Ludwig's question.
In truth, she didn't really know.
Attendants had simply come to tell them they had arrived at Carpatia Port and should prepare to disembark, so she had assumed as much.
"What a considerable city..."
The Hero glanced about, letting out admiring exclamations at every turn.
He rather looked like a country bumpkin at it, and Vigrind felt inwardly embarrassed—but in truth, she only refrained from turning her head the way Ludwig did; her eyes were already rolling this way and that, far too busy taking in the surroundings.
If one were to call it anything, it would be a city of life itself.
That was her first impression of Carpatia Port. Amid the briny smell of the open sea, people's voices brimmed with vitality, and throughout the harbor, overflowing with every offspring of the ocean imaginable, figures bustled everywhere—carting them off, trimming and cleaning them, hauling them away to somewhere.
"Saintess Vigrind, I presume?"
While she was taking in the sights, a white-haired old man approached with a smile.
The man wore pure white clerical robes and a bishop's mitre trimmed in red and gold thread, his face bearing a gentle warmth. He was someone Vigrind had never met before.
"I am Bishop Phileo of the Grand Duchy of Carpatia branch. I have come to welcome you, Saintess Vigrind."
"Ah, Bishop Phileo. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Vigrind grasped the front of her saintly vestments and bowed slightly in greeting.
The vestments were revealing to a degree that felt almost excessive—at first they had been terribly embarrassing to wear, but thankfully she had grown used to them by now.
"You've had a long and arduous journey. And this would be...?"
Ludwig, who had been standing blankly beside Vigrind, broke into a broad smile as Bishop Phileo's gaze turned toward him.
"I am called Ludwig. A pleasure to meet you, Bishop Phileo."
Vigrind let out an inward sigh of relief at his unexpectedly normal self-introduction.
Ludwig had a subtle tendency to go strangely off the rails in odd little ways, and she had nagged him about it a fair bit back on the ship.
Whether it counted as fortunate that he'd improved even a little was hard to say.
"A pleasure to meet you both. Now, this way, please. The church's laborers will see to unloading your belongings."
When Ludwig and Vigrind nodded, Bishop Phileo led the way with his customary easygoing smile.
Ludwig and Vigrind followed behind him, and behind them trailed the acolytes dressed in the full vestments of the Heavenly God Church.
Vigrind nearly cried out in involuntary awe.
The cathedral standing before her boasted an overwhelming scale that brooked no comparison whatsoever to the one she had known in Evian.
Pure white bricks—so pristine it seemed even dust had never touched them—each bore the seal of the Heavenly God Church engraved in intaglio, and those bricks had been stacked without a single gap to form towering walls.
Those walls curved in a gentle arc to enclose the grounds, and set into the enclosure stood an arched bronze gate upon which was carved in relief the image of the God of Matrimony, the deity said to stand at the Heavenly God's side as guardian.
When the bronze doors opened softly and without a sound, a garden spread out within.
Heat stones seemed to be embedded here and there, for a faint warmth glowed in the air, quite unlike the slightly chilly atmosphere outside, and they walked casually across the white paving stones laid out among the greenery.
"You must be weary from your long journey, so I shall show you to your lodgings first."
"You... you are personally showing us the way, Bishop?"
The acolytes standing behind Vigrind and Ludwig kept their eyes lowered, not one of them moving a muscle.
If anything, no one stepped forward, as though it were only natural that Bishop Phileo should do so himself.
"Yes, of course. The Saintess of the Heavenly God Church is the daughter whom the Heavenly God cherishes above all, is she not? For one so exalted—and moreover—"
Bishop Phileo glanced briefly at Ludwig.
Ludwig had not yet been ordained.
In other words, there was no way to know whether this man truly was the Hero or not.
When the Heavenly God had descended to proclaim Vigrind a Saintess, no mention had been made of Ludwig, who stood beside her.
Only after traveling to the Infula Holy See, verifying his divinity, and examining his weapon would he be officially proclaimed as the Hero. For now, he remained unproven.
"—the Saintess's companion."
Ludwig's brow twitched ever so slightly.
It wasn't that he was too dense to catch the meaning woven into Bishop Phileo's words.
"Quite right. Until I receive official recognition, I shouldn't go around calling myself the Hero."
Ludwig smiled readily.
"I thank you for your understanding. Now, this way, please."
Bishop Phileo guided Ludwig and Vigrind to their lodgings.
The room was very spacious, yet orderly all at once.
Furnished with simple, unadorned furniture, it was a room perfectly suited for members of the clergy.
"Ooof—"
Ludwig groaned as he flopped back onto the bed.
The mattress—cotton packed tight and firm, squared off with careful precision—barely dented under his weight, and the comfort of lying on it was exceptional.
"Funny how I keep catching sidelong glances everywhere I go, isn't it."
Ludwig was in the prime of his years.
Well, the Heavenly God Himself had declared him the Hero and bestowed the Holy Spear upon him, so he harbored not the slightest doubt that he was, in fact, the Hero.
Still, having to travel all the way to the Infula Holy See to receive formal ordination was a genuine chore.
"...And all this while a calamity is bearing down on us."
Was this really the time to be lazing about like this?
He had set out on this journey readily enough, thinking that at the Holy See he might learn in greater detail what was happening in the world right now.
But having actually spent a month reaching Carpatia, only to be told it would take another two weeks by carriage to reach the Infula Holy See, he couldn't help wondering whether he'd set out for nothing.
It felt like a waste of time.
Another thought crossed his mind too: since he was an adventurer by origin, wouldn't it be far faster to act like one—to go to the Adventurer's Guild and squeeze his informants for what they knew?
Top-tier intelligence might be waiting at Infula, but even sifting through lesser information, one could hardly dismiss the chance of dredging up something strange.
Ludwig sat bolt upright from where he'd been lying.
His heart yearned to head straight for the Adventurer's Guild here in Carpatia, but the thought of the Saintess held him back.
She looked somewhat frail, and worry kept welling up unbidden—could a girl like that really keep pace with the Hero's Pilgrimage?
*
A month had passed since they left the village.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened; the days passed in simply walking on and on, following the map.
There had been a few villages along the way, but on Kayak's advice that it was better to keep moving than to linger, they had resupplied only with necessities and pressed on immediately.
"This is a flower called a pinwheel flower. Look—see how the petals look like a little pinwheel?"
"What's a pinwheel?"
"Well, a pinwheel is—"
Rubina rode on James's back, chatting away softly as they traveled.
There was simply no way a ten-year-old child could keep up with the strides of adults like these, and they had wondered what to do about her—when, unexpectedly, James had offered to carry her himself.
He was a seasoned veteran who had raised his own children on his back, and orc children were naturally built like towers, so a human child this size felt like a feather to him—or so he'd said, and they'd told him to go ahead. Apparently, every word of it had been true.
The days of travel went smoothly, with barely any encounters with monsters.
If there was a single flaw in these peaceful, uneventful days—
"You're awake?"
"...I'm fine..."
Yona, having just finished her watch shift and crawled into the sleeping bag, looked down at Rubina, who blinked her eyes open as if she'd been roused from sleep.
An ant's murmur would have been louder than that.
Her voice came out so weak and listless it was like something dragging itself along without even earning its keep, but somehow Yona managed to make it out.
The problem was the sleeping bag.
Yona was on the slender side, but the sleeping bag itself was so narrow that fitting both Yona and Rubina inside at once was inevitably a tight squeeze.
Having Kayak or James share it was obviously out of the question, and Alec—well, he was a man, and something about the idea of letting Rubina sleep with him didn't sit right with her, so Yona had declared she'd take the girl herself.
One woman and one child—it wasn't so bad as to be impossible, but it was still cramped, so every time the watch began or changed, Rubina couldn't help being woken.
So warm...
Still, it wasn't all bad.
Cramped as it was, Rubina was, after all, still a young child, her body temperature running a touch high, which meant the inside of the sleeping bag stayed cozy and warm at all times.
Before closing her eyes, Yona brushed back the hair of Rubina, who had burrowed as deep as she could into her chest.
Perhaps because they had spent two weeks stuck together like this, Rubina did seem to be growing somewhat attached to Yona.
It doesn't matter. Once we reach the Grand Duchy of Carpatia, I'm leaving her at an orphanage.
A cathedral orphanage was a place she could entrust the girl without qualms.
Yona had no intention of letting herself grow attached to Rubina.
Only a few more days of walking, and they would reach the Grand Duchy of Carpatia.
There, she and Rubina would part ways.
There was no reason to let her heart get involved.