The Senior's Teachings
Purple clouds were one of the precursor omens that appeared before a demon's descent.
The phenomena they brought, however, varied wildly. Plague, slumber, delusion, brainwashing, corruption—the list went on. Among them, the two most common were these: stigmata and summoning.
And Elbridge could guess which one this cloud would bring.
Hadn't Felix already given him the answer?
Every night the stigmata would burn from top to bottom, little by little, and each time the people suffered pain bad enough to kill them...
But he had no way of knowing exactly how the marks would be imprinted.
While Elbridge pondered, the purple cloud began to churn.
The moment he saw it, he bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Fire! Fire at the Magic Tower!"
The cloud was rolling in from the east, while the Magic Tower stood in the western district of Soleneon. At dusk, with the sunset blazing red, it really did look as though the tower were burning.
A few people turned west as Elbridge hoped. But the vast majority could not tear their eyes from the ominous purple cloud.
Uuuung—
A deep vibration rolled out, and within the cloud a colossal eye appeared, gazing down at the crowd.
Unfortunately, some met its gaze.
"What was that? I swear I saw an eye just now. Did you see it?"
"I think our eyes met too... Wait. You—what's that on your forehead?"
"There's a strange pattern on the back of your neck as well."
The demon had branded those whose eyes it met.
If the demon was not sealed in time, these people would die in agony.
...Damn it.
Elbridge let out a low sigh. This was not something he could prevent with his own power alone. Compared to the total population of Soleneon, the number of branded people was small. But it was more than enough to use as hostages.
Only then did Elbridge release the hilt of his sword. In all his past experience, the appearance of stigmata had never meant immediate descent.
At least no demonic beasts were scattered inside Soleneon's walls. That's something.
He recalled the day the great demon first descended—monstrous creatures pouring down like rain from a cloud that blanketed the sky. Had the same thing happened now, the casualties would have been catastrophic.
For now, I wait until the demon descends.
With a hardened expression, Elbridge walked toward the hill where the temples stood. Yet at the base of the slope, someone was waiting for him: the chief holy knight of the Bloodied Spear Order.
The man approached and fell into step beside him.
"Sir Elbridge."
"Please speak."
"I hear that in Ashpen last time, it took roughly two days from the cloud's appearance to the demon's arrival."
"So it seems."
"It took about ten days for the branded to die. And we have just over three days left until the voting deadline."
Elbridge turned to look at the chief holy knight.
"All of that is well and good, but why are you telling me about the voting schedule?"
"The same reason as before. From now until the demon descends, two days remain. If we can endure one more day and half a night after that, we can conclude the negotiations."
Elbridge gave a short, dry laugh.
"So you're telling me to stay out of it until the vote ends—because you need more seats and greater authority?"
The chief holy knight shook his head.
"Close, but no."
He produced a single crumpled silver ring and offered it to Elbridge. It was far too cheap to be called a bribe.
"What is this?"
"The ring Dunhold wore."
"Dunhold?"
"One of the five knights you faced in the Grand Tournament. He was a subordinate I treasured, and one of our order's finest talents."
The past tense told Elbridge everything he needed to know.
"In the Battle of Ashpen, Dunhold took a demon's fist in place of a wounded comrade and died with him."
"My condolences."
"To you he must have seemed an insignificant knight. But Dunhold was still young. Had he lived, he could have become far greater. If only he had survived by the narrowest margin..."
"..."
"Sir Elbridge, I am not asking for more seats. I am asking for the chance for holy knights to survive by that same narrow margin. Had Dunhold lived that day, how many more battles might he have fought? How many more lives might he have saved? No one can say."
Perhaps because the tale had been told slowly, the top of the hill had already come into view.
"Sir Elbridge, I imagine you are worried how many seats the Rusty Shield Order will receive from the negotiations."
He had struck the exact nerve. Hadn't Elbridge thought the same thing only that morning?
"We have concluded our internal discussions among the combat orders in haste. If you will wait so that we may conclude the negotiations favorably, we will allocate votes to guarantee the Rusty Shield Order at least one seat—regardless of the final terms."
The chief holy knight did not know the exact number of the Rusty Shield Order's believers. One additional seat would bring them closer to three than two. It was, in effect, a guarantee of exceeding their goal.
"I am the only holy knight left in our order. Why offer such generous terms?"
"Because you are the descendant of the hero who sealed the great demon. Because you were the brightest knight in the Grand Tournament. Because you are a figure of that much symbolic weight. And because you are the one person who could single-handedly ruin these negotiations."
Before they knew it, the two men stood before the Rusty Shield Order's temple.
"Sir Elbridge. Please lend us your strength so that our holy knights may protect this world."
The chief holy knight bowed with deep respect and departed.
Elbridge watched his retreating back for a long time before entering the temple.
*
Two days later, toward evening.
Unlike usual, the area around the Rusty Shield temple was packed. And not with ordinary citizens—countless holy knights surrounded the building.
To Elbridge it felt closer to imprisonment. A precaution against any sudden action from him while he had yet to declare his position.
Felix approached.
"Just wait a little longer. The negotiations are nearly finished..."
Elbridge gave no reply. He simply stared at the eastern sky and the purple clouds, still sorting through his tangled thoughts and trying to gauge when the demon would descend.
He murmured, "Goddess. You told me to do what is right. But I do not clearly know what that is."
"Yesterday it seemed you had firmed your resolve?"
"Looking back, I realize I have never truly worried about what is right. I have always been a piece upon the chessboard. A piece that moves when ordered. One that simply fights a little better than the rest..."
"Elbridge. It would be good if you valued yourself more."
"I am not trying to belittle myself. It is only that the question of right and wrong has always belonged to others. I simply waited quietly for orders and obeyed them."
At that moment, Marcus and Rombel—both heavily armed—pushed through the ring of holy knights.
"Hell of a mess here, hell of a mess there," Marcus grumbled.
They had gone out in Elbridge's stead to observe how events were unfolding while he remained half-confined within the temple.
"How is it?" Elbridge asked.
Rombel gave a hollow laugh. "Exactly what I said—a total mess. Especially around the Golden Platter Order. It's not even funny."
"Explain."
Rombel still couldn't stop chuckling, as though the memory itself was absurd.
"First, the combat-order knights are acting like agitators. What was it they kept saying... Marcus, you saw it too. Give us an impression."
Marcus put on a solemn face and recited in a grave tone, "Many must have suffered in agony again last night! Even more so those forced to watch their families endure it! We holy knights stand ready to give our lives the moment the demon appears! Yet our combat orders have no guarantee we can fight it and win! We already suffered a bitter defeat in Ashpen!"
He thrust out an arm, pointing dramatically into the air.
"The demon will descend soon! We need the power to secure certain victory! Yet the Golden Platter Order refuses our requests with every excuse imaginable, all to protect its own vested interests!"
When Marcus finished, Rombel picked up the thread.
"The crowd looks ready to burn the Golden Platter Order to the ground. The branded ones especially have completely lost their minds."
"Ugh..."
"Meanwhile the Golden Platter Order is explaining why they can't back down, but no one's buying it. If the believers hadn't physically blocked the perimeter with their bodies, the place would have been overrun already. And that's not all. The White Backs see how urgent things are and are driving up their price like mad..."
"People are just letting the White Backs get away with that?"
"No one dares say a word. The combat orders least of all. If the White Backs take offense, the whole situation could collapse. In the end it all comes down to how much support they can buy from them."
Rombel shook his head wearily. "Anyway, it's worse than the old days. Even back then we never had a circus like this."
Marcus suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right. Sir Elbridge, the vice-bishop of the Golden Platter Order said that if you get the chance, you should slip out and come to their temple..."
Just then the area around the Rusty Shield temple grew noisy. People unable to contain their fear, rage, and desperation began surging up the hill.
A woman at the front cried out, "Do something! I can't bear another night of that pain... I feel like I'm really going to die!"
The holy knights only shook their heads.
"The demon has not yet descended. Just two more days. No—one and a half days. Please endure a little longer. Two days will be enough to conclude negotiations and allocate new seats."
A young man shouted back, "You want us to suffer that agony twice more? Fine! I can endure it somehow! But my child might not! Yesterday and the day before he nearly stopped breathing!"
He patted the small child in his arms. The boy could not have been more than five or six, yet his face was unnaturally stiff, frozen in an expression that looked one breath away from a seizure.
As the crowd shouted over one another, the purple cloud began to convulse.
Rumble—
A black giant was hurled from within it. Tall as a spire, wreathed in what looked like living flame, it crashed to the ground with a deafening impact.
Boom—
The demon straightened, then began destroying everything around it as though the act were the most natural thing in the world.
The only mercy was that most nearby residents had already evacuated. Still, watching a lifetime of property reduced to rubble was hard enough. When compounded by the ceaseless torment of the stigmata, it became unbearable.
Driven past reason, the crowd screamed, "You're holy knights! Deal with that thing right now!"
A middle-aged holy knight tried to calm them. "If we charge in recklessly and lose, Soleneon is finished. Even after negotiations conclude, we must wait at least until the new year dawns."
But the uproar refused to die. People who once would have avoided a holy knight's gaze now hurled the crudest curses at them—vile enough that even Elbridge, standing apart from the mob, frowned.
Finally a young holy knight, unable to endure the humiliation, muttered, "Shameless bastards. They never gave a damn about the combat orders before, but now they can't wait two days before demanding we throw our lives away? You'd think we'd been entrusted with their firstborns..."
That was the spark. Several people charged the knights bare-handed.
"What the hell did you just say?"
Ordinary citizens stood no chance. The holy knights subdued and removed them with effortless efficiency, as if nothing had happened.
The clash ended quickly, but the atmosphere grew only uglier.
Frustrating. Must we truly wait until the new year? Or...
Elbridge lowered his head, deep in thought.
"Why the long face?" Rombel asked.
"I don't know what I should do right now."
"First time I've seen you look like that."
Elbridge pressed hard against his temples. "True. I've lived my whole life simply doing what I was told... Now that I'm trying to decide what the right choice is, my head keeps getting more tangled."
Rombel gave him a flat look. "Who asked about that? I'm asking why you're bothering to worry about it now."
"..."
Elbridge stared at his old friend.
Leaning on his axe like a walking stick, Rombel continued, "You never thought about any of this in the old days. You did what you were told. If something needed doing, you did it. So why are you suddenly trying to come up with some perfect, hundred-point answer?"
If it must be done, then do it.
No phrase described Elbridge's life better. He had hated demons because he was supposed to hate them. He had fought them because he was supposed to fight them. That was how he had lived.
"...But many things will change depending on how many seats are allocated this time."
"What kind of nonsense is that? Did the holy knights back then worry about seats? Fight well and you earned more. Fight poorly and you didn't. Did anyone refuse to fight because there weren't enough seats?"
Elbridge's eyes snapped wide open.
The oracle the Goddess of the Rusty Shield had given him yesterday rose clearly in his mind. To other gods, seats were the goal. To her, they were merely a means—and a result.
He had understood at once what it meant for seats to be a means. Only now did he grasp what it meant for them to be a result.
Seats were not something granted before the battle. They were what followed after fighting and sacrifice.
Elbridge rose from his seat.
Sensing the change, several holy knights approached.
"Sir Elbridge, please wait a little longer."
He shook his head. "I must move."
"No. You must wait. There is a way to minimize casualties right before us."
"Everyone. Do you truly believe the believers followed you simply because you fight well?"
"Well... yes, I suppose so."
Elbridge shook his head again. "The believers did not trust in your strength or skill. They trusted that in moments of danger the combat orders would fight for them. They trusted that holy knights would die before they did. Whether you fight well or poorly is secondary."
"Please, just wait a little longer. The unrest will die down soon."
A knight from the Laurel Wreath Order tried to persuade him, but Elbridge ignored the plea.
"Waiting may bring short-term gain. In the end it will prove a fatal mistake. No one in this world will trust holy knights who make excuses and postpone battle."
He steadied his breathing and spoke firmly to the gathered knights.
"Do not wait for the perfect moment. Do what can be done right now. As holy knights of the combat orders should."
Yet the knights did not move as he wished. Instead, several placed hands on their sword hilts, attempting to bar his path.
For some reason, Elbridge felt like laughing. The oracle given by the Goddess of Fox Rain had come to mind.
Flip the board.
Even if you turn every combat order into an enemy right now, it does not matter. Before long they will all kneel before you and beg for your help.
It must be so, he thought, for it was her oracle.
His shoulder blurred. The next instant, his blade sank into the shoulder of the knight standing foremost.
"Aaaagh—!"
The scream cut through the air. The murmurs and shouts that had filled the temple grounds fell instantly silent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for Elbridge's next words.
He looked at the holy knights and said, "That was a warning. From now on, if anyone gets in my way, I will cut off an arm with each offense."
He had to be stern. Since ancient times, no senior holy knight had ever shown leniency to an apprentice who hesitated before a demon.
Marcus froze solid at the sudden action.
No matter that the Goddess of Fox Rain gave an oracle, this is...
Rombel, however, burst into roaring laughter.
"Haha! Yes! That's how it's done!"
The holy knights faltered and parted.
They remembered what Elbridge had shown them in the last Grand Tournament. They knew he possessed the ability to carry out his threat.
Elbridge and Rombel walked between the knights who now avoided their eyes.
The chief holy knight of the Bloodied Spear Order stared at him for a moment. Elbridge met his gaze. In the end, even the chief looked away.
He had finally realized that Elbridge had never been a party to the negotiations.
The holy knights now stood behind him.
Elbridge turned back and spoke.
"Follow me. I will teach you how to face a demon."