The Thread of Dawn
There are way too many people here.
Far too many for any kind of underhanded move. The Wolf Mercenaries, Fredrick, the city guards, the priests… Kaisent considered using invisibility, but he doubted it would fool Fredrick’s eyes.
And I still don’t know whether the clergy can sense those threads or not.
If a priest whose thread vanished—or who felt someone touch it—started raising a ruckus, Kaisent might escape somehow, but he had no desire to bring trouble down on the Wolf Mercenaries.
Wait. Do I even need to get close enough to touch a priest?
He looked up. The threads connected to the priests rose as high as a three-story building before vanishing from sight.
At that height…
Kaisent ran a quick calculation in his head, then quietly summoned Mingming.
“The healing is complete.”
“Thank you, agents of the divine. This is a donation of gratitude.”
Fredrick handed the priests the purse he had prepared in advance, adding a smaller pouch as well. The number of wounded requiring treatment had grown larger than expected.
It was post-payment, and under the polite name of a “donation,” one might think a modest sum would suffice. But skimping would mean never being able to request healing from this order again. Word that the Wolf Mercenaries had given too little would spread through the entire church, and treatment would be refused. At that point they would have to seek another order—or pay an even larger “donation” to have their name struck from the blacklist.
The real problem was that the Church of Medelgard, goddess of dawn and purification, was a major order with branches even in small provincial towns.
“We did not act for the sake of coin, yet to reject a heartfelt offering is itself a sin. This money will be put to good use.”
Smiling serenely, the priests took the gold and disappeared into the city.
Fredrick loaded the wounded back onto the wagons and ordered them to rejoin Lillian.
“Kaisent.”
“Ah—yes? What is it?”
Fredrick spoke to the boy who had been sitting blankly in the wagon.
“You may not understand this, being from another world, but in ours, making enemies of the clergy makes life difficult in every possible way.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“It was your first time facing priests, so you couldn’t have known. But if something like this happens again, we will have to punish you to soothe their feelings.”
“…Yes……”
Kaisent bowed his head under Fredrick’s warning. Satisfied that the clever boy had taken the point, Fredrick let the matter drop.
After several tens of minutes on the road, the wagons rejoined the rest of the mercenary band, which had made camp a short distance from the battlefield.
“Fredrick. The wounded?”
“All fully healed. The rest only need a day’s rest.”
“Well done. Move the injured somewhere warm. We camp here tonight.”
“Yes, sir!”
Unexpected casualties had appeared, yet the mood among the mercenaries was better than one might expect.
“At least the captain doesn’t treat us like disposable tools.”
“Right? Any other company would have patched the wounds and left the rest to luck.”
The injuries had been an unfortunate accident caused by an unforeseen powerhouse—a vampire. On top of that, the captain had spent a fortune on healing without a second thought, enough money that hiring brand-new mercenaries would have been cheaper. Watching that, the men gained real trust that Wolf did not regard them as expendable. Those who wanted to leave had already left, and the bonds of the Wolf Mercenaries only grew tighter.
“Kaisent.”
“Yes?”
Lillian called to him.
“Once you finish repairing the gear, come to my tent.”
With that she walked off with Fredrick to discuss something. Even through the magically altered male voice, Kaisent could feel her concern for him. Whatever she wanted, he would learn when they met. He set to work repairing the spoils taken from the undead and the weapons the mercenaries had been using.
It was only restoration magic that fused cracked sections back together, yet even that alone raised the value of the equipment considerably.
“Hey, did you see that giant monster the vice-captain took down? Looked like it was melted together out of corpses.”
“Those weren’t natural undead.”
“The Saryeong Kingdom’s using the victims of the civil war to grind down our strength.”
“If this keeps up, won’t Halrot Kingdom fall to Saryeong?”
Scattered around their tasks, the mercenaries gathered in twos and threes, endlessly rehashing the day’s events.
Why did that vampire attack me in particular?
The talk of undead brought the question back to Kaisent. If the goal had simply been to kill them, there had been plenty of other methods. And while the vampire struck at him, it had carried no killing intent.
In other words, the aim had been capture, not death—yet what it intended after the kidnapping was beyond imagining. With the creature’s head destroyed, any chance of learning the truth had vanished completely.
“Repairs are finished. Come collect your own weapons.”
“Huh? Already?”
“It’s just the same spell over and over.”
Kaisent rose, telling them to sort it out themselves. He could not restore blades that had lost entire edges or been shattered beyond recognition, but perfectly fusing the cracks alone saved an overwhelming amount in repair costs.
“I’ll go see Wolf.”
“Sure. We’ll handle the rest.”
The mercenaries claimed their weapons and piled the remaining gear in one place for later sale or spare use. Leaving the cleanup to them, Kaisent headed for the captain’s private tent.
“Wolf. I’m coming in.”
He gave the signal at the entrance and stepped inside.
Whump!
“Mmph!?”
The moment he entered, Lillian swept him into her arms, burying his face between her breasts.
“Are you hurt anywhere!? If something hurts, tell me right now!”
“I-I’m fine.”
“I wanted so badly to help you……!”
When the vampire attacked Kaisent, she had burned to rush to his side, yet if she broke formation the entire Wolf Mercenary Band would have collapsed. In the end the vampire had been dealt with somehow, but the fact that she had been unable to help still weighed on her.
“Lillian. I’m truly all right. If you’d broken ranks to save me, people in the band would have died. You chose the best option.”
“…Thank you.”
Once their emotions settled, the two looked at each other—and the look became a kiss.
“—and I was so furious and so wronged I nearly started swearing! After I put my whole heart into saving everyone, they just spouted things that never happened!”
Nestled back-first in Lillian’s arms, Kaisent poured out every grievance against the priests. Their lies had cut deep into a boy whose concern for his comrades ran so strong.
Oh no. He’s so cute I might laugh.
The sight of Kaisent tucked snugly against her, venting his anger, looked exactly like a precious little doll. The way he flailed his arms and legs while fuming was almost enough to make her smile. Yet because Kaisent was completely serious, Lillian had to fight desperately to keep a straight face; she simply stroked his hair in silence.
“Lillian.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“You remember what I said before—about the threads hanging over the priests’ heads?”
“How could I forget?”
Hearing that something like that floated above a cleric’s head had been so unprecedented it had burned itself into her memory.
“Tonight… I’m going to slip into the city in secret.”
“To examine those threads?”
“Yes.”
Unlike Kaisent, who had grown up in a world without gods, Lillian lived in a place where the divine pressed close; she could not suppress her unease.
“I don’t know why only you can see them, but this is an extremely dangerous idea. In the worst case you could draw a god’s wrath. Do you really need to check?”
Kaisent possessed the talent to copy another’s technique simply by watching it once. She could not understand why he would deliberately court a risk that might anger a deity.
“Because that, too, is ‘power.’”
“Power……”
“I didn’t have enough power, and I was separated from the woman I was with—Dang Seol-yeong. I never know when that man, or someone like him, might attack again. So I want every scrap of strength I can get.”
The rage and sorrow he had suffered because he lacked power had shaped Kaisent’s entire worldview. Even though he was gentle by nature and disliked fighting, he now hungered for the power to kill others if necessary.
“All right. Don’t get caught, and come back safely.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
Lillian wrapped her arms around his back, sharing warmth. After a moment’s hesitation she spoke carefully.
“Kaisent…”
“Yes?”
“That… no. Never mind. This isn’t something to talk about right now.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll tell you when the time is right.”
“??”
She had wanted to ask whether he had already been intimate with Dang Seol-yeong. But if the answer was yes—how was she supposed to react? Lillian could no longer even imagine days without Kaisent, and she did not want to wound herself for nothing.
If Kaisent really has been with that woman named Dang Seol-yeong…
If the reason he searched for her so desperately was that they had already shared their bodies, then telling him to look only at her would backfire. Kaisent was fragile and timid, yet he also possessed a stubborn core that chose a path and walked it without wavering.
Have I always been this weak?
Living among mercenaries, she had thought herself roughened and toughened; in truth her feminine side had barely grown at all.
“Ah—and one more thing.”
Kaisent slipped free of her embrace and gently cupped her cheek.
“Wait for me tonight. The moment I finish the investigation and return, I’ll hold you.”
“Ah……♡ Yes……♡”
A heartbeat Fredrick could never give her. She could not refuse the command of this small male who turned her into a female.
Even if I’m a coward, it doesn’t matter. As long as I can feel this happiness…
Someday she would learn the truth, but for now this happiness alone was enough.
Running full speed, it’s surprisingly close.
After confirming the surrounding mercenaries were asleep, Kaisent slipped away and soon reached the outskirts of the city he had visited with Fredrick.
Flutter—
“Mingming, did you find it?”
“Caw—”
“Good girl.”
Sensing Kaisent’s presence, Mingming beat her wings and settled on his shoulder. He rewarded her with the insects and water he had prepared for locating the priests’ residence, then cast invisibility and lightly scaled the city wall.
Mingming guided the climbing boy toward the place where the priests slept.
“Caw—”
Naturally the priests did not all sleep in one building; each had his own mansion. Mingming led Kaisent to the house with the lowest roof among them.
Perched atop the two-story mansion whose wall color differed from its neighbors, Kaisent felt magical energy everywhere.
Alarm wards and traps made of magic. They’re set on every window—touching them carelessly would be dangerous.
If he had needed to break inside, it would have been a headache. But his goal was only the thread attached to a priest’s head. Spotting the thread that pierced up through the roof, he had no reason to force the window wards.
At last. I can examine this thread.
The fact that only he could see it already made it strange; more than that, it had been quietly irritating his nerves the entire time. He waved a hand through it—of course the thread passed through his fingers like a phantom.
If it had been that easy to grasp, that itself would have been a problem.
Huh?
The moment the thread passed through his hand, the cultivation method his father had taught him reacted violently.
In that case…
He circulated his internal energy at full power, focused every nerve, and tried again.
I’ve got it!
The thread that had felt like empty air only moments before now radiated a bizarre energy and asserted a fierce presence inside Kaisent’s grip. Carefully alternating hands so he would not lose it, he drew the thread upward until its tip finally appeared.
Every priest I’ve seen so far had one planted in their head. So…
Kaisent swallowed dryly and carefully guided the tip toward his own crown.
Ah—it’s trying to escape!
The thread that had hung motionless until now began thrashing the instant it entered his skull, desperate to flee.
What do I do? First, Father’s method…!
He poured everything into the cultivation technique again and felt the thread’s rejection.
Submit to me!
Confirming that the thread possessed at least a faint will of its own, Kaisent flooded it with both internal energy and raw mental force, pinning it so it could not flee. At last the thread abandoned its struggle and began linking itself to his brain.
Wh… what is this…?
At the same moment, information poured directly into his mind—not through his eyes, but straight into his head.
My faithful. Fulfill the will of the Dawn.
A voice of transcendent rank. Yet while he could sense the “rank,” the matching power and will were absent—like listening to the recorded message of a transcendent divine being on an answering machine.
It isn’t running anymore.
Once he heard that voice, the thread no longer tried to escape him.
The priests said they work miracles through prayer. In that case…
There was only one simple way to test it.
Kaisent looked at Mingming, took a deep breath, and sharpened his hand into a blade.
Poke!
It stiiings! Mingming!
He had cut himself just enough for a bead of blood to well on the back of his hand. Tears pricking his eyes from the pain, he appealed to the bird. Mingming hopped onto his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek with her head as if praising him for a job well done.
Enduring the sting under his pet’s “praise,” Kaisent moved to the next step.
Please… heal this wound!
He succeeded in offering a “sincere” prayer. A moment later he felt a power that was not his own flow down the thread and into his body. Gathering that power into his palm and releasing it through the back of his hand—
“…It’s healed……”
The small wound that had been beaded with blood vanished completely, pain and all. If not for the drying droplet still clinging above it, no one would have known a wound had ever existed.
That a black mage could wield holy power was already shocking enough. That he had stolen another’s holy power and made it his own was the sort of crime that would place a crusade-level bounty on his head from every church the moment it became known.
Having casually triggered an incident of that magnitude, Kaisent simply thought:
Now I never have to grovel before priests again!
He rejoiced that he would never again have to endure the filthy experience of that afternoon.