The Unlucky Priest #2

People hauled water in buckets and put out the fire.

As the stench of burning stung the nose, the wicked woman Nicola shouted toward the crowd.

"Citizens of Sodomy! Listen! This man groped my chest without permission and even set the place on fire! Trash like this ought to be hanged!"

Nicola pointed her finger at me without the faintest idea of her own fate. Her face was smeared black with soot, tears welling in her eyes—her acting was genuinely excellent.

But no matter how well Nicola performed, one fact remained unchanged.

Nicola was a villain without equal under heaven, and I was a kind, upright fellow citizen, more virtuous than anyone.

I raised my voice toward the people with righteous confidence.

"I am innocent! But this wicked woman and her husband, Blue Beard, are unspeakable criminals who sold people off to cultists!"

My voice rang out, booming through the dark city alley.

I had always dreamed of standing at a pulpit as a pastor, so I could pride myself on a voice more thoroughly trained than most.

At my words, Nicola went pale with panic.

"S-slander! Everyone! It's slander! You're not going to believe some foreigner, are you? The doctor and I are nothing but decent people! How can you make accusations like this without any evidence—"

"Evidence? I have it! Right here on this chest!"

I lunged toward Nicola.

Then I seized the blackened fabric over her chest and yanked it hard.

"Kyaaah! This man is molesting me in the street!"

"Everyone, look at this!"

The cloth tore free.

And there, near her left shoulder, a strange mark was revealed.

A pitch-black crescent moon tattoo, about the size of a thumb.

"G-get your hands off me!"

Nicola hurriedly covered her chest with her palms, but the people's eyes had already witnessed the white flesh of her bosom.

"Th-that's the mark of the Crescent Moon Sisterhood!"

"A witch!"

"Burn the witch!"

The crowd began roaring up at the sky in fury.

As I recalled it, the Crescent Moon Sisterhood was a heretical outfit that had nested itself around this city of Sodomy and throughout the province of Durgien.

Until they were absorbed into the Blood Crusade, they had done every vile thing imaginable—human trafficking, human sacrifice, the lot.

Five years ago, Nicola and Blue Beard had sold me off to that Crescent Moon Sisterhood, and at the time she had shown them the sisterhood's mark on her own shoulder.

Being deceived then had been so bitterly unfair that even five years later I still could not forget that day.

"Citizens! Seize the wicked Nicola and Blue Beard Faltman and drag them before the tribunal! You must show these heathens that justice still lives in the city of Sodomy!"

"Aaaagh! Aaagh! You Midbar savage bastard! Uwaaaagh! Aaaagh! I'm innocent! I'm innocent, I tell you! I'm innocennnnt!!!"

Nicola was seized by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠burly men and hauled off somewhere. She kept protesting her innocence, but the crescent tattoo was damning proof of sin from which there was no escape.

Now she would be handed over to the heresy inquisition.

The odds of anyone taken by those people on charges of heresy coming back in one piece were zero.

That was why, every time I crossed paths with those Inquisitors on the street, my heart would hammer like mad.

Was this how criminals felt every time a police car rolled past?

"Well—none of my business now!"

The me of the present was not a cultist. I was Hyde, a deeply devout man of faith.

Originally I had been tricked by Nicola and Blue Beard, sold into heresy, and made a member of a cult—but I had burned Nicola's stronghold and handed her over to the inquisitors, so the future had already changed!

Utterly satisfying!

From here on, there would be absolutely no entanglement between me and those heretical cultists!

No more being called the Great Sin Seat Rust, no more living in fear of fire and the breaking wheel!

"In this world, I will become a clergyman!"

I fixed the goal in my mind once more and steeled my resolve.

The two fists I clenched felt especially solid.

"So… what do I do now?"

Simply making a resolution was not enough.

A person's heart only gains true weight when it is put into action.

I thought quickly about what I needed to do to become a pastor in this world.

And the answer came to me in less than ten seconds.

There had always been a path I dreamed of in my heart.

To be recognized as a "clergyman" in this world, two conditions were required.

Meeting those two conditions demanded blood-shedding effort and passion, and the me of the past five years had never even been given the chance to pour that effort and passion out.

But now it was different.

With new time granted to me, I was a man ready to pour blood and sweat into effort and passion more than anyone!

"We have safely captured the wicked Nicola and Blue ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Beard Faltman! It is all thanks to you. We will need to interrogate them further, but from what has already come to light, those two will not escape extreme punishment!"

The day after I had kindled the Holy Spirit's flame upon Nicola's house, people from the Church came looking for me as I slept rough on the street.

They offered their thanks—and a bounty.

"Turns out those wretched scum were wanted criminals out west in the province of Durgien. This is a reward sent on behalf of the Bishop of Durgien. Five silver."

In this world, most criminals had bounties placed on their heads. Put another way, it was only once a bounty was posted that someone was truly recognized as a criminal and a villain.

That was also when the pursuit by bounty hunters began—and the higher the bounty, the more terrifying Inquisitors and hunters would attach themselves to the chase.

Yet among the villains, there were those who took pride in watching their bounty climb higher and higher. The Great Sin Seat Las was one of those—a thoroughly insane woman.

…Oh, shit…

Just recalling Las's mad exploits sent a chill crawling over my whole body. In this life I would never have to face her, and that was a genuine blessing.

I collected the bounty for Nicola and Blue Beard.

Five silver was enough, if I pinched every coin, to cover room and board at a cheap inn for about seven days.

But when I opened the pouch, there were only two silver inside.

"Why only two silver?"

"We deducted the one-fifth tithe, the thanksgiving offering, and the kingdom's tax. One silver each."

"……"

Tch.

I had been awarded a five-silver bounty, and they had skimmed one silver as an offering and another as tax. On top of that, the church of this barbaric world did not take a tithe of one-tenth—they took a one-fifth.

Straight-up highway robbers, the lot of them.

"Two silver. Excellent."

But it was fine.

Offerings were better the more you gave, after all.

And for what I intended to do, two silver would be enough.

Still, better to be sure. I asked.

"You said you came from the Church? Would you happen to know where the monastery near Sodomy is?"

"A monastery?"

The Church errand-runner looked me over and raised an eyebrow.

Then he stroked his beard and cleared his throat with a pointed ahem.

Is he asking for money?

I was turning over how I could not possibly hand over the two silver I had when the man spoke.

"I am an extremely busy man, but I shall make a special exception and tell you. Ride a carriage forty miles out from Sodomy and you will find Emeris Monastery, founded atop a rocky mountain."

Emeris Monastery, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is it…

A name I had never heard before.

Not a particularly famous monastery, then?

More to the point—forty miles. Roughly sixty kilometers, give or take.

What a miserable unit of measurement.

"If you go to the monastery and give them my name—Hans—they will treat you well. And I would appreciate it if you told the abbot that I took time out of my busy schedule to show a traveler the way."

So he wants a little credit instead of cash. Got it.

I nodded and said, "Understood," then set out for the monastery at once.

Fortune seemed to be blowing my way—at the city gate I managed to hitch a free ride on a departing freight wagon.

The smell of feed was foul, but my mood was good.

After all, I was going to a monastery to train.

Yes.

Training.

To be recognized as a clergyman in this world, one had to cultivate deep discipline until something called holy power settled into the body.

Through holy power, clergy could heal the freshly wounded, bestow blessings, and even stop incoming arrows.

The holy knight orders that had so often stood in my way had been like that too—and they had been thoroughly cool.

But I was a human from the twenty-first century, and for the five years I had been lost in this world I had been forced to throw in with a cult, so I had never had time to cultivate that holy power.

"But now it's different."

I intended to go to the monastery and acquire holy power.

I did not know how long it would take, but I was a body that had been granted the miracle of a second life, so it was certain I enjoyed the Lord's favor.

I might even surpass the week it had supposedly taken a saintess to awaken her holy power.

No—I would definitely surpass it.

I was destined to become a clergyman more devout and faithful than anyone!

Riding the wagon with that feeling for about a day, a rocky mountain truly came into view.

"Who're you?"

At the gloomy monastery entrance, a middle-aged balding man digging a hole with a shovel looked up at me.

I spoke to him.

"I wish to train at the monastery. I came on the introduction of a man named Hans."

"…Hans's introduction? Hmm…"

The shovel-man looked me over from head to toe.

"This monastery's history runs deep, but a Midbar man coming to train is a first. Wait a bit. I'll go speak to the abbot."

After roughly thirty minutes of waiting, the man who had vanished somewhere reappeared.

"You can stay. But black-haired Midbar folk often ignore the Word of God and live lawlessly, so an identity deposit is required. One silver."

So I had to hand over one of my two silver.

I received an extremely tattered robe and became an official guest of the monastery.

I was also issued an identity token.

That was what had been crudely carved into the small wooden tablet: my name.

It was only a Wood Badge identity token—neither bronze nor Iron Badge—but I was so happy I felt I might take flight.

"Monk Hyde. Cenobite Hyde."

What a magnificent ring it had.

A thousand times, ten thousand times better than the demonic beast Rust.

And with an identity token, a great many things could be done legally.

Five years ago I had not known that, and I had suffered for it.

"Cough—Monk Hyde. Come this way."

A sly-looking monk in a gray robe guided me to a room.

But this bald bastard—when had he ever met me, that he was already speaking down to me on first acquaintance—

"!"

I flinched hard.

My way of thinking just now had been far too cultist. Five years as a cult officer had made my heart this narrow!

According to the First Epistle of John, even hating someone in your heart was the sin of murder.

As I resolved to keep even my thoughts devout from now on, the monk handed me a small scroll.

"I am Puccino, supervisor of the monks. It would be wise for you to follow my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠words carefully from now on. Memorize this passage with all your heart, every day. Cough—or… before that, can you even read?"

Letters.

This world used a script that looked roughly like the alphabet.

Illiteracy was said to run near seventy percent.

I too had once struggled because I could not read these characters—but not anymore.

"Elohim is my Lord, and I am the Lord's servant."

When I read the letters aloud, Monk Puccino looked mildly surprised.

He soon cleared his throat with an ahem, said, "There is a daily schedule here, so you must live by the rules every day," and then swept out of the room.

I paid no mind to whether he left or not and looked down at the scroll.

This special passage was a particular prayer that clergy had to recite in order to become people of faith. If you kept chanting it, holy power was said to settle into the body!

Whether that was truly so or not, my body felt strangely warm.

Was holy power already beginning to take root?

Even by my own reckoning, the progress was remarkably fast.

At this rate, what would I do if they started calling me a saint?

"Heh heh heh. At this pace, I'll master holy power within a week."