Hyde Sets Out on a Heretic Purge! #2
Selim, Doctor of Theology.
He prided himself on being the smartest man in all of Agarpe.
He had shown talent in theology, medicine, literature—everything, really—and rhetoric was his particular specialty.
In this entire Agarpe territory, I'm the only one who can do four-digit multiplication and division in my head.
Selim's pride ran every bit as deep as that of his rival, Loras.
No—deeper. More arrogant.
He had always believed that a man of his caliber, who ought to be making a name for himself in the royal capital or the Holy Land or somewhere like Fierenzo, was doing Agarpe a special favor by "serving" here.
And now some foreigner who had barely just become a live-in son-in-law had the gall to say this to him:
"Please exclude Selim from the treatment. Even just one week would be enough."
One week.
He meant to separate Dihon from him for that long.
Selim was certain this was some scheme cooked up by that wretched son-in-law.
So he wants to get his hands on Dihon and control the family's future?
Selim knew men like Hyde the live-in son-in-law all too well.
Because he thought the exact same way himself.
Someday, when Dihon inherited the count's seat, the real power behind Agarpe would belong to the man Dihon so devotedly followed—himself.
The moment that thought settled in, Selim could no longer stand to leave Hyde alone.
"And if Young Master Dihon dies because he goes a whole week without treatment? Oho—could that be your real aim? A live-in son-in-law with ambitions to seize the storied House of Agarpe for himself, is that it?"
"Shut your mouth, you ignorant bastard! All you do is scheme how to profit off a sick child, and you still call yourself a priest? You fraud!"
"Ig-ignorant—?!"
For a moment, Selim's words caught clean in his throat.
It was not that he had been cowed by the live-in son-in-law, nor that he was obeying the order to shut up. His mouth had simply stopped working of its own accord.
It's so absurd I can't even form a sentence. Fine. I'll listen to whatever garbage you're spouting. And then I'll dismantle every last word of it!
Selim was nothing like Loras, a man who trusted only in strength and valor.
He would thrash this live-in son-in-law thoroughly—and it was just as he was thinking that when Doban asked:
"Son-in-law. Do you have a way to cure Dihon?"
"I don't have the tools or the conditions right this moment, but I know where I can get them. The lair of the Crescent Moon Sisterhood. Send me there!"
"The Crescent Moon Sisterhood?"
Doban's brow twitched.
Heretics who had been causing trouble throughout the Durgien province.
What possible connection could there be between curing Dihon and going to the heretics said to have slaughtered Priest Manaan and his party in Agarpe territory?
"Oho! So you mean to join hands with the witches and work some foul sorcery on Dihon!"
Selim crowed, swelling with triumph, and Count Doban's thoughts scattered in every direction.
His head simply refused to turn properly, in more ways than one.
I've never been good at drawing up plans or strategies. That's Medici Archibold's specialty. What am I supposed to do here—
Doban could not claim to be a clever man, but he was upright.
And he trusted something that might be called instinct, or gut feeling.
It was that instinct that had led him to ally with the royal house.
It was that same instinct that had led him to betray them—and in the end, Agarpe had survived.
Which way is that instinct pointing now…
Selim, the Doctor of Theology—a fellow countryman whom Agarpe had even sent abroad to study on their coin.
Hyde, a man of unknown origins who had entered the family as a live-in son-in-law.
Doban looked from one face to the other, then let out a quiet sigh.
"In two days' time, a suppression force led by Oscar Archibold and Loras is scheduled to march against the Crescent Moon Sisterhood. Hyde—I'll make a place for you among them."
"Oh!"
Hyde clenched his fists tight.
Selim was briefly annoyed by Count Doban's decision, but the irritation quickly gave way to a sneer.
The Crescent Moon witches are violent, barbaric pagans. The bounties on their heads are enormous. Suppress them? They're all going to die.
Oscar, Loras, and the live-in son-in-law Hyde.
If every last one of them died on a cultist purge, nothing could possibly suit Selim better.
I get to sit back and reap the rewards? I really am brilliant.
"Hyde, I heard! You're leaving with the soldiers to suppress the Crescent Moon Sisterhood? Why didn't you even consult me about something like this? I'm your wife!"
Psyche.
The moment I stepped into the room, she seized my forearm.
Squeeeeze—.
Crunch. Crack—.
Her grip was so fierce I half-expected the bones to splinter.
Psyche was far too strong.
As my arm was being crushed in that vise, I found myself wondering what would have happened if she and I had successfully consummated our wedding night.
If Psyche so much as shifted an arm or a leg the wrong way on the bed, wouldn't my body just shatter into pieces?
The fact that this was not an exaggeration at all sent a quiet chill down my spine.
Of course I kept that thought to myself and spoke with easy composure.
"Have no fear, Psyche. I have no intention of making a widow of you."
"That's not what I was worried about!"
"Then what?"
"No… actually, that was a lie. We only just became husband and wife—of course I was worried about becoming a widow. Wouldn't it be better if I went with you? Hyde, your skill with a sword or in martial arts is, to be honest…"
"Pathetic, yes."
I admitted it freely.
My stamina was decent enough, but I had no talent whatsoever for martial arts or combat techniques.
The soldiers and knights of this world used holy power and aura to slice through logs like tofu, after all.
But I truly had no gift in that direction.
If I had, life would have been twice as easy.
"Then I'll go with you after all."
Swoosh—.
Psyche's eyes lit with resolve.
I was glad to feel how much she wanted to protect me, but I had to refuse.
"Psyche, when was the last time you held a sword?"
"That's—"
"When you took my hand before, there wasn't a single callus on yours. I know better than anyone how exceptional your valor is—but please, guard the family. Without Loras and without you, there is no one left to protect House Agarpe."
Whether she found my words sound or not, Psyche offered no rebuttal.
The persuasion must have landed.
And I had meant every word.
Of course, the real reason I didn't want Psyche on the suppression force was something else entirely.
The truth was, I had zero desire to throw Psyche in with a pack of men. Loras, Oscar, and a whole pack of wolfish soldiers.
Dump Psyche in a place crawling with those types?
Who knew what kind of mess would break out?
Judging by the slimy personalities of Loras and Oscar, those bastards would absolutely set some deliberate trap just to humiliate her.
One hundred percent.
I knew the petty man's heart all too well.
Of course, their petty schemes would end with this expedition.
I had already drawn up a plan to bury Oscar and Loras right alongside the Crescent Moon Sisterhood during this purge.
And if things went well, I'd also make real progress toward curing Dihon's heart condition—and thoroughly smash Selim's nose into the dirt while I was at it.
Truly killing two birds with one stone.
Using barbarians to fight barbarians.
I really am brilliant.
"Hyde, I'm going to take up the sword again."
Just then, Psyche clenched her fist and made her vow.
Then she looked me in the eyes and said it once more.
"I'll train hard, hone my swordsmanship, and become stronger than anyone."
A truly excellent ambition.
As far as I was concerned, I had exactly one weakness: a lack of raw combat power.
Without it, so many things had been harder than they needed to be.
I had lost count of the times I'd nearly died.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—for the past five years, an ironclad sentinel had stuck right by my side, lending me her strength in my place.
Las of the Great Sin Seat.
I had loathed that creature with every fiber of my being, but if I was being honest, I had no idea how many times I had survived purely because of her.
In this life, it would be perfect if Psyche filled that role.
Before I knew it, two days had passed.
The hour of departure for the soldiers and knights.
Oscar Archibold and the twenty troops he had brought with him.
Plus nineteen Agarpe soldiers led by the Bronze-rank knight Tristan.
Three knights and nearly forty soldiers—the sheer size of the force left the onlookers' mouths hanging open in awe.
"It's been a long time since this many soldiers marched out at once."
"Feels like the old war days."
Moving forty soldiers at once outside of wartime was no common sight. It spoke to just how determined they were to crush the Crescent Moon Sisterhood.
"Hey, Loras—long time no see. Well, I saw you yesterday, but still. That Holy Crusade cloak suits you."
"Tristan. How've you been?"
"More importantly, Loras—why do you keep grinning like that? Showing off that nickname of yours, the 'Smiling Knight'?"
"No, something funny just keeps looping through my head. Haha. Hahaha—. I can't stop laughing—whew—. Anyway, brother, I'm counting on you! Haha!"
Swoosh—.
The two plate-armored knights clasped gauntlets hard enough to ring out with a sharp crack.
Tristan, knight of Agarpe.
And Loras, formerly a knight of Agarpe himself.
The two of them seemed to get along rather well.
It was the kind of scene you'd see in a movie about football players and their brotherhood, and it made my face twist.
Were these bastards gay or what?
According to Scripture, few sins were as abominable as homosexuality.
I, of course, genuinely despised it.
I couldn't even stand another man's hand or body touching mine.
Anyway.
For someone who had left Agarpe, Loras sure was busy extending his hand, shaking with Tristan and the Agarpe soldiers, showing off how close they all were.
I already knew he had a good reputation among the troops, so it wasn't surprising.
"Paulo, you sure about this? There's going to be all kinds of danger. It's not too late—head back to the manor and go sweep some floors."
Loras ruffled a little kid's hair.
The kid called Paulo.
Looking closer, it was that broom-boy who'd been so fired up about becoming a knight.
Paulo said:
"I'm going to earn merit on this expedition no matter what, so it'll help me get a knighthood someday! Of course, all I'll be doing on this force is odd jobs, but…"
"Odd jobs matter too!"
"That's right! Somebody's got to do the dishes!"
The soldiers and knights roared with laughter.
Then Loras's gaze turned to me.
"Are you truly coming along? You could stay here and enjoy a pious, blissful honeymoon with Lady Psyche. The battlefield is no place for bookish types like yourself."
As he spoke, he pulled something peanut-shaped from his pocket and started chewing.
Castor beans—ricinus seeds.
"Whew. That's better."
Chewing a toxic substance that would send ordinary people into immediate vomiting and convulsions, Loras flexed a thick vein between his brows.
The way his bloodshot eyes kept darting around, he was clearly looking for Psyche.
Psyche would be swinging a sword right about now.
Soon Oscar Archibold raised his hand.
"Then, valiant warriors of the Holy Crusade! By the will of our Father in Heaven and our Lord, let us raise our banners toward the purge of the pagans! Lift high the cross!"
Waaaaah—!
With a deafening roar, the soldiers began their advance.
The schedule for this purge was three days.
Three days of forced march to raid the Crescent Moon Sisterhood's stronghold.
"How did you find out where the Crescent Moon Sisterhood's base is?"
Paulo, the boy who dreamed of knighthood, trotted along after the mounted knight Loras like a squire and asked.
Oscar Archibold answered in his place.
"A few of the Crescent Moon Sisterhood's officers spilled everything to the inquisitors this time. Have you heard of Blue Beard Faltman, the wicked woman Nicola, and the turncoat Nomad?"
Those were all bastards I had caught and handed over.
So they had finally sung about everything.
Well, that was how the Crescent Moon Sisterhood's stronghold had been exposed.
Of course, I had known the location of that base from the start.
But if I had acted like I knew, I would have gotten something like, "You—how do you know that?! Are you in league with them?!" so I had simply kept quiet.
Paulo said:
"Blue Beard, the wicked woman, the turncoat—nicknames like that mean they're horrible villains, right? Someday I want to capture high-bounty evildoers myself and make a name! And with my own hands, I'll catch a Great Sin Seat too!"
The soldiers burst out laughing again at Paulo's words.
Oscar Archibold ruffled the boy's hair.
"Courage is fine, but if you ever meet a Great Sin Seat, run. They are not human—they are living demons. Facing them is pure folly."
"Th-that… even with a force this size, we couldn't capture a Great Sin Seat? We've got three knights and nearly forty soldiers! Isn't that enough to take a fortress?"
Young Paulo looked a little disappointed.
Someone could have said "We could capture one easily enough" just to spare the boy's dreams, but not a single person was reckless enough to claim it.
If anything, the soldiers looked faintly uneasy at the mere mention of the Great Sin Seats' names.
"Somebody shut that kid's mouth. Gives me a bad feeling. Why are there so many damn crows around?"
"What's the worst that could happen? I heard the Crescent Moon Sisterhood's leader is only Bronze-rank. With Sir Loras, Sir Baldwin, and Sir Tristan, we've got the upper hand."
"Yeah—the Crescent Moon Sisterhood may be a threat, but compared to the Psychos or Walpurgis, they're a small-time heretic outfit."
So the soldiers were getting restless.
And for some reason my ears were itching.
Treating people like monsters.
Of course, the me of right now was not a Great Sin Seat—I was Hyde, a devout, pure-hearted man of faith more pious and reliable than anyone, and a husband.
None of that had anything to do with me—that was the idea.
And it would stay that way.
Still, just in case—
Swoosh.
I carefully checked the one piece of luggage that could be called mine: the black mask inside my bag.
A plain iron mask I had specially commissioned from a blacksmith in Agarpe territory.