Rust Sets Palchea Ablaze #1
Shff—.
The moment the trial began, I rose from my seat and spoke.
"Judge Onduras, I object!!!"
"……."
Onduras.
He was a bald man with a severe, exacting face. His lips were thick, and his features were so covered in scars and burns that he looked less like a priest than a madman fresh from the battlefield. When his gaze fell on me, I flinched in spite of myself.
Inquisitors.
Standing before them always left me with a peculiar feeling. Some people tense up for no reason when a police officer walks past, even when they've done nothing wrong — I was probably that type.
"Black-haired Midbar man. Are you that bronze-cross priest, Hyde?"
Someone who knows about me, huh. Have I gotten a little famous?
The crowd around us stirred at once.
"Is that guy Hyde?"
"A Midbar is really wearing a bronze cross around his neck."
"Whoa, that's something else. A Midbar becoming a priest."
Midbar.
It had been a long time since I'd heard that word. For the record, the Midbar were the wild folk of the wasteland — a peculiar people with black hair and black eyes, not unlike Earth's gypsies in temperament. They supposedly practiced strange shamanism and worshiped curse-gods and idols, or so the stories went.
Anyway. The people of Palchea seemed to have decided I was one of them. Palchea was more racist than I'd expected.
"Priest Hyde of Agarpe. What do you wish to say?"
Inquisitor Onduras fixed his eyes on me. Meeting that snake-like stare, I refused to yield an inch.
"The presence of the Black Knights in this chamber has many people trembling with unease. Respected Inquisitor, I demand their withdrawal from this court."
Shff—.
What I looked at were the soldiers and knights in black cloaks. Their gazes snapped toward me in an instant, as if every one of them wanted to say, What the hell is this bastard?
I drove the spike home with a few more words.
"Inquisitor, you must be aware of the strange pamphlet that circulated last night? The innocent citizens of Palchea demand an explanation for the matters written therein."
"So the streets of Veneto were noisy for the first time in ages because of that paper? Bring it here."
Shff—.
I submitted NTR as evidence. As Inquisitor Onduras read it, his expression shifted by the second — veins rising on his forehead, bloodshot lines spidering through his eyes.
"This is circulating through the streets of Veneto?"
"That is correct. I understand that the one who indicted the defendants this time is Sir Roland of the Six Knights. I wish to question Sir Roland's qualifications. Does he even possess the right to condemn sinners in the first place?"
"Are you saying you wish to raise an objection against Six Knight Roland, against Pope Gregory who appointed him, and against the authority of Elohim who appointed that Pope? Hyde. You would do well to watch your tongue before an Inquisitor."
"How could I ever doubt the authority of Gregory and Elohim? I merely wish to speak of the character of the man Roland. For the record — I consider this entire trial itself to be invalid!!!!"
When I thundered that out at full volume, Inquisitor Onduras, who had been listening for some time, let out a low chuckle.
"I've heard about you. You nullified Oscar Archibold's trial and threw Archbishop Coramdeo into a panic. You even drove out a ghost at the Grande Nunnery."
My story reached an Inquisitor's ears?
An ominous feeling settled over me. Then Onduras slammed his fist down on the table before him with a crack that shattered the wood outright. The sight of the table exploding under his bare hand was brutal.
"If you think that silver tongue of yours will work here, you are mistaken. Knights! Throw that man out!"
Onduras. He meant to exclude me from this courtroom entirely. Truly a man whose thoughts sparkled as brightly as that gleaming bald head of his.
"Lord Onduras — if you cast me out, can you truly handle what follows? I am not speaking to you as a private individual, but as the will of Elohim! Do not judge the innocent!"
In my view, Lucy — gagged and trembling over there — was innocent. When witch trials began, the number of people found not guilty was vanishingly close to zero. If this trial continued as planned, she would not escape extreme punishment. If I had to stand by and watch an innocent person die, how could I call myself a clergyman? Wasn't the foundation of proper justice that even if you let a hundred villains go free, you free the one innocent soul?
"Shut up and get over here!"
"You son of a bitch! You dare condemn us?"
The black knights seized my wrists. Was I going to be dragged off helplessly like this?
No.
"Walpurgis! The reason you are rushing this witch trial is because you intend to draw out the witches of Walpurgis, is it not! Indeed — there are likely several witches mixed among this very crowd!"
The odds of this Palchea witch trial proceeding peacefully to its end were also close to zero. Why? Because the witches of Walpurgis were in this region. Anemone of the Grande Nunnery. And Ishtar, whom Rust had driven out yesterday. That was already two. Witches were like cockroaches — if there were two, there might be ten, or a hundred. The trials of Lucy, Anemone, and the others were almost certainly a trap meant to lure the witches out. Heretics, whether in the twenty-first century or this world, possessed an exceptional sense of belonging to their own, and the witches' council was especially strong in that regard. They would interfere with the trial, disrupt it, and try to snatch Lucy and the nuns away for kidnapping and brainwashing. In that process, Nicholas and the Black Knights would capture them and claim the glory — that was the plan.
"You— you son of a bitch! Who was it! Who talked! Fuck! Who leaked the operation to that bastard!?"
Nicholas. The man who had kept his mouth shut all day with a sullen face now roared in panic at everyone around him. He was mistaken about something — I hadn't particularly heard this from anyone. The Black Knights' operations were always reckless and always involved sacrifices.
"If this trial proceeds as planned, witches may interfere and cause countless casualties! Inquisitor Onduras — do you intend to drive these countless commoners to a dog's death?"
Onduras closed his mouth. Then he frowned, looking thoroughly exhausted and flustered.
"So. What is it you want from me? Are you telling me to pretend this trial never happened?"
"No. There's no need for that. Instead, entrust the trial itself to me. Then I will wipe out the witches of Walpurgis and the sinners in one stroke."
"What nonsense. Entrust a witch trial to a mere bronze-cross priest?"
"Onduras, I have clearly warned you. If the Blood Crusade led by Rust mixes among this crowd and runs amok, ruining everything — it will not be my responsibility."
"…The Blood Crusade?"
As Onduras frowned, someone shouted from among the crowd.
"Hyde — grab that son of a bitch! Let's offer him as a sacrifice for Lord Rust!"
"Fuck! Just like Lord Rust said — Hyde figured out we exist!"
"That bastard will become our greatest enemy! We have to catch him and kill him before that!!!"
What on earth is going on—
Psyche watched her husband Hyde with eyes full of both anxiety and deep trust. If it was Hyde, he would somehow handle this strange trial — that was what she was thinking, when strange people burst from the crowd in an instant.
They were a group with red crosses painted on their faces, or crude masks pulled over their heads.
"Grab Hyde!"
"If we catch that man, we can receive 'baptism' from Lord Rust!"
Their numbers were roughly thirty. What they were after was Psyche's husband, Hyde.
"Hyde!"
Psyche tried to run toward him. Husband Hyde was a man skilled at many things — but when it came to violence, he was so helpless he could not even protect his own body.
"Don't push!"
"What's going on!"
But the panic of the densely packed crowd left Psyche trapped between bodies, unable to go forward or back.
"Lucy! Are you all right!"
Psyche shoved through the people and managed to reach only Lucy. Soon the gag came free from Lucy's mouth, and she spoke.
"I'm fine! There are so many people! Is the mainland always like this!? This is so exciting! But where did Hyde go? Hyde!"
"Hyde—"
Then Psyche's eyes caught Hyde hastily fleeing through gaps in the crowd. She tried to go after him, but a man blocked her path.
"I am Hans, the Chief Baptized of Lord Rust!"
He was a man swinging a sword without mercy. Psyche, who had not brought a blade, had no choice but to give ground for a moment.
"Sir Galatea! I am Hans, the Second Baptized of the great Lord Rust! I have come to save you! Here — I shall give you a sword!"
"Aaaah! I can feel Lord Rust with me! He is here!"
Utter chaos. From the high platform, Onduras watched the scene, seized the mace at his waist, and roared.
"Black Knights! Cut down the heretics!"
"Fuck! Draw your swords!"
The knights and soldiers in black cloaks struggled to bring the situation under control somehow.
"Argh, fuck! I'm a regular citizen, you son of a bitch!"
"The Black Knights are killing civilians!"
"Kill all these bastards!"
But the anger and resentment toward the black-cloaked criminals had already reached its peak — and with this as the spark, it exploded completely.
"I don't know what's going on, but sisters! Now's the time! Save the women!"
"The Walpurgis of Palchea brings down the goddess's divine punishment!"
Women drawing swords, clubs, and spears appeared as well. A complete free-for-all.
"Haha—! This is gonna be fun! Fuck! I am free! No one can stop me! Kya-hahaha!"
"Argh, fuck! What's with this swirl-mask bitch! Where the hell did she come from!"
"I am Las of the Great Sin Seat! And anyone who stands in my way, I'll crush to death! Nicholas! Where's that son of a bitch! Discriminating bastard! You fucker — I'll make you a eunuch!"
As screams rang out on every side and the smell of blood thickened, Psyche felt tears rising.
"Stop…"
People were killing each other, cursing each other, screaming. Countless souls were heading straight for hell. Looking at the scene, Psyche's heart ached beyond endurance.
"…Everyone, stop fighting!"
Psyche shouted. But her voice could not even make a small noise amid the roaring crowd.
She clenched her fist. Her heart felt ready to break — but she thought of her husband Hyde.
If it was Hyde, he would never give up, no matter what.
She drew a breath and cried out with everything she had: "Everyone, stop—!!!!!!!!!"
One. Two—.
People began to stop moving. It started far away and spread. Even those pointing swords at each other, even those who had been doing nothing but rage-filled screaming and destruction, halted one by one — as if they had made a promise.
Psyche felt hope rise in her chest.
Did my earnest heart reach them…!? Hyde — thanks to you, I could find the strength!
However—
Psyche quickly realized she was wrong. When the people stopped and opened a path, a man in a red robe with a strange mask over his face was walking down that path.
He was a human like soot that had spontaneously appeared on a sunny day. As ominous as an undertaker who shows up uninvited on a wedding day. There were several thugs wearing red-cross masks — but that man was different. Just as a tiger-striped cat differs from a tiger, the feeling, the force, the sheer pressure of presence was not the same.
Las of the swirl mask, who had been beating down black knights and soldiers by the handful, cried out in ecstasy.
"That guy — he's the real one—."
"Lord Rust! This foremost servant Hans shall become a chair for you! Please sit upon my body!"
Shff—.
The former soldier Hans stretched his arms on the ground and prostrated himself like a chair. The man called Rust sat on that back without the slightest hesitation. The sight was extremely blasphemous and sacrilegious — and yet, on the other hand, it was like a monarch taking his throne, radiating something almost holy. Soon one person, then another, began to shed tears.
"Lord Rust. The First Baptized Galatea is your servant."
"I— I've never seen him in person. That form is just like…"
Shff—.
Rust raised his index finger and brought it before his mask. With that, the surroundings fell instantly silent — and the man who hid everything behind the mask finally opened his mouth.
It was a bizarre judgment. Soon Chair Hans shouted.
"As expected! The reason we are alive in this world is because Lord Rust has sentenced us to punishment! We are imprisoned for life in a prison called the flesh! Yes! That's why we must not casually commit suicide! Because we must receive Lord Rust's punishment to the very end! I, the Chief Baptized, can see it!"
"…S-so that was it! The reason we must not commit suicide is because we have to fully receive Lord Rust's punishment!"
"The reason my life was so hard was because I was already receiving punishment!"
"Could it be that my wife running off with the black knights was also a punishment Lord Rust gave me!"
The howling of madmen. Then a woman with a shaved head burst forth. She was the witch Katarina, a member of the Walpurgis council — in these parts a famous villain known as Heart-Rupturer Katarina.
"Are you Rust? How dare you, in Palchea that we worked so hard to occupy—"
Her words never finished. A woman with a swirl mask leapt from the air and stomped Katarina's head flat.
KWAANG—!
"Aaaaaaah!!!! How dare a worthless bitch interrupt while Rust is speaking!"
One blow. A death as scorching as boiling magma. Watching it, Inquisitor Onduras was thoroughly shaken.
I thought it would be good if the heretics fought and killed each other. But that Katarina of Walpurgis couldn't even be a match? Katarina was a human butcher who killed several silver-cross knights! What the hell are these people!
Onduras decided he had to escape. In fact, most of the Black Knights who were supposed to keep the peace seemed to have already fled. Knight Nicholas was nowhere to be seen either.
These criminal bastards. Do you know how much I've sweated cleaning up the crimes and disasters you lot have caused until now! And you run away at a time like this? You fucking bastards!
As Onduras was scheming a way out of the situation—
"You people! How truly rude and wicked! Everyone, stop this madness!"
Someone shouted. Turning his head, he saw the beautiful woman Psyche holding the pitiful defendant Lucy in her arms, furious. Looking at that, the demonic villain Rust tilted his head.
He spoke.
"Bring that wench before me."