Chapter 133
Chapter 133
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Raikiman
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Thud! Thud!
Arrows rained from the sky.
The thick spears held by the mounted knights threatened them.
A week had passed since Boitra Forest burned.
The imperial army was still hunting them down.
To be precise, the pure white pilgrim.
Kallias.
Clang! Clash!
Kallias deflected the incoming arrows with his sword and yanked the reins.
Clop clop clop!
Arrows embedded where he had stood, and the knights seized the opening to thrust their spears at him.
Whoosh!!
He hurled the spear with bulging muscles.
The spear left the knight's hand like an arrow, aiming straight for Kallias's chest.
The timing was perfect, and the power and skill behind the throw were impressive.
The moment it left his hand, the knight thought:
*It'll pierce that bastard's chest.*
“Hyah!”
But the world wasn't so forgiving.
A small pilgrim suddenly leaped up and swung a massive hammer, batting away the knight's spear in one blow!
“What the—!”
That wasn't all.
Thud! Thunk thunk!
“Gahk!”
“Urk!”
Arrows loosed by several pilgrims struck not where intended, but pierced the hearts of soldiers and knights with deadly precision.
Some even burst into sudden flames.
A beast that ambushed from the rear, wreathed in lightning, sliced through the soldiers.
The lizardman at the front toyed with them—feinting as if to flee or attack—before skewering their skulls one by one.
“R-R-R-Retreat…! Gurk!”
The moment he tried to call for retreat.
The pure white pilgrim had already leaped over the soldiers and swung his sword.
The instant the blade leaped from its sheath.
Slash.
A straight line of sword light flashed, and the knight's head tumbled to the ground.
Spurt!
Blood sprayed like a fountain, then dried up in an instant, the flesh withering like a mummy's.
“U-Uwaaaah!”
Once more, the imperial troops retreated.
Fifty soldiers and eight knights had come, but they were no match for four pilgrims and one beast.
Click.
The pure white pilgrim—Kallias—sheathed his sword and whistled.
His horse trotted over as if waiting and took him aboard.
“Is a pilgrim allowed to ride a horse?”
The lizardman thumping the ground with his tail.
Pillomatur, chieftain of the dragonkin.
He had left his tribe to travel with Kallias's group.
He hadn't been particularly attached to his clan in the first place and preferred wandering.
No one knew how much Kallias had influenced that decision.
“There's no rule saying you have to walk the entire pilgrimage on foot. In the end, the pilgrimage is about finding yourself.”
“Lak Tus never said anything like that. Aldu, isn't your god kinda weird?”
As chieftain, he had carried himself with some dignity, but now unburdened, he shed all that.
Tail-cutter Philo.
True to his flippant nickname, his usual speech was lighthearted to a fault.
“Philo, don't blaspheme other gods. The sons of the tundra will smash your skull with their hammers.”
Aldu spoke sternly yet kindly, as if scolding an insolent youth—or treating Philo like a son.
“Lord Arbetto never said anything specific about pilgrimages.”
The elf Serena showed little change in expression, as always.
But when she glanced at Kallias, her face grew more animated.
“The god of the sword is Valterus, right?”
“That's right.”
“Your Sword God must be lenient.”
Kallias smirked at Philo's casual remark and replied.
“If riding a horse warranted that much nagging, he'd be pretty petty.”
“Eek!”
Ignoring Philo's huff, Kallias eyed a village coming into view.
“Raikiman. That right?”
“The location matches. This paulownia tree mark confirms it's Raikiman.”
“It's a rural spot, yeah?”
“It was rural thirty years ago... It's prospered quite a bit!”
Raikiman.
Originally just a small village where travelers stopped briefly.
Its main income came from those travelers' modest purses, but time had changed that.
*'A decent-sized village.'*
A middling impression, and the village itself wasn't particularly remarkable.
It had suitably large buildings, mainly agricultural, but what stood out was one building in the center with a slightly different style.
Kallias walked for a while before realizing it was Rose's Smile.
*'A brothel for livelihood, huh.'*
Nothing surprising there.
It fit the era.
Everyone had their own way of surviving.
“Then go ahead and unwind. We'll secure separate lodging.”
“I have something to deliver, so get me a room too.”
“Kallis? No need to play coy. A real man embracing a woman—what's there to be ashamed of?”
Serena grabbed Philo's neck as he patted Kallias's shoulder.
“Gurk!”
“Don't be rude, Philo.”
“O-Okay! I got it!”
“We'll be waiting.”
“Alright.”
Grace was a peculiar phenomenon.
It didn't even show up as a quest.
That stemmed from the nature of grace itself.
Grace consisted of a dead soul's resentment.
To resolve the knotted grudge, one had to fulfill the corresponding wish.
It could be light or immensely heavy.
The one who received the grace fulfilled it in their stead, dispelling the resentment and receiving fitting compensation.
*'That's grace.'*
But indirectly experiencing abstract recollections to unravel the target's grudge was no easy task.
Thus, even after gaining several graces, Kallias had failed many times.
Some were impossible to resolve; others too cryptic to decipher.
This grace was similar.
*'Just deliver it, or something more?'*
From past experience,
It seemed to demand a bit more.
He saw one woman and a place, but Kallias doubted that was all.
The emotions emanating from it
weren't that simple.
“A customer?”
“Pilgrims gotta empty their sacks too, eh? Kahaha!”
Brothel guards.
Ignoring the lame joke, he asked.
“Where's Veronica?”
“Veronica? Well, well, brother. Heard the rumors and came for the top whore, huh? Too bad—she's off today.”
“Day off, you say.”
Kallias sighed.
Trouble from the start.
“Why you looking for Veronica?”
“Hey, brat. Butt out.”
A girl emerged from among the guards, arms crossed boldly as she asked.
“Forget Veronica—how about me? I'm gonna be the top rose someday.”
The girl's cheeky words furrowed Kallias's brow.
“I have something for Veronica.”
“Pfft, nice try. Plenty of guys have pulled that to bed her. Even whores can't be treated like trash. Besides, Veronica's Raikiman’s finest flower. She says no.”
“Yeah, brother. Lots of other flowers—go pick one...”
The moment he shoved Kallias's shoulder.
Kallias twisted his wrist and flipped him in one motion.
Splat!
“Huh?”
Even with his wrist snapped from the fall, the guard stared blankly, then scowled.
“You little shit, thinking I'll play nice...!”
Up close, he drew his sword from his belt, aiming for Kallias's shoulder.
They clutched spears in hand and swords at the waist.
Effortlessly, Kallias caught the descending sword between his fingers.
“Wh-What?!”
As the guard panicked at the sight of the blade gripped by fingers alone, Kallias snapped it in two.
Thud.
He looked down at the guard who collapsed in shock.
“Where's Veronica.”
“F-Follow me! I'll show you!”
Amid the dumbfounded guards,
the girl shouted.
“Lead the way.”
“Okay!”
* * *
Knock knock.
“Veronica! It's Chris! Got a customer! Open up!!”
The girl's name was Chris.
Veronica's rundown house just outside the brothel didn't stir despite repeated knocks.
“Veronica! Philip's here!”
At the girl's nonsense,
footsteps finally sounded from inside.
Creak.
A woman with waterfall-like light brown hair.
A cigarette dangled from her hand; spotting the girl and Kallias, she nodded as if to say enter and lit it.
“...I'm off today. Chris. Why'd you bring him?”
“Felt like a real customer for Veronica. Trust me! Not some sleazy john.”
The girl called Chris soon slipped outside.
A sharp kid.
Kallias pulled a shortsword from his bosom and handed it over.
A somewhat short bastard sword.
An utterly ordinary blade, nothing noteworthy.
“Philip.”
The sword's name was Philip.
The name of the dead soul bearing the grace.
“That bastard again, huh? How much?”
“...What do you mean?”
“Didn't that fucker take a loan in my name again? Goddamn prick. Let's hear it. How much?”
Her face twisted in annoyance, making one question if she really was a whore.
*'A whore paying off debts for someone.'*
Intriguing.
“How much, I said?”
“This is Philip.”
“?”
Veronica and Chris both looked at the sword.
They tilted their heads in confusion, then their expressions shifted.
Kallias repeated.
“Philip.”
“He's dead?”
“Dead.”
“...”
Veronica fell silent for a long while.
Then she brushed back her hair.
“Anything else?”
“Nothing.”
“I see. Alright, got it. Now go.”
They weren't lovers, it seemed.
No change in her expression.
*'Why did Philip think of her at death? A sucker?'*
He thought delivering it would complete the grace, but no.
Some investigation was needed.
“What, out already? No fun?”
The brat's lewd gesture made Kallias frown.
“No.”
“Then why're you here?”
“Do you know Philip?”
Chris had mentioned Philip to wake Veronica.
“Philip? That idiot Philip?”
“An idiot?”
“Total idiot. The fool blabbing about making Raikiman’s flower his bride.”
“Lovers?”
“Lovers? Who dates a flower? Maybe he caught feelings passing by.”
Something was eluding him.
*'Came all this way.'*
Kallias glanced at the bastard sword in his hand. Grace rewards were unpredictable.
Still, this level of resentment warranted some expectation. Tossing it now and seeking another grace would be awkward.
He'd have to scour Raikiman for clues on Philip.
“But I did hear something.”
“What?”
“Folks said Philip tried to buy Veronica. But a broke farmer buying the top flower? No way.”
Farmer.
Why would a farmer join the imperial army?
Chris answered his doubt.
“Then... he suddenly became an imperial soldier. How? Some connection? Nah, probably not.”
Chris's puzzled words darkened Kallias's eyes.
It started to stink.
* * *
“Philip's dead.”
Veronica, wrapped in a thin cardigan, said to the man seated in the office.
His name was Lupard.
Manager of Rose's Smile.
One-eyed glasses perched as he tallied ledgers, he replied without looking up.
“It ended that way. Shame. Guess you won't find happiness either.”
“If you hadn't filled his head with bullshit, he wouldn't have died like that.”
Only then did Lupard close the ledger and meet her gaze.
“I just made an offer. The empire needed soldiers, so I introduced him to a perfect job. No grudges against me.”
“Bullshit. You just didn't want some random farmer stealing Rose's Smile's signboard girl.”
“Me? Go out of my way for a farmer?”
“Right after Philip left, someone tore up all his fields. Everyone knows it was you.”
“Got proof?”
“I saw you.”
Lupard let out a hollow laugh.
Leaning back, he said.
“What do you want? Philip's dead anyway. Yeah, rumors flew about treasure on his land. His fields always bountiful—even in bad harvests elsewhere. So I dug around.”
“And? What'd you find?”
“A small box.”
“What was it?”
“A ring.”
“A ring?”
Slide.
Thud.
“Probably meant to propose. Thought of tossing it, but if he came back alive, it'd make a nice congrats. Now he's dead—can't give it. Take it.”
Veronica's eyes shook as she stroked the ring box tenderly.
“Philip was an idiot.”
“Yeah. Marrying a whore? Dumb idea from the start.”
“But he wasn't trash. Not like you, you fucker.”
Swish!
She drew a sword from under her cardigan and lunged at Lupard.
Just as it plunged toward his head.
Clang!
Lupard barely blocked.
“Crazy bitch!”
Thud!
“Urk!”
Thud!!
“Guh!”
“Why the fuck you coming at me?”
Lupard headbutted her forehead and kicked her away hard, then ran a hand through his hair like he'd aged ten years.
Veronica, sword lost and sprawled, screamed in rage.
“You weren't there, Philip wouldn't have died!!”
“Stupid fuck enlists to shack up with a whore and blames me? That's illiterate bitches for you.”
“Shut up, you fuck!”
Thud!! Crack!
But violence answered.
Trampled under Lupard's boot, Veronica groaned in pain.
“Know your place, bitch.”
Flick.
“Aaagh!”
Yanking her hair, Lupard whispered in her ear.
“You just serve customers and hand over your cut. Got it? Hoping that idiot Philip saves you from this cesspool? You're the idiot, Veronica. Viscount's visiting personally after hearing of your fame—treat him royally like always.”
Thud!
“I'll let this slide. Hey! Get this bitch out.”
Straightening his tie, Lupard called the guards.
“...?”
But after a long wait, no guards appeared.