Old Soldiers Never Die

"So there are places like this in Gyeonggi too. It's a good spot."

"I was surprised myself. Once you get used to it, though, it has a charm the city just doesn't."

Jeolji-ah looked around, quietly impressed. Across a sprawling field, herbs of every distinctive color stood in neat rows, drinking in the sunlight, and among them a young man worked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the soil, the sweat on his brow somehow more beautiful still.

"You don't see young people like that much these days."

Watching a youth throw himself into his work with that kind of honesty left a warm feeling in Jeolji-ah's chest. He supposed he really was getting old.

"This way, please."

"Oh? There's a cafe all the way out here."

Even to Jeolji-ah, who had lived no small number of years, the place was full of surprises. A half-ruined city giving way to smooth paved roads and farmland — and then, as the finishing touch, a cafe with a yellow dandelion painted prettily across its face.

The door chime jingled.

"Welcome!"

Oh Yeongjun greeted the two of them from behind the counter, bright and easy.

"I'm here, hyung. This gentleman looked after me since I was little. He's like a grandfather to me."

Jeolji-ah offered Oh Yeongjun a handshake, wearing the kind of kindly smile any grandfather might.

"I only hope this boy hasn't been too much trouble."

"Hangil does such a good job you don't need to worry about that at all. I'd like to offer you a drink, though — what can I get you?"

Jeolji-ah glanced up at the menu board along the back wall, and one curious item caught his eye.

"Nutrient Fruit Juice? What's that?"

Strawberry, orange, kiwi — fruit juices you could find at any cafe. But why attach the word nutrient to the front?

"It's juice with honey and Mandrake folded in. Not too sweet, and far better for you than most supplements."

"That sounds just right for an old man. I'll have the Nutrient Orange Juice, then."

"An excellent choice."

Mandrake, huh... So that's their way of saying it works wonders.

Jeolji-ah took it to mean the ingredients were wholesome enough to raise someone from a vegetative state.

"So. When is Ellie getting here?"

"Grandpa!"

The word had barely left his mouth when the bell over the door rang again. A little blonde girl came flying in from a long way off, her face lit up with a brilliant smile. A silver-haired man followed her through the door.

"My goodness! I barely recognize you — you've grown so much! And those clothes look wonderful on you."

Jeolji-ah welcomed Ellie with a thoroughly contented smile. The first time he had met her she had been a scruffy little thing; now she was a lovely girl that anyone passing on the street would turn to look at twice.

"I missed you so much."

"So did I, sweetheart. But Ellie — would you show Grandpa just one thing?"

"Huh? What is it?"

"Don't be alarmed. I'm going to make a tiny cut, and I want you to heal it."

It was a clean, precise method of verifying a Saintess. No matter how fond he was of Ellie, confirmation was confirmation.

"Okay."

"Then let's begin."

"Yeah. Let's get this on camera too."

The moment Ellie agreed, Hangil started recording. Jeolji-ah set the edge of his hand and drew it swiftly across his left arm. The blade split only the skin, with perfect precision, and beads of blood welled up along the cut.

Ellie pressed her hand to the wound at once and gently closed her eyes. Blue light bloomed across her fingers. Shallow as the cut was, it vanished in an instant, leaving not even a scar.

"Ohh..."

Jeolji-ah let out a breath of wonder at the sheer, bracing freshness of it. It was identical to the sensation of being healed when he had once served at the Saint's side. There was no mistake.

Jeolji-ah dropped to one knee at once and bowed his head to Ellie in formal greeting.

"Grandpa! Please don't do that!"

Ellie panicked and tried to lift him, but he did not budge.

"All this time I had eyes and still failed to recognize the Saintess. What discourtesy could be greater? Worse, I even allowed you to be taken prisoner."

"But..."

"Isn't making the Saintess comfortable supposed to be your job?"

The silver-haired man standing behind Ellie said it so mildly that Jeolji-ah's mind went blank, as if a fist had just connected with his skull.

Ah... this old fool has been dense yet again.

What mattered more than formality was how she felt.

"I understand."

"That's right. Like he said, I'd rather you treat me comfortably. That's actually better for me."

"Would that gentleman be Lord Karen? Thank you for broadening this old man's perspective."

Well now.

A man who looked well past sixty offering him thanks with such genuine courtesy put a gleam of interest in Karen's eye. Rank, martial power, age — you would expect a streak of stubborn pride, and there was no trace of it.

"This is the Heresy Inquisitor I mentioned over the phone."

"Ohh... I am truly sorry to ask, but might I trouble Lord Karen for one confirmation as well?"

"Go ahead."

Karen had only ever heard of a Heresy Inquisitor; he had never seen one. He had never dreamed he would become one himself, so he was curious about the method of verification too.

"There should be a mark on your palm that signifies the Heresy Inquisitor. Would you take my hand with that one?"

"Sure."

Karen took the hand Jeolji-ah held out without the slightest hesitation. It was nothing more than a handshake — and yet a thin line of cold sweat ran down Jeolji-ah's face.

The sensation welling up from their clasped hands dropped Jeolji-ah to his knees, and he cried out to the divine.

"What's with you?"

"Almost no one knows this, but when you touch the Heresy Inquisitor's mark, those acknowledged by Lady Solari feel a pleasant freshness. In the opposite case, a brand is seared in, and it is agony."

"That so? Convenient."

"I could die now without a single regret."

The records said the Heresy Inquisitor's mark was extremely particular about whom it recognized. The thought that his lifelong faith had not been in vain moved Jeolji-ah to his core.

"Don't go dying on me. I'll say this up front — I'm just the Saintess's guardian and helper. This is a temp job. Once this is over, I'm putting it down."

Karen said it while ruffling Ellie's hair.

"Of course, Inquisitor."

The Heresy Inquisitor, like the Saintess, was an independent one-person office chosen directly by the Goddess. Anyone from the Pope on down could be stripped of rank, and judgment could be passed in the truest sense of the word. Who was he to defy that? There was surely a purpose to it all.

"That kind of formality wears me out, so let's skip it from now on. But even if we show up now, do you really think the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Church is going to listen?"

He looks so young, and he's already tired of the formalities?

Jeolji-ah found it odd, but this was not the moment for his own questions. He chose his next words with care.

"...Would it be all right if I spoke frankly?"

"Go ahead. We're a little old to be getting sentimental, aren't we?"

For the blasphemies he was about to speak, Jeolji-ah silently asked the Goddess for forgiveness.

"They won't listen. Even if we show them the recording, they'll just call it fabricated, and that'll be the end of it."

"A complete mess, just like I thought last time."

"I'm sorry. It's all our failing."

"That's part of it, but... the whole thing's too rigid to begin with."

In some ways, the hierarchy was even more ironclad than the military. That was part of why the words of the young Holy Warriors had struck Jeolji-ah as so fresh — and so shocking.

"About Ellie, though. Isn't her holy power a bit weak for a Saintess?"

Jeolji-ah had thought the same thing. The Saint he had seen in his prime had healed dozens on the spot in a single breath.

"Could it be because she's still so young?"

"Holy power isn't a muscle. That's not how it works. The Saint is still alive, so the power's being split between them."

"The Saint? That's cause for celebration."

Jeolji-ah's face lit up at once. The Saint, the Saintess, and a Heresy Inquisitor besides... Had Lady Solari arranged all of this?

"Don't get too happy about it. He might've been better off dead. For us, and for him."

"Is... that so."

Sadness crept into Jeolji-ah's voice. How much pride he had felt in the days he had guarded the Saint. He was one of the few who had witnessed that power with his own eyes.

"I've got a mission for you."

"I will carry it out with my life."

"The... kids?"

Jeolji-ah, who had been listening with a devout heart, stared in shock at Karen's turn of phrase — the kind of talk you'd hear in a back alley.

"I've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠got the justification and the authority straight from the Goddess herself. But we should save the ones worth saving. You want me to kill them all?"

Above all, the biggest reason was simple: when the ones who would come for them later arrived, the more talented people they had, the better.

In that instant Karen's eyes flashed, and a chill crawled over Jeolji-ah's skin. Of course. The Goddess would never have given the office of Heresy Inquisitor to an ordinary man.

"And can you really say you're without fault? The Holy Relics have lost their power, and the Church is going down the wrong path. You were in a position where you couldn't possibly have not known."

Karen's words flew like a dagger and buried themselves in Jeolji-ah's chest. The question he had wrestled with endlessly, heard now from someone else's mouth, was more painful — and yet more clearly resolved.

"I have committed a great sin."

A weight lifted from his heart. He had been unconsciously avoiding this, afraid that admitting it would erase the person he had spent a lifetime becoming. The fog that had covered his eyes receded, and a clean, bracing feeling took its place.

"I don't mind dying. But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if you give me a chance to persuade the others, I will fulfill this last duty."

Seeing the old Holy Warrior's sincerity, Karen felt a welcome satisfaction. The willingness to die was real. But this man wasn't trying to flee. He felt the full weight of his responsibility, and he intended to set it right.

"I'll give you a chance to cut out the rot. If you don't like the way I put it, think of it as a chance from the Goddess. This is your last real shot."

"I will see it done!"

"Good. And if anyone won't listen, bring them here without making a scene. I'll explain things in a way they'll understand."

What exactly would he "explain"? Jeolji-ah had a feeling it would not be a peaceful method. He resolved to use that particular means only as an absolute last resort, and spoke with a voice full of determination.

"I will do everything in my power."

"It's on you now. Do it well. I'll be busy educating Ellie in the meantime."

"Then I'll begin at once."

Jeolji-ah left, and from the sofa in the back, Samsaek's head popped up. Had he been eavesdropping this whole time?

"I like that guy."

"You just met him."

"He looks like a character from the manga I've been reading lately. The kind with a solid cult following. Very charming."

"Yeah? In what way?"

Didn't young, handsome, pretty people usually get the popularity?

"It's that seasoned competence that comes with old-man appeal. He can handle anything. Plus he's got white hair and a great body. Perfect."

"...The world really has changed. Come on, let's go watch a drama. What's on this time?"

Karen scooped Samsaek up and left the cafe, heading home.

"It's an old slice-of-life drama. Reply... something. There's Reply 1994, 1997, and 1998."

"Ellie would like that. But is a drama really good for her education?"

"I talked to her about it last time. Apparently the Goddess showed Ellie actual history through visions. And some of that history could give war movies and morning soap operas a run for their money."

"What on earth has that Goddess been doing?"

It was a miracle Ellie had grown up so well-adjusted. Karen let out a long sigh, gathered Samsaek into his arms, and headed for home.

I need to get Ellie a proper education before she talks to the Goddess again.

Spend enough time with bad friends and you start to pick up their habits. The Inquisitor's mark on Karen's palm flickered as if in protest — and Karen, if anything, shot a sideways glare at the sky.

"It's been a while since I set foot in this house."

Jeolji-ah stepped out of the garage and glanced back at the place. He had been eating and sleeping at the temple dormitory with his juniors so often that he almost never came here.

Today his clothes were different from usual. Gone was the neat attire; in its place, a black motorcycle suit with a red stripe running across the chest, and a helmet tucked against his side.

"It's been a while for you too, hasn't it?"

Vroooom.

A hobby from his youth, before he became a Holy Warrior. He rolled the motorcycle out of the garage and kicked it to life. A deep, full-throated engine note filled the air, and the dust that had gathered over the years scattered into the light.

A 1986 Harley-Davidson Heritage Softail, an early model. Engine displacement: 1,340cc — a liter-class machine. It couldn't match the efficiency or performance of the newer bikes, of course, but he had maintained it in the gaps between duties, and it still ran just fine.

"Let's ride. It's been too long."

Public transportation would be far too slow. From here on, time was life. And lately, rumors had been drifting in that the Archbishop and the Pope were moving on something. He needed to move faster than they did.

Snakes, every last one of them.

They hadn't started out that way. Jeolji-ah, who had watched them from the beginning and walked the Church's history beside them, knew that better than anyone.

He twisted the throttle. The exhaust note and the vibration that had once set his young heart racing came flooding back — like the growl of some great beast. With the helmet covering his lined face, his solid frame alone would have passed for a strapping young man's.

"Heh heh... getting carried away in my old age."

Something he thought he had forgotten past the age of seventy was boiling up in his chest. No — it wasn't simply the sound of the engine.

"How long has it been since I felt like I was starting over? This will be our last road together, you and I. How silly, getting butterflies like this."

From the moment he had seen the Saintess — so precious he could have held her in his eye and felt no pain — and the young Heresy Inquisitor who looked upon the world with such fearless composure, the old Holy Warrior's heart had been pounding.

And he offered a deep thanks to Lady Solari, who had given him this final chance. Jeolji-ah knew full well what a blessing it was to be granted an opportunity to set his own wrongs right.

It had lost the values it was founded on. A church that had begun as a shield for the lowly had become a luxury for those on high.

The engine roared.

Together with his old friend, the old Holy Warrior set out on the road of atonement.

"I'll start with the Gyeonggi District Overseer. About time I paid the juniors a visit."