Bronze Plate Mercenary (2)
Saint Dominic Monastery looked exactly as it always had.
All that drifted through the air was dust and filthy sand. There was no telling where the monastery grounds began or ended, and the place where the garden should have been was choked with nothing but grimy sediment.
The sister leaned on her broom and sighed.
The reason was obvious. They must have finished cleaning not long ago, and yet for some reason the scenery had not changed at all. Seeing it again after so long, Lawrence could tell that this was not a matter of manpower.
"May the Goddess’s blessing be with you. It’s been a while, Sister Irene."
"May the Goddess’s blessing be with you. Welcome, Brother Lawrence."
He had been away from the monastery for quite some time, and fortunately, it seemed the girl had not forgotten his name yet.
"And who might these people be?"
"It’s not much, but this is a gift for the monastery."
Lawrence clapped his hands together, and the laborers who had come with him from the village set down their burdens one by one.
"Oh my. Water?"
Irene’s face brightened when she saw the casks.
"Water gets expensive during the dry season. I thought you might have your hands full, so I bought some."
It had been the right choice after all. The fee Lawrence had received for this request was large enough that he could afford to be generous for a change.
After eating his fill and indulging in snacks back in the village for the first time in a while, he had run into a merchant caravan that was selling water on his way back in high spirits. Since water sources were limited during the dry season, the caravan seemed to make regular rounds selling clean water.
The caravan was fairly large. No fewer than four wagons had entered the village. From what he had heard, they had come from Raynald Territory—not a neighboring district, but a place that lay nearly two months away by wagon through the swamp.
Maybe it would have been different when he first arrived in the swamp, but after working on the Ulbaniero request with the mercenaries, Lawrence had learned just how precious water was.
As it happened, he was already staying at the monastery as a guest. Naturally, he was paying neither for lodging nor for food and water.
Love and mercy were the Holy Cross Order’s core principles. No—more importantly, a person ought to have a sense of decency, shouldn’t they?
He had worked as a hired hand at Saint Charmant Monastery, so he knew well that the monastery’s finances were not exactly healthy. And the people living in Ulbazar Swamp followed a local faith that worshipped the spirits.
The more believers there were, the fuller the coffers tended to be. Whether he knew it or not, donations and support were probably scarce here as well.
That was why Lawrence had bought water in bulk.
Of course, he could only do so because he had enough to spare. The compensation from this request had been higher than expected, so he could easily cover an expense like this. Considering that he would likely keep staying at the monastery, it was actually a bargain.
"Thank you for bringing it all the way here."
He offered his thanks to the laborers who had hauled the water to the monastery.
There was not even that much of it, but water was heavy and bulky, far too much for one person to carry alone without hired help.
"Not at all. It’s all for the Goddess, after all. I’m glad we could help."
"May the Goddess’s blessing be with you. You must have had a rough time in Ulbazar Swamp."
The laborers from the caravan smiled even as they wiped the sweat from their brows. Looking at them now, it seemed they weren’t swamp natives after all, but believers of the Holy Cross Order.
"Hard times are hard times for everyone. May the Goddess watch over the rest of your journey as well."
"You’ve done us a great service. May the Goddess’s grace be with you."
"I had no idea you’d go so far as to ask for divine protection. Thank you. I’m starting to understand a little better why the Black Rose Caravan helps people in need. Now that I’m here, I almost feel like I should make a donation."
"Offerings are collected in the chapel. If you like, I can guide you there right now."
The laborers hurriedly averted their eyes.
"Ahem! We’re rather pressed for time…"
"We need to get back as quickly as possible too…. We’ll make a donation another time."
"That’s a shame. I do hope you’ll come by again sometime."
Irene did not seem the least bit disappointed, as if she had expected that answer.
After seeing the laborers off, Lawrence gave an awkward smile.
It was easy enough to say the words, but acting on them was always the hard part.
After sorting through his things, Lawrence went to find Ignatius. The chief priest was presiding over Mass in the chapel as usual.
"May the Goddess’s blessing be with you. I’m glad to see you back safe and sound, Brother Lawrence."
"May the Goddess’s blessing be with you. I hope you’ve been well too, Chief Priest."
It was not merely a polite greeting. Ignatius looked faintly haggard after not seeing him for so long.
"I’m fine. It’s only the sort of fatigue that comes before a major event. Thanks to Brother Lawrence bringing us such precious water, most of our problems have been solved. I’m grateful."
"I’m glad to hear it. The monastery can’t run into trouble if the priest himself stays healthy."
It was a small monastery to begin with, and simply bringing clean water seemed to have been a major help.
"It seems your request ended well."
"Yes. I went deep into the swamp with Ulbaniero. It was my first long-term request, and thanks to the Goddess’s protection, I was able to return safely."
It had been a request that gave him many things in return—not just in compensation, but in human connections. More than anything, learning about the swamp had been the greatest gain.
"I’m relieved. I’m sure that’s also thanks to the sincere way you’ve always served the Goddess, Brother Lawrence."
Then Ignatius changed the subject.
"Now that you’ve come straight to see me after finishing your request, I assume there’s something you’d like help with."
"You’re right. There’s something I wanted to ask about."
He did not bother with small talk. Lawrence knew from experience that Ignatius was a busy man.
"I’m actually looking for the Lost Sanctuary."
"The Lost Sanctuary, you say?"
"Yes. From what I’ve heard about the pilgrim path, I wondered if there might be a sanctuary in the swamp—one that’s too hard for the faithful to reach. A lost sanctuary, I mean."
He asked cautiously. To be honest, even buying water from the caravan earlier had not been entirely unrelated to this calculation.
"I’m afraid I may not be able to give you the information you want."
"Even a tiny clue would be fine. I can search the rest on my own."
"I’m not saying I don’t know. In fact, I know the Lost Sanctuary you’re looking for all too well, and that’s the problem."
Ignatius gave a wry smile.
"You may already know this, but Ulbazar Swamp’s climate is broadly divided into a dry season and a wet season."
"I’ve heard as much. Right now, with the land so parched, it must be the dry season, and the wet season is when it rains without pause."
"If you know that much, this will be easier. As you said, Ulbazar Swamp is currently in the dry season. During that time, the entire swamp suffers a brutal drought. The ground splits open, the marsh dries to a crust, and even plants and animals struggle to survive. Generally, November through April is considered the dry season, and during that time there is no way into the Lost Sanctuary."
"May I ask what you mean by that?"
Ignatius continued.
"To be precise, it would be suicide. The Lost Sanctuary lies deep inside a Bugbear nest. There are roughly several hundred Bugbears living there—how, then, could anyone possibly break through their nest and reach the sanctuary?"
Lawrence was left speechless at the sheer scale of the number. Several hundred. He immediately thought of the Lost Sanctuary in the Spider Forest.
Come to think of it, that place had also been a Forest Spider habitat. There had even been a creature inside the sanctuary that seemed to be their queen, making her lair there.
If the Lost Sanctuary in Ulbazar Swamp was in a similar state, then Ignatius’s explanation made perfect sense.
"So that means there’s a way during the wet season."
"Exactly. June through October is the wet season, and it’s easiest to think of the swamp as turning into a marsh. Once the rains begin, life sprouts again in the parched earth, and water rises across the swamp. The Bugbear nest is no exception."
By the time he finished explaining, Lawrence understood what he meant.
During the wet season, the Bugbear nest containing the Lost Sanctuary would be submerged. In other words, the creatures would be forced to abandon their den and move elsewhere.
Even if there was no way during the dry season, in the wet season a route to the Lost Sanctuary could be secured.
That said, if the nest filled with water, a human would not be able to pass through it either. But something in his mind suddenly surfaced.
The river that the water drains into.
The path of water that Izolde had mentioned—something that only appeared in the wet season.
"So you do know about it. Once the nest is full of water, the Bugbears have no choice but to move. If you want to reach the Lost Sanctuary, you’ll have to seize that opportunity and use the river that the water drains into."
Lawrence rested his hand against his chin.
To summarize, the Lost Sanctuary could not be reached in the dry season, which meant that for now he would have to stay at the monastery and wait for the rains until June, when the wet season began. At the very least, he would need to remain here for several more months.
"The problem is finding a guide who knows the route to the deepest parts of the swamp. It’s far too dangerous, so I doubt anyone will step forward for compensation alone."
"I understand that the pilgrimage path is meant to be climbed by a pilgrim alone. Is it really acceptable to receive help from someone else?"
"Consider this an exception. This isn’t just any pilgrimage path—it leads to the Lost Sanctuary, and it lies deep in the swamp. Without a guide, I can say with certainty that reaching even the vicinity would be impossible."
Ignatius looked grim, as though the matter itself weighed heavily on him.
"I see. Then I suppose I’ll need to find a guide first."
"I’ll try to find volunteers among the faithful as well."
"But listening to you explain it in such detail, it sounds like someone has already gone to the Lost Sanctuary this way."
The guide issue aside, there was something oddly familiar about the advice itself.
"Yes. There were a few."
"Did one of them happen to be the pilgrim Lenard?"
For the first time in a long while, Lawrence said the name aloud.
"I wondered after reading your letter, but I see you were indeed acquainted with Brother Lenard."
"Yes. I owed him a little."
It was nothing worth hiding. The boy told Ignatius what had happened at Saint Charmant Monastery.
"I’m relieved. So Brother Lenard is safe…. Among the pilgrims I’ve seen, I’ve never met anyone who climbed the pilgrimage path as fearsomely as he did."
"Fearsomely? It’s true that Lenard’s mouth is rough, but he has not the slightest lie in his heart when it comes to the Goddess."
"I’m not doubting Brother Lenard’s faith. It’s just that the way he climbed the pilgrimage path was... how should I put it? A little—no, very hard to respect."
Had something happened that had gotten under his skin? If Lawrence’s memory was correct, the journey he had climbed with Lenard had been difficult, but not inconvenient or reckless.
And that was not all. Lenard had even taught Lawrence, step by step, what he needed to do after stepping into the world. Leaving aside whether he was kind or not, the man had certainly been thorough.
"So you don’t know. I mean Brother Lenard’s method of climbing the pilgrimage path."
"It seems a little different from the method I know."
"Then I suppose that means he’s calmed down now. Come to think of it, it’s already been three years since Brother Lenard passed through here. The Goddess must have surely watched over him."
Three years meant before Lenard had arrived at Saint Charmant Monastery.
"The Brother Lenard I observed at my side seemed as though he were yearning for martyrdom. He acted so recklessly that I could hardly bear to watch. If Brother Lenard had carried a white holy cross, I would have tried to stop him from taking the pilgrimage path more than once."
With his hands clasped together, Ignatius turned to the Goddess.
"So Lenard must have had a black holy cross."
"You didn’t know? The only reason Brother Lenard’s methods can work is because of his black holy cross. In a remote monastery, there’s little choice but to overlook such stubbornness to some degree."
"Was he really that bad? The stubbornness Lenard showed, I mean."
"There’s nothing strange about a pilgrim entering the road of martyrdom. But a pilgrim who takes up the road of pilgrimage while hoping for martyrdom does not exist, I assure you. If that had truly been his intent from the start, it wouldn’t even count as martyrdom."
In other words, Lenard had set out on the pilgrimage path in search of a place to die.
"That Lenard...? I can’t believe it."
He really could not believe it.
"Seeing your reaction puts me at ease. Fortunately, it seems Brother Lenard found what he was looking for along the pilgrimage path."
Was that really possible? If Ignatius was right, the Lenard Lawrence knew and the Lenard who had visited Ulbazar Swamp might as well have been different people.
Three years had passed since he left Saint Dominic Monastery. What had happened in those three years to make him change so much?
"If you’d like to learn more personally, try visiting St. Sophia Temple in Raynald Territory. Priest Benedict is there, and I was told that pilgrim Lenard came from that place."
"St. Sophia Temple in Raynald Territory. Thank you for telling me. If the opportunity comes up, I’ll be sure to visit."
He should remember that. He did not know when, but considering the road ahead, paying a visit there did not seem like a bad idea. If it was a temple, chances were high they would have plenty of information about the Lost Sanctuary.
"There’s still some time left before the wet season. If possible, I’d like to stay here at the monastery until then."
"It is the monastery’s role to provide a place for pilgrims to rest. Stay as long as you like. The swamp changes greatly between the dry season and the wet season, so I hope you’ll take your time adjusting."
The dry season swamp and the wet season swamp were different places entirely. He had heard that over and over during the request. Lawrence did not know exactly how Ulbazar Swamp would change, but he hoped it would not become too different. He had only just gotten used to the swamp, and if its environment suddenly changed, he would no doubt need time to adapt all over again.
Perhaps because he had finally finished the long request and returned, Lawrence was able to dream of the Spirit World that night for the first time in a while.
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