Frang Village
An endless blue horizon stretched before them.
No matter where Lawrence looked, the water met the sky and never seemed to end.
This was the sea.
It was on a scale that made even the river they’d seen at low tide seem trivial by comparison.
Luca’s reaction to seeing the sea for the first time was no different.
She could barely keep her mouth closed, staring in disbelief.
“Mister Lawrence. The sea really is huge.”
“Yes. It’s bigger than I imagined, too.”
Luca moved carefully.
Right beside her, Kyle sat with his arms folded, asleep.
As always, he’d been swallowed by drowsiness and had his eyes closed.
Music seemed to be drifting over from the sea.
Waves rolling in with steady rhythm.
Birds Lawrence had never seen before, and creatures he couldn’t name.
Even Lawrence, who had taken in many landscapes already, couldn’t help but marvel.
At the far edge of the Lian Kingdom.
Frang was a village built along the coastal cliffs.
Sheer rock faces and hills that rose and fell like steps.
The breathtaking handiwork of nature was, quite simply, astounding.
A beautiful view.
But whether it was a pleasant place to live, he couldn’t say.
The hills were too rugged to be called roads.
In places where people could scarcely pass, not even a proper road had been laid.
No—perhaps it was more accurate to say no one had even dared try.
Still, once they came out of the hills, a mule track welcomed the party.
Passing through vineyards carved out of the barren land, they descended until Frang Village finally came into view.
It was a fishing village crowded with houses that looked as though they had been drawn by hand.
A tall lighthouse stood to welcome the ships returning heavy with their catch.
Fishing boats could be seen through the gaps between the alleys, and the smell of lunch being prepared tickled his nose.
The entrance to the village wasn’t very large.
There were only four gatekeepers at the checkpoint to inspect arrivals.
That did not, however, mean that few people entered the village.
The road connecting to the gate was simply too narrow, limiting how many could pass through at once.
The lead carriage was checked first, then the next, and the next in turn.
There were quite a few of them, so the gatekeepers ended up attached to the whole party.
“Welcome to Frang Village.”
“You may enter as soon as each inspection is complete.”
“The carriage depot is on the right after you enter the village. Please drive carefully and do your best to avoid any accidents.”
Fortunately, nothing out of the ordinary happened.
The carriages entered Frang Village one after another.
Everyone except Raoul, whom they’d spoken with up front.
The other mercenaries came into the village with the last carriage.
“You there. Are you perhaps a cleric of the Order?”
A gatekeeper who recognized Lawrence’s clothing spoke to him.
“May the goddess’s blessing be with you. You’ve had a hard journey.”
“Oh—yes, indeed. May the goddess’s blessing be with you as well. So then… are you the newly arrived priest everyone’s been waiting for?”
“Pardon? No, I’m a pilgrim.”
It seemed there had been some confusion.
When Lawrence shook his head, the gatekeeper’s expression darkened.
“You’re not? Hmm… then perhaps you don’t know when the priest sent from above is arriving?”
“I’m not from the Holy See either, so I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. But if there’s a problem at the monastery, the higher authorities will act quickly enough. Please don’t worry too much.”
“You see, pilgrim, we thought the same at first. But the priest’s been away for quite a while now….”
That surprised him a little.
Even Lawrence knew the Church would never leave one of its monasteries unattended for long.
“So the chief priest is absent from St. Pierre Monastery right now?”
“Yes. There is a sister there, but… nothing at all is being held, not prayer services, not Mass. She only says that she’s offering the place as a room for prayer.”
So the monastery was open, at least.
But the absence of the chief priest was no good news.
Lawrence thought of Luca, who had gone inside with Elvira.
He hadn’t received a definite answer yet, but the plan to leave her at the monastery had already gone wrong from the very first step.
“I know I shouldn’t be saying this, but the sister currently at the monastery is not a normal person, and everyone’s been having a hard time because of her. I wish the Church would find out about it as soon as possible….”
“What do you mean by that?”
“She doesn’t seem like a sister at all. She’s not even reciting prayers. And she’s hardly conducting herself properly, either. If you go see her yourself, pilgrim, I think you’ll understand immediately what I mean.”
“…….”
It sounded like there was quite a problem there.
Even as he spoke, the gatekeeper kept sighing.
As if he found it too difficult to say outright, he kept his gaze averted.
“I understand. I’ll need to stop by the monastery anyway. If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you just for saying so, pilgrim.”
A smile finally returned, faint and strained, to the gatekeeper’s mouth.
* * *
After finishing the escort job, Lawrence parted ways with the mercenaries inside the village.
Having received a generously stuffed purse for their pay, they headed straight for the tavern.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“I’m sorry. I appreciate the invitation, but I have companions.”
“Hmm… is that so? Your comrades will be disappointed. I was thinking this might be a chance to keep working with a shadow mage. Well, it can’t be helped. We’re planning to stay in Frang for a while. If you take on any work hunting horn boars, don’t hesitate to call us.”
“Of course. And you too, Raoul. Thank you for your hard work.”
“Hohoho. Get some proper rest today. You’ve earned it.”
Raoul patted Lawrence on the shoulder and turned away.
Across the alley, Ulric could also be seen.
When Lawrence lowered his head, Ulric nodded back.
After parting from the mercenaries, Lawrence looked to Kyle.
“What do you plan to do, Kyle?”
“…….”
He’d been standing with his arms folded, and only after a beat did he speak.
“I’m looking for a rat.”
“The rat you said you were looking for is in Frang?”
“Don’t know. That’s why I’m looking.”
As if that was the end of it, Kyle turned away.
“I wish you luck.”
In the end, they were only people whose paths had briefly crossed.
After a light parting greeting, Lawrence headed in the opposite direction from Kyle.
He wasn’t going toward the inn where the gypsies had taken lodging.
He was going up, higher into Frang Village, toward St. Pierre Monastery.
Unlike what he’d seen from above, the streets here were lined with a fair number of shops.
There were fruit stalls dealing in grapes, and taverns selling wine.
All along the road, fish could be seen hanging to dry from lines like laundry.
The smell of fish scales and seawater tickled his nose.
The unfamiliar odor kept Lawrence’s brow from smoothing.
What on earth was this smell? It was foul in a way entirely different from Kaizle smoke.
Even the air striking his face felt different.
He’d heard seawater was salty.
The air, too, felt sticky, as though it had been shaped by the coast itself.
There didn’t seem to be much good in getting struck by sea wind all the time.
If he intended to take on work here, it might be better to keep his time spent outside to a minimum.
Most of the people moving along the main road were men.
Now and then, he saw an elderly woman.
Strangely enough, there were almost no children.
There were far more people who looked like mercenaries than village residents.
Because of that, the place was lively in a different way from Rombamel.
Bundles of supplies clutched in their arms.
Tusks and equipment that seemed to belong to horn boars.
Mercenaries unloading byproducts in front of shops were all smiles.
As expected, the monastery stood on high ground.
It was the same no matter which village he went to.
Saint Charmant Monastery in Hilton Village had been the same way.
Saint Dominic Monastery in Remington had been the same way, too.
He didn’t know what it was like to live at a monastery day to day.
But his honest feeling was that the first visit was always an ordeal.
Still, perhaps his stamina had improved considerably; by the time Lawrence reached the monastery entrance, his breathing hadn’t even been disturbed.
St. Pierre Monastery looked to be in the worst condition of any Church building he had seen so far.
Its state was worse even than Saint Dominic Monastery, which had always struggled with a shortage of hands.
Perhaps because of the sea wind, the outer walls of the building were peeling in an unsightly mess.
And with no hired workers to clean the place, the filth carried from outside had spread right into the interior.
Weeds had grown wild without restraint.
The garden was home to all manner of insects.
Dry, foul-smelling droppings were visible in several places.
A snow-white bird blown in from the sea let out a long, piercing cry, as if mocking the monastery.
It was the worst.
He had never seen a monastery that made his face twist so naturally with disgust.
It wasn’t just neglected; “abandoned” seemed the better word.
A thread of smoke rose before the doors of the chapel.
Someone sat in a rocking chair, swaying back and forth.
A sister, puffing on a tobacco stick and breathing out smoke in lazy bursts.
Her veil was nowhere to be seen, and all of her dull blond hair was exposed to the air.
Oddly enough, unlike a normal nun’s habit, the skirt she wore had a small slit at the side.
Using it, one leg had been hooked over the opposite thigh.
Her bare foot dangled beneath the chair, swinging to and fro.
At the shocking sight, Lawrence came to an abrupt stop.
No, tobacco was one thing.
Lenard, whom the boy knew well, smoked too.
But even Lenard observed a bare minimum of manners when he did it.
He didn’t smoke with a posture like this.
He didn’t smoke with a manner so unbefitting a cleric.
Then the sister smoking the tobacco met his eyes.
“…….”
“…….”
She exhaled a long stream of smoke.
“M-may the goddess’s blessing be with you?”
On reflex, he offered the Church’s greeting.
“Who are you?”
“Pardon?”
Had he heard wrong?
It sounded like something a gutter tough might say, not words a sister should ever speak.
“I asked who you are.”
“…….”
No, he had not heard wrong.
A bead of cold sweat ran down Lawrence’s temple.
“A servant of Goddess Belche. I’m Lawrence, a pilgrim.”
“A pilgrim?”
She drew a deep breath on the tobacco and blew it out through her nose.
“Did they send you from above?”
“No. I’m traveling in search of the holy places.”
“Then go back. There’s no pilgrim route here.”
With that, she flicked the finished tobacco to the floor.
Lawrence frowned without meaning to.
The cloister floor was full of the tobacco she had smoked and tossed away.
In fact, since no one seemed to clean it up, there were smoldering butts scattered all around, as though she had been smoking here for days.
She doesn’t look like a sister at all.
He understood at once why the gatekeeper had said that.
This was not the kind of sister Lawrence knew.
Sister Abeline of Saint Charmant Monastery was the sort of person worthy of respect by virtue of her conduct alone.
Sister Irene of Saint Dominic Monastery, despite being short-handed, had done everything she could to keep the monastery in order.
Both of them did their utmost for the sake of the goddess.
By contrast, the sister before him was only dressed like one.
In both speech and behavior, she was as far from a sister as could be.
“Forgive my rudeness, but may I ask whether you truly are a sister of the Church?”
“Then let me ask you something in return. Can you prove you’re a pilgrim?”
“Yes.”
Lawrence showed her the black holy cross pinned to his robe.
“If you’re a sister, I’m sure you know what this is.”
“What a coincidence. I’ve got one of the same thing.”
A necklace bearing a black holy cross hung over her generous chest.
“What was your name again?”
“Lawrence.”
“Never heard it before.”
She slipped a hand into her skirt.
Still unsatisfied even after smoking one, she drew out a fresh tobacco stick.
“You should stop smoking.”
“Am I your subordinate or something? Don’t tell me what to smoke.”
With a practiced motion, she lit it and took it into her mouth.
“So why did you come?”
“Must a servant of Goddess Belche have a reason to visit a monastery? A monastery is a place to pray to the goddess. Any of her servants should be able to visit at any time.”
“Ahaha. That’s a perfect answer. I don’t know who taught you, but it sounds exactly like the kind of answer a smart kid would give.”
Clearly amused, she laughed and slapped her knee.
The teeth visible in her mouth were sharp, almost like those of a beast.
“If you’re a pilgrim, then I suppose you’re just looking for a place to stay out of the rain. There are plenty of rooms, so rest wherever you like. Just clean up after yourself.”
He had no idea how he was supposed to take this.
Lawrence deeply respected the Church’s clergy.
It was just far too difficult to accept the sister in front of him as she was.
“What happened to the chief priest who used to be in charge of this place?”
“Who?”
“The chief priest.”
“Beats me.”
“Then let me change the question. Is there no steward here?”
“There’s no one here but me.”
“Do you mean no hired workers, either?”
“Why would I hire workers if there’s no one here?”
As if he didn’t even know such a thing, she scolded him.
“No, that’s not right. Now that you’re here, there are two of us. That’s a relief. As the goddess said, two are better than one. If there are two servants of the goddess here….”
“Because She is here with us as well.”
“Oh. You know that one, do you? Yes, yes. A pilgrim ought to know at least that much.”
“…….”
Watching her laugh, Lawrence opened his mouth again.
“What is your name, Sister?”
“Me? And what would you need that for?”
“We’re going to be seeing each other from now on. If we’re both servants of the same goddess, I can’t exactly not know your name.”
“Hmm… is that so?”
The sister pulled the tobacco from her mouth and said,
“Yekaterina, from the Holy See, attached to the Holy Cross Order’s central headquarters. Pleased to meet you, my distant junior.”