The Vengeful Woman (4)

There were plenty of ways in Luke's Biography to drive a ghost off temporarily.

"But the only way to destroy one completely is to break the curse."

That said, tampering carelessly with the catalyst's formula could set off something I couldn't control. Unlike Maria, who handled curse formulas with practiced ease, all I could manage was patching one up after the fact.

"Which means we have to resolve the ghost's grudge."

And to do that, I needed to know exactly what had happened to her.

I started by laying out everything we'd learned in the field.

"First. A woman murdered with a dagger became a ghost."

A dagger had been buried in her corpse. The grudge from that killing might well have been what turned her into one.

"Second. Two dead men were found near the ghost."

Besides the woman's body, there had been two male corpses. It looked like the ghost-woman had killed them.

"Third. One of those two men was close to her."

One of the bodies had been wearing a ring that matched hers. The two of them had almost certainly been lovers.

"Fourth. The other man was from Grat Village."

The remaining corpse had been wearing an armband used in Grat Village. Identifying him wouldn't be difficult.

"Does any of that ring a bell?"

I was sitting across from the village chief in his house in Grat Village.

"Hmm… One of them would be our youth association president. Not long after the ghost appeared, he said he'd handle it somehow, went into the fields alone, and never came back."

Was the man insane? He'd charged a ghost by himself?

"…Was he an idiot?"

"W-well, he did die honorably for the village…"

"No. That's just natural selection."

I'd wondered if one of the two corpses might be the woman's killer. But according to the chief, the youth association president had entered the fields after she was already dead.

So was the one wearing the matching ring the murderer? Had the lovers quarreled?

"No. That can't be it."

Thinking it through again — if one of those two had been the killer, the woman's grudge should already have been settled. Maybe the real murderer was still alive.

"Ah… what can't be it, exactly?"

"Sorry. Just talking to myself. So you don't know who the ghost's body belongs to, or the other man?"

"Well… aside from the youth association president, no one from Grat has gone missing."

"…Understood."

Outsiders were a real possibility. Both rings had held gemstones — precious things for people in a backwater like this to own. If they'd been locals from Grat, this would have been much simpler.

By the time I stepped out of the chief's house, the sun was already sinking. My eyelids felt heavy. I wanted nothing more than to rest, but I had no intention of putting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this off until tomorrow.

"Young master. You tired? The circles under your eyes are darker than usual."

Brenden came over with a torch and peered at my face.

"I'm fine for now. Where are Clara and Andy?"

"The young lady's asleep at the inn. Andy's still bouncing around."

Clara had burned through a lot of mana. The mental strain must have been considerable. Better to let her rest properly.

"Did you talk to the villagers?"

"Asked around pretty thoroughly. The one with the armband was the youth association president, like they said. Nobody knew a thing about the other two."

I'd had Brenden put his men on canvassing the village, asking the same questions I'd put to the chief. Apparently nothing new had turned up.

"Did you happen to visit the youth association president's house?"

"I did. Nobody there but his old mother. She said that while he was alive, he'd been completely gone on a woman named Lana."

"Who's Lana?"

"Didn't dig that far. But the old woman's got dementia — could've just been rambling."

"Lord Karl."

Thomas approached. The priest who'd been trying to spread the Lumenic Church's influence over this land. Progress on that front had stalled, so maybe he'd come to needle me. I was too tired to deal with him right now.

"What is it? If this is about the ghost—"

"Th-the dagger. The silver one."

Thankfully, it seemed he hadn't come looking for a fight.

"I believe I recognize it… May I take a look?"

"…Don't touch it."

I held the dagger out to Thomas. The silver blade that had been lodged in the ghost-woman's corpse.

"Yes. This is it. A dagger for banishing evil. A married couple brought it to me once, asking me to consecrate it. They were followers of Lumenic."

I'd suspected as much from the silver, but it seemed the dagger had been crafted to ward off ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠evil — much like Maria's silver pendant.

"How can you be sure?"

"I can still feel traces of my formula on it. The consecration itself has faded, though."

So two formulas had been worked into the blade. I could only sense the curse formula. No talent for holy magic, so that was hardly surprising.

"Were they locals? What were their names?"

"I don't recall the names. They said they'd come from another city. I'm certain they meant to settle in this village… though strangely, I haven't seen them lately."

"The rings. Were both of them wearing rings on their left hands?"

"Yes. Ones set with gemstones."

"Then those corpses in the field are that couple, ain't they? I haven't seen a young married pair among the villagers."

"If the bodies in the field are theirs… aigoo… how tragic… They were such a lovely couple…"

Thomas might not have been someone I particularly liked, but he didn't seem rotten at the core. He genuinely seemed to mourn the young couple's fate. Not that it was enough to revise my first impression of him.

It seemed certain now that the couple the priest described were the bodies lying in the field — a husband and wife with matching gemstone rings and a silver dagger.

One thing still didn't add up, though.

"…If the people of Grat Village knew that couple, wouldn't they have guessed who the bodies were the moment we mentioned them?"

"You'd think so."

"But every single villager claimed they knew nothing about the corpses. As if they'd never heard of the couple at all."

"Uh… so maybe not?"

Brenden tilted his head like an idiot.

And then a revolting idea began to crawl up from somewhere deep. Alongside it, the hallucinations started. The sky rippled like a black lake slicked with violet oil, and countless eyes embedded in every house in the village turned to stare at me.

"Lord Karl?"

"Young master? Young master? You all right?"

"Ah. I'm fine. Brenden. Was there an empty house in the village?"

I shook my head hard to clear the vision and asked Brenden.

"There was one. Stood a ways off from the others, though. Built different from the local style, too."

"…Let's go there."

I brought all the men and went to the house Brenden had mentioned. Clara had joined us at some point as well.

"Young lady. You're up already?"

"Yes. I've rested enough."

Just as Brenden had said, the house sat a little apart from the others, and its construction differed from the buildings typical of the barony.

Priest Thomas had naturally tagged along. The village chief, a few young men wearing armbands, and several others had followed as well — the natural-selection youth association president's successors, I supposed.

The chief approached me with a distinctly uncomfortable look on his face.

"Young master. What business do you have with this house…?"

"Chief. Wasn't there a young couple in this village? Ones who'd come from the city…"

"Why would city folk come all the way out here?"

Priest Thomas pressed the chief with a visibly agitated expression. The chief answered as though he knew nothing at all.

While Thomas kept the chief occupied, I opened the door. The chief tried to stop me, but the priest wouldn't let him go, piling on question after question. Brenden and his men blocked the village youths from interfering.

"Andy."

"Yes, sir!"

"You seem pretty good at finding things. Tear this place apart."

"Leave it to me!"

Andy darted around and had the interior overturned in moments. When he finally toppled a bookshelf, he uncovered a hidden safe — set into a recessed space in the middle of the wall.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Clara. Can you open that?"

"I can. Andy, step back."

Once Andy moved clear of the safe, Clara drew up her mana. She seemed intent on shifting the metal with earth magic.

…And I watched the safe tear cleanly in half.

I'd expected something a little more conventional.

Inside were glittering jewels, heavy coin purses — and a single book.

"Brother… this looks like a diary…"

I took the book from Clara and read through it quickly.

"Brother…?"

My expression must have been grim; Clara called to me in a careful tone. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't in any mood to answer.

"Filthy, backward savages."

At my mutter, Clara stepped up beside me and read the pages herself. I didn't need to look to know her face had twisted.