The Newly Appointed Heresy Inquisitor (4)
"…The missing man — the one suspected of heresy — is named Antony. …And his wife's name is Marie."
Veronica spoke almost under her breath. The sight of the cellar seemed to have sharpened her guard.
Bloodstains covered every wall. A dark magic circle drawn in blood sprawled across the floor.
Surely they didn't kill anyone.
This was a small parish. If they had, Father Daniel would have noticed.
"Dorothy. This isn't human blood, is it?"
Still, it never hurt to be sure. I asked her.
"Animal blood. Smells like chicken. Me."
"…Dorothy. …Can you check the scent of the bones that make up the altar as well?"
Veronica pointed to the bone altar standing at the center of the dark magic circle.
Dorothy sniffed the air, then tilted her head.
"Don't know. What kind of bones. But. Same smell."
"…Same smell?"
"The bone Master received."
Veronica drew a bone from her shadow — the one Father Daniel had given us. He said he'd found it in this house, and we had confirmed it was a curse catalyst.
"…It seems Father Daniel never found this cellar. …He must have picked up the bone upstairs."
"So one of the bones from the altar was left up there?"
Veronica held the lantern close to the altar and fitted the bone against one of the gaps.
"…It looks like it belonged right here."
She tucked the bone back into her shadow and touched the straw doll bound atop the altar.
"…This doll is not a catalyst."
She nodded as if to say I could touch it too. Just as she'd said, I felt nothing.
"Father Daniel found a straw doll as well. That one wasn't a catalyst either. It looks like they attempted the curse at least twice and failed both times."
"…So not a proper dark mage, then. …They must have gotten their hands on a grimoire somehow and were clumsily following along."
"Either way, they succeeded once — we have a catalyst to prove it. Though I still don't know why that particular bone from the altar became the catalyst."
"Hey. Something over there."
Dorothy pointed toward a corner of the cellar. We'd been so focused on the altar that we hadn't checked the darker recesses.
I stepped closer and raised the lantern. A desk sat there. Veronica lit the candle resting on top of it as well.
"…There's a sheet of paper with a formula drawn on it. …It's the Curse of Withering."
The Curse of Withering. Among both innate and acquired curses, it was the most basic and the most common. Its effect was simple — it gnawed away at the target's life force, nothing more. The only real difference from other curses was how much faster it burned through that life force.
"…There's writing on it. …Not Laviartan. …Baron, can you read it by any chance?"
"Let me take a look."
As a perk of my possession, I had received Laviartan fluency equal to my native tongue, and other national languages equal to my foreign-language ability. There had been times the system failed to inform me in time and nearly got me killed.
The characters on the paper Veronica held out weren't as familiar as Laviartan, but I could read them. I even had a fair idea which country they belonged to.
"It says 'Robert.' These are the characters of the United Kingdom."
The Yumania–Peophir United Kingdom. A confederation on the western edge of the continent. Originally fully independent nations, they had joined forces to resist the Laviart Empire's wars of expansion — and still maintained that arrangement to this day.
"Looks like the name of the person they were trying to curse."
"…I think we've learned everything there is to learn here. …Before we go back up, Baron. …A word, if you would."
Alexander, who until then had been speaking with the farmer's wife, received some instruction from Veronica and stepped outside. In his place, I sat down in front of the woman.
"Ma'am. Have you ever been down into the cellar?"
"No… My husband forbade it completely… I don't even have a key…"
"And you have no idea what's down there?"
"No… I really don't…"
"Do you know anyone by the name of Robert?"
I mentioned the name we'd found in the cellar. The farmer's wife seemed to recognize it; after a moment's thought, she spoke.
"I can't be certain, but… he's probably someone my husband knows… I think I've heard the name…"
"Is he from the United Kingdom?"
"…How did you know that…"
"We found a paper in the cellar with the name Robert written on it — in the script of the United Kingdom."
"…That would be right, then… Truth is, my husband and I… we're from the United Kingdom ourselves…"
According to the wife, the couple had fled the United Kingdom because of debt. They had slipped into a merchant caravan bound for the Empire and made their way here in secret. At first they had tried to live in a city, but things fell apart again and they ran once more, eventually settling in this place. Robert, she said, was likely a debt collector who had hounded her husband back in the United Kingdom.
Veronica would have caught on by now as well.
The reason the farmer had failed to cast his curse was simple — the target was too far away. He must have studied dark magic in the most half-hearted way imaginable.
But he had succeeded at least once. The remaining catalyst made that certain. Meaning the curse had been cast on someone other than Robert.
"Is there anyone in this area who didn't get along with your husband?"
"No… There were some money troubles, but… my husband gets along well with people… There weren't any real problems here…"
"…That will be enough, Baron."
I'd wanted to identify the curse's target somehow, but if even the wife knew nothing, there was little to be done. I rose from my seat and made to follow Veronica out.
"We'll be going, then. Ma'am. If there's any progress, we'll—"
"W-wait. If you find my husband… what will you do to him…?"
Worried about a husband who might be branded a heretic, was she? Veronica nodded as if to say I could tell her.
"This is imperial territory. Using dark magic isn't something we can punish severely on our own. We're simply trying to grasp the full picture of the heretical acts that took place within the parish — to prevent them from happening again. You needn't worry too much."
In a parish where the Lumenic Church held strong influence under a cooperative lord, things might have been different. But here in the First Parish, there was no cooperative noble at all — just a single cathedral standing alone.
"…"
The wife lowered her head without a word. Whether my answer had reassured her or left her just as anxious, I couldn't tell.
"…Baron. …It isn't always like that."
"Pardon?"
"…Once the Enforcement Division is dispatched, they sometimes ignore political circumstances entirely and hand down severe punishments. …They tend to be rather… extreme."
Veronica was speaking to me, but the words were meant for the farmer's wife as well. As long as she wasn't the one being addressed, listening to Veronica caused her no pain from the Curse of Severance.
The wife kept her head bowed and showed no particular reaction.
After receiving lunch from Father Daniel at the cathedral, the Special Task Force arrived at the entrance to the forest where the farmer had vanished — the place where a magical beast had been sighted, causing everyone else to abandon the search.
"Aah, what a pain. Do we really have to find the old guy?"
"…I don't rate the missing man's chances of still being alive very high. …But heretical activity did take place here, so we at least need to make a show of searching before we head back."
"J-just taking down the magical beast would be enough of an achievement… It's a threat to the parish, after all…"
"…We'll split into teams. …I'll go with Agnes. …Baron, Dorothy — please follow Alexander."
"Uh… m-me…?"
"Ahaha! Alexander's the senior here, so of course!"
"Ugh…"
Alexander tensed up badly at being told to lead us, but the real weight of responsibility didn't rest on him — it rested on Dorothy. Veronica had clearly built the teams around Agnes and Dorothy, the two with the strongest search capabilities.
"Th-then… this way, Baron…"
"Very well."
"…Come back in four hours. …Before it gets dark."
"R-right…"
Dorothy and I set off behind Alexander. Veronica and Agnes turned their backs on us and headed in the opposite direction.
After walking for some time, Dorothy — with her naturally superior stamina — ended up taking the lead. My own breathing was starting to grow ragged.
"Hehe… Agnes has way too much stamina… I can never keep up with her… Veronica's much better than me too… You seem about the same as me, Baron…"
"Is that so. I was worried I was the only one with terrible stamina."
"Hehe… Then we're comrades…"
Alexander's endurance seemed roughly on par with mine. Not that I was one to talk, but if his body was in a condition similar to Karl's, just how little exercise had he been getting?
He must have been getting warm; he pulled off the cloak he'd been wearing over his head and carried it in his hands.
"Give me the cloak."
"Huh? I'm fine, really…"
"I'll put it in my shadow."
"B-Baron, you can do that too? I'm so jealous… Nobody can except Veronica…"
Dark magic depended heavily on talent, after all. Alexander and Agnes had both altered their own curses, so they weren't entirely without gift — but still.
I took the cloak from him and slipped it into my shadow.
That was when Dorothy stopped dead in her tracks.
"Master. Smell."
"What kind of smell?"
"Animal smell. The house. From earlier. Cat smell."
Had the cat that left the house come all the way out here?
"Cats. Smell is usually weak. But. Strong now. …Getting closer. Master. Alexander. Step back."
Apparently this was no time for idle thoughts. Dorothy transformed into the shape of a massive wolf. Through her altered ability, her armor swelled to match her enormous frame.
"St-st-stay close to me. Th-th-then you'll be safe… A-Agnes will notice soon and come running…!"
Staying near Alexander would thin our presence, so we wouldn't be targeted first. Trembling violently, he linked his arm through mine. That pitiful sight — a delicate-faced youth declaring he'd protect me — somehow stirred a protective instinct of its own.
Something appeared without a sound and slammed into Dorothy. It moved too fast for my eyes to follow.
— Grrrrrk!
Dorothy let out a low growl and swept her blade, flinging the creature away.
— Hyaaaaaaak…!
With astonishing balance, it twisted midair and landed on its feet — then loosed a shrieking cry toward Dorothy that sounded like something tearing apart.
"B-Baron…?"
"…I'm fine."
Alexander had noticed me trembling and asked with concern. My body had locked up at the sight of the phantom — a body wreathed in shadow — that only appeared on those afflicted by a curse. Even if the target was a beast, it was the same.
This was unmistakably the magical beast said to have appeared in the forest.