Chapter 21
Chapter 21
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Recap - 3
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"Is this... really meaningful?"
Seeing the maid following behind me with bread baskets tucked under both arms, a sigh escaped my lips unbidden.
"Of course it is!"
The maid beamed from ear to ear as she walked alongside me.
"Volunteering? I've done my share already."
In a way, wasn't even me lingering here in a daze a form of volunteering?
"That's different! This is all for fun!"
"Fun?"
"There are plenty of noble acts in the world, but it's not like only those truly deserving of great sacrifice get to reap the benefits."
"Can't be helped."
"But efficiency is a thing, you know."
Maybe it was because I'd met the Archer, but my heart felt coldly sunken.
I probably wasn't wearing the kind of expression ideal for meeting young children.
"Volunteering for nobles or royals? Terrible return on investment. You bust your hump serving them, and they just see it as their due—no thank you, off they go."
"Is that something a maid should be saying?"
"W-well, anyway! Some folks are genuinely grateful for the smallest help, while others—even if you risk your life for them—make you wonder if the sacrifice was worth it."
Maids were usually symbols of service and devotion, weren't they?
Well, they were people too, after all. Maybe they had their own agendas, or maybe they were just burnt out and muttering curses under their breath.
"So, an orphanage, then..."
"You've seemed so down lately. Time to heal up a bit with some cute kids!"
"..."
It didn't sound like the wholesomest of intentions.
-You're kids abandoned by your parents, so you ought to be sincerely thankful even for scraps like this.
-No one else gives a damn about the likes of you, so obviously you need to suck up and be grateful for my donations.
Could volunteering driven by thoughts like that ever be meaningful?
"Doesn't seem all that pure-hearted."
"It's the action! Action is what counts!"
"By that logic, this isn't even my money to begin with."
I had no idea how much the Imperial Family was footing the bill in my name, but the maid had shrewdly prepared all the donation items ahead of time.
"The Emperor said to give the Baron 'whatever he needs,' right? That's recognition of your merits, so in the end, it's you doing the donating!"
The maid's footsteps halted in front of an old building adorned with a bizarre symbol.
"This the orphanage?"
"More precisely, it's a temple to Erinis."
"Not exactly great for the kids' emotional well-being."
At first glance, it lacked the beautiful radiance or holy light you associated with a cathedral.
Small sculptures lined the courtyard, evoking a somewhat cruel vibe.
A god clutching a spear and stabbing a person, or statues depicting something engulfed in flames. And toward the end, the forms grew increasingly distorted.
At the very end stood a grotesque, formless abomination whose meaning was impossible to discern.
"What the hell is this?"
From experience, holy icons were best as clear depictions of angels or goddesses—or entirely metaphysical abstractions.
Not that straightforward statues were inherently appealing.
Worshippers of evil gods feared beholding their deity's true form directly, let alone sculpting it.
Plus, blatant evil god statues left no room for excuses when inquisitors came knocking, so they favored vague, hideous, indefinable shapes.
The maid's unchanged expression confirmed these had always been here. Last thing I needed was to get dragged into some incident...
"These are goddess statues handmade by the kids who come here! Pretty, aren't they?"
"Huh. Yeah, I suppose."
Looking again after hearing that, they did vaguely resemble human shapes. The material wasn't chiseled stone either—just clumps of nearby mud molded by hand.
"Alright, line up one by one. No rude behavior."
An elderly man with snow-white whiskers led a group of children out.
"Thank you!"
They were just kids.
Having more than twenty of them bow their heads in thanks to me made my chest tighten.
No one had ever thanked me. Not after all that hardship I'd endured, all that insane patience I'd mustered.
Yet here they were, thanking me sincerely for a few baskets of bread that weren't even mine.
"We are truly grateful, Baron. Please, come inside for a chat."
"...Very well."
Of course, it probably wasn't coming from the heart. But that was only natural.
A child who could properly convey genuine gratitude to a stranger on first sight would be precociously mature.
The director—or priest of this place—looked plenty stubborn. The kind of man with the patience to rein in even the rowdiest kids.
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"We are sincerely grateful. We do our utmost to keep the children from going hungry, but kids that age are always starving."
"Growing years..."
"The grudges of famine carve themselves into the bones."
It was a spartan room, but a few faded holy icons hung on the walls.
"That red-haired figure... is the god you serve here?"
The old man chuckled heartily, gazing at the icon with eyes full of reverence.
"Indeed. The Goddess of Vengeance, Erinis. She is the one we serve."
"The church tolerates this place?"
"Those zealots brand anything not their 'goddess' as heresy, but the Empire's different. They leave you be if you're serving a god and doing good works."
"So that's why the orphanage?"
A vengeance goddess and an orphanage didn't seem to mesh, no matter how you sliced it.
"No. Empire permits it or not, plenty of folks crave vengeance. Erinis's faithful won't die out."
He casually rolled up his sleeve, revealing a crude, jagged tattoo of a name crossed out with an X.
"I devoted myself to Erinis and completed my vengeance. My remaining days are for easing grudges wherever I can, that her weary form might find rest."
"Doesn't the Goddess's church run places like this?"
"They do—bigger, better facilities. But they turn away some kids, or boot them out. Leave 'em be, and brothels or criminals scoop them up, so we take our chances and rescue who we can."
The old man handed me a cup of red tea. It had a fishy tang, yet it sharpened the mind and opened the eyes.
"Vengeance-seekers and their spawn are likelier to end up on the streets than in blue blood."
Thinking about it that way, a vengeance goddess's priest running an orphanage didn't seem so odd.
"Fortunately, this Demon King was taken down pretty quickly... What a relief. One more year, and we'd have run short on food—not to mention space."
"So... that helped, then."
"Absolutely!"
I felt a little better.
My efforts hadn't been pointless. That patience, that ordeal—it had saved lives, even if they were nameless strangers.
Even if everyone else was wrong, I wasn't.
The maid had been right. I'd doubted it at first, but this was a fine spot to shake off the gloom.
"You've done good work. Time to head out."
As I rose to leave with a refreshed mind, the old man called me back.
"Already?"
"...Is there more?"
"Didn't you seek out this old man for some purpose of your own?"
The air shifted.
I wasn't even looking at him, yet I felt the pierce of his sharp gaze. In my mind's eye, it wasn't the kindly stubborn elder anymore—but a priest of the vengeance god.
"No. Just had extra bread..."
"You carry sorrow and grudge in your heart."
"Vengeance... I don't feel the burning need. I'd rather it never comes to that."
I mattered more than that damned Hero party.
I loathed them to my core, but striking at them now would pit me against the Emperor too. My return home would drag on.
Hell, even shoving a knife into the Princess or the Mage right this instant—I'd have to look at their faces, their bodies in that moment. Couldn't stomach it.
Even that hatred didn't outweigh me.
"Wise words. Erinis herself teaches: 'Forgoing grudges is paramount; vengeance, a lesser path.'"
The priest of vengeance stood unyielding, his breath steady as stone.
"But to abandon vengeance that must be done defies justice—and condemns one's remaining life to torment."
As if. I wouldn't even remember them that long.
"Forgiveness is noble, but never—under no circumstances—must you compromise."
The unyielding statue of vengeance itself seemed to open its mouth and speak to me.