Coffee Rosens #1 (7)
"What's wrong? Do you have some idea what it might be?"
"Hmm... It can't be..."
I crossed my arms and thought for a moment, then looked at Rowell.
"Stay here for a bit. I'm heading back to the inn."
"The inn?"
"Stay put. Don't go outside. Ask more about that baby that doesn't cry."
As I stood up, the landowner said something.
"He says it seems like you know something—please help."
"Tell him that's why I'm going."
Rowell calmly soothed the landowner in a steady voice. I left the mansion and walked toward the dimensional gate outside the city.
Suddenly, something black whooshed noisily over my head. A flock of crows.
Crows in the desert?
Now that I noticed, crows were lined up along the railings on the rooftops of the buildings around me, staring at me in unison, their glossy black feathers gleaming like they'd planned it.
Hmm... A murder of crows...
I'd just picked up the Holy Sword at the inn when Pelle approached.
"Where are you taking that?"
"Somewhere I need it."
"Somewhere you need the Holy Sword?"
I explained the situation to her, and her eyes widened slightly.
"No way... It's been over a year since..."
"I know. But the signs point that way."
"I see... If you say so, then it must be."
Pelle nodded slowly, her expression grave. I strapped the Holy Sword to my waist and left the inn, crossing through the city streets.
My destination was the temple on the outskirts of town. Construction was in full swing on the plot beside it. The excavation was mostly done, and the foundation work seemed just about finished.
That spot was going to be some inn or hotel. With Rosens growing and trade and foot traffic exploding, more lodging was only natural.
As far as I knew, there were about ten inns in the city right now. Most were small operations renting out floors in buildings, and even the ones in standalone structures were half our size at best. So I hadn't paid much attention. But this one was bothering me.
Even at a glance, the foundation was three times the size of ours. A building that big would be at least four or five stories, no matter how conservatively you figured.
To build something like that from scratch meant big capital—not some individual, but a proper corporate outfit. I knew all too well how relentlessly and systematically those professional operators squeezed out the competition.
Couldn't just barge in and smash the place up, though. I'd have to ask Hildeva for the details later.
But that wasn't important right now.
I pushed open the temple doors to find young nuns in the middle of cleaning.
"Hello, sisters."
"Welcome, innkeeper!"
The nuns greeted me with that bubbly energy only their age could muster. They looked about Atergar's age, but how could they be so different? If only Atergar took after them half as much.
Maybe I should drag that one here and force her into a month of volunteer service.
One nun scampered inside.
"Saintess! The innkeeper's here!"
There was a clatter from the inner room. Moments later, the door flew open, and Celereja came rushing out in a fluster.
"Bertrand? What brings you here? Did you come to see me?"
The nuns giggled and whispered among themselves as Celereja blushed. Their eyes darted busily between us—probably spinning girlish fantasies about our relationship.
"That's right, Saintess. I need you to come with me."
"E-eh...? Come with you...? But... I'm still affiliated with the church... The wedding..."
"Not that. Let's go to Al-Behbad together."
"Al-Behbad? The desert kingdom? It'd make for a special honeymoon... But like I said..."
The nuns burst into squeals, hiding their faces bashfully.
No, what the hell were these saintess and nuns up to?
I cleared my throat and explained the situation to Celereja. Her face hardened instantly.
She pulled me outside so the nuns couldn't hear and shut the door.
"What you just said—is that certain?"
"Yeah. Probably. I need you, Saintess."
"Hard to believe... How could something like that happen...?"
Celereja wrinkled her nose, lost in thought.
"But... from what you've described... it fits."
"Dimensional gate's open. Let's go. We need to act today—can't say what'll happen tomorrow."
"True. Hmm... But will I even be any help...?"
She fidgeted, hesitant.
"You use holy power."
"But I still can't control it properly... Just basic holy healing or weak holy beams at best..."
"That's enough. Come with me. Who else in this city is a saintess?"
She pondered, then nodded.
"You're right. If I dodge danger, I don't deserve to be a cleric here. Let's go."
With that, Celereja suddenly turned to grab her things from the temple.
"No need for luggage."
"But the trip might be long—shouldn't I pack a sleeping bag or something? We could share one anyway, so it won't be heavy..."
"Uh, yeah... No need. Let's just go."
I dragged the disappointed Celereja back to the inn.
We stepped through the dimensional gate into Al-Behbad, and Celereja let out a low groan.
"Ugh... It's so hot..."
"Desert, remember? First time?"
"Yeah. I've only ever been in Verabche."
"Once this is over, I'll show you around properly."
"Hee... Sounds good..."
Back at the mansion, a few people were waiting—priests, judging by their robes.
"Rowell."
Rowell glanced at the Holy Sword.
"You're back, sir. With the sword, I see."
"Figured I'd need it."
"The landowner called in the priests. They have questions for you."
"No time. I've figured it out—better solve it ASAP."
Rowell translated, and the priests bombarded me with questions.
"They're asking all sorts—want me to interpret?"
"Tell them we don't know what else might happen while we chat. By sunset, everyone in this city could be bleeding from their pores and dropping dead."
The priests paled.
"They ask what to do."
"Tell them to stay out of the way. The saintess here will handle it."
Celereja startled and looked up at me.
"B-Bertrand...!"
"This is Celereja, Saintess from Rosens in the Verabche Kingdom. Remember the name."
"What are you doing!?"
Celereja flailed wildly, but Rowell translated faithfully. The priests got even more excited, gesturing wildly among themselves.
"They want to know if she's really a saintess and if it's serious enough to call one."
"Tell them to butt out and everything will be fine."
I said that, then led Celereja and Rowell out of the mansion.
"You know where that non-crying baby's house is?"
"Follow me."
Rowell guided us to the place.
Tall walls lined narrow, twisting alleys packed with rundown mud huts—nothing like the landowner's mansion. That was our target.
"Bertrand... You sure this is okay...?"
Celereja glanced back as she walked ahead of me.
"I've got you."
"I know, but... This is my first time with something like this... I'm so nervous..."
"Everyone's nervous the first time. Do well here, who knows? Might get promoted to arch-saintess or something."
There was a reason I'd dragged Celereja along. I wanted her to make a big contribution, earn recognition from the church, and solidify her position. She was Rosens's cleric. The stronger her voice, the more benefits the city got—which meant more for the inn.
Same logic as tying Hildeva to the administrator role after all that hassle, or handing Hardo the chimera head. Soon I'd promote Lambertz to captain and bump this little saintess up to arch-saintess or lead saintess.
Of course, all premised on them knowing it was "thanks to Bertrand Balder."
Otherwise, it'd be like feeding the dog your stew.
"This is the house, sir."
Rowell stopped in front of it. A few people were in the narrow yard, performing some ritual—slitting a goat's throat and splattering its blood on the walls. A common desert rite to ward off stray spirits.
Rowell greeted them softly and introduced us. The exhausted, hollow-eyed folk—deprived of sleep for days—shook their heads at us.
Rowell spread his arms reassuringly and explained calmly. They stepped back, making way.
"Sir, shall we go in?"
"You stay here with them. Just me and the saintess."
"Be careful."
Celereja pressed close to my side. She was breathing raggedly from nerves, her shoulder heaving against my arm.
"B-Bertrand..."
"I've got you. This is what high saintesses do anyway."
"Okay..."
We entered the house—pitch black like night despite the midday sun. Celereja screamed at the top of her lungs when she saw what was inside.