How Can You Be So Sure?
How can you be so sure?
We followed Dominica into the forest the moment the sky began to lighten.
Bella asked, “Did you know my parents, Director?”
“Yes. I was wandering the woods when I happened to meet them.”
“Then you must have known they were mages as well.”
“That’s right.”
Bella’s lips parted as if to ask something more, then fell still. She seemed afraid of the answer, so I asked for her.
“Why didn’t you tell Bella the truth?”
“Because I could see the future that would wait for her if I did,” Dominica replied. “Miss Bella had lost her memories from the shock, but if I spoke of her parents she would almost certainly remember. She would have grown up burning with vengeance—and her target would have been the bishop of this very parish.”
“You knew that too?”
“I couldn’t be certain, but I suspected.”
“I see.”
“And if Miss Bella had killed him, she would have spent the rest of her life hunted by the Holy Empire.”
An accurate guess. In the previous timeline Bella had become the Witch of Jealousy, slaughtered priests, and finally met her end at Ludian’s hand.
“That’s why I told her to keep the magic-stone necklace tucked inside her clothes whenever people were around…”
Dominica’s gaze made Bella scratch her head.
“Hehe… if I leave it on it rubs against my skin. I only took it off when no one was around, but I guess someone still saw.”
Dominica let out a long sigh. “Perhaps this too was fate. A trial you try to avoid yet must eventually face…”
I answered her. “Even so, the future you feared—Bella being hunted by the Holy Empire—won’t come to pass.”
“Yes. All thanks to you, Inquisitor.”
Dominica smiled faintly and turned to Bella. “And Miss Bella… I’m sorry I kept it from you all this time.”
“Don’t be. I’m grateful to you, Director.”
“Grateful?”
“Yes.” Bella touched the magic-stone necklace. “Even knowing I carried a mage’s blood, you treated me the same as everyone else. And more than that—you were ready to give your life to protect me. So you don’t need to apologize.”
Bella smiled. Dominica stared at her for a moment, then smiled back and walked on.
“Many of the Empire’s clergy see magic as the remnant of demons that destroy everything. I think differently.” She looked up at the clear sky. “I believe magic is beautiful. I’ve seen theirs, after all. Yes, it has a destructive side—but so do humans. Some make others smile; some cast them into despair…”
She glanced back at us. “In that sense, I believe both of you are the kind who make others smile.”
I tilted my head. “Bella, fine. But me? You only met me today.”
“Yes. Your power is certainly something to fear—but you used that power to protect my children’s smiles.”
I considered that, then said, “Most of the people who stand at the tip of my sword fall into despair. They beg for their lives, they run, or they charge me and get run through. One of those three. Does that change your mind?”
Dominica shook her head. “No. I still believe you were right.”
“I see.”
“May I ask just one more thing?”
“Ask away.”
She met my eyes. “Inquisitor Cael… do you wish to live in the dark?”
“The dark?”
“Yes. Somehow you seem to shun the light.”
I thought it over, then nodded. “Maybe. The vermin mostly crawl in the dark, so I go to them myself.”
“Ah…”
“But…” I drew my sword and held it straight before me. “I cut the dark, and cut it again, until there’s nothing left to cut. At the end of that, I only hope a little light remains.”
In my past life I had cut vermin and cut them again, only to face the vast abyss called the Demon God. Even if that past self had slain the Demon God, I could not be certain light would have been waiting. No—I had been certain the end was nothing but an empty hell.
“Is that greed?”
“No. There will be light at the end.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I will pray for you, Inquisitor.”
Her eyes were far too serious for a joke. I gave a short laugh and sheathed the sword.
“I see.”
Then I looked at Bella, who was sniffling beside me. “Why are you crying again?”
“…Because it’s sad.”
“Is that so? I think the fact you can’t even sing properly is sadder.”
Bella’s tears stopped. “Why do you always do that?”
“Why do you?”
She held out her hand. “Truce?”
“Make peace with your vocal cords first.”
“Hey!”
“We’ve arrived.”
Dominica stopped. The area was smaller than the surrounding growth—burned once, yet the grass and trees that had returned were a deeper green.
“Somewhere here a barrier was raised. I don’t know exactly where, so we’ll have to search.”
“The burned zone is large. It’ll take time.”
“Yes, probably.”
I called them back as they started to scatter. “Wait.”
“Yes?”
“Follow me. This way.”
They exchanged puzzled looks but came after me. I stopped where the grass grew longer and less green than the rest—as if only this patch had never burned.
I tapped the ground with my foot.
A faint ripple spread, and a rectangular chest sealed in magic circles appeared.
“Touch the magic-stone necklace to that, and it should open.”
I pointed to the diamond-shaped hollow in the circle. Bella blinked.
“How did you know so easily?”
“I’m taller than you.”
“Ah.”
“Just put it on already.”
“Y-yes.”
Looking nervous, Bella approached the barrier, knelt on one knee, and pressed the necklace into the groove.
Soft light spilled out as the magic circles crumbled away. Once they vanished I said, “Open it.”
“Yes.”
Bella swallowed hard and carefully lifted the lid. Nothing remarkable—just dozens of books packed inside.
“What are these?”
“Magic tomes.”
Quite a collection for anything short of an Imperial Magic Tower. Bella’s parents might not have been fighters, but their knowledge of magic had clearly been exceptional. In the previous life she must have found this place and grown into the Witch of Jealousy. Dying Dominica had probably told her where it was.
“Everything’s neatly arranged… except this one sitting on top of the others.”
Bella picked up a single volume. On its cover was written:
Magic for Bella, and for Everyone
As if possessed, she opened it and began to read. Her eyes raced across the pages; her hands turned them without hesitation. In less than ten minutes she closed the book.
“I… I think I can use this magic.”
Even a once-in-a-century genius couldn’t master a spell in ten minutes. Bella might manage something simple, but the tome had looked complex. Most likely she already knew the magic and was only remembering it.
“Inquisitor… may I try it?”
She looked up at me, uneasy—afraid someone else might see her magic.
“Go ahead. You already blew up the parish hall. Burning a forest is nothing.”
“….”
“I mean stop looking so guilty. If even you fear magic, what’s the point? Magic reflects the caster’s heart and knowledge. With that attitude you might as well quit.”
Bella rose, her expression turning serious in an instant. “Understood. I’ll try.”
“Do it.”
I kicked off the ground and put a hundred paces between us. Bella stared after me in shock.
“Isn’t that a bit far?”
“Better safe than sorry. Director Dominica, you step back as well.”
“Ah—yes.” She hurried to my side.
Bella eyed our tiny figures, licked her lips, then focused. “All right. Starting now.”
She clasped her hands before her chest and began to draw up mana.
A vast tide of it. Not as much as when she had crushed Roselle, but still enormous.
Is she controlling it?
Unstable yet deliberate. I had expected mana control to take far longer—yet she was no ordinary mage. No wonder she had once been destined for the Seven Deadly Sins. And no one had even taught her properly.
Sweat beaded on her brow as she continued. Yesterday’s total exhaustion had not fully recovered; of course it would strain her. Whatever spell she wanted this badly, I would soon find out.
Her eyes snapped open—and the mana surrounding her vanished in an instant. No roaring flames, no freezing cold. Only a deep, peaceful stillness.
Hm?
I realized she was staring upward, so I lifted my own gaze.
Something vast hung across the clouds.
Daytime skies are blue. Sometimes they turn red with blood, but otherwise—so long as clouds do not intervene—blue is what you see.
But this…
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. Seven bands of light arched in a magnificent curve, laying a bridge across the heavens.
“Ah…” Dominica covered her mouth with both hands. “This was it. I first met them by following this giant rainbow…”
Even I was stunned. Of course I had seen rainbows before. Never one large enough to span the entire sky. Only magic could create such a sight.
Bella was already on her hands and knees, gasping. I leapt lightly and landed beside her.
“So this was the memory that remained.”
She caught her breath and nodded. “…Yes. I saw this rainbow with my parents. I thought it only looked huge because I was little… but it really was.”
“Of course. Even now it’s not that big.”
A soft laugh escaped her. Then she clenched a fistful of grass as if holding something down.
“Inquisitor.”
“Speak.”
Her voice was unsteady. “Thank you.”
I ignored the soft, cricket-like sniffling that followed. Instead I shaded my eyes against the brilliant light and looked up again.
Bella’s rainbow was already fading. But whenever she wished, it would rise again.
“Yeah.”
The next day, at the Holy See of the Holy Empire of Ella.
In the council chamber countless clergy had gathered in one place.
“As you all know, last night the Divinar parish hall was destroyed, and Bishop Roselle, who oversaw it, perished,” said the bald cardinal, Gregory. “And the one who did this is the newly appointed Inquisitor Cael—the same man who killed Baron Scalen during the recent Inquisitor examination.”
“….”
“What happened in the examination deserves praise. This, however, is more troublesome.”
Cardinal Barun immediately countered. “Troublesome how? According to the report, Bishop Roselle ordered Inquisitors to slaughter innocent civilians.”
“….”
“And that isn’t all. Roselle murdered blameless mages, falsely reported them as demons, and rose to the bishopric on that lie. If that isn’t heresy, what is?”
“I grieve those tragedies,” Gregory said. “But Inquisitor Cael’s methods are far too rough. Both incidents occurred in less than a week. And neither was a minor affair.”
“That is hardly Inquisitor Cael’s fault.”
“Even so. An Inquisitor’s authority is immense. Wield it so recklessly and problems will inevitably arise. I believe some measure of restraint is required.” Gregory continued, “I have also heard that his sub-deacon uses magic. Word will spread—complaints will follow.”
“Kheheh… so that was your true aim.” Barun laughed low. “If you wish to keep me in check because I am friendly toward magic, say so directly. Do not hide behind others and talk in circles.”
“….”
“It is petty.”
Barun’s and Gregory’s gazes locked in silence. The other clergy carefully stayed out of it.
“Now, now—everyone, calm yourselves.”
At the mediator’s voice every face tensed.
“The Goddess is watching.”
A kindly yet formidable old man: Pope Ventus Telarion.
“Forgive us, Your Holiness.”
“Please pardon us.”
Barun and Gregory both bowed their heads. The Pope only chuckled.
Barun asked carefully, “Then… what is Your Holiness’s view of this matter?”
“Hmm…” The Pope stroked his staff, then answered. “The greater the trial, the stronger a human becomes. And from among countless trials, heroes and saints are always born.”
“….”
“I see no wrongdoing on Inquisitor Cael’s part. Rather, he deserves praise. His methods are admittedly extreme, of course.” A faint smile touched the Pope’s lips. “So let us watch for now. Both Inquisitor Cael’s path and the magic-using sub-deacon. It is still too early to judge their good or evil.”
The other clergy nodded. Barun hid a smile, as though he had expected nothing less. The Pope had never been one to rush judgment or action.
“Then let us adjourn—”
Bang!
Just as the Pope began to rise, the chamber doors slammed open. A man rushed in and shouted, “Your Holiness! You must come at once!”
The clergy inside scowled.
“Brother, what is the meaning of this rudeness?”
“This is the Cardinals’ council chamber under His Holiness’s authority. Observe proper form.”
The Pope raised a hand to silence them. “It is fine. The meeting was already finished. And there must be reason enough for such haste.”
The clergy murmured. Unless a Demon God had descended, such disrespect was hard to comprehend.
“So what is it?”
“Ah—yes.” The man straightened his clothes and composed himself. “I am Marcell, caretaker of the Original Bible.”
The Original Bible—the first scripture recording the teachings of Goddess Ella. The Holy See transcribed it and distributed copies to the faithful.
“Yes, I remember you.”
“Th-then I am honored.”
“Has something happened to the Original Bible?”
“Yes.” Marcell nodded gravely. “For the first time since the record of Saint Eldoras one hundred and two years ago… a new chapter has begun to write itself in the Original Bible.”
The chamber erupted in whispers. Even the normally impassive Pope’s eyes went wide.
“And in that chapter…” Marcell drew a breath and continued, “the name Cael Luminara is recorded.”