Am I Your Friend?
When I stepped outside, Bella was waiting and greeted me at once.
"Inquisitor, you're unharmed!"
"Of course I am."
Bella eyed the things in my hands.
"But what are those?"
"Spoils."
I set the chest down for a moment, pulled out a pouch of silver coins from inside, and handed it to her.
"This is your bonus. Donate it to your orphanage—but spend a reasonable share on yourself, too."
An Inquisitor received three gold coins a month from the Holy See. It wasn't a small sum by ordinary standards, but for the price of a life it was pitifully little. No one became a cleric to get rich in the first place.
Except me.
Which was exactly why it mattered to claim one's own cut. The Holy See recognized a portion of a heretic's spoils as operational funds for an Inquisitor. They didn't pay only three gold a month for nothing.
"Thank you, Inquisitor!"
"Mm."
I pointed at the building.
"You've got your bonus. Now get to work. Burn that place down."
Debt contracts for countless people—and the lingering grudges of the dead—still clung to those walls. Fire was the cleanest way to settle the account.
"Yes, sir!"
Bella set her massive backpack on the ground, drew a slow breath, and stretched both hands toward the building.
A vast surge of mana rose from her. Even after spending so much on the hymn earlier, she still had some left to spare.
"Hyaaah!"
With her shout, flames erupted in a relentless torrent. The fire swallowed the loan shark's building whole and soon roared into a great blaze, consuming everything.
"Haa…"
Bella only steadied her ragged breathing; she didn't collapse the way she used to. Her control still wasn't precise, but she could meter her mana well enough not to empty herself dry.
"At that rate, you could probably manage a proper song for a short while."
"Ah, about that…"
Bella scratched her head sheepishly.
"I thought so too, but when I focus on singing, regulating the mana gets really hard…"
"In other words, like drawing a circle and a triangle at the same time."
"Yes. Though it's a lot harder than that."
It might not have been purely a matter of control. Her body simply hadn't finished growing. Bella possessed an absurd volume of mana for her age, but the vessel that should have contained it was still incomplete—so when she sang, the power spilled out on its own.
"Well, trials always walk the path of faith. Keep refining yourself."
"Yes, sir!"
Bella nodded once, then asked,
"Inquisitor, may I sing a song? I think it'd be fine right now."
"In the mood to sing this time?"
"Yes."
She had just burned through a considerable amount of mana; the chance of it bursting out through her vocal cords was low.
"Fine. Let the heretics hear a demon's howl, and the people an angel's whisper."
"That's a compliment, right?"
"Depends on the occasion."
"Hmm. I see."
Bella cleared her throat.
"If I sing well, praise me."
"I'll give it serious consideration."
"Heh. I'll make sure you don't even need to."
I found Bella genuinely strange. No matter how brilliant her talent, she must have heard hundreds of times that she couldn't sing—and yet she brimmed with confidence. What on earth was that unshakable faith of hers made of? Perhaps some other god, besides the Goddess, lived inside her and whispered: Don't listen to anyone else. Believe in yourself.
Either way, it was beyond me.
Ah—
A voice like a cool spring breeze rolled out across the slums. Sunlight poured over her head, and for a moment she looked almost sacred—pure and clear.
"……"
People were already gathering, drawn by the towering flames. But now they stared not at the fire, but at Bella, dazed. She sang like a single shaft of light, and a faint spark of life returned to eyes that had been dying.
The Witch of Jealousy, who had once sung only of her own misery, now wished peace upon others.
Hmm?
While I listened, I spotted someone in the crowd. I picked up the shoes I'd set atop the chest and started walking. I said nothing, yet the people parted to let me through—and none of them looked particularly afraid.
I stopped in front of Rak.
"Your sister—is she all right?"
"Yes…. Thanks to you."
"Good."
I dropped to one knee so our eyes met, then set the shoes at his feet.
"Put these on."
"Huh?"
"We'll trade for your sandals. They'll be a bit big, but they've got straps—better than what you've got."
"Ah…. Okay."
Rak held out his worn sandals.
"But they're dirty…"
"It's fine. They were dirty to begin with."
The holy relic was old, but it almost never tore. A weed-like vitality clung to it. I kicked off my own shoes and stepped into the sandals.
Ahh…. That steadying feel.
Saint Bertior's Sandals—a holy relic that healed the body's fatigue with every step. I wouldn't tire on pilgrimage anymore. They would help in prolonged combat, too.
I asked Rak, now in the new shoes,
"Can you walk in them?"
"Yes. They're warm."
"Good."
Bella's song still drifted through the air. I fixed my eyes on Rak and asked,
"Do you want to live like a person?"
"What?"
"I mean work, earn money, and live the way ordinary people do. I can help with that much. Your sister included, of course."
"Ah…"
Rak asked carefully,
"I'm grateful for the offer, but… why go this far for us…?"
He had a point. Among all the people in the world, there was no special reason to choose this pair of siblings. I wasn't even obligated to help anyone.
But…
"Because I figure I can carry the two of you at least."
Maybe Saint Bertior's soul had brushed through me for a moment by way of the relic. Of course it hadn't, and no darkness of mine would be wiped clean by it—but I simply wanted to. In my past life I had owed those sandals a debt of grace. Now I would repay it by showing someone a little charity.
"What do you mean…"
"Enough. Just answer. Will you stay here and keep falling into debt to whoever comes next—or will you earn honest money and buy your own cold medicine?"
Rak hung his head. Then, without a word, he gave a small nod.
In the previous timeline, Rak had died with his ankles cut off by Mordak. After that, his little sister Lami, left without care, would have wasted away from a cold. This time, they were simply beasts that should have vanished already—cut down by my sword instead.
Suddenly, holy power crashed into me.
I hadn't prayed. I hadn't offered up a demon. It came out of nowhere. Had someone looked on me with reverence? No—the amount wasn't nearly that large.
Then what?
Ludian's words rose unbidden in my mind.
— The scriptures speak of seven virtues. The more a Holy Knight practices them, the stronger he becomes.
Could it be because I had shown Rak charity? Was that why the Goddess had granted me holy power?
That has to be it.
So to grow stronger quickly, I needed to practice the seven virtues—the Seven Great Goods?
Hmm…
Forcing myself into it held little appeal. Without sincerity, the Goddess wouldn't hand over holy power anyway.
Whatever. I'll just keep doing as I have.
As if on cue, Bella's song ended. A brief silence fell—then the crowd, as if entranced, broke into applause.
"Haha, thank you!"
Bella bowed again and again. After a performance like that, even she must finally have grasped her own skill.
"Inquisitor!"
She waved both arms at me.
"How was I?"
I had already spent every scrap of light I had for the day. There wasn't a shred of praise left to give her. So I looked at Bella for a moment—then turned and walked away without a word.
"Hey! Come on!"
Bella snatched up her backpack and the coin chest and scrambled after me.
We hired a carriage and set out for the Luminara Territory. It wasn't far from the Rustben lands—a day was enough.
When we were nearly at the manor, Lami finally spoke, fidgeting.
"Um, Inquisitor…"
"Speak."
"Th-thank you for saving us. I'll only eat a little."
Her condition had improved that morning; this was the first real conversation we'd had. I snorted and propped my chin on my hand.
"Eat as much as you want. That tiny mouth of yours couldn't put away much even if you tried."
"But still…"
"Enough. From now on, call me Young Master."
"Ah—yes, Young Master."
Just then the carriage Bella was driving came to a stop, and I stepped down. Word of my arrival must have already reached them; the household was waiting at the front gate.
"Father."
I showed off my priest's vestments with a flourish.
"The family wastrel has returned as a proud Inquisitor."
"……"
Father stared at me for a long moment, then heaved a deep sigh.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
"I think I took a blow to the head. My mind keeps drifting…"
"So you're fine, then."
"Yes."
Father glanced around me and spoke again.
"You've hauled another load of baggage home with you."
I pointed to Bella at my side.
"My sub-deacon. Her singing is something else."
"Hello! I'm Bella, the sub-deacon!"
Bella bowed at the waist. Mother stepped closer, admiring her.
"My, what a lovely girl."
"Hehe, Baroness, you're beautiful too. Now I understand where the Inquisitor gets his looks."
"Hoho, thank you. Though I do wonder who he inherited his inner self from…"
"Hahaha!"
Bella burst out laughing, and I shot her a glare.
"Something funny?"
"Ah—I'm sorry."
I nodded.
"I am funny."
"……?"
Puzzled looks landed on me from every side. I ignored them and kept introducing people.
"These two I picked up in the slums—Rak and Lami. Please take them on as servants."
"Ah… hello…"
The children offered a timid greeting, looking half terrified.
The steward, Cedric, looked them over and said,
"You'll need a meal first. Proper service begins with presenting oneself without shame before one's master. Both of you, come with me."
The children looked up at me in confusion. I jerked my chin toward Cedric as he headed for the manor.
"Go with him. Learn how to work—and how to live."
"Yes…. Young Master."
They nodded and hurried after Cedric.
Father watched them for a moment, then turned his gaze back to me.
"Cael."
"Yes, Father."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"You did well."
The praise came so suddenly that I blinked.
"Pardon?"
"To be honest, I was deeply worried when you said you were going to become an Inquisitor. With your temperament, there was no telling what might happen."
Father clasped his hands behind his back and went on.
"But after hearing about you from Cardinal Barun—and seeing you now—I no longer think I need to worry. You're fulfilling your role well."
His reaction felt oddly foreign. Ever since I'd grown a head of my own, Father had done nothing but scold me—grow up already, stop acting the wastrel, find your own path…. I had braced myself for another lecture on the way home. This was strange.
Is he ill?
His eyes and posture said otherwise. In any case, it was good news for me, so I let it go and asked,
"More importantly—what became of the Skallen territory?"
"Once our own territory's problems are settled, we've agreed to take over the Skallen lands."
"I see."
We wouldn't remain a mere baronial house then. A lord holding two large territories…
Aren spoke up.
"Brother."
"What."
"I'm glad you came back safely."
I gave a short laugh.
"I'll drop by whenever I can."
"Yes. I'll be waiting."
Aren smiled softly.
Father, who had been listening, spoke.
"We'll discuss the details later. For now, let's go inside."
"Yes. Bella—set the coin chest down and come back."
"Yes, sir!"
Bella and the household followed Father into the manor. In the space they left behind, a man was revealed.
"Still alive, are you?"
Scriben pushed up his glasses at my question.
"It is I, Scriben, Young Master."
"Looks like you made yourself useful to Father while I was gone. I'll let you live another month."
"I am grateful for your mercy…"
Scriben observed the proper formalities, then added,
"Young Master, there is something I must report."
"What."
He stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"Frankly, the territory's finances are not in good shape."
"Why? I brought money."
"It isn't a sum that will solve this. Many fields lay fallow last year, and this time the plague Baron Skallen spread has left the harvest far below what it used to be."
I scowled.
"That bastard again?"
"Yes. That bastard again."
"Hah. And I can't even beat the dead one in hell."
"Indeed, sir."
"Want to go beat him for me?"
"Pardon?"
"I'm joking."
"…Yes."
Scriben adjusted his glasses.
"In any case, the lord seems aware of it. Even the small donations he used to make regularly have stopped since last year."
"So we prepared for fallow land and still ended up here."
"Raising the people's taxes would fix things in the short term, but the lord would never approve."
"Of course not. I don't like that approach either."
The whole point of collecting money was to make the territory prosper. If the people were miserable, it defeated the purpose.
"So then, Financial Officer Scriben."
"Yes."
"You have a solution, I assume?"
The corner of Scriben's mouth curled slightly.
"Of course, Young Master."
"Excellent. Put a blade to your neck and that brain of yours starts working for its life."
"You flatter me."
"Then explain the method."
"Yes."
Scriben said,
"First, Baron Skallen's assets—aside from a certain amount set aside for territorial administration—will go to the Holy See. Cardinal Barun said he would use that to persuade them."
"And?"
"But there is something they don't know. Do you really think that man left every last coin in his own warehouses?"
"Of course not. Bastards like him always bury the tastiest bone somewhere underground."
Scriben nodded.
"Exactly. Baron Skallen entrusted his wealth to another organization."
"Where?"
"I don't know the precise location myself. However…"
Just then—
"Is the Baron of Luminara here? We need a word with him."
Two men with an unsavory air appeared at the front gate and called out.
I asked Scriben,
"Who are those rude bastards?"
"Ah—they've saved us the trouble of finding them. They must be from the Darkblood Gang I mentioned roughly before. Assassination, prostitution, peddling drugs—every crime under the sun. They're the ones who supplied prostitutes to Pleasure Village and elsewhere."
I had heard the name Darkblood Gang a few times in my previous life as well.
"I see. So if we follow them, we can get our hands on Baron Skallen's fortune too."
"As expected of the Young Master."
"Convenient of them to show up. Time to collect the price for wrecking another territory's harvest."
While I watched them, one of the men muttered in my direction,
"Hey there, priest. Don't just stand there—fetch the Baron of Luminara for us."
I narrowed my eyes and shifted my vocal cords. What came out of my mouth was none other than Father's voice.
"Hey there? Am I your friend?"
"What?"
I cleared my throat and clasped my hands behind my back, then kindly introduced myself.
"I am the Baron of Luminara. What business do you have with me?"
Well then. Shall we go collect some money?