The Night Sky Worth Protecting
I'm glad too.
"…If I answer, will you spare me?"
In my previous life I killed every last person who stood in my way. By the standards I held back then they deserved to die, yet looking back now I can no longer be certain that was truly the case. So before I cut this one's throat with my sword I was sorting my thoughts, gathering information while I was at it.
"That's what I'm about to decide. Who ordered you to kidnap me?"
I already knew, but confirmation was necessary.
The man hesitated a moment before answering.
"…Baron Scalen. He's stationed not far from your Luminara family, so you should know the name."
"I see."
So nothing had changed from the previous life after all.
"You don't seem particularly surprised. Baron Scalen has a good reputation on the surface—you'd think that would startle someone. Or did you already have a rough idea?"
Just as he said, Baron Scalen enjoyed a solid public reputation. He donated generously to the temple and looked after his own people well enough.
"Shut up. I'm the only one asking questions."
"……."
"Answer."
"Understood."
I nodded in satisfaction and continued.
"Is Baron Scalen planning to strike our family a month from now?"
"Most likely. The original plan was to kidnap you, draw the family's attention outward, and hit them while they were distracted."
"I see."
"But once he learns you've escaped, he might accelerate the timetable for fear the scheme will leak."
That was entirely possible. Baron Scalen was cautious, yet more daring than most gave him credit for.
"Why is Baron Scalen targeting our family?"
"That much I don't know. I merely took the commission."
He watched my expression carefully before adding,
"But I suspect he's after your family's territory."
"Our territory?"
"Move in secret, destroy Luminara Territory, then use his fine reputation as a pretext to 'rescue' it and take formal possession. There's no other reason he would bother targeting your house."
At this point it almost seemed the man knew everything. Still, with enough information one could deduce as much, so I paid it little mind.
"You're clever."
"Th-thank you."
When I fell silent afterward, he spoke first.
"If things continue like this, stopping Baron Scalen will be difficult. He won't move openly, so solid evidence will be scarce. Use me as a witness."
"You?"
"Yes. That would give the Holy Empire's Inquisitors a legitimate pretext. Even if they can't pin anything solid on him, they can at least delay his plans."
"That could work as well."
A strange light of hope flickered in his eyes.
Ah, right.
Something I had forgotten suddenly resurfaced, and I rummaged through my clothes. Nothing but the liquor bottle.
"What did you do with my letter?"
The reason I had abruptly abandoned my wanderings through the Holy Empire and returned home was a letter written by my younger sibling.
He flinched, then silently flicked his gaze toward the collapsed campfire.
"…I see."
I rose from the chair.
"What's your specialty?"
"Specialty?"
"Yes."
"As you saw earlier, I know how to use a sword. And…"
"And?"
"I'm good at roasting sweet potatoes."
"That much is true."
I nodded and looked down at him.
"Right. So you meant to feed me nothing but sweet potatoes until I choked to death."
"What?"
"And when I asked for water you'd draw your sword and take my head. An eye for an eye, a sweet potato for a sweet potato—something like that?"
"……."
"Am I wrong? Answer me."
The faint color that had returned to his face drained away in an instant. Having read my intent, he hung his head in resignation.
"…Just kill me."
"Of course I will."
I yanked the longsword free from the ground and drew a horizontal line. His head leapt free in a spray of blood. Thus the world lost one more master of the sweet potato.
"Now who's going to roast them for me?"
I flicked the blood from the blade with a touch of genuine regret.
Seriously, why burn someone else's letter?
I hadn't killed him solely for the letter. Anyone who spilled his employer's secrets this readily was the type to betray again. Moreover, with his tendons severed he might have nursed a grudge and run straight to Baron Scalen.
"Letter, are you still alive…?"
I prodded through the campfire. All I found were flames and ash. Clicking my tongue, I stirred the embers. Sparks leapt skyward like fireflies. I followed them upward without thinking and found myself staring at the night.
Countless stars scattered across the dark. A round moon peeping over the horizon.
"Oh…"
It was, I realized anew, a beautiful sight.
After becoming the Sword Demon I rarely looked at the sky. It had been red with blood, and I always felt the people I had killed were watching me from above.
"Hmm…"
After a staring contest with the moon, the thought suddenly struck me that I wanted to protect this night sky. In my previous life I had possessed no particular goal. I had simply walked because I could not die, until I fought the Demon God that blocked my path. Yet for some reason I no longer wanted to let other bastards defile this night sky.
— Sword Demon, can you win?
The question Ludian had left me at the edge of death. The Demon God had been strong—endless demonic energy, and any wound my sword inflicted regenerated almost instantly. I now possessed holy power as a new means of attack, yet even so my previous life's peak would not be enough. To fell the Demon God I would have to become stronger than I had ever been.
Well… I'll give it a try.
I gazed at the night sky a while longer, then drained the last of the liquor from the bottle. It was time to return home.
The study of Baron Luminara.
Benedict Luminara, head of the house and lord of the barony, pressed his throbbing temples.
"Ugh… Bad news keeps piling up."
The territory had been in poor shape of late. Luminara Territory was unusually large for a barony, allowing the cultivation of vast quantities of crops. Even with Benedict's less-than-stellar administrative talents, he had always managed to keep his people fed.
But half a year ago a blight spread and crop yields plummeted.
And that was not all. Rumors claimed that dens of greed and lust—establishments that had no place in land devoted to Ella—were springing up across the territory. The land was simply too wide for the available manpower; proper oversight grew harder by the day.
And on top of everything, my eldest son is off wandering the world…
Nearly half a year had passed since Cael left on pilgrimage. Benedict would have been overjoyed if the boy had truly gone to deepen his faith, yet he now knew, more or less, that the pilgrimage was merely an excuse for running away from home.
Cael never could stand being confined by any framework.
Born into a devout Ellaist family, the boy must have felt stifled; Benedict understood that much. Still, he wished the boy would come home now.
Goddess Ella, I pray You bring my son Cael safely back to us.
Benedict clasped his hands and prayed. When the boy returned he would no longer force faith upon him. He asked only that Cael not stray too far.
Knock-knock—
"My lord, it is Cedric."
"Enter."
The head butler opened the door and Benedict asked,
"What is it?"
"Young Master Cael, who left on pilgrimage, has returned to the family."
Benedict's eyes flew wide and he shot to his feet.
"Is that true?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Where is he now?"
"Well…"
"Well?"
The butler hesitated before answering.
"He is at the church."
"The church?"
"Yes…"
The church? Had the boy truly spent his time in faithful pilgrimage rather than mere truancy?
"I-I cannot believe it. I must see with my own eyes."
"Yes, my lord. I shall escort you."
Following the butler, they arrived at the small church within the village. Benedict swallowed dryly, then stepped inside. Many people were gazing toward the statue of the goddess. The moment Benedict pushed through the crowd—
"Ah…"
He collapsed onto the floor, stunned by the sight before him.
Sunlight poured through the window. Beneath it stood a young man, hands quietly folded. The same delinquent who had forever plagued Benedict… the free bird who had fled the family, choking under doctrine… was of his own accord offering prayer before the statue of Goddess Ella.
Gulp—
Benedict swallowed as though trapped in a dream.
"A g-ghost…?"
There are many ways for a Holy Knight to increase holy power. Praying to Goddess Ella, offering up slain demons, receiving the worship of others… Silence and fasting for set periods can also fill one with holy power, though they are hardly efficient. Impossible for someone of my temperament in any case.
Which is why the most basic method is prayer.
It yields only a small amount of holy power, yet performing it whenever opportunity allows is worthwhile. That was the reason I stood offering prayer to the goddess now.
Goddess Ella, stop dodging and come down here a minute. Let's talk. You at least owe me an explanation of what the hell is going on, don't you?
Any devout Ellaist overhearing would have fainted, but this was silent prayer—only the goddess could hear it.
Rustle—
Yet, astonishingly, holy power was slowly filling me. Prayer's true purpose was "conversation" with the goddess, after all. It did not matter what I said, so long as I prayed.
Still, more holy power is coming in than I expected.
Probably because this was the first time I had prayed of my own free will. Even the goddess must have been moved by my changed attitude.
Come to think of it, I'm the only one talking. Is this really a conversation? Hey, Goddess Ella. How about answering?
No reply came. Perhaps she was shy, or simply unable to speak. In any case the inflow of holy power was beginning to taper, so I ended the prayer. The longer one prayed, the lower the efficiency.
This method should work for increasing holy power. No need to worry about growth, then.
The reason I, the Sword Demon, knew these techniques was simple: Holy Knights had chased me for so long that I inevitably picked up a few things.
Chased by women when I was young, chased by Holy Knights when I grew up…
The common thread was that I had always been the one running away. Being hunted defined my life.
"M-my lord, are you all right?"
"Y-yes…"
When I opened my eyes, a commotion rose behind me.
"Is the eldest young master really praying to the goddess right now?"
"Maybe he's about to head-butt the statue? Remember last time when he wanted to see who would win…"
"Shhh! He'll hear you!"
I turned, raised a hand, and smiled at the villagers.
"That's right. It's me. The delinquent eldest son has returned as a devout follower of Ella. How about a round of applause?"
"……."
No one clapped. The villagers simply stared in open bewilderment. Only one little girl started clapping until her mother hastily stopped her.
"Cael?"
Someone called my name—a voice I had somehow forgotten.
"Is that truly you, Cael?"
A middle-aged man with streaks of white in his hair. Though lean, he stood straight with solid muscle; the overall impression was solemn and upright. Yet the emotion in the eyes that looked at me could not be hidden.
"It's been a while."
I smiled faintly at him.
"Father."
Benedict Luminara. A face I had somehow allowed myself to forget now stood before me.
Father smiled and stepped closer.
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
"No, Father. And you? Nothing amiss with your health?"
When I genuinely looked him over, Father seemed momentarily overcome before answering.
"Of course not."
Aside from looking tired he appeared fine. No visible wounds.
"And Mother and Aren?"
"They stepped out briefly. If we wait at the manor you will see them."
"I see."
Father glanced between me and the goddess statue, then asked,
"So… just now, were you praying to the goddess?"
"Yes."
"Of your own accord?"
"Naturally."
"Haha…"
Father laughed with open joy.
"The goddess must have been delighted by your prayer. This is the first time you have worshipped Her of your own will."
"I think so as well."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Hahaha."
"Hahahaha."
After laughing, Father composed his expression and asked,
"Then will you attend every service from now on?"
"That might be a bit…"
"Mm."
Father nodded as though he understood.
"Very well. I will no longer force the matter. Proceed at whatever pace you wish."
I was genuinely surprised by the change in his attitude.
"Oh. Your kindness seems to have grown along with the white in your hair."
"……?"
"I'll help you until every black hair turns snow-white."
"…Cael."
"Yes, Father."
"Today is a happy day."
"I'm happy as well, Father."
Father looked at me, then heaved a long sigh.
"By the way, what suddenly changed your mind? Did something happen during the pilgrimage?"
"Hmm…"
I folded my arms and considered the question carefully. The fall of the family, the collapse of the Holy Empire, the extinction of humanity at the Demon God's hands—I could not speak of any of it, so I merely nodded.
"A great many things happened."
"…I see."
Father smiled quietly and turned.
"In any case, let us return to the manor. We have more than enough time to catch up at leisure."
"Yes. I think so too."
And so, after a long absence, I walked home beside my father. It was time to set the next plan in motion.