When Going Out

The moment Mordin Skallen climbed into the carriage alone, he wiped the smile that had been plastered across his face.

Why is that bastard here?

Cael Luminara.

He already knew the boy had killed his watchers and returned home after the kidnapping. If Cael had slaughtered them and come out of it unscathed, then he was almost certainly the one who had burned Pleasure Village to the ground as well. Word was that Cael had spent about half a year wandering from place to place—and he seemed to have grown considerably stronger in that time.

That alone is a problem. But I never imagined the bastard would show up for the Heresy Inquisitor exam.

Cael was no devout follower of Ella. He had no reason to become an Inquisitor.

So why?

Don't tell me… to catch me?

If Cael had toppled Pleasure Village, he had almost certainly learned that Mordin was the one behind it. But that alone was not enough to take down a man with a sterling reputation among both the territory and the faithful. So Cael intended to become an Inquisitor and kill Mordin himself.

There's no other reason for him to take the exam. Leaving him be is far too dangerous.

Mordin drew a pendant and a small magic stone from inside his clothes. The pendant was engraved with two sprouting leaves—the symbol of the Church of Ella. The magic stone was a one-use means of communication.

He poured mana into it, and another man's voice answered.

"Yes, Apostle."

Mordin pressed the pendant and the stone to his forehead with both hands, as if in prayer.

"Cael, the eldest son of the Luminara family, has come to take the Heresy Inquisitor examination. Mobilize everyone you can deploy at once and kill him."

"…Are you certain, my lord? Even if the assassination succeeds, suspicion may fall on you afterward. And the Saintess of Truth will be present as well."

He was right. Few people knew the location of the exam.

"It's fine. I have this pendant. Beyond that, I can only trust the reputation I've built."

"I see."

"We must deal with him here, even if it means taking a risk. If that bastard truly becomes an Inquisitor, there's no telling what he might do."

If everything went according to plan, Mordin would be ordained to the rank of bishop, and his standing within the Evil Book Society would only grow more secure. The Luminara territory was the stepping stone for that ambition. He had climbed this far—he would not let a single boy named Cael ruin everything.

They must be killed. Without fail.

A memory flickered through Mordin's mind. He shook his head and spoke again.

"Be careful. He is no ordinary opponent."

"Is he that strong?"

"I haven't seen him fight myself, so I can't say. But the composure he shows makes me uneasy. I can't begin to guess what he's thinking."

"In other words, he's a madman."

"Yes. When you fight him, don't bother trying to understand him."

"Thank you for the warning. Stay safe, then."

The connection cut off.

Mordin tossed the spent magic stone out the window and looked up at the sky. His mind had just begun to settle when Cael's mouth suddenly rose in his memory—the shape of the words.

Smile, you bastard.

Mordin forced a grin, cold sweat sliding down his face ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as if he had just witnessed some never-before-seen creature.

"Madman…"

I rode the same carriage as my preassigned teammates toward the ruins. There were five of us in total. Aside from one of them, no one struck me as particularly suspicious at a glance.

"Hmm."

I stared openly at the woman sitting beside me. A plain hairpin stuck in brown hair. Round-faced, cute enough in a soft sort of way—and otherwise completely unremarkable.

That's exactly the problem.

Everyone else carried weapons or had the build of trained fighters. This woman had no weapon at all—only an enormous backpack. On a hunch I grabbed her forearm; sure enough, it was soft and untrained.

Her name was Bella, if I recalled correctly.

"Ah—that hurts…"

I folded my arms and asked her,

"What's your specialty?"

"Um…. Cleaning, cooking, singing?"

I couldn't help but be impressed.

"So you plan to clean the ruins? And if you get hungry, you'll just catch a monster living there and cook it up. When your teammates get sleepy, you can sing them a lullaby. How helpful."

"……"

"And what's with that bag? Are you a turtle? I've never seen a turtle this big."

Bella swallowed hard and forced the words out.

"I packed a little of everything, just in case…. You never know what might happen…."

"Can you even move properly with that thing?"

"My stamina and lower body are pretty good, though…."

Bella managed a strained glare in my direction.

For someone who says that, her legs don't look all that strong.

But even I wasn't about to start inspecting her lower body. I had come here to become an Inquisitor, not go home as a sexual harasser.

"Honestly, you don't seem cut out to be a Heresy Inquisitor. Why did you apply?"

"I wanted to help the orphanage that raised me…."

That left me with nothing to say.

"Hmm. I more or less get that feeling."

"What? Were you an orphan too?"

"I was, once."

The man sitting across from me cut in abruptly.

"From what I'm hearing, aren't you being rather rude to a lady?"

"Rude?"

"Yes. And more to the point—you're the only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one here who still hasn't given his name."

Myron was right. I was the only one who hadn't introduced himself.

"Fair enough. My name is Cael Luminara."

Myron tilted his head.

"Luminara? Do you mean the Luminara baronial house?"

"You know my family?"

"Of course. Food donations sometimes arrive at the monastery under the Luminara name…."

So Father was even donating to monasteries.

Tsk. No wonder the family stayed broke even in years of good harvest. Scriben had better do his job well.

"Hold on—didn't you just say you were an orphan?"

"I was, once."

"Ah, then are you an adopted son?"

"No. I'm their blood son."

"……?"

Myron blinked stupidly. The others wore much the same expression.

"Don't sweat the small stuff."

"That… doesn't sound like small stuff to me…."

Myron thought for a moment, then looked at me again.

"Could you be the heretic in this group?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I've heard the Luminara family are devout followers of Ella. But looking at the way you speak and act, you don't seem like one of them at all. Did you invent some remote house as a cover to hide the fact that you're a heretic?"

"Oh?"

I looked at Myron with genuine interest.

"So it's fine to come at me that hard, but being rude to a lady is off-limits?"

"I was only making a reasonable suspicion."

"So was I. Martial strength is a basic requirement for a Heresy Inquisitor, yet this one has no weapon and looks weak. Is that suspicion so strange?"

"I meant the way you went about it was rude. Couldn't you have been a little kinder?"

"Kinder, huh…."

A dry laugh slipped out of me.

"Fine. I'll admit my manner was a bit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rough. On an ordinary day I might have conceded the point and moved on. But aren't you misunderstanding something?"

"What, exactly?"

I spoke coldly.

"We are not on a picnic. We are going to be tested on whether we are fit to become Heresy Inquisitors. So what we need to show is not the quality of a nice person—it's the quality of an Inquisitor."

I pointed at Myron.

"Would you still observe etiquette with a heretic? Keep dithering ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like that and you can set the table for your own funeral."

"……"

"Demons and the wicked are always looking for a chance to deceive and trip people up. So whenever a stranger approaches, you must always stay wary and suspicious."

Myron narrowed his eyes.

"I understand what you mean, but aren't you being far too cold?"

"Being cold beats being dead. Death is like a sudden gale—you never know when, where, or how it will hit. Kindness can wait until after you've seen through the wind's true intent."

Myron furrowed his brow.

"You talk as if you've lived with death at your side. You don't look all that old."

I laughed under my breath.

"You're not cut out to be an Inquisitor. You're so tangled up in your pride you can't even manage a proper insight."

"……"

"If you happen to be the heretic on this mission, you're doing an excellent job of it."

Myron stared at me for a long moment, then sighed.

"I understand your attitude. But this mission isn't only about finding a heretic. We also have to recover a relic with our teammates."

"And?"

"So before we start suspecting one another, we need to cooperate—"

I raised a hand and cut him off.

"Shut up for a second."

I scanned our surroundings. The carriage had already entered the forest.

Myron took issue with my behavior.

"Even so, this is too much. If you're truly not a heretic—"

I deliberately roared at him.

"I said shut up!!!"

The shout made the others jump. Myron sat with his mouth open, stunned blank. At least I had the silence I wanted. I stepped down from the slowly stopping carriage.

The coachman asked me,

"Is something wrong? That sudden shout…"

"Quiet for a moment. Stay with the carriage."

I drew my sword and stood still in the middle of the forest, then drew a deep breath.

The smell of blood.

Monster blood?

They hadn't told us the exact location of the ruins, so we might already have entered the exam grounds.

But something's different.

Cleaner and softer than the sticky reek of monster blood—and for that reason, far more foul.

This is human blood.

Someone had been badly wounded, or a killing had taken place—enough that I could smell it from this distance. That made it hard to believe the teammates had simply turned on one another.

I need a clearer picture of the situation.

I closed my eyes and circulated holy power. Through the stage of Joy, I could send out wind—and if I loaded that wind with holy power, I could sense presence.

Before long, that holy power brushed against human presence.

One, two, three….

About twenty of them, closing in from all sides. And a few among them are fairly strong.

I opened my eyes and spoke to the teammates who had climbed down from the carriage.

"Prepare for an ambush. We're surrounded."

Myron drew his sword on reflex and asked,

"Surrounded? By whom?"

"By people who came to kill us, I'd imagine."

At that moment, figures in black hoods and dark clothes dropped into a circle around us. One of them, seeing us already armed and ready, asked,

"So you knew we were coming?"

"Of course. Didn't your master tell you?"

"……"

I waited for an answer, but he closed his mouth on that. Behind me, Bella shrank back.

"This isn't part of the exam, or another team, is it…?"

The killing intent was thick. These were people who lived with death and darkness at their sides. Baron Skallen had almost certainly ordered them to kill me. I hadn't expected him to actually make a move with the Saintess of Truth present.

In the end, he played a bad hand. Thanks to that, I can catch him sooner than planned.

I told my teammates,

"Put your backs to the carriage and focus only on defense. I'll handle the rest."

Myron swallowed hard.

"Is that even possible?"

I looked over the enemies. They were stronger than the ones I'd met at Pleasure Village. One of them alone could probably wipe out the rest of my team. Looking at their sticky killing intent, I almost laughed.

"It is. I've ridden out this much of a gale more times than I can count."

"What do you mean by—"

I glanced up at the sky. Sunlight poured down from a clear blue expanse, so I raised a palm to my forehead.

"The weather's fine today. But it feels like a gust is coming, so you'd do well to be careful when going out. Don't you think?"

My nonsense left teammates and enemies alike more than a little bewildered. But in my eyes, their faces no longer registered—only their vital points.

Shiiing!

A keen wind coiled around the blade. Was this a breeze, a tailwind, or a gale? I couldn't say for certain—but to the enemy, it would look like a typhoon.

They faltered. A few of them grew very still, eyes darkening. While they hesitated, I kicked off the ground first and charged. I slipped into the air like the wind itself.

Slash!

I swung and took one man's head, then landed lightly in the middle of their pack. That alone was enough to break their encirclement. They hadn't expected my strength; their eyes went wide.

But neither they nor I had anywhere left to retreat.

"Kill him!"

Most of them rushed me at once. I rose like a single butterfly and swept my sword.

Before long, the sky was staining itself with blood.