The Sun Has Fallen
The sun has fallen.
Even after it set, those who still crave the sun.
The most loyal servant of the sun.
Before a small bonfire, the six apostles gathered their last strength and swore a blood oath to await your return.
It was the birth of the Oathbound.
In the modest parlor, a man dressed in priestly robes knelt on the floor. For someone nearing fifty, his robust frame and the savage glint in Matthew’s eyes should have made him tremble. Yet he did not. That alone was worthy of praise.
“Please allow it.”
“Get lost.”
“I will cherish Victoria more than my own life.”
“More than your life… More than the moon goddess you serve?”
“…”
“Yes, Jensen. I know you’re not the sort to hurt Victoria. I know you’re a decent man. But here’s the thing… I don’t trust religious fanatics.”
“Dad! Please…!”
Victoria clung to him desperately. Matthew ignored her whispered accusation—“Dad, you’re a religious fanatic too”—and kept his gaze fixed on Jensen.
Jensen, lost in thought, slowly lifted his head.
“Is the problem that I’m a priest? Or that I serve Lady Luna?”
“Both.”
“I became a priest because I wanted to help the weak. The title, Lady Luna’s divine power—those are all secondary. I saw my father-in-law aiding the helpless. I received that help myself. Following his example was the best decision I could make.”
“A child who doesn’t know the world. Spare me the father-in-law nonsense.”
“…I will wait. Until you give permission.”
“Ah, so now I’m being driven out of my own house. Fine.”
Warm spring sunlight bathed the yard. The garden glowed green, and beyond it stretched the mountain path. Matthew sat on a half-chopped pile of firewood and waited.
A door slammed.
“This is exactly why people call you old-fashioned!”
His daughter stormed out, eyes brimming with tears.
“It’s that oath again, isn’t it? Oath my ass. To me it all looks like puberty syndrome.”
She stomped the ground hard enough to rattle the stones.
“Going on about being Oathbound, acting like assassins—isn’t that exactly the kind of edgy concept kids love?”
“Victoria!”
“What! It’s true, isn’t it? Seriously, it’s ridiculous.”
Her bright golden eyes—exact copies of her mother’s—blazed with defiance.
“Have any of us—you, me, Grandpa—ever actually seen the sun god? No! We haven’t. So why the hell have we been worshiping a god no one has seen for a thousand years? Was the secret cult aesthetic that thrilling? Fuck it—at least Luna actually grants us power!”
“That is blasphemy.”
“Oh~ A god that can’t even get angry when blasphemed? Fine, dear god! I just blasphemed you. Since you’re the sun god, are you going to burn me alive?”
Victoria spread her arms toward the sky. Matthew watched her and carved deeper furrows into his brow.
“The day will come when you understand.”
“Bullshit. I’m not living like you, Dad.”
The door slammed shut.
“And I’m not living like Mom either…”
The unfinished words slipped through the crack.
Matthew let out a heavy sigh and absently rubbed the ring on his left ring finger. Who would willingly become the servant of a forgotten god? Especially in the shabby guise of an assassin? It had all been inevitable.
Matthew had once been a rebellious youth just like Victoria. His own father had told him he would understand one day, and in the end he had. All he could do now was hope the same day would come for his daughter.
He drew a dagger with practiced speed and hurled it.
“Whoa, isn’t that a rather violent greeting?”
“What do you want, Lucas?”
“Looks like you’re also losing sleep over the successor problem. Though I have to say, aren’t you being too soft on Victoria? At this rate, even if she inherits your position, I doubt she’ll be able to carry out her duties…”
Thud. A second dagger whistled past the smiling man who had appeared between the trees and buried itself in the trunk beside him.
“Get to the point.”
“The Judgment bunch really do have the worst personalities. Unbelievable.”
A blond man named Lucas—his features caught somewhere between youth and middle age—clicked his tongue. Matthew’s face twisted at the sound.
Clang! The next dagger was stopped by an invisible barrier and clattered uselessly to the ground.
“See? Zero manners. You’re going to reap what you sow one of these days.”
“Shut up and speak.”
“What else would it be? An assassination request.”
Lucas flashed a grin.
“What other business would I have with Umbra’s greatest assassin?”
“I’m on sabbatical. Get lost.”
Matthew waved his hand as though the conversation itself annoyed him.
“Sabbatical?”
“My power isn’t functioning properly. While we’re on the subject, Lucas.” Matthew stared straight at him. “Was there anything unusual at the Grand Assembly?”
“Unusual?”
“The karma of the Judgment targets has grown impure.”
“…”
“There’s a strong chance the wrong targets were chosen. The power is most likely staying silent out of rage at the meaningless abuse.”
“…There was a small dispute.”
“Those damned pragmatists again? Bastards who only run their mouths from behind desks—!”
“My apologies.”
“Fine. I won’t attend the next assembly.”
Lucas’s eyes widened.
“You?”
“I need to teach those cowards what Judgment truly means.”
Lucas stared at him in open astonishment, then broke into a sly smile.
“Understood. I’ll inform the assembly of the return of Belcard the Judicator.”
“Let’s be realistic. Please, let’s try to be realistic.”
As always, the conference chamber had its loudmouth.
“I don’t enjoy saying these things either. But we aren’t running a charity, are we?”
“Leader only. Religion is not a business.”
“Apostle Lucas, you really are frustrating to listen to. What I’m saying is that an organization cannot survive on actions that yield no practical benefit.”
Six seats had been prepared for the Grand Assembly. Two for the apostles who upheld Umbra, and four for those newly following the sun god.
“If we were as well-established as the Luna cult, there would be no problem. But strictly speaking, we are heretics. Correct?”
“…Continue.”
“Therefore, for Umbra to survive while preserving its current faith, we must compromise with the times to a certain degree. These assassination requests are a means to that end.”
“…”
“We put on a mask. In doing so, we secure suitable profits. There is nothing wrong with forging ties to power. I’m certain the sun god will value our survival above all.”
There was no seat among the six for Apostle Belcard. Belcard could not reveal himself, did not meddle in trivial matters, and existed only as the goddess’s blade. Therefore he took his place within the darkness of the assembly.
“Finished babbling?”
“?!!”
The man who had been spitting in excitement jerked upright, startled.
“Why so surprised? It’s a face I’ve never seen, so I suppose you never heard about me.”
“Wh-who are you?”
The man leapt to his feet, eyes darting. Fear clung to his every movement.
“Ah, Belcard. My mistake. I forgot to inform them.”
At the sight of the grinning blond pretty-boy, Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. It had surely been deliberate.
“Belcard! Is it truly you?”
“You were running your mouth without fear. Corrupted by the secular world, daring to speak the goddess’s name and insult an apostle.”
“I-I never insulted—!”
“Do you think we are the same as you?”
Darkness descended upon the assembly hall. The faces of those seated hardened.
“A fool who doesn’t even understand the position of an apostle. Do you know? From the moment you dared raise your voice without fear, I already considered it an insult.”
“Wh-what are you—?”
“Exactly as that man said. Without resolve, without mission. Just some kid with a bad case of puberty syndrome. How did someone like you obtain a seat in this assembly? Why are you making this mess while claiming to serve Lord Solar? Why not go serve Luna instead? What, did the idea of a secret society simply look cool? I cannot tolerate the likes of you.”
A bone-chilling cold swept through the darkened chamber. Above the head of the man who had been talking, a vivid red brand burned itself into existence—the mark of a savage sun that bled flames. The brand writhed as though it would devour him, dripping tongues of fire.
“Farewell.”
The falling brand of death was brushed aside by an elderly man.
“Enough. Stop there.”
“…Leonhardt. Why interfere?”
“I acknowledge that execution is your authority. But can we not at least hear him out first?”
Radiant light poured from the old man at the center. The assembly hall brightened again as though the darkness had never been. The candles burned as steadily as before.
“Your personal feelings are excessive. Did Leader Only say anything incorrect?”
“Then you agree with those words?”
“Of course. We cannot remain shackled by tradition and rules forever.”
“Ah~. So we should accept commissions? Is that it? Like common mercenaries?”
“In exchange, we maintain an organization. Belcard, one must survive before one can do anything else.”
“Truly. Leonhardt, it seems old age has addled your mind.”
The old man called Leonhardt tapped the table lightly.
“Belcard, then answer me this. Even when our lives are threatened, do you still believe we must cling to tradition?”
“Absolutely.”
“No, no. That is the answer of someone who has never experienced the alternative.”
Leonhardt struck the bell that signaled the end of the meeting. The door opened and a man slightly too old to be a mere attendant handed him a cloak.
“Shylock, since Apostle Belcard is departing, today’s assembly ends here. Let us withdraw.”
“Has… Belcard come?”
“What are you playing at?”
The frail-looking man flinched at the voice that rolled out of the darkness.
Leonhardt glared into the shadows and continued.
“As it happens, Duke Grubel made an offer. It seems the Luna cult has located Belcard’s hiding place. If we cooperate, they will prevent the coming assault.”
Leonhardt smiled thinly.
“Since our Apostle Belcard refuses to compromise with the times, he would naturally reject the proposal, wouldn’t he? Therefore I took the liberty of conveying our refusal in advance. What are you waiting for? Go save your family.”
Behind the already vanished Matthew, the old snake’s mocking laughter echoed.