A Victory That Left Nothing but Scars
You really are too much, Pythia-nim. With all those years of taking away bread and soup like that... was it simply not enough? Did you set your sights on stripping away an entire fortune by leading a child into this?
No, this old man...
I sharpened my gaze with double-edged intent, yet Pythia startled and hurriedly shushed, “Damien, Damien, Damien.”
Damien’s outstretched hand made me wonder if he had been about to summon some weapon like a monster-killing blade or something of the sort. Even if that were the case... did he intend to kill someone right here?
I stared hard at Damien. Suddenly he cleared his throat with a deliberate “hmm, hmm—” and whispered softly to me. “I was just trying to scare those bastards a little.”
Ah, I see. I thought he was some kind of psychopath. I couldn’t say anything about his Status showing a psychopathic S-rank assassin trait and advising him to always live with caution, so I simply nodded and turned my gaze back to the Demia temple head. After all, Damien was just a bit mischievous because he looked so incredibly handsome. He wasn’t actually bad. From what I saw earlier, he had cast every kind of court etiquette magic on me, rolled up his robes for Pythia, and chosen to stand there in the freezing cold without even an outer coat. That wasn’t bad at all. If he was a psychopath, then what kind of monster did that make me in this world?
Head Priest, there is a flaw in your words. First, Arian Danier is twelve years old. She will come of age in three years. I am no mere “child.” I am well aware of the ways of the world.
My words made the temple head’s eyes widen. I had thought he expected someone from a noble house, but apparently he assumed a fallen or collateral branch, not “Danier.”
An expression of “Surely it can’t be that Danier...” crossed his face. Why not? Of course it was. I smiled faintly and continued. “Second, you, Head Priest, know full well how greatly the reputation of this place has risen while you remain in the Grand Hall. For you are the only and unique ‘Saintess.’ Even the tithes alone that you receive based on that reputation far exceed the black bread and soup you have been given.”
The Grand Hall—said to be the very place where the gods clashed and descended? A mythically famous site versus a living legend standing right before one’s eyes. Which would draw more eyes from the people? Even the serfs could see a “princess” up close right in front of them. No matter how busy they were at other temples, they would at least sneak glances toward Gerka’s temple?
Of course they would never step foot inside. While they might be curious about the “princess” who could speak directly with gods, how many people would actually stand before her? The fear of death itself kept them at a distance. But looking from afar was a different story. If they could simply pass by while going to another temple, that would pose no problem. A head priest of this level should certainly know all of that.
“Third, I am truly curious. On days when you, Head Priest, hold an asura here in the Grand Hall, would all those present here remain safe? Truly, were the black bread and soup meant only for you, the Head Priest?”
I wanted to add, “Please mind your lips before you, for the bruised eyes in front of you belong to Damien Hamilcar,” but I held my tongue. After all, Damien might not want his true identity revealed. The temple head’s face flushed red with anger, yet he seemed unconcerned. I worried he might glare at Pythia, but the scare Damien had given earlier had apparently worked, for he did not turn his gaze that way. Instead, he glared straight at me. But it was useless. No matter how fearsome the head priest might be, it would only be David at most? My little brother is the champion of the jousting tournament. And of course I had grown up quarreling with my little brother. Brothers and sisters are like that, after all. David was a hot-blooded, cis-male medieval knight through and through. When his only sister tried to restrain him with crazy obsession, a fist was the only answer. So we fought quite often. Of course, that was after David had let me off. If the champion had fought me with real intent, I would be dead. (And that jousting champion himself would have earned himself an eternal curse for killing me. Would our father, who dotes on his youngest daughter, leave his inheritance to a killer? A total severance ending. In this world, severance is nothing like the modern concept. Here it would mean stripping a person naked and abandoning them in the middle of the desert. We had no choice but to keep each other in check for good reason.)
“I, Arian Danier, only daughter of Chamberlain Danier, humbly beseech the children of the gods with a sincere heart. The blood of a king flows in the Saintess’s veins. If anything were to happen to her, I cannot guarantee that anyone standing in the Grand Hall would remain safe. Therefore, I earnestly beg that you share your vast embrace of the Earth Goddess.”
“T-that...”
“And please apologize to our Head Priest. The novice priest under your care was a monster, and he threatened our Head Priest—the owner of the Grand Cathedral of Gerka. She is the cherished daughter of the Light of Truth and the pure soul connected to the gods. Although our noble Head Priest has decided not to pursue this matter, would it not be only right to begin with an apology?”
The temple head spat out a long-suffering “Hah—” and looked up at the ceiling. He bit his lip, struggling to contain his rising fury, and finally glanced at me once before turning his eyes to Pythia. “The Saintess simply sits there smiling... I do not know what kind of threat you have suffered, but... I understand one thing. The Chamberlain has indeed raised a rather bold young lady.”
“...”
“Very well, very well. It is regrettable that such an unfortunate event has befallen us at the Demia temple. To ease that regret, we shall share our rations. The black bread and soup—”
“You would pay the Saintess’s life with black bread and soup? The life of royalty would require mountains upon mountains of it, equal to the Mount of Light.”
“She is not dead!”
The Demia temple head roared in fury. If he had been a dragon, fire would have poured from his mouth. But I only smiled faintly. The defeated always shout the loudest just before declaring defeat—the last act of resistance. “Our Head Priest is not a bad man.”
The Demia temple head left with a “I must lie down.” Ah, old man. After losing a verbal sparring match, do you have to act so cowardly against a twelve-year-old and claim you need to lie down? I said nothing in response. But the kind-hearted Pythia gently stroked the senior priest’s arm. “Yes, indeed. You must be well aware.”
Well aware? They lived in such a lavish temple and yet only offered black bread and soup to Pythia, the Saintess and royal daughter? Then how could those people who boast about it be good-hearted at all? Hmph. Real ones, indeed. “This is our food storage.”
Phew. Here it is at last. Not some other place, but the food storage of the temple governed by the Goddess of Earth and Abundance. Ah, I felt my spirits lift, thinking there would be no more worries about provisions for a while. What should I start with today? Everyone worked so hard... I should prepare a feast that would break their legs...
The food storage was enormous, yet the moment we stepped inside, only two compartments near the entrance were in use, and the rest stood completely empty. What is this? It was too shocking for words. I turned my head back and saw that of those two compartments, one was piled high with black bread and the other neatly arranged with various ingredients. Not starvation bread... this was a starvation warehouse? I stared blankly before asking the senior priest, “This isn’t everything, is it?”
“It is. With this, we must hold out until autumn. Even though it is summer, the food situation is still not good...”
While I had been here, I had considered the possibility that the temple head might have moved the food storage elsewhere, but it seemed unlikely. The food inside was neatly arranged and could clearly be seen being treasured. Unlike the other compartments, these two had only grown slightly more worn. I turned to look at Pythia. She was smiling wryly. Only then did I finally understand why she had been so desperately craving even a single piece of black bread and a bowl of soup. She had known about these conditions. Still, we were few in number, and above all, I existed. In this world I was the mad genius obsessed with food and hygiene. That was why our temple remained clean and the food delicious. I was rare in possessing so many spices. But among the things here, spices were almost nonexistent. Seasonings to enhance the flavor were scarce, and most dishes relied on the main ingredients alone, with no room left to gather additional ones. “Even though the temple is this large and grand...”
I muttered in disbelief, and the senior priest smiled faintly. “This is a temple protected by many predecessors. We must keep it well so that it can be passed to future generations.”
A halo seemed to glow behind the senior priest’s head. These people were indeed priests. Ascetics, hermits... People like me from the secular world could not stand against their caliber. I backed out of the food storage with a slight step, as if the monsters feared holy power. Wait. Monsters feared holy power? That was right, I had definitely learned that. Yet why were the monsters themselves acting as priests and living inside the temple unharmed?