Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Judge Zekt 1
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“Tsk, your status is nothing to write home about, and you’re no beauty either. Cut the pathetic whining and just wait for your punishment.”
Bishop William said as much and raised his hand. A young acolyte standing nearby promptly placed a glass of wine in the bishop’s grasp. True to the bishop’s tastes, they were all young and strikingly handsome lads.
Bishop William of Salasma had a fondness for the young and beautiful. For that reason, even though he was more than qualified to serve as the church’s chief executive officer, he had ousted the capable Sir Gibek—who was in his thirties—and stuffed the executive positions with inexperienced but well-born pretty boys and girls of exceptional looks.
That was how Sir Gibek ended up suffering the indignity of being surpassed by his own disciple, Maya. And now, yet another incident capable of tarnishing the bishop’s reputation had cropped up, with Sir Gibek once more stuck cleaning up the mess...
From the bishop’s standpoint, it was just one more reason to despise Sir Gibek.
“You’d do well to ensure no idle gossip leaks out. If the count’s tangled up in black magic, it’s a blow to the King’s Church’s prestige, you see!”
“Understood, Your Excellency.”
Sir Gibek gave that reply, but the bishop’s words left him dizzy.
The count’s involvement in black magic was undeniable. Yet the bishop was framing it as a threat to the King’s Church’s dignity—and planning to bury the whole affair? Falsify it?
Burying and falsifying the incident wouldn’t fly. Commoners, servants, soldiers, knights—everyone would wonder, everyone would gossip...
Trying to stamp that out meant God knows what horrors would follow. Sir Gibek didn’t even want to imagine.
“Then, as for your punishment...”
Just then, the door to the bishop’s chambers flew open. In strode a knight clad in golden armor.
“Greetings, Your Excellency.”
“Eek?”
The bishop took one look and began trembling like an aspen leaf.
“Ah, Sir Gibek. You’re here too, I see. Word is you’ve had quite the mishap lately—one worthy of a Penitent Knight?”
The knight addressed Sir Gibek directly, bishop or no bishop.
“Yes, Sir Zekt.”
“Then serve as my squire and carry out your Penitent Knight duties.”
With that, Sir Zekt doffed his helmet. Those of strong Yaegas divine blood typically bore silver hair, but Sir Zekt’s locks were golden, with only a streak of silver in his bangs.
His narrow eyes—always squinted as if the world’s brilliance pained him, lending his face a perpetual smile—turned from Sir Gibek to the bishop and back.
“Will you grant my petition, Your Excellency?”
“Y-yes, of course! Who would dare refuse a Judge like Sir Zekt?”
Shaking like a leaf, the bishop nodded vigorously at Sir Gibek.
“Th-then let us withdraw.”
“I am honored.”
Sir Zekt flashed a smile as he stepped away from the bishop.
*********
Among the church’s Heresy Inquisitors, the Judges held exalted rank—only sixteen across the entire King’s Church.
Church doctrine held that Holy Knights refrained from politics or policy, devoting themselves solely to wielding force in service of the clergy’s directives. Yet the Judges, crowning the Inquisitors, could meddle in the King’s Church’s internal strife at will—under the banner of rooting out heretics or infiltrated cultists, of course.
With authority to investigate the organization itself, they formed the true nucleus of the Holy Knight Order’s power. For such a lofty figure as Sir Zekt to commend Sir Gibek’s labors...
“You’ve had it rough, tending to that fool, Sir Gibek.”
“Oh, no, not at all.”
Sir Gibek was overwhelmed with emotion. Sir Zekt remembered him. When he’d first joined the King’s Church, it was under Sir Zekt that he’d studied divine magic.
The King’s Church Holy Knights favored mastering a single, battle-ready divine spell intensively to ramp up their combat prowess in short order. Amid them, Sir Gibek had drawn notice for his profound grasp of divine magic.
His humble birth and feeble mana had been his undoing, though—earning him expulsion midway through training after a mere two weeks. And in those two weeks, Sir Zekt had committed his face and name to memory. How could Sir Gibek not be moved?
“But what brings you all the way here, sir?”
“I heard Salasma was gripped by drought and overrun with monsters, so I came to see for myself. Ran into something amusing en route, as well.”
“Pardon?”
As Sir Gibek stepped out of the church, his eyes fell on a cart. Corpses were heaped atop it.
“Sir Gazrek?”
There lay Sir Gazrek and his Squire Knights, reduced to corpses on the cart. Long dead by now, they reeked foully—but with Salasma steeped in stench, a few more rotting bodies hardly mattered.
“You know him? Quite the feat, spotting him amid that decay.”
“Ah, no—the sword and armor gave it away. Those are Sir Gazrek’s.”
“Indeed. His killer left the gear untouched. Holy Knight equipment might explain it...”
Flanking the cart stood Sir Zekt’s aides and soldiers. They had some peasants and children in custody—the sole survivors of a farm massacred by Sir Gazrek’s band.
“The original killers buried the Holy Knights without looting, but these fools got caught graverobbing. Interrogation turned up claims it was the Herald bloodline.”
“Pardon?”
“Emperor’s Heralds, that is. Emperor loyalists. New King slayers. Makes sense—they’d need that caliber to fell our church’s Holy Knights.”
“......”
A captive youth spat blood and bellowed.
“Bullshit! That Holy Knight bastard killed my father! Missed his shot hunting, slaughtered my family, then moved to wipe out the whole farm to cover it up!”
Sir Zekt regarded his aides with that smiling visage. One cracked a horsewhip across the youth’s lips.
“Shut your trap, filth!”
The lash split lips and flayed flesh.
“......”
Sir Gibek’s face stiffened. Chief Officer Lady Maya stood watching from across the way.
She rushed up in alarm, inspected the cart’s gruesome load, and dropped to her knees.
“Th-this...”
“And you are?”
“Ah! Forgive me, Sir Zekt. I’m...”
“She’s Lady Maya. Daughter of Sir Gazrek here.”
“Hm? His daughter? A Holy Knight’s child?”
Sir Zekt echoed the thought, then nodded.
“Well, stranger things have happened.”
The youth let out a scoff.
“That butcher’s spawn?!”
“Shut it!”
The aide reared back for another lash, but Sir Gibek blocked with his scabbard.
“People are watching. This won’t play well with the public.”
“But we can’t let him yap...”
“Gag him and haul him off.”
Sir Gibek glanced at Lady Maya’s face as he spoke. She stared in turmoil at her father’s mangled remains.
“Th-this... what do you mean, my father’s a butcher?”
“W-well...”
“Ah, share the investigation logs with her. She’ll want to know, being Sir Gazrek’s daughter.”
Sir Zekt directed his aides to hand over the records to Maya, then turned to Sir Gibek.
“Now then, Sir Gibek. I intend to sort out Salasma’s chaos. I’ll need your assistance.”
Lady Maya, overhearing, bowed low before Sir Zekt.
“Please. Let me serve at your side as well, Sir Zekt.”
A Chief Officer’s duty was safeguarding the bishopric. She might sally forth on investigations or act independently at the bishop’s whim, but her direct superior remained the bishop—his will was her law.
Yet the burning urge to uncover Sir Gazrek’s murder and exact vengeance propelled her. The report they’d shown her conveniently omitted civilian massacre testimonies.
Sir Zekt and his crew operated to bolster the Holy Knight Order’s clout. Scandals? Best swept under the rug.
“Hm. Tricky business.”
Sir Zekt smiled at her plea.
“Fair warning: we’re not hunting Sir Gazrek’s killer per se. Just probing Salasma’s troubles and countermeasures. And you—a Chief Officer—think you can tag along sans bishoply blessing?”
“I-I’m sorry. But I wish to follow you, Sir Zekt.”
“Hm. Very well. Sir Gibek.”
“Yes.”
“Transfer her temporarily per protocol. Knights are in short supply.”
“Temporarily? Or permanent?”
“That hinges on her wishes... and the bishop’s, naturally.”
Chief Officer posts were cushy, laden with perks. Trailing a Heresy Inquisitor—let alone Judge Zekt—was knightly glory, but deadliest of all.
Knights seldom abandoned such sinecures for Inquisitorial duty. Revenge-mad Maya, however, craved a full transfer.
“I’ll become a Heresy Inquisitor!”
“Splendid. Such zeal demands respect.”
Sir Zekt approved her transfer.
“Mind if I peruse those logs too?”
Sir Gibek borrowed the records from the aides.
“This is...”
Fabrication, plain as day. Sir Gazrek’s group, it claimed, had been resting at the farm when vile Heralds and Emperor loyalist peasants ambushed them.
The youth’s account rang true...
‘Even with this scene before her, Lady Maya buys these logs?’
Sir Gibek managed a wry smile.
He knew Sir Gazrek’s killer: Herald Azadin. If he’d struck at Holy Knights, the youth’s tale held water.
*********
“Ugh.”
Azadin’s eyes fluttered open in bed. Agony tore through him, as if his body were ripping apart.
“Aigoo, I’m a goner.”
His mouth opened, spilling groans unbidden. Muscle agony, bruises, concussion, internal bleeding to boot. No breaks was small mercy. Azadin craned his neck with effort, scanning his surroundings.
‘If the Emperor’s voice were here, I could’ve asked it to scout instead. What a pain. Got to rescind that resignation pronto and reclaim it...’
The Emperor’s voice’s absence gnawed at him as he took stock. Baroness Nort’s mansion.
“Urk. Ah, thirsty.”
He groped for the bedside water bowl—and knocked it flying. Simple motion, botched by crippling muscle pain.