Divinity

Along the quiet cloister of the Temple, a middle-aged man sighed heavily. It was Rupert, the current Commander of the Holy Knights.

"Good grief... Just what on earth is that boy doing wandering around out there?"

At Rupert's stifled lament, the man beside him asked in a nonchalant tone, "Is something the matter?"

"I'm worried there might be. Not that I'm whining for your attention, busy Pope-nim."

"Hmm. Even if you asked, there isn't much I could do anyway."

"I suppose not."

The two spoke as if utterly oblivious to differences in status. In truth, their bond ran deep enough that dropping all honorifics felt completely natural.

"If he was going to storm out of the Temple, he should have lived quietly," Rupert grumbled. "Yet not only is that Court Count Arwell involved, even someone from the Luminel family is poking around Harte."

"What on earth did he do?"

"I don't know. The fact that he doesn't seem to have done anything at all worries me even more. Couldn't you just ask the Main God about it?"

"You still think the Main God is some neighborhood schoolteacher, don't you?"

"Tsk."

Rupert clicked his tongue bitterly. He really should have held Harte back by any means necessary when the boy insisted on leaving the Temple.

No, I just don't understand it in the first place...

Out of nowhere, Harte had plunged his head into a pond, and from that single moment, he had become an entirely different person. At first, Rupert had genuinely wondered if he was possessed by an evil spirit. Of course, such a thing was fundamentally impossible, so he had ruled it out immediately.

"You seem anxious."

"Of course I'm anxious! You know as well as I do. That boy is a walking miracle. He isn't something that should be let loose in the secular world."

"Well. I see things a little differently."

"What?"

The Pope, revered as the Vicar of God, quietly gazed out at the vast expanse of the sky. His devout blue eyes curved gently into a serene smile.

"If a being of that measure ventured into the outside world of his own accord... then surely, this too must be the will of the Main God. At least, that is what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I believe."

"And what if he starts abusing his divine authority out there?"

"Mmm, that is difficult. Terribly difficult, but..."

He paused for a brief moment before continuing.

"As the Pope bound by the doctrines of the Temple, I would have no choice but to pass sacred condemnation, wouldn't I?"

The night was so deep it felt as though a dark shroud had been draped across the sky.

I was ascending a nearby mountain trail alongside Yurian.

That's surprising.

Even though we were on our way to meet a rumored vampire, Yurian showed no sign of complaint. As an imperial prince, trekking through the wilderness on foot should have felt bothersome and exhausting, yet not a single crack appeared on his cynical composure.

"Yurian. Aren't you scared?"

"A little. But the Count would never have assigned someone useless to me. So right now, my curiosity about this vampire creature is much stronger. Sir."

"...I see."

A fresh wave of emotion washed over me. For all his sharp tongue and prickly demeanor, it meant he trusted me in the end. Well, it was closer to trusting the Count who trusted me... but what did it matter?

"Yurian."

"Yes."

"It's probably better if you drop the formal speech altogether. Considering Floty's reaction today, it stands out way too much."

"That is true, I suppose."

"I can just speak casually to you anyway. Who would ever imagine a commoner speaking casually to imperial royalty?"

"You do speak excessively casually. Sir."

"Right, so let's just both speak comfortably to each other. Got it?"

"Understood."

Phew. It felt wonderful not having to listen to that awkward, half-formal jargon anymore. Deep down, watching him force himself to use honorifics had made me feel uncomfortable, as if he were wearing clothes two sizes too small.

"Director."

"Yeah?"

"Setting aside my concern for personal safety, I still don't understand your reasoning. How could you ever consider taking an unholy creature like a vampire into an orphanage?"

"That's the normal reaction, sure." I paused, then added, "Assuming it really is a vampire."

This world was a fantasy setting populated by numerous races, the most notorious of which were humanity's adversaries—the demons. And vampires ranked among the highest echelons of the demon race. Merely sighting one was enough to place all nearby settlements under an emergency lockdown.

A high-ranking demon like that hiding in human territory, quietly sucking the blood of wild beasts? Hardly a convincing scenario.

"Wait."

As we walked in silence, a cluster of lights flickered in the distance.

"That's..."

"Torches."

"One, two... six, seven? At this hour?"

There was little reason for anyone to cross a mountain trail steeped in grim rumors in the dead of night. Judging by their faint silhouettes, they carried very light luggage. There was only one plausible conclusion.

"Hunters?"

And most likely, hunters of rather foul character. In fact, anyone with half a brain would realize the rumor's subject wasn't an actual vampire. Most would deduce that the mysterious figure was merely a harmless creature sustaining itself on animal blood. And that kind of rarity meant money. If they auctioned it off on the black market, they stood to make an absolute fortune.

"Director, should we head in that direction?"

"...Probably."

The lights weren't scattered; they were clustered tightly together. On top of that, their individual movements had ground almost to a halt. The chances were high that they had found their quarry.

I scooped up Yurian and muffled my footsteps. The dense foliage blocked the moonlight, making the trail pitch-black. Inexperienced as he was, Yurian could easily trip and fall behind.

Just then, the situation took a violent turn with a man's dying scream.

"Aaaaargh!"

The orderly line of torches shook wildly in panic. One by one, the flames snuffed out, plunging the forest back into eerie silence. Now, only the pale moonlight filtering through the branches served as our guide.

Rustle, rustle.

We parted the thick underbrush and pressed forward. As the distance closed, the acrid stench of burnt wood tickled my nose, followed immediately by the sickening, rotten smell of blood that churned my stomach.

"Ugh..." Yurian grimaced deeply. Such a foul odor was clearly too harsh for a young child to endure.

When we finally broke through the dense woodland into an open, clearing-like meadow, the full moon shone overhead, brightly illuminating what had been shrouded in darkness.

Yurian stared past the collapsed hunters at a pair of eyes glowing with terrifying crimson light, his voice trembling with tension.

"Director."

"Yeah."

"Is that... a vampire?"

"No." I stated with certainty. "She's human. Just a little special."

Indeed, her wretched appearance was more than enough to invite the misunderstanding. She was drenched in blood from head to toe, and having gone without washing, the stench coming from her was revolting. Though her small frame was obvious at a glance, the ominous aura rolling off her was absurdly overwhelming.

A true predator. A child who felt like an entirely different tier of living creature.

"Human...? Truly?"

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠told you. She's just slightly different from ordinary people."

Several years ago, there was a dragon who took roleplaying far too seriously.

Normally, a dragon's mortal play was nothing more than a game of pretend. They polymorphed into whatever creature struck their fancy and indulged in full-blown method acting—the very pinnacle of eccentricity. Furthermore, they were like a gathering of dangerously unstable minds who would throw violent tantrums if their mortal guise was ever exposed. After all, they possessed just enough shame to feel embarrassed.

Then one day, an eccentric of a whole different caliber was born—a dragon who could no longer find satisfaction in ordinary roleplay.

To fully immerse himself in his chosen role, he cast a spell upon himself the moment he transformed: an enchantment that caused him to completely forget his existence as a dragon for the exact duration of his mortal life. Thus began an absurdly hardcore playthrough under the guise of an ordinary man afflicted with amnesia.

By a stroke of fortune, he succeeded in living among mortals and eventually married the woman who had saved him.

Then came the morning after their wedding night.

That day marked the precise expiration of his self-imposed mortal holiday—and the day his dragon memories returned.

Having shed all trace of human sentimentality, the dragon abandoned his bride without a second thought. That deadbeat dragon was none other than the Bloody Dragon. A being who craved blood over gold—the undisputed king of madmen.

"Uuu... Ahhh..."

And the little girl weeping strange, beast-like cries across the clearing was the solitary fruit of that broken union.

A half-dragon carrying the blood of the Bloody Dragon...

Her mother, an ordinary human woman, could never have handled it. From her absurd physical strength to an innate instinct that craved blood, she must have abandoned the child very early on.

Which was why I couldn't help but whisper, "You did well to hold out this long."

The scoundrels who had tried to hunt her were merely unconscious; none had suffered mortal wounds. Driven mad by an instinct that begged for the blood of her own kind, she had somehow managed to survive solely on the blood of beasts. And she was only a ten-year-old girl, the exact same age as Yurian.

"You too, of course."

I patted Yurian lightly on the head. He wasn't any different. Chewing through solitude all alone in the Imperial Palace, treating every passing day of survival as precious. The world was truly harsh.

"Seriously, why are there so many precarious children around me...?"

The moment I took a step forward, the girl scrambled backward and let out a shrill cry.

"Humans... no...! Uuuugh..."

"Haa... Huff..."

Her breath was ragged, thick with feral craving. Even so, fear lingered across her tightly bitten lips. The will of this young girl waging war against her own nature was extraordinarily strong.

"Director."

Yurian tugged at my sleeve.

"What are you going to do?"

"What do you want me to do?"

To my counter-question, Yurian replied with another question. "Can you save her?"

"Look at you, being so timid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for an imperial prince."

A noble figure should carry themselves with noble confidence...

"You're supposed to say: Save her."

"..."

Yurian nodded quietly.

Having confirmed his intent like this, that was enough. He hadn't even brought up running away. Even in adversity, the male protagonist certainly possessed commendable mettle. And if he had that kind of resolve, I had no choice but to answer it.

"Since you gave permission... Yurian, you're an accomplice now, all right?"

"Director?"

I took a single step forward.

In that instant, shimmering golden motes, like swarms of fireflies, rose from the earth. The delicately ascending particles of light spread out as if embroidering a golden galaxy across the night. Rustling leaves scattered brilliant radiance like morning dew falling from boughs, while blossoms blooming out of season unfurled across the verdant grass, heralding a vibrant pulse of life.

Divine Authority.

It was the power over all creation granted only to the scant few believers who had received a sacred Baptismal Name. A defiance of fate that forcibly manifested miracles forbidden to the mortal realm.

"Don't... come... near me...!" the girl gasped.

The golden grains shifted from points into lines, and from lines into planes. The sheet of golden light coalesced into the shape of braided cords that bridged the space between us, binding us together like sacred knots.

I continued to recite the holy words to complete the miracle.

May I shoulder the karma of this life. May her innocent guilt be absolved. And so, to this child who will one day run beyond the horizon, grant the gift of a blessed life.

The moment the prayer ended, a crimson energy surged along the golden cords binding us, invading my body. It was the process of transferring the dragon's instinct from the girl into me.

The manifestation of an omnipotent domain that should never have been possible—such was a miracle wrought through Divine Authority.

Thanks to that, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could see the world through the girl's eyes for the very first time.

"Aha..."

My bound hands burned hot. A primal urge to feast on blood writhed within me, screaming to slaughter the two children before me and drink them dry.

"So this is a dragon's instinct."

To carry out such an impulse, physical strength akin to a dragon's would naturally follow. Such was the nature of a dragon's innate essence.

"Haa..."

Just holding onto it felt thoroughly disgusting.

I compressed the crimson energy into the shape of a bead and expelled it above my palm. It looked like a blood-filled marble tightly packed with writhing veins.

"The Empire really needs to create a dragon regulatory committee or something."

I pinched the bead condensing the instinct between my fingers and squeezed. With a sharp, crystalline crack, the crimson haze scattered into the night air and vanished.

Such was the hollow end of the curse that had been suffocating a ten-year-old girl.

"Haa... haa... ugh..."

Her ragged breathing reached a turning point.

Thud!

Drenched in blood, she collapsed helplessly onto the grass. Suddenly liberated from the instinct that had tortured her for so long, pure exhaustion had claimed her.

I lifted her into my arms and signaled Yurian that it was time to leave. Trotting closely behind, Yurian looked up at me cautiously, as if seeing an entirely different person.

"Director... just what kind of person are you?"

"What else could I be?" I answered honestly. "A novice orphanage director."

"..."

The brilliant light of the miracle faded, the bloodthirsty curse dissolved, and only tranquil darkness settled over the quiet night. The once-barren orphanage had welcomed a new member to the family.