Chapter 4: One Who Understands the Three Worlds (4)
Chapter 4: One Who Understands the Three Worlds (4)
The dhampir girl pointed at the dark clothes Eugene wore.
"You wear priest's robes and claim you're not a priest?"
"These are acolyte's vestments. Anyone dwelling in a monastery can wear them. There are separate garments for those who have received formal priestly ordination."
Ptooey!
The girl's spit landed before Eugene's shoes.
"It reeks just the same."
Whatever had happened, the Orthodox Church had clearly earned her hatred.
Eugene ground the spit under his shoe and surveyed the surroundings.
The underground prison appeared to have been neglected since he had washed his hands of it.
Perhaps it was because orphans had entered the monastery several times in between, only to flee before long.
Eugene set down the cleaning tools, placed the chair he had brought before the iron bars, and sat.
Unlike the defiant girl, the two who seemed to be a mother and daughter were trembling with fear.
Their shoes had been confiscated, perhaps as a precaution against escape, and their pitiful bare feet were blackened with grime. It was fortunate, at least, that no wounds were visible.
'It would have been easier if the place were empty as usual.'
This was a monastery, not a city guard outpost.
Instead of multiple small solitary cells, there was only a single large iron-barred room set in the corner of a storehouse.
A wooden plaque reading 'Repentance Hall' hung on the cell. Long ago, it had been used to confine priests who broke religious law and force them to reflect.
The secret passage was hidden in that very room, where the three dhampirs were imprisoned.
Grrrrrowl.
The sound of an empty stomach came from beyond the iron bars.
"You haven't eaten anything, have you?"
"It did not come from my belly."
The girl replied, her face slightly flushed.
"Mama, I'm hungry."
Eugene's gaze shifted to the other two.
'They were mother and daughter after all.'
Before the mother and daughter lay only a single small water bucket, filled to the brim.
They would not be starved entirely. They would naturally receive no blood, and at most a bit of moldy bread or a single potato.
"You there, good sir."
The mother looked at Eugene pleadingly. Anyone with a human heart could tell at once what she wanted.
After all, the child was innocent.
"I've brought some food. Will you take it?"
"!!!"
The mother's face lit up.
Eugene drew the jerky Homi had packed and the rye bread he had bought in the market from inside his robe.
Gulp!
The mother and daughter swallowed hard but did not approach at once. They glanced cautiously at the girl.
The girl, leaning against the wall, gave a small nod.
"Thank you, my lady!"
The mother accepted the food with trembling hands, then took it to the girl before feeding her own daughter.
"Never mind me, just eat."
"B-but."
The girl had been looking at the woman with gentle affection, but her eyes hardened the instant she glared at Eugene.
"As a noble of Barsia, I refuse to let anything given by those Orthodox Church curs touch my lips."
"Understood."
The mother bowed her head and returned to her daughter.
"This isn't charity from the Order. As I told you, I'm no priest, and I'm set to leave soon. These are my personal belongings."
The girl offered no reply and folded her arms.
In contrast, the mother and daughter ate their food with much more ease. The sight warmed Eugene's heart.
"Eat slowly. You'll get indigestion."
"...You truly are no lackey of the Orthodox Church."
The girl's expression softened a fraction.
"I have never seen those bastards smile the way you do."
"I've told you several times already."
"Hmph!"
Eugene quietly observed the mother and daughter's meal.
"What? Did you think we drink only blood?"
"No. No matter how much nutritional value blood has, could you live on that alone?"
The mother tore the jerky into bite-sized pieces and fed one to her young daughter.
"It's just... it's been a long time since I've seen a mother and child sharing a meal together. It's a fine sight."
The girl looked at Eugene with a strange expression.
"Our lifespans are long. If a lengthy life lacks joy, then life itself becomes a prison. Our tongues are more refined than yours and are entitled to their due pleasures."
It was just as Master Goffrey had said. She was true to form for the proud race that styled themselves the nobility of the night.
"Why don't you have some too, then?"
"I don't need your pity."
"Suit yourself. I'm happy enough seeing the mother and daughter eat their fill."
The girl let out a low sigh.
"What exactly is your purpose here? You do not seem to have come to clean, nor to mock. Did you truly come purely out of mercy?"
"Well, it's closer to saying I want to make a trade than to showing mercy."
"A trade?"
The girl's eyes widened as though she'd heard something unimaginable.
Seeing her drop the imperious attitude she'd maintained the entire time made her look rather endearing, as befitted her age.
The girl held out her empty hands.
"As you can see, we have nothing."
"Right. Bare hands and bare feet."
"..."
The girl drew in her legs, which she'd had stretched out. A noble young lady would naturally feel ashamed to show her dirty soles.
Meanwhile, Eugene considered the problem.
Three days hence, upon reaching his majority, he would leave the monastery and have no pretext to enter this place.
But how would those women react if they learned there was a secret passage in their cell?
Would they stay quiet if told to, since it was no escape route?
'Absolutely not.'
Desperate for any hope, they would follow him inside, rummage through the Sealed Shrine, make noise, and get them all caught by the priests.
Yet he could not kill them. Issues of morality aside, the monastery would raise a furious storm, claiming they had ruined their performance.
The best method was to render all three unconscious. However, besides the mother and daughter, the girl in particular was so weakened that any rough method would be dangerous.
Fortunately, Eugene, who had inherited the witch's knowledge of herb lore, knew a gentlemanly way to put them to sleep.
'Today and tomorrow, I'll provide food to make a good impression. The day after, I'll feed them something laced with a sleeping draught and put them to bed.'
Afterward, he would enter the Sealed Shrine through the secret passage, retrieve the keepsakes, and leave. That was Eugene's Plan B.
They would eat their fill, and Eugene would obtain what he desired.
A win-win.
The problem was that the haughty young noblewoman refused to eat anything he offered.
"Let us meet again at the next mealtime."
Fortunately, this too was not without a remedy. Eugene withdrew for the time being to make preparations.
"Thank you!"
"..."
Unlike the mother and daughter, who bowed deeply, the girl gave him not a single glance.
When Eugene emerged from the underground prison, the monastery was in an uproar. Raised voices could be heard, as if a fight had broken out.
He ran toward where the commotion was, finding priests gathered around. In the center stood Goffrey, at odds with the senior priest.
"Have you lost your mind? How dare you, in a sacred monastery!"
The senior priest pointed a finger at Goffrey, while the other priests wore expressions of shock.
Goffrey had a sword drawn in his hand.
While Eugene was speaking with the dhampir women in the underground prison, Goffrey met with the senior priest.
He had hoped that a request from him might help his disciple recover his mother's belongings. Adding his support could do no harm.
"Absolutely not."
The senior priest was firm.
"The vile possessions of a witch must never be loosed upon the world."
"As far as I know, Eugene's mother was little different from an herbalist. She possessed only a little magical power. Has anyone ever seen her commit a wicked act?"
No one had. She had provided effective medicine, and there was no evidence that she had done anything wicked. That was why the monastery had left her alone.
"A cup brimming with water is rendered undrinkable by the mere sprinkling of a little filth. Eugene's mother was a witch, I say."
"Even despite her medicines healing numerous children, mothers in labour, and elders?"
In terms of the health and quality of life of the villagers alone, none had contributed more than Eugene's mother.
"Such paltry tricks mean nothing. Faith in God is the true panacea."
"There are more than a few who only worsened despite praying a hundred days at the monastery, only to rise with a single dose of her remedy."
"How can you utter such impious words, Brother Goffrey? Surely you are not shielding her because she is your disciple's mother?"
"I only want to face the world practically and without prejudice."
As the two raised their voices, the monastery priests began to gather one by one.
The senior priest, sensitive about his standing, took note of the eyes upon him. As one who had designs on the position of abbot, he could not afford to lose even a minor dispute.
"It seems to me, Brother, that you have not been able to relinquish the heart you held when living as a knight. There must be something more important to you than devotion to God."
At that, Goffrey's temper flared as well.
"Are you insulting the devotion I have shown this monastery all this time?"
"One who cannot call a witch a witch cannot be called a servant of God."
More priests gathered until the scene resembled an arena built around the two men's verbal duel.
The spectacle stirred the senior priest's ambition. He would do anything to advance his position.
"I say again, Eugene's mother is a witch. Her soul is surely fallen into Hell and burning. She may plead and plead with her two hands charred black, but it is already too late. God's mercy does not reach down to Hell. And that whelp Eugene, once he leaves the monastery, will meet the very same fate as his mother in the end."
In that moment, Goffrey felt something inside his head snap cleanly.
"How dare you say such a thing?!"
SHING!
He had drawn his sword and aimed it at the senior priest.
Amid the startled murmurs of the other priests, Goffrey realized he had gone too far.
"You see, Brother Goffrey. No, no longer even a brother! You are not a priest but still a knight. You cannot confront wickedness forthrightly and are far too violent to be a servant of God."
The senior priest spoke with a composed face. Inside, he wore a smile of victory.
"What is the meaning of..."
Eugene, arriving belatedly, realized the situation had spun completely out of control.
Late afternoon. Master and disciple faced one another on a hill overlooking the village.
"So you are being driven out. For attempting to strike down the senior priest in the sacred monastery."
"I drew my sword in anger, but I never meant to cut him. And I am leaving on my own two feet."
Even knowing a banishment decree had been issued, Eugene respected his teacher and said no more.
By sunrise the next morning, Goffrey was forbidden to remain anywhere in the village.
"Thank you."
"What for?"
"You drew your sword because you could not stomach the insult to my mother, did you not?"
"It was not solely for that reason."
"In any case, it has turned out for the best. You had intended to leave in any case, and now you depart before me, so I can at least see you off."
"I've always admired how you find a good side to everything. I could never do the same."
"Unlike you, Master, who are a born knight... I am a bit more complicated."
Goffrey showed no reaction now to being called a knight, as if he had no lingering attachment to the role of a priest.
Eugene gave him a searching look.
"You will be lonely. Have you considered traveling with me?"
"That's enough, boy. I intend to set out on a pilgrimage of my own, to seek the voice of God. It is time you too graduated from your squire's duties."
Goffrey tossed the sword he was holding, scabbard and all, to Eugene.
"What is this?"
It was not the sword Goffrey usually carried around.
"A gift. I had meant to give it to you on the day you left, but circumstances have turned out this way."
Eugene drew it partway. A flawless, razor-sharp blade reflected the light. It looked to be freshly forged.
"It is no famous blade, but it is a fine sword nonetheless."
"The work of the village blacksmith is excellent. I shall use it gratefully."
"And one more thing."
"?"
Goffrey drew his own sword as well.
"From our first meeting, I knew you possessed monstrous strength and talent. I thought I had been conducting your knightly training accordingly, in my own way, but it seems I was mistaken. Even that was bound within the shackles of my own common sense and experience."
"Are you saying that after seeing me beat down a monster boar, you intend to raise the intensity of my training, or something of the sort?"
"It's easy to teach a quick-witted disciple. Yes, that is right."
"I did not know myself that I could produce such strength."
The lessons of the past were not without meaning.
What Goffrey had taught was centered less on how to kill than on how not to die.
He had thought methods of killing could be taught slowly. So long as one lived, opportunities to learn how to kill were countless.
He taught Eugene about treacherous enemies, attacks in the dark, dangerous terrain such as swamps and sandy deserts, ambushes and encirclements, and secret arts that were deadly if one did not know them in advance.
He transmitted experiences that some learned only through death, others through lifelong scars, and still others at the cost of huge amounts of gold.
"A lifetime of learning how to avoid death is still not enough, but methods of killing are learned quickly."
Goffrey leveled his sword at Eugene.
"I have already taught you all the framework of my swordsmanship and techniques. How you apply them is purely a matter of your own capability."
Eugene silently leveled his own sword at his teacher. As befitted master and disciple, their stances were identical.
At that sign, Goffrey smiled faintly. Though their height and faces differed, he felt as though he were facing his own son.
Having lived a celibate life, there had been times when thoughts of progeny and a piercing loneliness had assailed him.
Yet the disciple before his eyes seemed like looking into his own mirror. The hollow ache of solitude felt entirely washed away.
"For now you will use the forms and techniques I have taught, but you will forget them in an instant."
"Why is that?"
"Because your prodigious strength and talent will shatter them and break free, like a butterfly emerging through its cocoon. When a blade grows larger than its scabbard, the scabbard must tear."
Goffrey drew his sword aside.
"Before you leave this village, I will tear apart the scabbard within your heart. Then you will truly come to possess swordsmanship that is your own."
Goffrey closed his eyes.
To ordinary people, the Blind Knight.
To those who revered him, the Knight of Prophecy.
His teacher began to radiate a sharp intensity Eugene had never felt from him before.
Eugene too raised his sword amidst the tension.
Yet he felt no fear. Rather, a strange exhilaration as though his blood were boiling spread from his heart through his entire body.
It felt as if the inner voice he had heard when killing the monster boar was calling to him once more.