The Heathen Temple
A well-armed, seasoned veteran could hold his ground to a degree even when a fight broke out, but for the green recruits, the most common outcome was simply to collapse. And once the front line crumbled, it inevitably dragged down the rear ranks who had been fighting just fine.
Viewed in that light, it was hardly surprising that Johan and Gerdolf led from the very front. They were the two best armed and the two best fighters. What *was* surprising was that knights led the charge fighting goblins in a cave like this—because knights simply didn't do that...
The mercenaries who had entered the cave had watched the two knights with curiosity, wondering just how well they'd perform. Knights skilled in mounted combat were invincible on horseback. But on foot? Would they hold up in the muddy brawl of a narrow, dark cave?
As it turned out, the knights were indeed invincible on the ground too.
"Th-the goblins..."
"The goblins? What, did the goblins cast some wicked sorcery on you?"
"It's the first time I've ever seen goblins look *pitiful*."
"......"
"......"
The mercenary delivered his impression in a few short words, and his comrades were floored. What the hell...?
A veteran was talking like some soft-handed rookie.
"The goblins come charging at us from the front, not even slowing down, just trampling each other flat as they rush in, and we offer to help from behind, but they just get swept aside like a pile of rocks... I... I lost my nerve..."
"So you just stood there and watched? What kind of useless bastard are you? A half-wit?"
"I-I caught a few of the ones that jumped out from the sides."
"The knight's not going to cut us for doing a shit job because of you bastards, is he?"
"No, surely not..."
The mercenaries swallowed hard. They had their own pride, mercenaries did. Being dismissed for incompetence was a humiliation. And all the more so when the one dismissing you wasn't some petty two-bit noble, but a warrior you respected.
Without ever realizing it themselves, the mercenaries had already come to hold Johan in respect.
Earning the respect of rough fighting men wasn't difficult. All it took was a master who didn't cower like a coward but led from the front himself, who didn't pinch his gold, and who treated the mercenaries with respect. Admittedly, that *was* difficult.
"Stefan."
"Huh?"
"You haven't been saying useless things to the mercenaries, have you?"
"What? No, what do you..."
Stefan, who had been sitting quietly as instructed, was flustered by Johan's question. What manner of slander was this?
"I truly did nothing at all! Ask the servants around me!"
"The mercenaries suddenly fought like men possessed, so I wondered."
When the mercenaries had thrown themselves into the fray like they'd eaten something strange, Johan had suspected Stefan of making idle threats or promising rewards behind his back. Apparently not.
Then again, he probably couldn't afford it anyway.
"S-so, how did the subjugation go?"
"Successful so far. Looks like we've killed around a thousand."
"A th... a thousand?! Is that true?!"
Stefan leapt up in astonishment. How could anyone report such achievements so flatly?
"That's a great success! A great success! I must write a letter to the Count at once!"
The mercenary bands that had come to subjugate this place before had managed at most a few dozen kills. And once they'd taken that many, the goblins simply vanished and stopped appearing, so the mercenaries idled away their time around the village in boredom, gave up, and went home. By those standards, this was a success—no, a resounding triumph.
Suetlge opened his mouth, marveling at the feats Johan had accomplished in so short a time.
"That wolf of yours has paid for itself a hundred times over."
"It does seem we made the right call hunting them actively rather than waiting."
"Indeed. If we'd sat around waiting—what with everyone scared stiff on account of *someone*—it would have been that much harder."
"......"
"But aren't you worried the goblins might counterattack?"
"The mercenaries said the same thing, but there's been nothing. They're just hunkering down inside the caves."
The moment Johan praised him, Karamaf grew wildly excited and ferreted out goblin dens with abandon. Each cave held dozens, sometimes hundreds of goblins, and Johan and the mercenaries slaughtered them thoroughly.
By this point, the mercenaries had assumed that even the ones who'd fled would eventually gather in a desperate counterattack, but there wasn't the slightest sign of it.
"Could the goblins possibly be playing some trick on us, my lord? An ambush, perhaps...?"
"Ordinarily I'd call that nonsense, but this time there have been far too many oddities to say for certain. Best to stay sharp."
"The initial sweep is finished regardless. Now we'll remain in the village, persuade the escaped serfs to return, and search for any remaining dens."
Grrowl.
"Yes, yes. Good work."
Johan scratched Karamaf under the chin. Watching the enormous wolf fawn over him, Suetlge found himself marveling all over again.
Where on earth had Johan found this beast?
Taming monsters required quite a rare talent...
"Have the goblins gone mad? Why won't they obey me?!"
"Silence! We've had a minor setback, nothing more. They will obey my commands again soon."
"Can you not see those mercenaries swarming below us? Like this, we can't even get out! You're a lowborn with nothing to lose, but I have much to lose!"
"I believe I told you to shut up."
The wizard, wrapped in his robes, threatened the young noble in a voice like grinding stone, and the noble, jolted back to his senses by that voice, flinched.
"Subjugation parties have come before, more than once, and if you leave them be, they always go home eventually. It doesn't matter if the goblins never attack."
The wizard had been commanding the goblins of this region, using them as his minions. Attacking the village, holding off the subjugation parties—all of it had been thanks to the wizard's direction.
But this subjugation party was different.
They'd captured his painstakingly raised monster boar, and then the goblins had been terrified out of their wits and fled...
The most maddening part was that the goblins had become so frightened they'd burrowed into their dens and refused to come out. Even when he offered the drug that drove them into frenzy as a reward, even when he strengthened their wildness with his special incense, they wouldn't budge.
By then, even the wizard had caught on.
The knight leading this subjugation party was clearly no pushover!
Why would a knight like that come to some worthless backwater like this?
It was absurd, but complaining changed nothing. As a wizard, he had to accept reality and start scheming.
"If the goblins don't attack, it'll take a bit longer, but those men will grow satisfied and withdraw in the end. Surely a knight of his caliber won't linger here long?"
"The goblins have been exterminated. Are you truly calm about that?"
"Given time, the goblins multiply right back! And the ones I raised personally are perfectly fine. Leave it be!"
"But like this, we can't get out..."
"I told you to stay put, didn't I? Is there no patience in that head of yours? What do we lack here—water? Food?"
When a killing intent flashed through the wizard's harsh, aged voice, the noble felt gooseflesh rise on his skin.
"I... I understand. I will wait inside."
"Try any of your tricks to get out, and I won't leave you be. Pray quietly!"
"Yes, yes."
While the corpses were cleared away, the spoils gathered, and the scattered serfs searched out, nothing happened in the village.
Not even a single one of those routine goblin raids.
Foolish talk circulated among the mercenaries—isn't the subjugation over?—aren't all the goblins dead?
But Suetlge and Johan both found it deeply uneasy. Of course, they had slaughtered a tremendous number of goblins, but...
"We never came across any of them wearing metal armor, my lord."
"Right. That's the problem. Doesn't it strike you as odd? And that boar, too? Someone has to be raising that thing somewhere. No way around it."
"My lord. The monks have come to see you."
At Goidun's report, Johan's face twisted, and Suetlge could barely suppress a grin.
"Prayers again?"
"No, my lord. They say they have something to report."
"?"
Once the sweeping subjugation was over, the monks had combed through the mountains. Their reason: a record that a forgotten temple lay somewhere in this region. Tracking down temples based on such records kept in monasteries was part of their duty.
"You found it? Isn't that good news? A fine thing for the villagers."
"Well... um... ah..."
"?"
"It appears to be a temple of a heathen god..."
The monks spoke haltingly. Merely uttering such a thing felt blasphemous to them.
"What did you say?!"
Suetlge, on the other hand, showed far keener interest. A heathen temple? In a place like this, such a rarity?
"Lord Suetlge."
"Ah. My apologies."
Suetlge cleared his throat. There was no need to act like a heretic in front of monks. They were no ordinary madmen.
"By every appearance it seems to be a heathen temple, and it would be too sacrilegious for us to examine it further ourselves, so we could not bring ourselves to... Forgive us."
"Ha. It's fine. The god will... understand—no, forgive you. Worry not."
What kind of lunatic talk is that...?
Suetlge stared at Johan with eyes wide in horror. Hadn't he just almost said 'understand'?
No matter how he looked at it, those were not the words of a devout believer. But the monks, thoroughly smitten as they were, didn't notice a thing.
"You've come to ask that a report be sent to the Bishop-Count, I take it?"
"Yes. It hardly seems like our place to examine it ourselves..."
Suetlge jabbed Johan desperately in the back. The signal said: show me before the Bishop-Count Mohscho sees it. Johan gave a small nod.
"Understood. But I cannot easily send a report to the Bishop-Count as it stands, so I will inspect it personally and report afterward."
"Lord Johan... to burden you with such an ordeal..."
"It is only my duty."
The monks crossed themselves with expressions of deep gratitude and withdrew, their faces brimming with the trust that Johan was a man one could rely on.
Watching them go, Suetlge spoke.
"If you're ever hauled before an inquisition someday, you'd best milk the Church for all it's worth. A fine asset to have, that."
Johan selected the mercenaries with the strongest arms and the tightest lips. It was a search, true, but for Suetlge's sake, tight-lipped men were the better choice.
That was all well and good. Suetlge was grateful for Johan's consideration. This was exactly when one felt the value of friendship.
Except...
"Why in the world did you bring that blockhead knight?!"
"...He kept following us. There was nothing to be done."
Behind them walked Gerdolf the Butcher, together with the mercenaries.
From Suetlge's perspective, it was baffling.
-I. Coming along.
-No. Not necessary.
-Coming with mercenaries. Stronger than that mercenary. Mercenary dropped. Obvious.
...So logical I can't even argue.
"We'll need men to guard the perimeter anyway, so having Gerdolf along does no harm. He's a loyal friend as well."
"I must say, *huff huff*... you have a gift for befriending strange folk."
Doesn't Lord Suetlge count among them?
Johan thought so, but kept it to himself.
"So why do you wish to see this temple so badly?"
"Are you truly asking? Call it a heathen temple if you like, but that thing is without a doubt a relic of the Ancient Empire!"
"...!"
"Of course, it could be a temple built in secret by heretics gathered here, but given that it was written in monastery records, that's unlikely. It must be something that has stood there since ages past. *Huff huff*... Just imagine how many mysteries and secrets lie within!"
Suetlge panted for breath. Fortunately, they'd managed to reach the location the monks had reported without getting lost.
"What do you make of it?"
"Can't say until I look..."
Suetlge glanced around with a possessed look on his face. The small temple tucked against the face of a cliff appeared perfectly ordinary from the outside—hardly distinguishable from any church.
Suetlge went back and forth along the walls, touching them with his hands and licking them with his tongue. At that grotesque display, the mercenaries had to fight to keep their expressions from contorting.
Wizards really are a mad breed...
"Anything of value?"
"Nope. It's all been stripped."
The silver ritual vessels and unused ceremonial implements Johan had hoped for were absent. To be expected, since most such treasures were made of gold or silver.
Suetlge, wandering about the interior, came to a halt before one section of the wall and stood there for a long while.
"?"
"This is... a door, I'd say. A door to keep out intruders. In the Empire's days of turmoil, all manner of pillagers roamed its lands. Churches were the choicest prey for plunder, so a door like this would hardly be surprising."
"Could you open it?"
"Hard to say. Working out the method would take days at least. We'd simply have to stay and study it."
"That's a bit..."
"Why not?"
"Because I can't just leave everything to that fool Stefan."
"Then you could leave *me* behind and go."
"How could I possibly leave Lord Suetlge alone? If it is indeed a door, I'll open it myself."
"What lunacy is this? If that thing could be opened by force, then—wait."