Chapter 29
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: The Assassin's Recognition
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“What do you mean?”
Igor, who hadn't immediately understood Luon's words, wore a dumbfounded expression before his gaze fell upon the pommel adorning the base of the hilt. His voice trembled as he spoke.
“...A silver stag. Good heavens, it's a holy relic of Tivela.”
He gazed at the holy sword with a look of awe, but his expression soon hardened as he cautiously questioned Luon.
“Is it truly yours?”
Luon nodded as if it were obvious.
“Of course. Did you think I stole it?”
As he said this, he gripped the hilt, and the holy sword let out a low thrum.
Of course, this was a sensation only Luon, who was attuned to the sword, could feel. Becky’s expression remained unchanged, but Igor was different.
As a priest of Tivela, he must have sensed something, for his eyes widened as if they would tear, and he immediately dropped to his knees.
“The master of the holy sword... This humble lamb greets Tivela's Champion.”
Luon let out a faint sigh at the solemn display and set the sword down beside him.
“Please, I'd rather you dispense with the formalities. I may be the master of this sword, but I'm not the kind of person you think I am.”
“Ah...”
Igor's voice trailed off, as if he recalled the events on the Pilgrim's Road. However, the look of adoration in his eyes as he gazed at Luon made it clear that such things no longer mattered to him.
Becky seemed just as surprised.
From the moment Igor uttered the words ‘Tivela's Champion,’ she had been staring intently at Luon's face.
Becky spoke.
“That day, I prayed so desperately. ‘Oh God, please help me.’ I prayed again and again. Do you think Tivela sent you to me as an answer to my prayers?”
What’s with her now?
Luon stated flatly.
“No, it was a coincidence.”
“But...”
“It was a coincidence.”
Igor, looking curious about what had happened, glanced back and forth between Luon and Becky, but when neither said anything more, he simply scratched his head.
“Then, may I assume the reason for your journey to Nuke is to visit the Grand Church?”
When Luon nodded silently, Igor’s face brightened.
“It is an honor to accompany you.”
Before Luon could reply, Igor shuffled over to a corner, knelt, and began to murmur in a low voice.
“Mother, today I have met your sword...”
Was it a mistake to bring him along?
Shaking his head, Luon glanced at Becky beside him.
She seemed lost in deep thought, her eyes blankly tracing the heat shimmering from the bonfire.
Not wishing to disturb her contemplation, Luon sat on a low-lying rock behind him and fiddled with the hilt of the holy sword.
Suddenly, Becky’s words came to mind.
‘Do you think Tivela sent you to me as an answer to my prayers?’
You sent me?
Luon scowled as if he'd heard a bad joke. Since acquiring this sword, he had both said and heard the words ‘Tivela's Champion’ on occasion, but he had never once considered himself an agent of Tivela.
To Luon, the holy sword was nothing more and nothing less than a magic sword with exceptional strength and resilience that could absorb demonic power.
If you think you can control me in exchange for giving me this sword, you'd best think again.
The holy sword hummed softly in response to the silent monologue of the faithless warrior, who had not the slightest intention of being led by the gods, even if they were real.
And so the night deepened.
***
The party, which had grown to three overnight, walked along an old, overgrown path.
Igor, having belatedly heard Becky’s story, had tears welling in his eyes as he tightly gripped her gaunt hands.
“Good heavens, to think you went through something so terrible... It seems such awful things are still happening in places untouched by the Mother's light. You've truly suffered.”
Becky shook her head.
“No. Thanks to Luon’s help, I’m safe now.”
“Ah, such noble conduct, befitting a champion...”
Walking a step ahead, Luon turned his head, feeling the intense gaze boring into his back. He asked.
“Not all of Tivela's priests are like you, are they?”
“What do you mean, ‘like me’?”
“If you don't get it, forget it.”
Igor, seemingly reluctant to let the conversation end, quickly added.
“At least in the church where I served, no one loved the Mother more than I. Thanks to that, I received a letter of recommendation and am now on my way to the Grand Church.”
A thought suddenly occurred to Luon, and he asked.
“What kind of place is the Grand Church?”
Igor blinked for a moment, as if he didn't expect such a question from the Champion, then slowly began to speak.
“I’m not sure what exactly you’re curious about, but as it was the first structure built to honor the Mother’s will, you must know it holds an indescribable symbolic importance...”
His voice trailed off before he clapped his hands with a soft “Ah” and added.
“The Grand Church is home to a holy maiden who receives direct revelations from the Mother. She is an object of reverence for all who serve Tivela.”
A holy maiden...
Luon gave a small nod. It wasn't particularly surprising that such a figure would exist in what was surely the heart of the faith.
“I see.”
As their short conversation ended, dark, gloomy clouds suddenly began to gather over the party.
Igor watched the procession of clouds that swallowed the sunlight and created an eerie atmosphere.
“Looks like it’s going to rain.”
As if on cue, a single droplet landed on his forehead and scattered.
As Igor and Becky wiped the moisture from the backs of their hands, Luon spoke.
“Let's hurry.”
However, the downpour that soon followed was not something the party could overcome simply by rushing.
The old path, lacking even proper paving stones, quickly became a waterlogged, muddy mess.
The sinking mud and the fierce rain, lashing down like arrows, were quite a nuisance even for Luon. He narrowed his eyes and glanced back to see if the other two were keeping up.
Igor seemed to be managing well enough, but Becky, despite wearing the cloak Luon had given her, was stumbling and looked very unsteady.
This won't do.
Intentionally heightening his vision to find a place to take shelter from the rain, Luon scanned his surroundings and finally spotted a hut in the distance.
“Follow. Me.”
Luon shouted the words distinctly, breaking them apart so they wouldn't be swallowed by the sound of the rain, and immediately set off.
The door to the hut was not closed. A familiar, coppery smell seeped through the finger-width gap, and Luon pushed the door open without hesitation.
He easily found a man and a woman lying face down on the floor, submerged in a pool of blood.
They were in an embrace, and their vacant eyes made it clear they were dead.
Just then, a man sitting in a rocking chair by the fireplace, wiping a blood-stained sword, spoke in a leisurely tone.
“Looks like you've come to take shelter from the rain.”
Igor and Becky, who had hesitantly followed Luon inside, gasped in shock at the sight before them.
“What is this... Did you do this?”
At Igor's trembling voice, the man nodded.
“You see correctly. Anyway, you're all a mess. Come closer and dry yourselves off.”
The man, who had nonchalantly admitted to his own murders, gestured toward the fireplace as if welcoming guests, causing Igor’s veins to bulge.
“How can you say that!”
“Why are you angry? Ah, is it because of them?”
The man nodded as if he had just understood and nudged the dead man with the toe of his boot.
“This man abandoned his wife and ran off with a young prostitute.”
Then he nudged the woman beside him.
“And this woman has a colorful history of her own—when the man hesitated to elope because of his young children, she poisoned them.”
After briefly explaining the dead couple’s history, the man shrugged.
“The poor wife, who had lost her children and been abandoned by her husband, wanted them dead. I simply fulfilled her wish. That's all.”
“So you're an assassin?”
Luon, who had been silent, interjected. The man nodded again.
“That's the simplest way to put it.”
Unlike the clearly enraged Igor and the wide-eyed Becky, Luon watched the man with an unchanging expression.
At his gaze, the man raised both his palms. The meaning was clear: I have no intention of fighting.
How troublesome.
Luon sighed inwardly. If the man had attacked, intending to silence them, it would have been one thing, but there was no real reason to attack someone just sitting there.
“Luon!”
Luon turned his head at the agitated voice from beside him. Igor, his face beet red, spoke.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
“And do what?”
When Luon asked calmly, Igor stammered with a dumbfounded look.
“That... that man killed ordinary people...”
“Not ordinary people. A woman who killed three young children, and the man who abandoned his wife to fall in love with her.”
As the man interjected, Igor fell silent. Then Luon spoke.
“I have no intention of holding you morally responsible for what you've done. By that measure, I'm quite the killer myself. But regardless, I don't particularly feel like sharing a room with you.”
He gestured toward the pouring rain outside.
“It seems we're both in an awkward spot. Could you just leave? There are three of us, after all.”
As he spoke, Luon took a silver coin from his pouch and tossed it to the man.
The man deftly caught the coin and smiled faintly.
“Fine by me. I can't stand a stuffy atmosphere either.”
The man rose from his seat, draped a black cloak that was on the floor over his body, and pulled up the hood.
“Well then, I'll be on my way. Rest well.”
With those words, the man walked past the group and headed for the door, out into the downpour.
Or, he had intended to.
He suddenly stopped in his tracks, slowly turning his head, his eyes narrowing.
His gaze was fixed not on the glaring Igor, but on the expressionless Luon.
“Not leaving? What, was one silver coin not enough?”
To Luon’s gruff question, the man slowly opened his mouth.
“...It's so faint, I almost missed it.”
Before he finished speaking, the man spun with incredible speed and thrust out his hand.
Luon caught the black object flying toward his face with his right hand.
Sizzle!
The gruesome sound of burning flesh filled the air.
As Luon dropped the object, a sharp pain searing his palm, the man charged and slammed his shoulder into Luon's chest.
The impact was surprisingly heavy, as if his shoulder were plated with steel, and Luon was pushed back half a step. He immediately tried to draw his holy sword to counterattack but realized that Becky and Igor were in his way. Instead, he kicked the man squarely in the chest.
“Kuh!”
The man gritted his teeth and tried to steady himself, but unable to stop his momentum, he did a backflip to right himself.
In the process, he ended up outside. Luon followed him out into the pouring rain, tilted his head, and asked.
“What was that all of a sudden?”
Meeting Luon's piercing gaze, the man answered.
“So you were the one who killed Vittorio and Duermyure.”