Chapter 33
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: The Butler's Plea
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Igor seemed quite taken aback by Luon's sudden proposal, but he soon nodded with a firm expression.
“Very well. My assignment to the Great Church, and my timely meeting with you, Lord Luon—it must all be the Mother's will that we vanquish that wicked demon. It is an honor to join you!”
*I don't think that's quite it*, Luon thought, but he kept the words to himself. There was no need to throw cold water on Igor's enthusiasm.
The priestess, who had been watching Igor with an appreciative gaze, turned her head to look at Luon.
“Warrior, though you may not be Tivela's Champion, you embark on a journey for justice with the Mother's sword. I, too, shall offer what little help I can.”
That was welcome news.
Help from the priestess was sure to be anything but ordinary.
“You must be weary from your long journey. For now, please rest well in this mansion and recover your strength. We shall meet again before you depart.”
Luon spoke to the priestess.
“Thank you for your consideration. If it's not too much trouble, may I ask a personal favor?”
“Of course.”
The priestess looked intrigued, as if she hadn't expected the word "favor" to come from Luon.
Luon said.
“If possible, I would like this woman to stay here.”
At his calm words, Becky, who had been silently watching the three of them, was startled and stammered.
“L-Lord Luon, I...”
“Very well.”
The priestess nodded readily and gazed into Becky's wavering brown eyes.
“You have a strong soul, wounded but not broken. Yes. The Mother's mercy exists for people like you.”
As Becky's eyes reddened at the priestess's warm words, Igor offered her a biscuit with an awkward smile.
“Welcome, sister.”
A short while later, Luon was leaning against the headboard of a bed, feeling the soft touch of the white sheets.
The sheets, impeccably clean for this world, carried the faint scent of citrus and flowers.
The laundry must have been hung to dry near the garden.
Luon, who had been resting with his eyes closed amidst the pleasant aroma, opened them at a soft knock.
He had actually heard footsteps pacing outside the door even before the knock. He spoke.
“Come in.”
“...Excuse me.”
Becky entered hesitantly, placing some refreshments on a small table in the room.
“Miss Lauren gave them to me.”
Luon tilted his head at the unfamiliar name before recalling that it belonged to the young woman he had met at the mansion's entrance.
Luon chuckled.
“You've become friends already?”
“We just chatted for a bit.”
“I see.”
He wasn't fond of sweets, but out of consideration for the person who brought them, Luon tossed a biscuit into his mouth. He asked.
“What is it?”
“I wanted to thank you...”
“It was just a few words. Don't worry about it.”
Becky stared at Luon's nonchalant face and said.
“But no one ever said those words to me. Words like 'Are you okay?', 'I'm sorry,' 'That must have been hard.'”
Becky slowly added.
“...Lord Luon, may I ask why you've helped me so much?”
Luon fell silent at Becky's question. Not because he didn't want to answer, but because he himself had never precisely understood the reason.
A half-hearted answer like "Just because" felt inappropriate for the moment, so he mulled over the question for a while.
After a not-so-short pause, Luon slowly began to speak.
“Let's just say... I know what it feels like to have no one in the world on your side.”
Becky blinked her large eyes and asked.
“You've had moments like that, Lord Luon?”
Luon gave a bitter smile, suddenly wondering what expression she would make if she knew that when he first fell into this world, he had hidden in the corner of a stable and sobbed his heart out.
“Perhaps...”
As his voice trailed off, he felt a sudden warmth covering the back of his hand.
Becky had placed her hands over his and murmured softly.
“I will always pray for you, Lord Luon.”
*Well, now.*
Luon let out a dry laugh at the completely unexpected words, but then realized they didn't sound so bad. He slowly nodded.
“Well, if you wish.”
Becky responded with a bright smile.
***
“What's this?”
The next day, as Luon was leaving the mansion, he was handed an ordinary wooden bow, unstrung and consisting of just the bow stave.
The priestess answered as if it were obvious.
“It's a bow.”
“I'll need to stop by a blacksmith's.”
“That won't be necessary.”
At her words, Luon moved the bow stave around, and with a strange sense of déjà vu, he unconsciously reached out with his other hand.
An invisible bowstring met his hand, and an arrow of faint light materialized upon it, resting against his fingertips.
*What the?*
Luon, wearing a rare expression of surprise at the sight, asked.
“Is this magic?”
“It's an item crafted by a master blacksmith, who engraved a magical inscription onto wood from a tree that grew under the blessings of priests. I thought someone who wields a holy sword would be more than capable of using it.”
Having unintentionally acquired a bow that didn't need arrows, Luon asked with a bewildered expression.
“This seems like a valuable item.”
“A fitting item for a valuable person.”
The priestess added.
“It was surprisingly unpopular among paladins, who fight with swords and maces, so please accept it without feeling burdened.”
“I'll make good use of it.”
As Luon gave his short reply, Igor, with a backpack slung over his shoulders, approached him.
“Lord Luon, I'm ready.”
“Then, we'll be on our way.”
Luon's gaze passed over the priestess's face and landed on Becky, who was standing behind her.
-Be careful.
Reading her silent words, Luon gave a faint smile and immediately turned away.
There was no hesitation in his steps as he moved forward, leaving the brief connection behind.
***
The small castle where Baron Dunsany resided was steeped in deep sorrow. The reason was that the baron's only child, Hannah, had lost her life after misstepping while playing in the mountains with her maid.
This tragedy, which on its own would have been a rather plain preface to a story, began to gain substance when a mysterious woman started visiting his study.
The rumor was as follows.
The woman was actually a witch who was bewitching the baron and leading him to corruption under the pretext of resurrecting the deceased Hannah!
There were two crucial reasons why this rumor couldn't be dismissed as mere gossip. The first was the stench of rot and blood wafting from behind the baron's tightly locked study door. The second was the mysterious woman who freely came and went through that same door, which remained closed even to the butler who had served the baron his entire life.
One might ask what the lord's private soldiers or knights were doing if something was amiss, but the domain was so small and poor that it had few properly trained soldiers. To make matters worse, most of them had been dispatched on a northern expedition by order of a king mad with conquest. The reality was that there was no one available to investigate the matter.
The butler, Wooden, knew full well that if the ominous rumor of the baron losing his mind were to spread, there would be no shortage of people rushing to seize even this tiny domain. He made a decision.
*I must do something!*
Wooden dragged his creaking, aged body to the largest tavern in the domain.
Hoping to find someone capable of handling the job, the old butler pushed open the tavern door. His eyes fell upon a scene: a group of thugs, their faces flushed red with drink, facing off against a giant of a man with broad shoulders.
Beside the giant stood a young man who appeared to be his companion. He was desperately trying to stop the giant, perhaps knowing they would be at a disadvantage in a fight. But his words were a bit strange.
“Oh, Lord Luon! No! In times like these, it is the Mother's will to show mercy. Please, calm yourself.”
The thugs, provoked by his words, shouted back.
Their tongues were thick with alcohol.
“Whaat? What's this pretty boy mumblin' about? You wanna die?”
“Mershy? Mershy? Are these bastards kiddin' me?!”
“Hidin' behind your big boyfriend makin' you feel all brave, huh?”
Spitting insults, the thugs each pulled out small weapons from their clothes.
The giant replied with a bored expression.
“So, are you going to attack or what?”
“You son of a bitch!”
The thug at the front drew back his dagger-wielding hand and charged.
*Smack!*
And with a loud crack, he crashed to the floor. The fallen man's cheek swelled visibly, and three or four yellowed teeth lay scattered on the ground.
Seeing their companion trembling on the floor with one side of his face mangled from a mere slap, not even a punch, the other thugs flinched back. They started hiccuping, as if the shock was finally sobering them up.
“*Hic!* Wh-what the.”
“Sh-shit. What the hell are you?”
“Tony, get up! You're joking, right? Right?”
The giant strode toward them without hesitation.
Watching his back, the giant's companion clasped his hands together and muttered under his breath.
“Ah, Mother... in the end, I could not stop him.”
The situation ended with absurd speed.
Before the thugs could even mount a proper response, they were sent sprawling across the floor, their cheeks burning as if on fire.
If not for the vivid streams of blood flying from their faces, the scene would have been so surreal it could have been mistaken for a cheap comedy.
The giant, having taken down the thugs in an instant, seemed to notice Wooden staring at him and tilted his head.
“Is there something you want to say?”
***
“You think this is it?”
Igor slowly nodded in response to Luon's question.
“I can't be certain until we go there ourselves, but... it's very likely.”
*Have we finally found it?*
Luon looked at the old man, who had introduced himself as Wooden, and briefly recalled the past few days.
A considerable amount of time had passed since they left the Great Church, yet the two had made no significant progress.
Igor, who had been trying to find their direction by handling the holy sword each night, had explained the reason.
‘The power of Belducias that the holy sword has consumed isn't yet sufficient. It seems it will be difficult to use the sword as a compass right away. We'll need to absorb more of his power.’
Fortunately, while the holy sword couldn't locate the source of Belducias, it could point them toward places with similar power to what it had consumed. Following Igor's guidance, Luon had arrived in a quiet domain.
There, while resting at a tavern, a drunken thug had picked a fight by taunting Luon and Igor about being lovers. The moment the fight ended, the old man, introducing himself as the baron's butler, had appeared and requested their help.
They still didn't know the identity of the woman visiting the baron's study, but they concluded that if she was connected to an incident in a place the holy sword had led them to, there was a very high probability she was a servant of Belducias.
Luon looked at the butler, who was watching him with an anxious expression, and spoke.
“The baron's matter... we'll handle it.”