Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Carve That Emotion Deep Into Your Chest
The weight pressing down on my head was not something as simple as intimidation.
Was it the Grand Archivist’s power?
Even as pain flowed through Adela and vanished, new waves of agony kept surging in.
We could not stay like this.
“Rubel. Are you refusing to answer?”
I had to answer.
Even if revealing Memento Mori brought consequences, staying silent now meant death.
Especially with the kind of twisted taste those things hanging above seemed to have.
I could not hand Adela over to them.
“I… I can see the memories of the dead… and their equipment…”
Kugugung—
Enduring the pain that felt like my neck would snap, I confessed everything about Memento Mori.
This should buy me time.
“Ah… I see. So that’s why you kept touching corpses and carrying that ominous Mia’s weapon.”
“…Yes.”
“So the once useless second-rank knight suddenly moves like a different person, changes equipment after every expedition… it all makes sense now.”
The Grand Archivist slowly stroked his chin.
“You may lift your head.”
In an instant, the pressure pinning us down disappeared.
“Adela, are you okay?!”
I immediately checked on Adela.
“Haa… y-yes…”
Her expression looked strange.
She must have been taking both of our pain through the wedge contract.
I looked up again at the Grand Archivist.
He was smiling faintly, as if entertained.
“Such a blasphemous ability. Still… I am curious. Would you show me?”
He pulled a lever behind his seat.
Clack—
Rrrrrrrrr—
A chain mechanism engaged from the ceiling.
Click.
And then the chandelier began to descend.
“It seems you are interested. Take a closer look, Rubel. Adela.”
The ornate golden chandelier held seven saint statues.
They were holding hands…
No. Their hands were intertwined, forming a single circle.
Light leaked faintly from each of them.
That… those aren’t statues.
They are people.
Their surfaces looked hardened, but they were undeniably human.
One of them was even leaking blood that had melted through the wax-like surface.
So that was where the blood came from earlier.
Adela’s face turned deathly pale.
Her eyes were trembling.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? A circle protects us.”
So that’s what this is…
They turned saints into living lamps?
“The holy cities are built in circles. Even saint lanterns are spherical.”
“What… are you talking about…”
I forced my trembling voice to respond while holding back nausea.
What does a circle even matter here?
If I had refused to answer earlier… would Adela have become part of that circle too?
“Now then, shall we see your heretical ability? Touch whichever saint statue you prefer.”
“…Yes.”
Adela looked at me with anxious eyes.
My hand trembled.
Don’t shake. Don’t shake. Don’t shake.
If you want your saint turned into a wax doll hanging from that chandelier, keep shaking.
Otherwise, pull yourself together.
I placed my hand on the nearest saint statue’s head.
It felt solid, yet strangely soft and damp.
Wax.
The texture of hair buried under hardened wax seeped into my palm.
The saint stared into emptiness.
From her eyes, melted wax tears dripped instead of tears.
Then memories began to flood in, tearing through my mind.
A cold, dark prison.
Inside iron bars, saints were packed tightly like birds in a cage.
Even in such a cramped space, they sat neatly, as if waiting for something.
Not a single ray of sunlight entered, yet the inside of the cage glowed faintly.
I could not understand why they were there.
Men in black robes approached.
“This batch is quite large.”
“To seize such a sacred opportunity… they are all exemplary saints.”
Several were selected, including the saint whose memory this belonged to, and followed the men.
Strangely, the saints did not look afraid.
Then they were thrown into molten wax.
They screamed in pain as their bodies sank, yet still held each other’s hands.
Their vision was swallowed by wax.
Everything turned white.
They were insane.
What kind of place was the northern church?
Adela… was this your everyday life too?
As their bodies hardened, the memories blurred, and one by one the saints became part of the chandelier’s circle.
A single ring now illuminating the Grand Archive’s room.
…What was I just forced to see?
“I… have seen it.”
“Then tell me. What did you see inside them?”
“Cold cages… hot wax… and the process of forming a circle.”
It was so disgusting I could barely speak.
How many more atrocities existed within this holy land?
“Exactly… a sublime, sacred life.”
The Grand Archivist looked at the chandelier with a blissful expression.
He gently stroked one of the saint statues.
“I wish I could see what you saw. If I could record everything from their perspective… would that not be wonderful?”
He was insane.
This man called the Grand Archivist had lost his mind.
Why don’t you try falling into that wax yourself?
Go hang from that damned chandelier.
Even I, who only brushed against the memory, felt like my heart was being torn apart.
“Indeed…”
But I could not resist within that shadow.
The words crawled out of my mouth.
“Now then, have you seen what you wanted to see?”
“Khahaha… KHAHAHAHA!”
He burst into laughter, twisting his thin body like a worm.
“Rubel. I am not conducting an inquisition. You and Adela are talents meant to drive out darkness, are you not?”
“Then… why us?”
“I see hope in your reports. I did not know it was such an ability, but the process does not matter.”
His fingers tapped the desk.
“I am both a bishop of the eastern church and the Grand Archivist. There is so much I wish to know.”
So much knowledge… was it still not enough?
“There are countless truths buried in darkness outside the holy cities. And the dead do not speak.”
“So…”
“But I believe you will tell me, Rubel.”
He wanted me to bring him “food” from the dark.
“Adela too.”
Adela, pale and trembling, looked up.
“Yes…?”
“Ensure Rubel does not lose his way.”
“And if he does, you will be the one to report what he sees and hears.”
A future I could see clearly now.
If I lost my way in the darkness, Adela would be used as a messenger.
“No such thing will happen.”
My voice came out flat.
The Grand Archivist smiled.
“Let us hope so. Knights are always the ones who lose their way in the end.”
Knights lose their way…
Cassius and Radises probably never thought they would.
But they did.
And I ended them myself.
“Adela, step outside.”
“…Yes.”
She left the room, stumbling backward.
The Grand Archivist leaned closer.
“You care deeply for your saint, don’t you?”
“Y-”
“Break.”
Crack.
“Gah—!!”
My fingers twisted violently.
What—
Before I could react, he leaned in.
Slowly, deliberately, he stabbed a quill into the back of my hand.
“Do not scream. It is noisy.”
I could not even open my mouth.
“…!”
“If pain flows through the wedge, your saint will feel it too. Adela will hurt. She will worry about you.”
I could not respond.
I could do nothing.
“Carve that emotion deep into your chest. Helplessness. Defeat. Self-loathing. That is your motivation.”
Is this what he means?
I want to protect Adela…!
Not like this.
I don’t want this kind of emotion.
“I dislike you, don’t I?”
“Yes. Carry even that hatred.”
I do.
I hate him.
I hate him for hurting Adela.
I hate him for pushing us into hell.
I hate everything about this.
“Now leave.”
The pressure vanished.
I walked out without a word.
Even as I left, his shadow clung to me.
Click.
“Adela!”
She was curled up at the door, clutching her hand.
The ground beneath her was damp with tears.
That bastard… Tsergel.
I will kill him.
I will tear him apart.
A few minutes earlier
Adela was sent outside alone.
What was happening inside?
“Rubel…?”
A sharp pain struck her finger.
This was Rubel’s pain.
Something was happening inside.
Her unease deepened.
Then—
A faint, twisted sense of joy mixed with pain rose inside her.
Rubel was hurting.
And yet… he was thinking of her.
Her lips trembled.
A strange expression formed on her face.
Something between tears and a smile.
She could never let Rubel see that expression.