An Uncomfortable Reunion (1)
An Uncomfortable Reunion (1)
The open area in the center of the village was crowded with people. Soldiers of the Order, a few Holy Knights, priests and monks, and even the villagers. Altogether, about a hundred individuals stood gathered in orderly rows.
Every gaze was fixed on a single hut.
Because of the strange behavior of a noble-looking boy who had burst out of it.
He had thrown something before the Church's forces as if giving out charity.
A small, red Imp.
As soon as its form was confirmed, the entire force drew their swords.
Every blade pointed at the Imp.
“Restrain it!”
A cage, like a tiny birdcage made of iron, dropped down over the Imp. Trapped inside, it stared at the hut with a dazed expression.
More precisely, it was staring at the boy.
Once the Imp was captured, all eyes turned back to the boy.
So did the blades.
One knight in Holy Armor rode forward on horseback.
“Identify yourself! Until your identity is confirmed, we will not—”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. It was the emotion that surged when he met Johan’s eyes.
A strange feeling—like he ought to respect him.
“Kh, hmm.”
The Holy Knight immediately gathered himself. He couldn’t afford to be swayed by personal impressions. As an executor of divine punishment, cold reason wasn’t a choice—it was a duty.
He spoke again.
“State your name and house, at once!”
The boy in front of him was clearly a noble. His entire appearance set him apart from the villagers.
Johan gave a slight bow and said,
“I am Johan Miyatro. I greet the vanguard of the Holy War.”
The moment he heard the family name, the knight dismounted. He still looked down on Johan, but only because of the overwhelming height difference. He looked at least three times Johan’s weight.
“You must be one of the Watchers of the Abyss. I am Holy Knight Kaynac Zahad. Forgive me, but do you have any way to prove your identity?”
Johan clicked his tongue quietly so that only he could hear.
‘Thorough, isn’t he.’
Perhaps he should have brought the family seal. As he hesitated slightly, a woman stepped out from among the forces.
“Sir Kaynac, I can vouch for his identity.”
Red hair fluttered in the night breeze. Johan recognized her immediately.
‘Shaferia. So she’s here after all.’
She would have moved the moment she saw the beacon of the Church. A woman who did not yield even after losing all her power. She would live upholding her convictions to the very end.
Johan felt a twinge of discomfort. The bitter feelings he’d tried to bury rose again.
Would it have been better to kill her back then? He couldn’t say. Whatever he chose, there would have been a price to pay in guilt.
He had no choice but to move forward, burden and all.
He spoke.
“Lady Shaferia. I see you’ve arrived, as expected.”
“I came as soon as I saw the beacon. But how did you get here, Sir Johan?”
The Miyatro territory was quite far from this place. Even for Shaferia, trained as she was, it had taken everything just to arrive in time. Yet Johan had arrived even earlier.
They hadn’t even crossed paths on the way. It was strange.
Johan answered,
“I was in a nearby village on personal business when the beacon went up. I couldn’t ignore it, so I came at once.”
A noble was obligated to respond to the Church’s summons.
Holy Knight Kaynac let out a soft exclamation.
“Impressive for someone so young. The Miyatro family must have a bright future.”
Shaferia made the sign of the cross.
“Saint Marziel… the Great Saint will surely recognize Sir Johan’s piety.”
Johan returned the gesture in kind.
Kaynac, seemingly satisfied, nodded and spoke.
“Lord—ah, no. That would be impolite. Your identity has been confirmed. I just have a few questions. I ask for your cooperation.”
“Of course. Please, ask anything you wish.”
Kaynac pointed toward the caged Imp.
“First, I’d like to hear an explanation about that creature. How exactly did you capture it?”
Even if it was just an Imp, a demon was a demon. An untrained civilian—especially a boy—would’ve found it difficult to subdue.
Unless he had an aura or holy power. But Kaynac felt no supernatural energy from Johan.
He was unusually mature for his age, but still just an ordinary boy. That was Kaynac’s impression of him.
Johan said,
“I was lucky. It approached me and tried to whisper temptations, but I wasn’t moved. Beyond my personal faith, the creature’s rhetoric was just plain bad.”
“Resisting temptation couldn’t have been easy. You did well. A fitting resolve for a Watcher. But… did the thing not try to use force?”
Even a small Imp was a demon—it could easily kill a young boy.
“It had already exhausted all its Miasma. After a failed hunt, it approached me in a weakened state. It was already completely worn out.”
“You’re lucky it was so inept. Things could’ve gone badly. Please make sure to travel with an escort next time. Especially in the wilds like this, there are many dangers beyond demons.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
Kaynac nodded slowly, then gestured to the troops behind him.
A man in white clerical robes stepped forward.
Kaynac asked him,
“Anything to report?”
“None. At least among the villagers, we found no trace of the White Horn.”
The Church had divided into several units to search within the sacred barrier. They were looking for the elusive White Horn, who had vanished like smoke.
Kaynac let out a deep sigh.
“If it didn’t take refuge in a human body… then where could it have gone?”
“Let’s not rush. That thing is a rat in a cage. Good news will come soon enough.”
“You’re right. It took a fatal blow from His Highness’s spear, so it shouldn’t have the strength to break the barrier. We have to capture the White Horn this time. If it truly is an Apostle, this may be our last chance.”
So the Church, too, suspected that Johan was the Thirteenth Apostle of the End.
‘Hah…’
He let out a sigh. They called him an Apostle, yet he didn’t even have the strength to break a sacred barrier. Even if he hadn’t been struck down by Gawain, Johan still wouldn’t have been able to destroy the seal.
His reputation only made the enemy stronger and more cautious—but he was still too weak.
He had to find a way to grow stronger.
The priest spoke.
“I agree. We shouldn’t rush, but a bit of urgency is warranted. We’re finished here, so we should move on.”
Kaynac nodded.
“One last thing before we go. Who is the village chief here?”
An old man stepped forward from among the villagers standing in rows.
“That would be me, milord.”
He was the old man who had cared for Johan.
“Total headcount: 41. Is that the full number of residents?”
Before the chief could reply, Johan interjected.
“There’s one more, Sir Kaynac.”
Kaynac looked at Johan.
“Where?”
“There’s a child asleep in the hut I came out of.”
Kaynac turned a heavy gaze on the village chief.
“We ordered everyone to gather.”
“T-That is…”
The chief floundered. Johan answered instead.
“He was the Imp’s first victim. He collapsed from resisting the Miasma and hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”
The chief’s face turned deathly pale. His grandson, attacked by a demon—it was something he could never have imagined.
The moment Johan finished speaking, Kaynac gestured to the priest.
The priest quickly entered the hut.
Soon, he returned and shook his head at Kaynac.
The village chief collapsed to his knees in despair.
“Ah, Great Saint! Why must you take even my grandson from me?!”
The priest spoke to Kaynac.
“There’s only a faint Miasma remaining. No trace of the White Horn.”
Then he turned to the chief with a blank expression.
“He isn’t dead. Get up.”
“H-He’s alive…?”
“He’ll wake soon. He’ll need to be questioned.”
The old man hadn’t even had time to feel joy that his grandson lived—only despair remained.
The Church’s investigations were infamous.
Torture was standard, and it was common for suspects to die mid-investigation.
Fear was natural.
The chief trembled as he spoke.
“W-What could my grandson have done to deserve an investigation?”
“There are signs of contact with a demon. He may have lent his body to one. That’s reason enough.”
If someone allowed themselves to be possessed by a demon, they could be executed on the spot. Possession was always consensual—thus, the host was deemed a seduced heretic.
And indeed, the boy had lent his body to a demon. In the end, only death awaited him.
Johan said,
“I vouch for the boy’s innocence. He resisted to the end, collapsing from exhaustion.”
“That’s not enough. A few words—”
The priest didn’t finish. The moment he met Johan’s eyes, trust swelled within him.
“If the demon had possessed him, how could I have expelled it?”
Kaynac, who had been listening, nodded.
“Ordinary methods can’t drive out a possessed demon.”
It took a formal exorcism ritual. An average person wouldn’t be able to intervene.
Johan was, by all appearances, an ordinary person—but he was clearly holding the Imp.
On the surface, it made sense to conclude that no possession had occurred.
The priest spoke.
“…Having heard both of you, I realize I was too hasty. An investigation won’t be necessary.”
“I agree.”
“Thank you for reconsidering.”
Color slowly returned to the old man’s face.
“Thank you! Thank you so much! I’ll never forget this kindness, milord!”
He bowed to Johan again and again.
Kaynac spoke.
“We’ve been delayed too long. It’s time we moved on.”
The moment he finished, the troops began to organize in perfect formation.
One soldier rushed forward and grabbed the cage holding the Imp.
Johan asked,
“You’re not executing it right away?”
The Imp clung tightly to the bars, fixing Johan with an intense gaze.
It seemed to be saying: Keep your promise if I make it out alive.
Kaynac replied.
“All demons captured inside the barrier will be interrogated first. There might be some connection to the White Horn.”
“I’m not sure, but getting a demon to talk won’t be easy.”
Surprisingly, demons were tight-lipped. Physical torture wouldn’t get them to say what you wanted.
“I’m skeptical too. But it’s the Church’s order, so we follow.”
Johan nodded. That was how soldiers were—and Holy Knights were no different.
“I hope it bears fruit.”
“So do I. Take care of yourself, and I hope we meet again.”
Just as Johan was about to reply, someone shouted loudly.
“His Highness, the Third Prince, is here!”
Instantly, the entire force dropped to one knee.
Between the huts, a man walked forward.
His purple shoulder-length hair swayed with every step.
‘Gawain!’
At the sight of him, Johan also knelt.
The slash-and-burn villagers threw themselves to the ground in panic. They couldn’t think straight. To them, royalty was something that only appeared in dreams.
Chaos erupted, but Gawain paid it no mind.
He kept muttering as he approached.
“It’s around here. It cuts off right here. Hah… I can’t figure it out. First time this has ever happened.”
He stopped in front of Kaynac.
Kaynac spoke while kneeling.
“Your Highness, you still haven’t found it?”
“Ah, Sir Kaynac. Yes. I can hear Espada crying, but I can’t pinpoint the location. It’s troubling. First time I’ve ever experienced this.”
The holy spear Espada never left its master’s hand. No matter how far it was thrown, it always returned.
But not this time.
Espada had not returned to Gawain. He couldn’t even locate it.
Kaynac said,
“We’re still searching. We’ll notify you immediately if we find it, so please don’t worry.”
“Just focus on capturing the White Horn, Sir Kaynac. I’ll handle Espada.”
With that, Gawain continued scanning the area.
“I’m sure it’s close. It cuts off right about… here. Ugh. So frustrating.”
His gaze stopped, focused on one spot.
“Wait a moment.”
He was looking down at Johan.
Gawain bent at the waist and met Johan’s eyes.
Johan spoke first.
“Johan von Miyatro, greeting His Highness, the Third Prince.”
“Have we met before?”
“I believe not, Your Highness.”
“I see. Could you stand for a moment?”
Johan rose to his feet.
Their gazes locked in midair.
After a long moment of staring, Gawain opened his mouth.