Chapter 036
* * *
Felix visited the headquarters of the Holy Knight Order not long after Bern had been murdered.
"You wish to make a deal. A deal. A deal, huh?"
Gordon made an inscrutable expression. With his already plain features, it was extremely difficult to guess what he was thinking.
Felix, seated across from him, secretly broke out in a cold sweat.
'The only difference is their appearance; in truth, he's not much different from Bern. If anything, this one is even more cunning.'
Just getting here had required incredible caution. Felix had been terrified that Ran might ambush him at any moment.
"Did you hear, Demian? The inquisitor wishes to make a deal with a holy knight."
"...?"
There were only three people in the room.
Felix, glancing back and forth between Gordon and Demian, cleared his throat.
What he feared were Ran and Zima, not mere holy knights.
"This is a message that the late former Special Unit commander left for me alone."
"Go on."
"Sir Deputy-Commander, are you prepared to handle the dog seller?"
"I don't know what you mean, but it sounds quite rude."
"The former Special Unit commander feared the dog seller."
Felix's words were half-truth, half-lie.
It was untrue that a message was left only for him, but it was true that Bern had feared Zima.
"Let me hear what Bern supposedly confided to you alone."
"Before His Majesty returned to the capital, Bern tried to secure the Vessel for himself. I suspect you had the same plan, sir Deputy-Commander."
Demian's eyebrow twitched. This was news to him.
The hierarchy within the Holy Knight Order was strict. He was neither supposed to know nor seek to know the affairs of his superiors.
From the tenor of the meeting, Demian judged that Gordon had a good reason for keeping him here.
Demian wisely remained silent.
"Bern had a plan to join hands with you, sir Deputy-Commander, in case of emergency."
"Ha, hah. Continue."
"That is how much he judged that Zima must not be allowed to monopolize the Vessel. While the Special Unit and the Holy Knight Order at least share the same roots, Zima is an outsider, is he not?"
Gordon's lips curled into a slight smirk. Whether it was out of disbelief or piqued interest, Felix could not tell. But the die had been cast.
"I'll help you acquire the Vessel, sir Deputy-Commander. And I'll even help you absorb the Special Unit into the Holy Knight Order."
"A tempting offer, but do you really have such power?"
"I've already swayed all the inquisitors in the Special Unit. Tessa Dergagne, who's rumored to be the next commander, hasn't established her position yet. Either way, didn't you already intend to remove all the inquisitors if the Special Unit was merged? What I mean is—I've got everything prepared."
Gordon did not deny it.
All he needed were hunting dogs to find the Vessel.
His sole reason for wanting the Special Unit was that.
"Very well. Then name your price. The reason you came to make a deal."
"First, guarantee my life, sir Deputy-Commander. And—"
"And?"
"The dog seller's son, the mad dog Ran. Please eliminate him as well."
At the mention of that name, hearts pounded. Demian's hand inched toward the hilt of his sword at his waist.
Gordon slowly opened his mouth.
"Let me ask you something. Did Bern say he was certain the girl was the Vessel?"
Felix was momentarily flustered. He hadn't thought that far ahead.
But then Felix rallied.
"The late commander Bern was sure. Zima took the Vessel with him on the expedition, so there was no chance to verify, but even if she wasn't, would it matter?"
"What do you mean?"
"If Zima disappears, you alone will be left searching for the Vessel on the continent, sir Deputy-Commander."
Gordon stared intently at Felix before leaning back. A faint smile emerged. He was a murder maniac who knew how to use his head.
* * *
"Black armor suits you well, too."
Ran spoke in a mocking tone.
Demian, like Ran, wore black leather armor under a black cloak.
The two faced each other inside the church.
Once again, Ortolio stood between them, at a loss for what to do.
Boom.
Ran glanced over at the church doors opening behind Demian. A group wearing drab cloaks like Demian filtered into the church.
"W-what do you all think you're doing?!"
Ortolio shouted with all his might. Unbothered by the roar, the black-clad group formed ranks behind Demian.
"Ran."
Demian's voice was sunken low. Ran only looked back at the call.
The organ's sound stopped.
"I was happy to receive the order to kill you."
Ching!
Chak!
The black-clad group simultaneously drew their swords.
Suddenly, a woman's scream rang out. It was a devotee who had been silently playing the organ.
"In the holy church, what is the meaning of this?!"
Ortolio shouted, veins bulging in his neck. Soon, one of the group approached him and pressed a sword to his throat.
"The Lord does not remain in a church trampled by beasts."
He dragged Ortolio outside.
The elderly priest's cries echoed up to the high, arched ceiling, resonating through the whole church.
"Arm yourself, Ran."
"As you see, I am unarmed."
Blades were forbidden in Quersa. Such was the priest's virtue—not to carry weapons.
Ran had always settled for beating his opponents and taking their weapons if necessary.
"You don't ask why?"
"Because it is meaningless."
To be here, Demian had summoned countless courage, resolve, and determination.
The courage to truly recognize as an equal the man he had dismissed as a mere mercenary.
The resolve to confront it definitively with him, choosing a confined space rather than an open area.
The resolve to now deny the past days he had prided himself on walking only the righteous path.
With no attention drawn, the only place to lure Ran was the secluded church. As Demian's subordinate had said, there was no Lord in a depraved, beast-ravaged church.
He felt no guilt.
'I like it now.'
Just like that day, a wave of exhilaration welled up again. All his previous agony faded away like melting snow.
Ran spoke.
"Hear me. It is merely that my grace was too meager to heal a festering soul; it is not your lack of virtue. Nor is it from lack of sincerity, or weakness of yearning. You have done well...?"
Ran recited scripture.
The rays of light engraved on the façade of the church behind him shone like a halo.
"So, have no regrets."
Casting aside his argent armor and willingly donning black, the holy knight Demian roared.
"Raaaan—!!"
From behind Demian, more than a dozen holy knights charged at Ran.
Ran raised his clenched fists next to his face.
Bang!
Swords sliced empty air, but fists struck true.
Each time Ran twisted his body and threw a punch, black-clad holy knights were flung aside in all directions.
"Lord!"
A holy knight, out of habit, shouted as he targeted Ran's shoulder. Ran was just in the process of grabbing another holy knight to throw him down. Suddenly, Ran's eyes widened.
The blade piercing in a straight line narrowly missed.
"By the power of Light!"
The holy knight who had been in Ran's grasp did not lose the opportunity. He quickly righted himself and, with both hands, locked Ran in a tight grip around the arm and waist.
For a brief moment, Ran drove his elbow into the man's lower back several times.
The holy knight, coughing blood, stubbornly refused to let go.
"With the might of Saint Michael!"
Another holy knight, invoking the angel of combat, swung his sword at Ran's neck.
This time, it was a complete blind spot.
"Kuh!"
Ran bent his head back. The blade sliced past his pointed nose.
By snapping his head back into position, Ran used the momentum to toss away the two holy knights clinging close.
'Is that really all, Ran?'
Demian watched the fight from behind.
He did not intend to be a mere bystander. Acknowledging his foe's strength, he wanted to wear him down and finish the job himself.
Ran's stamina was draining far faster than expected.
"Huff, huff."
Ran breathed heavily, taking a step back from the holy knights.
It had only been a brief exchange, but the inside of the church was already a battlefield. The pews nearby had all been knocked over or broken, their remains scattered across the floor.
Meanwhile, the holy knights were getting up one by one.
'What are you so afraid of, Cyrano?'
Ran questioned himself.
Could he truly swing a blade inside a church? Had he ever imagined staining the place with someone's blood?
He felt the Uru pendant in his coat's inside pocket.
Before he was even resolved, his body moved first.
He picked up the sword of a holy knight who had fallen unconscious.
Ran raised the blade to cover his face. His single visible eye shone icily.
"Inquisitor Ran. From this moment, as the agent of divine punishment, I will execute the most heinous heretics."
Ran shot forward like an arrow.
The holy knights standing idly failed to see the white light on Ran's blade.
The first strike: from lower right to upper left.
Slash—!
At last, drops of blood flew. An arm soared through the air.
Lowering his stance, Ran spun around. In the sharp arc of his spinning blade, three bodies were simultaneously torn asunder.
"Ugh, ahh?!"
Holy knights were trained over and over in coordinated tactics. Such was tradition, to prepare for fighting beasts. The first thing they learned was never to succumb to fear.
Their battle shouts bordered on terrified screams as their swords struck only air.
Splaash—!
A fountain of blood erupted. Blood spattered on the stained glass, glinting in many colors before falling dark crimson to the floor.
'I can see it?!'
Demian felt a shock. He could see Ran's movements.
He had watched from close behind as Ran and Zima fought against wraiths. Every motion was imprinted on his mind. Ever since returning from the expedition, Demian had been unable to escape those memories.
The problem was that he had to accept the vast gulf between himself and them.
'Ecstasy.'
The more it was so, the more often he recalled the ecstasy he had felt when he killed Hank the Barbarian. That comforted him.
'... Now I understand.'
What had made the holy knight Demian grow was not faith or nobility, but an obsession with blood and madness.
"I am—"
Ching!
Demian drew his sword. White light blazed from the blade, with a single indigo streak winding around it like a serpent.
"—merely a swordsman."
He strode toward Ran.
Ran also looked at Demian. Amid the fallen and shattered bodies, the indigo light shimmered ominously.
Klang—!
Ran and Demian's swords clashed.
The collision of their two auras sent a tremendous echo through the church. The entire place trembled, and their visions wavered slightly.
Crash!
All the stained glass windows lining the ceiling and walls shattered in unison. Countless shards rained through the air.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
The church really is corrupt.
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】