Chapter 185 - Damn Reincarnation

The Cathedral

Eugene gave Hemoria a sidelong look. She did not avert her gaze. Instead, she deliberately acknowledged it. Her thick-soled combat boot struck the floor with a heavy footfall.

THUD!

Silence followed. Even the Blood Cross knight who had entered with Hemoria said nothing. He stood behind her, making it look as though she outranked him.

'They belong to different organizations, but perhaps that doesn't matter within the larger hierarchy.'

Was she still observing her vow of silence? Just as he was wondering that, Kristina rose.

"... Inquisitor Hemoria. I was not informed that you would be meeting us."

Only then did Hemoria respond. Rather than speak, she moved both hands to sign.

Eugene did not know sign language. Nor did he intend to learn it. It might have been different if he had someone else to use it with, but right now, the only person he could put it to use with was Hemoria, who kept grinding her teeth. He neither saw her often nor had any deep connection with her. Why waste his precious time learning sign language for her?

"Do you know sign language?"

"... I do."

"What's she saying?"

"She says she came on Cardinal Rogeris's orders. The decision was made today, so there was no opportunity to notify us. She asks for our understanding."

"Hmm."

Kristina was a candidate for sainthood, and in a few days, she would formally become a saint. There was nothing strange about holy knights coming to meet and escort her, but the inquisitors among them somehow seemed suspicious.

"... Fine."

Eugene uncrossed his legs and rose from his seat.

"I don't like that grinding noise you make, and you picking a fight with me and giving me shit last time was pretty fucking obnoxious. But I punched you in the gut a bunch of times, slapped you around, and kicked you too, didn't I? So let's be nice and put all those shitty feelings we had about each other behind us."

What on earth was he talking about now? Kristina stared at Eugene in surprise. She had heard that Inquisitors Hemoria and Atarax had met him at Black Lion Castle, but this was the first she had heard about a fight.

It was hardly pleasant to hear. As far as Hemoria was concerned, she had not picked a fight with Eugene back then. She had merely done what an inquisitor ought to do.

Maleficarum were faithful servants of the Light, God's hammer that passed judgment upon all heresy and darkness. All were equal before Maleficarum's tribunal. In this day and age, most of those hunted by inquisitors were not black mages, but believers who had strayed from the faith.

Even the Hero could not escape standing before Maleficarum's tribunal. Indeed, precisely because he was the Hero, he had to be tested against stricter standards than anyone else. Eugene Lionheart. Was he truly worthy of being the Holy Sword's master? Was his ability to hold it and summon its light merely due to the exceptional blood passed down from his ancestor?

She had harbored doubts, so she had tested him. Naturally, she had been obliged to. And she had acknowledged him. Eugene Lionheart was indeed a monster, and worthy of being called the Hero.

The words Eugene had abruptly greeted her with upon her entering the aisle lingered in her mind.

... She was not refraining from grinding her teeth because she feared being beaten. Fear? She had overcome that long ago, as an apprentice before becoming an inquisitor. She had endured horrible pain that could not even be compared to Eugene's beating, and witnessed horrible things.

She had not come to provoke him or fight. That was why Hemoria suppressed her urge to grind her teeth. Instead, she signed to Eugene.

"Don't interpret."

Kristina, standing beside him, had been about to speak. Eugene stopped her before she could, then stared quietly at Hemoria's complicated signs.

"All right."

Eugene slowly nodded.

"I don't know much sign language, but I can at least give you an answer."

Again, Eugene did not know sign language. But there was one sign he knew well and had made good use of since his previous life.

"..."

Hemoria's eyes twitched. Faced with two proudly raised middle fingers, she struggled to decide how to react. Ordinarily, she would have at least ground her teeth to show her displeasure...

"That answers you, right?"

Eugene grinned, feeling satisfied. This was a highly versatile sign that could be used in any situation or conversation. It was exceedingly simple, requiring only a single raised finger, and its meaning was broad.

In the end, Hemoria stopped signing and gave Kristina a pointed look. That alone was enough. Outside the window stood the assembled Blood Cross knights and Maleficarum inquisitors. Kristina let out a brief sigh and nodded.

"Understood."

Only upon hearing her answer did Hemoria and the holy knight turn away.

"... Sir Eugene. It seems I must go ahead to the Spring of Light."

"Weren't you going there tomorrow?"

"... Given the nature of the ritual, they say a little more preparation is required. Isn't it better to prepare early and finish than to take our time and be late?"

"Kristina."

Eugene called her name.

"If you don't want to go, can't you just stay?"

"... What are you talking about?"

Kristina smiled calmly.

"I am merely a candidate for sainthood, and now I will formally become a saint. I will prove it, proclaim it to the world, and be recognized by everyone as a saint. ... The only thing I feel about this is the weight of responsibility. Not once have I thought that I did not want it."

With that, Kristina stepped forward and passed Eugene. He watched her back as she walked ahead. Her shoulders were not trembling, nor were her fists clenched... There was no sign of anything like that. Her back was resolute.

That was how it looked.

"Thank you for making the long journey."

The voice reached them as soon as they stepped off the train. Eugene remembered it too. Atarax, the Maleficarum inquisitor and Hemoria's master, removed his military cap and approached Eugene and Kristina.

"I hope my disciple conveyed the message properly."

"If you really wanted it conveyed properly, you'd have sent someone else instead of her, who can't talk and does nothing but sign."

"Ah... You have a point. My apologies. I thought only of Lady Kristina's proficiency in sign language."

Atarax bowed his head.

"Allow me to explain now, then. Lady Kristina, candidate for sainthood. You will proceed to the Spring of Light under the escort of the Blood Cross Knights and Maleficarum. And Sir Eugene Lionheart, you will accompany Hemoria and me to Trechia Cathedral."

"Is there some reason I can't go to the Spring of Light?"

"Protocol and tradition... Things of that nature. As a Lionheart, I'm sure you understand."

"Not particularly. Ever since I was a kid, I've thought all the Lionheart traditions were garbage."

Atarax laughed and put his military cap back on. Saying it served no purpose. Once they had drawn the line with protocol and tradition, Eugene, an outsider, had no room to interfere. He was dealing with the Holy Empire, which had endured that way for a very long time.

"Allow us to escort you."

The Blood Cross knights approached Kristina. Without looking back at Eugene, she went straight toward them.

He kept his gaze on her receding back.

The knights moved. There were dozens of them, yet their footsteps remained perfectly in unison. Yuras's Blood Cross Knights were invariably mentioned whenever the continent's greatest knightly order was discussed. Their commander, the Crusader, apparently had not come, but their disciplined movements held a nobility and steadfastness distinct from Kiel's White Dragon Knights.

Maleficarum inquisitors joined the circle forming around her. The assembled group completely concealed Kristina from view.

"... May we depart as well?"

Atarax asked with a smile.

A carriage awaited them outside the station. Beyond it lay a city so brightly lit that it scarcely seemed to be night. As though desperate to proclaim that this was a diocese governed by a cardinal, religious statues stood in the station, in the square before it, and even throughout the city.

Trechia Cathedral was beautiful and imposing enough to be visible from this distance. Eugene looked at its towering cross and the spires standing around it. It looked more like a castle than a cathedral.

"Are we going straight to the cathedral?"

"Is there somewhere else you would like to stop?"

Atarax asked from the seat opposite him. Only Eugene, Mer, and Atarax were inside the carriage. Hemoria sat outside on the driver's seat.

"This is my first time in Yuras. Could you recommend any sights worth seeing in this city?"

"It is difficult to know what to recommend to you, Sir Eugene, when you are not a believer in the Light. Ah, why not take this opportunity to embrace the faith of Light?"

"I'll pass."

"It is rather strange for the Hero to have no faith..."

"Unfortunately, the Kiel Empire, where I live, guarantees freedom of religion. If our great ancestor had established his family in Yuras, I would worship the God of Light too... Ah, don't misunderstand. That doesn't mean I harbor any disrespect toward the God of Light."

Eugene continued, turning his gaze away from the window. At his words, Mer, seated beside him, looked back and forth between him and Atarax. She was worried things might turn violent.

"... Faith need not always be outwardly expressed. Reading scripture, offering prayers, worshipping God—all these things are merely extensions of faith. Simply acknowledging God's existence in your heart and believing in him without doubt is itself a small measure of faith, Sir Eugene."

"I didn't come here to listen to that sort of talk."

Eugene had no intention of being ambiguous about his position. He was sick of talk about faith; it was nothing but a nuisance. The believers in the Light, in particular, had been persistent and relentless even three hundred years ago, and utterly unreasonable in their arguments.

"If all the sights you want to recommend have to do with religion, let's just keep going. Honestly, I'd rather stay at some inn on the street than in that beautiful cathedral."

The conversation ended there. Atarax had no desire to force his own faith upon Eugene. His and Hemoria's orders were to bring Eugene to Cardinal Rogeris at Trechia Cathedral. Afterward, the two would immediately proceed to the Spring of Light and join the forces there.

Frustrating questions circled through his mind. Eugene loathed situations like this. And it was not merely the situation. The Holy Empire itself had been stifling and suspicious three hundred years ago. In his previous life, he had never had any direct involvement with it, but things were different in this life.

It was all because of this damned Holy Sword and the title of Hero. Conscious of the Holy Sword inside his cloak, Eugene grimaced.

'... No. Perhaps it depends on how I use them.'

The Spring of Light was not known to the public. But Eugene had learned that it existed in the Trechian diocese, and he also knew that Anise had regularly been baptized in it three hundred years ago.

Trechia Cathedral was an old building that had existed since three hundred years ago. Perhaps there was something connected to Anise there.

If he found it, he might be able to discover something about Anise using Akasha's Word magic.

* * *

He had tried it on the Holy Sword before.

It had not gone well. Whereas the Moonlight Sword had projected darkness that swallowed his mind whole and shook it, the Holy Sword had projected nothing but dazzling light. He had not experienced the confusion that made him feel as though his mind were collapsing, as with the Moonlight Sword, nor had anyone else intervened as the Demon King of Incarceration had.

It had simply been blinding. Even after he kept the magic active for quite some time, that sensation did not change. He had thought it might project the heaven Anise had spoken of so often... or the God of Light. No, perhaps Vermouth. Or, failing that, Lionheart's Treasury, where it had been kept for hundreds of years, or even the innermost chamber of the Holy See, where it was said to have stood before then.

The Holy Sword had shown Eugene nothing but brilliant light. Frankly, he had been disappointed, but he had also felt there was nothing to be done. The light he had seen was so bright that not a speck of darkness could exist within it, and it had felt sacred enough to stir something even in Eugene, who possessed not the slightest scrap of faith.

Trechia Cathedral.

This place, too, was filled with light, in imitation of the god it served.

The central nave was vast and majestic. The wall ahead was a dazzling display of the finest glasswork, and brilliant light stretched from it to the floor like a massive pillar.

High on the glass wall pouring out that light hung a white cross. Even amid the radiance, that pure white cross retained its shape.

And not only the cross. A little below it were various figures that neither blurred in the light nor cast shadows. Angels spread their wings, singing and dancing. Beneath them, saints sprouted wings and ascended as angels. Believers offered prayers.

Eugene gazed up at the pillar of light for a while. A devout believer might have felt overwhelmed with emotion at that light and the sight of believers becoming saints and saints becoming angels. Eugene could not feel such emotion. He did, however, think that if this was a display meant to enthrall the faithful, it was exceedingly well done.

"That is not the face of a man overflowing with faith."

A voice came from behind him. It was somewhat startling. His senses were keen enough, and he had no reason to dull them. The sanctuary was large enough to easily hold tens of thousands, but Eugene had been its only occupant.

Until that voice spoke. Eugene composed himself and turned around.

White vestments worn over a black cassock. A white cross necklace hung motionless at the center of the black cassock underneath, and the red cloth draped over his left shoulder and down below his chest bore the emblem of a cardinal of the faith of Light.

Sergio Rogeris. He was a middle-aged man with a benevolent face. Yet he possessed little of a clergyman's gentleness. The body concealed beneath his clerical garments looked lean and firm, and the gleam in his smiling eyes was as clear as the light itself.

It was only natural that Eugene should get that impression. The notion that clergy merely stayed in the rear reciting prayers and casting healing magic was a prejudice. Anise herself had been adept at swinging a mace on the battlefield and smashing demons' skulls, and Kristina had said she was proficient with a flail.

Not all clergy were alike. Before becoming a cardinal, Sergio Rogeris had been a high-ranking inquisitor in Maleficarum, the bureau of inquisition—a monk who had not been ordained as a holy knight. Had Sergio not become a cardinal, he would have become Maleficarum's director.

"I am grateful for this meeting."

Sergio stood at the far end of the sanctuary. Yet Eugene heard his voice as clearly as if he were right beside him. A cardinal of Yuras possessed divine power among the greatest of its countless clergy. And if he had been considered as the next director of the inquisition, he would be well accustomed to combat.

'And to dirty work.'

Sergio's face was filled with a compassionate smile, but quite apart from that, his former position did not leave Eugene with a favorable impression. Had inquisitors been mobilized alongside holy knights for this ritual... because the ritual was special? Or had Sergio summoned them personally?

"What are you grateful for?"

"I never imagined that I would meet the Hero in my lifetime. Sir Eugene Lionheart. Before your appearance, the Hero was the Great Vermouth of three hundred years ago, and before him, there was no such thing as a Hero."

Slowly, Sergio approached. He exuded none of the oppressive pressure characteristic of the powerful. Yet Eugene knew well that such a quiet, unassuming presence was precisely the mark of someone strong enough to be troublesome to face. One step, then another. Even in that calm stride, it was difficult to find an opening.

'He's strong. And considering what makes monks different... Troublesome. Very troublesome.'

Eugene had never fought against divine magic, but he knew well how difficult it was to deal with. Unlike ordinary magic, its formulas and mana were not clearly defined. Faith and divine power were nebulous forces, allowing far too broad a range of unexpected possibilities.

"... May I ask a favor?"

Sergio stopped before closing the distance between them completely. He spoke politely and bowed his head.

"May I confirm with my own eyes that you are indeed the Hero, Sir Eugene?"

Instead of replying, Eugene lifted his cloak. He grasped the hilt of the Holy Sword Altair within and slowly drew it. At the unmistakable sight of the Holy Sword in Eugene's hand, Sergio's eyes filled with emotion. He clasped his hands together and gazed at the Holy Sword Eugene held aloft.

It felt as though his hand were being drawn in.

Startled, Eugene looked at Altair's blade. Though he had done nothing to cause it, the blade was vibrating faintly. Then it began to shine ever brighter.

"... Oh...!"

Sergio sank to his knees, his eyes trembling. The pillars of light pouring from the walls and ceiling were turning toward Eugene. At last, the light radiating from Altair met the sanctuary's pillars of light.

Light flared in a great burst.

Altair's radiance swelled enormously. They had not merely met and connected. Altair had become the source of the pillars of light. The light pouring from the walls and ceiling shattered and scattered in Altair's brilliance.

A storm of light raged. The red cloth draped over Sergio's shoulder fluttered within it. Without closing his eyes, he gazed at Eugene in the heart of the light and the Holy Sword in his hand.

Eugene could not see Sergio.

The light swirling around him was so brilliant and intense that he could not even see his own body, much less Sergio.

Within that light, Eugene caught an inexplicable smell of blood.

He saw the back of a young girl, not yet fully grown.

'... Anise?'

With that name in his mind, Eugene took a step forward. At that instant, the light subsided.

Neither the smell of blood nor the girl remained.

Eugene stood motionless for a moment, then lowered the Holy Sword.

"... O God. Thank you for this miracle."

Sergio offered a prayer without rising from his knees. Unable to say anything, Eugene stared at the Holy Sword's blade. Its trembling had ceased. It was no longer giving off light. Even the pillar of light that had enveloped Eugene had returned to its original place.

'... A miracle?'

The smell of blood.

A back covered in wounds.

'This shit?'

Eugene could not possibly think of what he had just witnessed as a miracle.