Chapter 126 - Are You a Heretic? (1)

The Karsem the Troublemaker Alon remembered was an arrogant brat. Not that he was inherently vicious, but his circumstances had been more than enough to make him that way.

In any case, Karsem never once showed the player any respect in the game. He might grow more friendly or fond of them as the quests progressed, but that distinctive personality never changed.

Which was why...

'... Big Brother?'

Seeing Karsem speak so politely, his eyes filled with respect, was rather disconcerting for Alon. No matter how often the player rescued him or solved his problems, he had always mouthed off at them.

Yet even as Alon thought that, Karsem said, "You really are badly injured. Of course, that is only natural after such a magnificent display of might."

Alon had no idea what had brought this on, but Karsem's eyes were positively sparkling... enough to make him uncomfortable.

"Um—"

"What is it, my lord?"

"I don't understand why you're suddenly behaving this way."

At Alon's utterly bewildered question, delivered in a flat voice, Karsem let out an "Ah," then snapped rigidly upright as though he had made up his mind.

"I have come to admire you, Marquis Pallatio."

"... All of a sudden?"

"Yes. Ever since I saw your greatness a few days ago, standing alone against the Outer Gods and that mage with his unbelievable magic, I could not help but admire you...!"

"Ah."

"To be honest, I'm ashamed to admit it, but until now I have lived entirely as I pleased."

He spoke so fervently that he even began spraying spit.

"I don't know whether you are aware, but I am far removed from the succession. That was decided when I was a child. No matter how hard I tried, Father had already chosen my older brother as his heir. So, until now, I never made any effort."

This sudden confession left Alon increasingly speechless behind his expressionless face, but Karsem did not stop—for over five minutes.

"And that is why I have come to admire you...!"

"..."

... Frankly, his confession was full of things that were painfully embarrassing to hear.

Alon could accept that he had been impressed by how spectacular the battle was. He could even understand his newfound dream of becoming a mage.

But the idea that merely watching Alon fight had awakened him to shame over the reckless life he had led after being sidelined in the royal succession... was a little harder to understand.

As Alon wondered what on earth was going on, a quiet "Ah" suddenly escaped him.

'Come to think of it, Karsem is... seventeen now... isn't he?'

Seventeen. A little late to come down with that affliction that struck sensitive fifteen-year-olds, but not too old for it.

'... A late onset of teenage delusions, then.'

Inwardly, Alon looked on him with pity. In another two or three years, Karsem would remember this detailed confession and kick his blankets so hard with embarrassment that he would tear them.

Still, there was no need to tell him that. More importantly, even if this seemed to be a case of adolescent grandiosity, Alon did not want to crush Karsem's resolve to pull himself together and work hard.

All he could do was quietly nod.

####

A week passed.

Alon's body, which might have succumbed to mana hardening, was recovering quite quickly.

["Good day, my lord!"]

["My lord! How are you feeling?!"]

["My lord! I've brought your dinner!"]

Philian, now the lord of Merkillan's territory, was certainly contributing to that recovery through his heartfelt gratitude.

["Really, you don't need to go this far—"]

["What are you saying? You saved us! This is the least we can do!"]

... He tended Alon with such devotion that it was almost overwhelming. But the real reason was a change taking place in Alon's body.

"... The mana hardening is healing?"

"Yes. When I first examined you, there was extensive mana hardening, but much of it has now disappeared."

"... Wait. Didn't you say last time that there wasn't any mana hardening?"

The priest shook his head.

"To be precise, I believe I said it was not enough to endanger your life or interfere with your use of mana."

"Did... you?"

"Yes. Once mana hardening develops, it does not disappear. That is why I warned you last time, remember? I told you to be especially careful about drinking potions from now on."

"... I do seem to recall that."

As Alon nodded, the priest continued.

"The hardening had already progressed to a certain extent. Had it become any worse, you might have lost the ability to use mana altogether."

"And now that hardening has healed?"

"Yes. Normally, once this condition develops, it cannot be treated at all. But in your case... it is healing."

Looking fascinated, the priest sent divine power into Alon's body several more times, then nodded.

"Yes, it is improving."

"... Has something happened to my body?"

"I don't believe so."

"... Then could it be because my mana reservoir is small?"

He asked in the hope that there might be some advantage to having a small mana reservoir.

"Uh... that seems even less likely. A small mana reservoir actually makes the hardening progress faster."

"... I see."

Realizing once again that this goddamn body was utterly useless from beginning to end, Alon nodded.

After the priest left, Alon murmured, "... What is going on?"

Evan shrugged.

"Well, why worry about it so much? Isn't a good thing a good thing?"

"True enough, but..."

Alon folded his arms, then let them drop when pain shot through him.

'... It feels like I have a lot more to think about.'

For over a week, his suffering from mana poisoning had prevented him from thinking properly. Now, however, he had many questions to resolve: Duke Comalon's account of "those things," the "spell formula" he had mentioned, and the matter of what lay south of the "border."

'... There are so many things to investigate.'

As he was thinking that, Evan spoke.

"Ah, my lord. There was something I needed to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I heard a little while ago that we will apparently need to leave as soon as you recover. The allied kingdoms have convened an emergency meeting, and they insist that you attend as well."

"... Attend?"

"Yes."

Alon nodded slightly. Since this incident had erupted throughout the allied kingdoms, he had expected something like this to happen, for better or worse.

"When do we have to be there?"

"It seems we need to arrive by next week."

"That's tight."

"It is."

Alon considered the tight schedule for a moment, but soon reached a decision.

"... Well, I'll have to go anyway."

About a week later, Alon had recovered enough to get around, though he still could not use magic.

"Mentor! Let's go together! I need to go too!"

"I will accompany you as well!"

Taking Seollang and Philian with him, he set out for Tern, where the allied kingdoms' emergency meeting was being held.

####

Alon reached no conclusions on the journey to Tern, but Seollang provided one unexpected piece of information.

"... You couldn't hear my conversation with Duke Comalon?"

"Right!"

"... Not just Duke Comalon's voice, but mine too?"

"That's right! I couldn't move, but my mind was perfectly clear, and I couldn't hear a thing!"

For some reason, those nearby had been unable to hear Alon's conversation with Duke Comalon. They had been aware that the two were speaking, but could not hear what they were saying at all.

'... Did the duke do something?'

Alon, of course, had done nothing at the time. More accurately, he had been unable to do anything. Though he had been better off than Seollang, who had blocked most of the attacks aimed at him, he had hardly been in any condition to take action.

But Alon soon put that thought aside. They had arrived in Tern.

Upon hearing that the meeting was in progress, he headed straight for the monarchs' conference chamber.

"You're here."

There, he found the assembled monarchs.

He saw familiar faces. First was Critenia Siyan, watching him with a relaxed expression, followed by Karmakses III, King of Coloni.

And then...

"... Let me dispense with the preliminaries and say this first."

Shtalian V, King of Ashtalon, looked steadily at Alon.

"Marquis Pallatio, thank you for stopping Duke Comalon."

He rose from his seat and bowed respectfully.

For the sovereign of a nation to bow was an extraordinary mark of respect, one not easily bestowed even upon Marquis Pallatio, who had saved the Kingdom of Ashtalon from disaster.

Shtalian V was its king. His bow was tantamount to the entire Kingdom of Ashtalon bowing to Alon.

"I merely did what needed to be done."

Alon returned the courtesy with a calm expression.

Then Shtalian V said, "Now that I have expressed my gratitude, let us turn to the questions."

"What questions?"

"Marquis Pallatio, what exactly are you?"

"... Pardon?"

That was the question Shtalian V posed.

"... I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

"Exactly what I said."

Shtalian V's expression was utterly serious.

"After this incident, I investigated you. I had already heard the rumors, but I looked into you in greater detail."

"..."

"... You have stopped Outer Gods more than three times now, haven't you? When an Outer God appeared in the north, and again when one appeared in the labyrinth city."

He continued, staring steadily at Alon.

"I am not certain, but you also stopped Outer Gods when you visited Laxas and the Holy Kingdom. As though you knew in advance that they would appear. Of course, there seem to have been occasions when that was not the case."

He added, "In short, wherever an Outer God appeared, you turned up with remarkable timing and dealt with it. Just as you did this time."

"Ultimately, there is only one thing I wish to ask."

"..."

"Why do you travel around disposing of Outer Gods?"

After hearing him out, Alon realized that Shtalian V suspected him. He also understood the question. Though phrased indirectly, it was effectively an accusation: Had Alon been involved in this incident?

Of course, there were certain leaps in his logic. He clearly was not entirely sure, either. The very fact that he was speaking so indirectly demonstrated that he had only a measure of suspicion.

'... Is this about the compensation they'll have to pay?'

Alon readily grasped why Shtalian V was casting suspicion on him.

Duke Comalon had, for all practical purposes, been established as the instigator of this incident. The Kingdom of Ashtalon was now in a position where it had to assume responsibility for the current situation, in one form or another.

For a king obliged to consider his nation's interests, there was little left to lose. He intended to probe any angle he possibly could.

To put it more plainly, his attitude was surely:

'If I throw it out there and it lands, great. If not, never mind—'

As noted, however, Shtalian V's argument contained some leaps. Since he was casting his line on suspicion alone, there were quite a few holes in it. Alon could explain those points or refute them well enough.

Yet he remained silent because...

'... What reason should I give for hunting them?'

He had no idea how to explain why he went around hunting Outer Gods.

So he could enjoy a comfortable life as a noble? It was painfully obvious that saying that now would only arouse even greater suspicion.

'What should I do?'

As he racked his brain to come up with a reasonably plausible explanation...

"Do not ask why he hunts Outer Gods."

Alon turned toward the voice that had suddenly come from behind him.

There stood...

"... The saint?"

"My apologies. I am a little late."

Yuman, the saint of Rosario, was looking at Alon with a small smile on his lips.