Chapter 13 - What Do You Want? (2)

Mornings were painful.

Getting up was painful, opening his eyes was painful, and if the air outside was cold, it was even worse.

"Got. What's for breakfast today?"

"Stew with some weird meat in it."

"... I feel sick now."

Vlad, who had woken looking disheveled after failing to sleep properly, realized even the morning menu would not help him and got to his feet.

"I'm not eating breakfast today."

"Going to see the priest again?"

Got, who had been about to head to the serving area with a chipped wooden bowl in hand, looked at Vlad with envious eyes.

"Should I pray too?"

"From the moment you said 'pray too,' you were already hopeless."

When Vlad pulled back the tent flap, he saw the dim light of morning beginning to brighten.

"It's cold."

It was a magnificent sight, but after camping in winter fields for about a month, it was also a sight he was getting sick of.

"I got here first!"

"Why the hell isn't our pot even boiling yet!"

It tasted bizarre and was nothing but salty, but the fact that their employer provided meals at all meant this place had excellent working conditions.

"Ahem."

Vlad passed the mercenaries squabbling over a bowl of stew and stopped in front of a tent.

That tent was smaller than the one belonging to Joseph Bayezid, the commander of the subjugation force, but instead it had a neat and orderly feel.

"Priest. I'm here."

When Vlad pulled back the tent flap, warm air came toward him from inside.

"Oh, Rhimann! Welcome. I was just about to have breakfast."

The owner of the tent, Priest Andreas, saw Vlad and welcomed him with a bright smile.

"Priest, did you sleep peacefully last night?"

"I am always at peace."

Priest Andreas personally led the man who had entered with the cold winter wind to a seat before the table.

"Sit here."

Priest Andreas told the young deacon who served him to prepare another person's share of breakfast.

"I heard you went out to pray again last night?"

"I could not sleep."

"It must have been cold."

"What does the cold matter when I am held in the Lord's embrace?"

"Ha ha! You seem more like a priest than I do."

Though Vlad was exchanging greetings with Priest Andreas, his gaze was fixed on what the young boy was carrying over.

'Wheat bread!'

And not hard black bread, but soft, white wheat bread.

They said Joseph, the commander of the subjugation force, was a devout believer, and indeed, the devotion he poured into the priest was admirable.

"Let us pray."

"I did not come to eat, but merely to offer you my morning greetings, Priest..."

"Giving thanks to God, who has given us our daily bread today as well..."

Though Vlad was saying otherwise on the surface, Priest Andreas, who was over fifty, had already seen through his shallow trick.

He merely pretended not to know despite knowing, preserving Vlad's pride.

"May we eat this food and gain strength, and strive even more in doing good works..."

Andreas quietly opened his eyes and looked at the blond man praying before him.

'Truly an excellent young man.'

Priest Andreas was a man of such renown that Joseph had bowed his head to invite him here.

His reputation did not come from sermons or connections, but from the deeds he carried out himself.

Despite being over fifty, he traveled with monster subjugations across the land, driving out wicked beings and blessing soldiers, and he was widely known not only among nobles but among commoners as well.

'To not lose faith even in the lowest place—what a beautiful sight this is.'

To Father Andreas, the existence of the man called Rhimann came as a small shock.

A young man who sought God's will at all times despite living the harsh life of a mercenary.

Among crude men, Rhimann cared for himself and always bowed his head to God, and to Andreas, his existence was like a revelation.

'This, too, must be a bond bestowed by God.'

There had been people before who had shoved their heads in, claiming to pray clumsily, but they were all people who wanted something from him.

"Eat."

"Yes, Priest."

But the man called Rhimann before him was someone who prayed even when Andreas was not there, striving to draw closer to God.

He prayed while eating, prayed while sleeping, and even prayed while fighting monsters.

Anyone could see he was sincere.

And what such a man wanted from him was merely a warm breakfast.

'He is a young man too precious to remain here.'

So he had to guide him.

This young man who would otherwise seek bloodstained battlefields until the day he died.

"Wheat bread...something this precious."

"Eat plenty."

"Yes, sir."

Seeing the humble young man grow teary-eyed in gratitude over even a single piece of bread, Priest Andreas smiled.

"By the way."

"Yes, Priest."

Vlad had been soaking bread in his soup while mocking the mercenaries outside who would be eating that bizarre stew.

"I knew your sword skills were decent, but it seems that has reached Lord Joseph's ears as well."

"Yes?"

Priest Andreas, who had been watching Vlad with a pleased smile, spoke in a bright voice.

"Yesterday, Sir Jager came to me and asked this and that about you. So I told him you were a truly faithful young man, and that I looked forward to your future."

"..."

Vlad, who had been stuffing wheat bread into his mouth until his cheeks nearly burst, froze for a moment at Priest Andreas's words.

"Yes. I recommended you."

"Oh, oooh..."

It was truly a strange reaction, but Priest Andreas mistook it for Vlad being delighted.

There were noble children even now sending him messages asking for recommendations, but Andreas did not write letters of recommendation easily.

He was an upright priest who did not compromise with the times, and he was a man who sought only God's will, to the point that he had refused the position of bishop of a certain city.

"The Bayezid Family, where Lord Joseph belongs, is a noble family of renown even in the North. Simply being able to work there would mean far better conditions than you have now."

"Th-Thank you, Priest."

Father Andreas winked at Vlad as he spoke.

But Vlad could only smile awkwardly.

GULP.

The sound of the pieces of bread packed into both his cheeks going down sounded strangely loud.

※※※※

It had not been long since breakfast with Priest Andreas had ended, yet Vlad was praying again.

"I think I went around doing things that stood out too much."

[There was no helping it. My swordsmanship can only be learned through real combat.]

Vlad had volunteered for the monster subjugation force raised in the city of Varna partly because he had nowhere to rely on right away, but it was also the result of the voice recommending it, saying there was no better place for swordsmanship training.

[Wasn't the problem that you got close to the priest?]

"I told you, I had to check."

Though it had not been intentional, after forming a connection with Priest Andreas, Vlad had something he wanted to test through him.

[Yes. Are you now certain that I am not an evil being?]

The being that had lodged itself in Vlad's soul along with the black lightning.

If the voice that said even it did not know who it was had truly originated from evil, then it was a matter Vlad had to be extremely mindful of when deciding his course from here on.

"They said Priest Andreas was so renowned and strong in holy power that he had been offered the position of bishop."

The fact that such a person had failed to recognize the identity of the voice inside his soul meant that at the very least, the voice dwelling within Vlad had not originated from evil.

"Well, I didn't get caught, so that's good enough."

Or it meant it was an evil so lofty that even a bishop-level priest could not recognize it.

In any case, meeting Priest Andreas here had been lucky in many ways.

"Should I have just dipped in and out at a reasonable point? Should I run away even now?"

[Hmm...still, with your level of skill, wouldn't they overlook something like a forged mercenary tag?]

"If they don't overlook it, they'll chop my head clean off, won't they?"

A connection with a famous priest.

And a meeting with a child of a count's family.

For a mere mercenary, all of these were strokes of good fortune he could not even dream of, but the problem was that all of it had been built on a false name.

"If they ask this and that, they'll eventually find out I even killed someone. Then it'll be identity forgery on top of murder."

[Looking at you now, you're quite atrocious.]

"You're an accomplice too."

[Hmm. It would be better to run.]

He had stood out too much.

Having always lived in the back alleys, holding his breath and hiding, Vlad might not have known it, but he was someone who drew far more attention from others than he had intended.

"Then let's bolt around this evening."

This monster subjugation mission was set to pay wages once a month.

Fortunately, he had received a month's wages a few days ago, so even if he left, there would not be much to regret.

And if he ran away with Got, who was desperate to coax him over, he would be able to have a properly forged identification tag made.

If that happened, something like this would never occur again.

The working conditions were good, so it was a shame, but now was the time to leave.

[But it will be difficult to run.]

"Why?"

While Vlad had been pretending to pray and busily thinking up ways to escape, the voice spoke to him as if troubled.

[Something is approaching from behind. Judging from its presence, it is at least an upper-level knight.]

"Huh?"

At the voice's warning, Vlad hurriedly looked back.

There stood a middle-aged man walking toward the place where he was.

"You sensed my presence? You're far more useful than I expected."

A one-eyed knight in a gleaming breastplate, with a small shield on his back.

"Lord Joseph wishes to see you."

"..."

Seeing Jager's heavy, sunken gaze, Vlad knew.

The flow from here on would be something he could not control.

'I should've just bolted yesterday.'

Inwardly, he felt ruined, but Vlad stood with a composed expression and said,

"It is an honor that Lord Joseph is looking for me."

"Did you know I would come?"

Even when driven into a corner, he had to at least pretend there was something to him.

Jorge had said that in card games, an unfaltering expression was a proper skill in its own right.

"I heard Priest Andreas recommended me. To be honest, I had been expecting this."

"Hmm."

Seeing a mercenary, young enough to be green, face him with a composed attitude, Jager narrowed the only eye he had left.

"Follow me."

And he was curious how long that confident appearance would last.

Watching Jager walk ahead, Vlad sank into thought.

'Even now?'

But when the voice soon sounded, Vlad decided to follow for now.

[Do not even think of running away. Against a knight of that level, your struggle would be nothing more than futile flailing.]

'... Damn it.'

The fact that the voice had read his mind also meant that the action he was about to take was within a predictable range.

And Jager, walking ahead of him, would have predicted at least that much as well.

No, he already had.

His left hand was resting naturally on the hilt of his sword.

'No helping it, then.'

Though he appeared confident on the outside, with the heart of a dog on a leash, Vlad stood before the largest tent erected in the encampment.

"As soon as you see Lord Joseph, bow your head."

"How long do I keep it bowed?"

"Until you are permitted to raise it."

After receiving a few simple points to be careful of before seeing Joseph, Vlad drew in a deep breath and followed Jager inside.

'This is unexpected.'

From the outside, it was large and splendid, so he had thought the inside would be the same, but in reality it was not like that at all.

A space equipped only with what was necessary, and even those things arranged without excess.

It was a sight that gave him a small glimpse of what kind of person Joseph was.

"Lord Joseph."

"Yes. You have come, Sir Jager."

When Joseph's voice came from within the tent, Vlad bowed his head as he had been taught.

He thought it was fortunate that he had to bow his head.

Because, honestly, he was nervous.

'He's too big a figure.'

He was a person Vlad would never have seen in his entire life if he had remained in the back alleys.

Joseph Bayezid, second son of Count Bayezid.

Though he had no title, within Count Bayezid's domain, he held a position like that of a prince of a kingdom.

"I finally get to see you. It is good to meet you."

"It is an honor to meet you, Lord Joseph."

Joseph's voice came from up ahead.

It did not have a manly, robust strength, but there was a strange pressure to it.

"So, have you had any inconveniences during the mission?"

"Everyone here is grateful for Lord Joseph's consideration."

Watching the mercenary answer without hesitation despite being tense, Joseph smiled.

'He seems bold.'

But whether he was truly bold was something that could only be known by testing him from now on.

"Your name is Rhimann?"

"... Yes."

"No family name?"

"That is correct."

"With blond hair and blue eyes, I thought you might be the child of some fallen noble house."

Because Vlad had lived his whole life with such misunderstandings, he could answer this question without much agitation.

"Now then, let us see. Your age this year is..."

But at Joseph's next question, he had no choice but to squeeze his eyes shut.

In the strange silence Vlad created, the atmosphere inside the tent grew heavier and heavier.

"This year... I am thirty-one."

It felt like drinking poison, but Vlad had no choice but to answer that way.

Because that was what was written on the mercenary tag.

The mercenary named Rhimann, whom he had killed with poison, had been thirty-one years old.

Among the three mercenaries lying there, he had been the youngest man, at least.

"Oh?"

At the peculiar exclamation Joseph let out, Vlad raised his head without realizing it.

A black-haired man with dark shadows under his eyes.

"Well, well, you look young for your age!"

Though he looked sickly, he hid a piercing gleam within the dark shadows under his eyes.

And that gleam was pointed precisely at Vlad.

Along with a cold sneer.