Chapter 147 - The End and the Beginning (2)

When night fell, faint lamplight bloomed throughout the alleys.

The back alleys of Soara only lit their lights after the sun went down.

These days, however, day or night, the whole place blazed as if it never slept.

"Another drink over here!"

"This sausage is damn incredible."

Boisterous shouts of men were spreading throughout the back alleys.

The war was not over, but those who had returned to Soara were victors, and each of them had at least a few jingling gold coins in his pocket.

"Looks like everyone made a lot of money?"

"We did win, after all."

It was the busiest hour, but Zemina was looking down at the lobby from the fourth floor with Vlad.

They could see the employees moving busily among the noisy drunkards, but Zemina, already drained, needed even a brief rest.

"Did you make a lot of money too?"

"Knights get paid all at once at the end of the year. As a performance bonus."

Down in the lobby below, several soldiers recognized Vlad leaning on the railing and began raising their cups high.

Among the many shops in the back alleys, Rose's Smiles was especially crowded, and Vlad's presence surely played a part in that.

"Then why do you look so sour? You've been off ever since you came back from church."

"Where's Marcella? Come to think of it, I don't see her."

Avoiding Zemina, who was studying him closely, Vlad hurriedly changed the subject.

Because he knew lies never worked before the girl who had spent more time with him than anyone else in his life.

"Marcella doesn't come out to the shop much these days."

Fortunately, he succeeded in turning Zemina's attention away, but what came from her mouth was another worry.

"Why? Is she sick or something?"

"She's not sick, but..."

As if telling him to listen, Zemina came up beside Vlad, stood on tiptoe, and rested both arms on the railing.

"She says she wants to retire now. Says she's old enough for it too."

"... Ah. Right."

Hearing Zemina's concern, Vlad tilted the cup in his hand and made a bitter face.

In truth, she was probably not yet old enough to retire.

Even so, Vlad nodded without saying much because he understood well enough the hardships she had gone through.

He did not know about retirement, but it was certainly time for her to rest.

"Then what about this place?"

"..."

Vlad asked in a serious tone, but the answer he expected did not come.

Zemina, who was supposed to answer the question, simply rested her head on the railing and quietly looked at Vlad.

"Why aren't you answering when someone asks you..."

"What about me?"

The crowded shop, the loudly chattering drunkards.

Yet the only thing that reached Vlad's ears was her quiet question.

"How do I look to you? Do you think I can do it?"

The look in Zemina's eyes as she gazed up at Vlad was somehow desperate.

Zemina was asking while leaving many things unsaid, but as he met those eyes, trembling little by little, Vlad understood.

That now was the time for him to tell her.

"... Of course you can."

Beside the boy who stood in the mud and stared endlessly at a sword, there had always been a red-haired girl.

It was a sword worth five gold, an amount he could never save in his whole life, yet she had told him she would buy that mere sword for him herself.

"Compared to Marcella, you're lacking in all sorts of ways, but someone like you is more than enough.""... Hey. Are you insane?"

Watching Zemina prepare to fly into a rage, Vlad began to grin.

As expected, Zemina in motion was better to see than Zemina worrying.

He had received, so he had to return.

Because he had not yet paid her the price of the unadorned sword.

The courage and comfort he had received from the girl that day, Vlad decided to return from now on.

* * *

Last night, following the tide of night, Vlad and Haven arrived at the church with the children and soon began moving to Andreas's bishop's office under the guidance of the priest who had come out to greet them.

"Wow. They must have polished this place like crazy. I can see my face in the floor."

"Please don't gawk like a yokel, Haven."

He was telling Haven to be quiet, but Vlad's own steps as he walked through the church were just as tense.

It was only natural, since his only experience coming here, aside from when he had come for that grim trial, left him with no good memories at all.

"Sir knight. I have been waiting."

"Hm?"

When they followed the nameless priest's guidance and reached the inner area, what was waiting for Vlad there was the familiar face of a boy.

"Ah. Acolyte."

"It has been a long time. Have you been well?"

A boy who looked perhaps about the same age as Charles.

The boy, who could not have been over thirteen no matter how generously one judged, was the young acolyte who had always followed Andreas around.

"It is good to see you. I still recite the prayer you taught me morning and night."

"Oh. That prayer is not meant to be recited at those times."

The one who had helped Vlad pray for the first time at the church in Varna was this acolyte.

Vlad had never forgotten the moment he first knelt before God, but apparently there were several prayers one had to memorize.

"But it does not matter. If your sincerity is in it, God will know."

"Thank you for understanding, Acolyte."

The acolyte, who had matured a little since Vlad first saw him, now covered Vlad's mistake with a relaxed smile.

Haven's laughter from behind irritated him, but Vlad endured it as he looked at the connection he had met again after so long.

"The bishop is waiting."

"Ohh. The bishop."

The moment Haven heard the word bishop, he quickly took off his captain's hat and began neatening it.

Someone from the back alleys meeting the lofty bishop of a city.

For Haven, it was probably as moving a moment as when he first got his boat.

"How is it? Nothing on me, right?"

"... If only there were something on you, at least you could wipe it off."

Though they said that, the two quickly checked each other's clothing and began heading to the bishop's office under the acolyte's guidance.

KNOCK KNOCK.

"Bishop. Sir Vlad has arrived."

When they finally faced the bishop's office, Vlad and Haven simultaneously glanced around nearby.

Checking the way in an unfamiliar building was a habit of those from the back alleys.

But the young acolyte only smiled, thinking they looked like parrots bobbing their heads.

"Come in! Knight Vlad!"

"Please go in."

Hearing Andreas welcome him with all his might, Vlad turned the handle.

Beyond the door that opened with a creak, Andreas was waiting, beckoning to Vlad just as he had at the city gate.

"Welcome. Have you had dinner?"

"I have eaten, but I can eat again."

"Ha ha! Well, you are at that age."

Andreas's gaze as he looked at Vlad was full of warmth.

It could not be helped.

Until now, Bishop Andreas had vouched for Vlad, but the young man who had grown up had now become proof supporting Andreas's honor instead.

"And this is?"

"I am Haven. I captain a small boat, Bishop."

Perhaps because he had learned it from Vlad, the greeting seemed somewhat clumsy, but a strange light passed through Andreas's eyes as he looked at Haven.

What was visible beside his limping leg was clearly a cane, yet the man named Haven described himself as a captain.

"You did not yield even to hardships like the waves. Impressive."

"Not at all, Bishop."

As he looked at the young man from the back alleys who sailed the sea despite his disability, a smile bloomed on Andreas's face once again.

As expected, it seemed his choice to support the back alleys of Soara had not been wrong.

"Yes. Yes. Everyone, sit."

Andreas, unlike a bishop, personally guided his guests to the table and began preparing tea with practiced hands.

The young acolyte's movements as he helped him also looked skillful.

"It is noisy."

"The soup kitchen has not been finished yet, you see. We are using the church building for the time being."

Once he swallowed his tension along with a sip of tea, there was a sound he could hear.

The chattering voices were high-pitched, so they seemed to be the children from the back alleys who had arrived at the church with them.

"I have been interested in this work myself, so I would like to make a small donation..."

"Oh, oh. There is no need. Quite a lot of donations have been coming in these days."

Andreas, who had guessed Vlad's financial situation, waved his hand and burst into a hearty laugh.

He had heard from the children that they had even received blankets from Vlad, so Vlad had probably already spent money here and there.

"Since a new bishop has come, it seems everyone wanted to at least offer their greetings. To tell the truth, I disliked this sort of thing, so I never wanted to become a bishop."

To some, it was a precious goal, but to a faithful priest, it was only a bothersome burden.

Seeing Andreas say with sincerity that the donations sent by the city's powerful figures were a nuisance, Haven quickly hid the pouch of gold coins he had brought.

"Is there a reason you called me here separately?"

"... In truth, I wanted to see you as well."

Andreas, who knew Vlad's nature well, set down his teacup with a subtle expression.

The Vlad he had seen was a man who preferred speaking directly to talking around a subject.

"The Northern Orthodox Church... actually began with San Rosino. You know that too, yes?"

"I do."

The Northern Orthodox Church was a denomination that originated from San Rosino of the northern diocese.

Discrimination against the North crossed every domain, and the same was true between the Vatican and San Rosino.

"Even before, it was a pittance, but there was still support sent by the Vatican, you see. But now..."

"It has all been cut off."

Vlad felt he could understand, at least a little, why Andreas had called him here.

As he said, the simple lack of money was probably not the problem.

What the current Northern Orthodox Church lacked most was people.

"I wanted to ask a favor, but unexpectedly, it was difficult to find devout people among knights. Even here in Soara, there is no one quite like you."

With the word devout, Andreas pointed to Vlad's chest.

There, the phrase knight who protected the breaths of children, recognized by San Rosino, was engraved.

"I have received permission from Lord Joseph as well. I asked whether I might make use of you for a while."

"Use me as much as you like. Vlad of Soara began with you, Bishop."

Andreas was a priest of great reputation, but because of the nature of his abilities, he had little connection with people in special positions such as inquisitors or holy knights.

In other words, in matters requiring force, he had no choice but to seek Bayezid's cooperation.

"I knew you would say that."

As if pleased by Vlad's forthright answer, Andreas burst into laughter, and Haven, who knew nothing, also began laughing along with him.

His desperate effort to keep up with the mood was admirable.

"Then what exactly is the work?"

"First, there are things I must ask of you within Soara as well, but..."

As if he had already decided how he would use Vlad, Andreas was immediately looking at his young acolyte.

"I would like you to help that boy."

"The acolyte?"

At Andreas's wholly unexpected words, Vlad looked at the young acolyte, who was slowly putting away the tea things.

"It is almost time for him to go from acolyte to be ordained as a full priest. He must take a test for it."

Having been together for so long, Andreas treasured his young acolyte.

Since he had brought him in and practically raised him from a very young age, he was essentially no different from a son.

"Is it a test I can help with?"

"It should be. This test is not the sort where one sits down and scribbles on paper."

In the church, what they called a test also meant an ordeal.

Just as Andreas had devoted his life to exterminating monsters, true priests would set off to find ordeals of their own in order to preach God's will.

"I intend to send this child to the Barony of Uthman. Though the Vatican says it destroyed the wicked beings that were there, some darkness may yet remain."

"... The Barony of Uthman."

The Barony of Uthman and wicked beings.

Hearing Andreas's story, Vlad quietly set down his teacup and looked at the young acolyte.

"Come to think of it, you did possess an ability."

"Indeed. You heard it then too, did you not?"

As Andreas said, Vlad had certainly heard it.

The young acolyte's hymn had echoed through the fog where one could not see an inch ahead.

If not for that song he had cried out until his throat was raw, Joseph would probably have been killed by the woman who shed black tears.

"Ho ho. Relax your face. It is not as though I am asking you to go right this moment, and it should no longer be such a dangerous place."

"Yes?"

At Andreas's mild rebuke, Vlad quickly turned his head toward the mirror beside him.

His brows were deeply furrowed, and his expression was stiff.

The expression that, until just a moment ago, must have been directed at the young acolyte clearly resembled the expression he had seen in the Divine Maiden's drawing.