Chapter 60 - Kids These Days (1)

A woman who did not breathe.

A woman who did not touch the ground.

A being free from God and unbound by the laws of the world.

"..."

The woman closed her eyes and thought of the boy's blue eyes.

And of the soul of someone dwelling in the boy's left eye.

It was a shining soul, but the marks engraved upon it were cruel, so he had surely used one of the ancient arts.

"The old things of ages past are stretching awake."

The woman with her eyes closed thought.

The time had come.

Troubled times.

A time when cracks formed.

It was precisely in times like these that people like them, who lived on the boundary, could best make a place for themselves.

The woman had waited a long time for that moment.

"... My knights, take whichever of the things laid before you pleases you."

The woman, still with her eyes closed, pointed into the middle of the darkness with her finger and spoke.

Where the woman's fingertip pointed, there were faces of people still dripping blood.

Faces twisted in pain, faces frozen in shock, or faces stricken with terror.

The faces of House Uthman's knights were there.

"We shall impose on this land for the time being."

"Understood, Lady Rakshma."

The headless knights who had been waiting for her in silence within the darkness bowed their heads to their lord.

Baron Uthman had paid the price.

His only son returned from death, and in exchange for that, the city of Moshiam embraced darkness.

Darkness seeps in everywhere.

And it is always waiting for an opportunity.

Just like the woman who now had her eyes closed.

The night sky that approached the city of Moshiam tonight came with a slightly darker shade.

* * *

Vlad looked at the woman meeting his eyes and thought.

Now that he looked closely, her eyelashes were long.

They were eyes of the same light as Oksana's, but the feeling they painted was completely different, which made looking closely interesting.

"So you're saying you were sucked into a black hole that suddenly appeared?"

"Yes."

Justia's stiff tone and expression were reminiscent of an interrogation scene, but the way she treated the boy was considerate.

After all, while they had collapsed inside the half-ruined church, relying on a faint barrier, it was the blond boy who had faced the headless man.

It was only natural to want to give something more to a boy who had done his best.

"Explain it in more detail."

Justia asked in a stiff tone, but with her hands she stirred a sweet tea and handed it to him.

Their first meeting had been the worst, but they had crossed a battlefield like death together, so now it would be all right to call the two of them comrades-in-arms.

"So I climbed up the bell tower and destroyed the symbol. Then maybe that bastard got angry..."

With Justia's consideration giving him strength, Vlad began explaining the events of that night in detail once more.

The boy, the last witness and survivor who had faced the headless man, was the person holding an important clue to explaining this situation.

In other words, it also meant there was no definite proof that could replace the boy's testimony.

"The battle was too urgent. Just blocking the sword he swung was all I could handle."

The scene recreated through a meticulous investigation was truly惨惨.

Because there remained the traces of one person having rolled about pitifully beneath another person's violence.

The holy knights, who discovered someone's desperate struggle among the chaotically mixed footprints, applauded the boy with respect on the spot.

Because no one thought a boy who was nothing more than a squire could have overwhelmed the headless man.

"And then suddenly, some black hole appeared from the ground. Like the maw of some huge beast, it swallowed the headless man right up..."

Justia focused as she took down Vlad's testimony, which cleverly mixed truth and lies to explain the events of that day.

The boy's way with words, honed from living beside whores who made their living with their tongues, was fairly convincing.

"And then he disappeared. I may not be very old, but it was the strangest sight I had ever seen in my life."

"Hmm."

Justia fell into thought as she listened to Vlad's testimony, which sounded like rambling yet had everything it needed.

"Ah! And I think he called some name, too."

"What name? What kind of name?"

Thirsting for even the smallest clue, Justia widened her eyes and looked at the boy, who was clutching at his head to remember.

"Ah, I can't remember. My head's all foggy."

"Wait. Perhaps eating something will help you remember."

Justia quickly picked up a nearby fruit and began peeling it at speed.

In some ways, she showed not a single opening to dig into, yet seeing how utterly innocent she was in moments like this, Vlad could not help making a subtle expression.

"Lama... what was it again. Lamash?"

"Lamashtu?"

"Ah, yes. I think he said Lamashtu."

At Vlad's words, Justia suddenly stopped moving with a hardened face.

Perhaps strength was entering her hand without her realizing it, because deep handprints were gradually forming on the fruit she held.

"... I see. Thank you for your cooperation."

Justia set down the fruit she had been peeling and rose from her seat.

"San Rosino will not forget the desperate fight you put up that day."

"... Yes."

"Rest."

After spitting out only what she had to say, Justia hurried away, and Vlad could only sit there with a blank expression.

Then again, she showed decisiveness in these aspects too, so Vlad truly could not get a grasp on what kind of person Justia was.

Still, it was a relief.

Because it had passed without incident.

["That's a relief. She did not suspect you."]

"They said even the footprints were the same size. I'd be confused too."

Here was a boy who had used common sense and prejudice as a shield to give false testimony to a faithful holy knight.

Though he had spoken lies, the information contained within them was truth, so Justia's efforts would not be in vain.

"If she was going to peel it, she should have finished peeling it before leaving."

Vlad quietly picked up the fruit Justia had left behind and bit into it in one mouthful.

"... It's salty."

The half-peeled fruit tasted like her.

* * *

The next morning.

As they saw off the party leaving the village after diligently completing every investigation, Justia and the holy knights bowed their heads.

As people close to God, they had lofty pride, but what the Soara investigation party had done in this village was certainly worthy of recognition.

Even now, there were holy knights offering the boy handshakes and telling him he had worked hard.

"We of San Rosino will not forget your courageous decision."

"... Then please put in a good word for us. The mayor I'm serving now is no ordinary stickler."

Justia could only answer Gregory's joke-like truth with silence.

As a holy knight who must always speak only truth before God, she would not be able to omit the name Gregory of Bayezid from this matter.

"Though I cannot speak falsely, I will do my utmost to consider Lord Gregory's position."

"I'd rather you just didn't say anything."

"... I apologize."

Having recovered their strength through the holy knights' divine power, the party was making its final checks while waiting for Gregory's signal to depart.

Justia's green eyes, looking at them, came to rest on one place.

There was a small flag the boy was carefully folding.

"... So Vlad had a flag."

"He is a potential prospect Bayezid has its eye on after a long time. We are handling him with care."

The holy knights nearby nodded at Gregory's words, as if it made sense.

He was a boy with that much spirit, so the potential he possessed must be extraordinary as well.

"Then we will be returning now."

"I pray that Saint Rosino's grace will be with you all."

After finishing his farewells with the holy knights, Gregory gave the signal, and Got seized the reins of the horse.

NEIGH!

The party drove off in a shabby cart instead of the carriage they had burned.

Though they had lost the carriage, in exchange they had obtained the goodwill of San Rosino of the Northern Diocese.

They did not know when they would use it, but surely they could expect help at least once later.

"Are you all right?"

"I can manage sitting."

"Tell me if it's uncomfortable. It would be troublesome if your wounds got worse for no reason."

Vlad, still weak from the aftereffects of holding the voice, planted his rear at the edge of the cart they had borrowed from the village.

The reality that he kept ending up riding carts made him rather uneasy, but since he could not ride a horse, there was nothing to be done.

"It looks nice now that the fog has lifted."

"They say it was originally a place with good sunlight. It really was all that bastard's doing."

The boy could feel a little relieved at Gregory's words.

It would be better for Anna too, to be buried in a sunny, open village than somewhere in Soara's dark back alleys.

The village that had been filled with fog.

The people who had come out to the village entrance were waving to the party leaving for Soara.

Among them, Vlad spotted the child who had given him the flower ring, and he gave a small response to the little hand waving toward him.

The boy lifted his head atop the swaying cart and looked at the sky.

The sky where white clouds drifted was filled with a vivid blue.

"Nice."

He sincerely hoped Anna would be warm here.

Receiving the blessings of the holy knights and the villagers' send-off, the party was able to return to Soara with lighter hearts than when they had come here.

* * *

The mayor's office in Soara, where clear sunlight shone.

Joseph, the master of that place, was personally pouring tea for an old man seated at the reception table.

Though he was dressed shabbily, his gaze alone was sharp and bright.

"When did you arrive here?"

"It has been some time since I arrived. About two days, I suppose."

"If you had sent word, I would have received you at once."

Watching Joseph pour tea with a neat bearing, the old man looked at him with a pleased gaze.

The child who had once been so weak he seemed about to stop breathing at any moment had grown so splendidly.

Thinking he might have had even the smallest part in this sight made the old man nothing but proud.

"The me of now is merely the lowest of the low, so how could I tell the young master to come and go?"

He was calling Joseph young master, not Mayor, but not only the person listening, even Jager beside him let it pass without a word.

The old man now drinking tea was someone qualified to call Joseph young master anytime, anywhere.

"So. Where is that fellow?"

Joseph had known since childhood that the old man had an impatient nature.

Looking at the old man, who went straight to the point before even setting down the teacup he was drinking from, Joseph answered with a generous smile.

"I sent him on a mission for a short while. I sent him to the Barony of Uthman, so we should hear from him soon."

"Oh. Already on missions despite being a squire."

Hearing Joseph's words, the old man's eyes gleamed as he nodded repeatedly.

Thinking that this one might be somewhat useful.

"In truth, before coming to Soara, I stopped by Sturma and met the Family Head. I have only one ducat left to me now, so I wanted to bring things to a close."

At the word ducat, Joseph and Jager flinched.

So that was his purpose in coming here.

"The squire brats there all had the same dull, dead-fish eyes. How could every last one of the fellows meant to bear Bayezid's name from now on be in such a state?"

Saying that young people these days had no one useful among them, the old man clicked his tongue and turned his head, this time looking at Jager as he spoke.

"Is the squire you are raising like that as well?"

"... He is better than those fellows, at least."

"Seeing as the grumbler says so much, he must be useful enough."

Jager pressed his lips tight at the old man calling him a grumbler.

But what could he do?

In the days when he had been in the prime of youth, he had shown that old man every shameful side there was to show, so he had nothing to say.

"I do hope this fellow named Vlad pleases me. If he acts arrogant while trusting only in his parents' backing like that Sovanin or whatever his name was, then even if he is the young master's squire, I will smack him once..."

"My squire has no parents."

Joseph pushed refreshments toward the old man and smiled softly.

"He is a fellow who grew up in the back alleys without parents and crawled his way up here by his own strength."

"Oh..."

Having grasped the old man's reason for coming here, Joseph was trying to stimulate his interest as much as possible and keep him rooted here.

Joseph's story, which spoke of the classic starting point of a self-made man, would surely stir the old man's nostalgia for the difficult days of old.

"You need not give him a ducat, so please teach that friend a lesson or two."

"Hmm, hmm. Well, if the young master says so much, then I suppose."

The old man chewed on the cookie Joseph had offered and stroked his beard.

Joseph turned his gaze toward the flag stuck behind the old man.

"I have not seen a single young fellow I liked among the ones I have looked at lately."

The small and worn flag, which clearly showed signs of having been handled with care, was certainly similar to the flag Joseph had handed to Vlad.

"Since the young master has asked, I will take a good look at him."

The old man strutted as he stroked his stiffly upright goatee.

On the old flag the old man had brought with him, more than ten symbols were engraved.

That flag, as old as it was worn, was the flag of one who had proven his own honor.