Chapter 93 - When That Snow Melts (1)

Was this what the mood would be like if knights defeated in war gathered together?

The priests gathered in the bishop's office all had their heads bowed and could not open their mouths, as if they themselves were defeated commanders.

"... What are the chances it can be restored?"

Still, someone had to report on the question at hand.

If they did not, Bishop Pierre's cold fury would end up bursting out.

"We will have to send it to the Vatican to know the details, but..."

The priest in white vestments, Bishop Pierre's confidant, hesitated to say it, but it could not be helped.

"I think it will be difficult."

"..."

Bishop Pierre heard the priest's answer and ran a hand down his face with a heavy groan.

Pierre was trying not to show his emotions, but even so, there was one phrase that inevitably rose from deep in his chest.

"This is absurd."

The Mirror of Saint Marello.

The Mirror of Saint Marello, a holy relic personally bestowed by the Vatican, was an object of pride to Pierre, but it had absurdly shattered.

For no other reason than that it had reflected the soul of a mere greenhorn knight.

'... What the hell is he?'

Vlad of Soara.

A knight from the back alleys.

His uncommon background and young age certainly gave him a unique character, but even so, Pierre had never imagined he would cause a miracle like this.

"Is there anyone who saw what was reflected inside his soul?"

The Mirror of Saint Marello was a mirror that reflected the soul.

If it had been an ordinary person, they would have merely looked upon their own image, but in Vlad's case, it had emitted a fierce light that was difficult to look at.

That also meant there was clearly something dwelling inside the boy.

"It is not a wicked being. If it were, there is no way we would have failed to notice."

"They say lightning struck the roof of the church. It may be a powerful being capable of affecting reality."

Bishop Pierre only fell into deeper confusion as he listened to the priests.

"... I cannot make out what it is at all."

It was an entity whose identity was difficult to gauge even for Pierre, who had spent many long years as an inquisitor.

Since it shone brightly, it likely did not belong to evil.

However, to call it God's blessing, the energy it possessed was far too sharp.

"This will have to be reported."

He could not know what it was that dwelled inside Vlad, but it certainly had enough presence to smash a holy relic.

Even if it did not belong to evil, an anomaly of this degree would surely draw the Vatican's interest.

Perhaps, since it was an entity of unknown identity, they might be able to put him on the stand once more...

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"Come in."

Pierre was pulled from his thoughts for a moment by the sound of knocking that came from beyond the door just then.

"... Bishop." "What is it?"

A priest carefully opened the door and entered under the watch of the many eyes in the office.

In his hand was a small slip of paper.

"It is a telegram sent from San Rosino."

"From San Rosino?"

At the priest's words, Pierre could not help but look puzzled.

It was rare for San Rosino, the northern diocese, to send a telegram to him, who belonged to the Vatican.

"Give it here."

For some reason, the priest's face was pale, and Pierre took the slip from his hand.

After a crisis comes opportunity.

Conversely, that also meant a crisis could come after an opportunity.

Pierre had driven Vlad into danger through a trap, but in the end, he had failed.

"San Rosino..."

Now the flow had passed from Pierre back to Joseph, and the rightful mayor of Soara did not miss the opportunity that had come to him.

"Those damned northern bastards!"

The women lying in the fog-filled village were testifying with their tears.

They testified that the man called Black Bear was someone who could never receive an indulgence.

And San Rosino accepted their tears.

-Bishop Pierre of Soara shall explain the relationship between Black Bear and the black magic users.-

The mayor of Soara and San Rosino.

An arrow shot from the North was piercing Pierre's chest coldly.

* * *

The name of the young acolyte Andreas had brought around with him was Christian.

The young boy, who had formed a connection of sorts with Vlad starting from the monster subjugation campaign in Varna, had followed Andreas, whom he served, all the way here to Soara.

"Is the priest all right?"

"He'll probably have to stay lying down a while longer."

The young acolyte was struggling to carry a large water bucket that came up to his waist.

Seeing that, Vlad felt sorry for him for no reason and carried the bucket in his place.

If not for him, the child would have been living comfortably in Varna.

"Moving around in this cold weather was already too much for him, and as soon as he arrived, he had it out with the bishop."

"... Right."

It was not only the young acolyte he felt sorry toward.

Priest Andreas was currently lying in bed, groaning.

Just as the young acolyte explained, Andreas had overexerted himself in every way a man no longer young could, so there was no way he would not fall ill.

"Is there anything you need?" "No. Lord Joseph is already taking care of everything."

The fact of owing someone a debt often brought with it complicated, subtle feelings that were difficult to explain in a single word.

And Vlad had always felt those feelings whenever he saw Andreas.

From the moment he received his name until now.

He was always nothing but grateful to Andreas.

"But is it true?" "What is?"

The eyes of the boy, who looked to be just about ten years old, were shining as he looked at Vlad.

"They say you received God's blessing?"

"... Who says that?"

Rumors were things that grew bigger the farther they spread.

Putting aside the city's influential figures who had been directly present at the trial, the pure-white clouds that had gathered over the church were one of the miracles that everyone in Soara could see.

"It's not anything that impressive."

"Really?"

Christian answered, "I see," with his words, but the expression he was actually making said, "I don't think so."

Because the young acolyte had seen it too.

The pure-white sword stroke that had cut down the nightmarish woman beneath the night sky.

"Still, he was happy."

Christian, who had arrived in front of the room where Andreas was staying, took the water bucket from Vlad and said that.

"He was happy?"

"Of course."

A young mercenary who had rolled around on the ground had become a proper knight under his guarantee.

Not only that, he was together with a being that possessed an auspicious presence, so from Andreas's perspective, it was something worth being happy about.

"Can I brag to my peers later? That I prayed together with Sir Vlad."

"... If you want to."

Though the answer was lukewarm, a big smile had already been carved across Christian's face.

He was a knight who might have received God's blessing.

Simply having a connection with such a knight would be more than enough to brag about among the young acolytes.

"See you later."

"Yeah."

He had wanted to at least greet him once, but if Andreas was laid up sick, there was nothing to be done.

Since he had come for Vlad's sake, it was only right to be as considerate as possible.

"Why would he brag about that?"

Vlad turned away from the door and scratched the back of his head for no particular reason as he recalled Christian's words.

In all his life until now, he had never been something someone could brag about.

"..."

Vlad stopped in the empty corridor and stood still, looking out the window.

There had been a voice that spoke to him as if it had been waiting whenever his surroundings grew quiet.

But now, what echoed in the empty corridor was only his own unanswered muttering.

"I can't get used to this."

If the voice had been with him now, would it have told him that it was proud of him too?

But the voice that would have answered those words had disappeared after leaving only small traces in his world.

At the feeling of being alone for the first time in a long while, Vlad merely stood still and swallowed the quiet silence.

* * *

"They say San Rosino has sent a telegram."

"That was quick."

Joseph, who had been looking out the window while holding a wineglass, gave a faint smile at Jager's report.

"Their pent-up resentment must have been quite great, no?" "Hasn't the Vatican's neglect of the northern diocese already been famous?"

The center of the continent was the central region, and the discrimination and jealousy they sent toward other regions spared no one.

Everyone knew that San Rosino, the northern diocese, was being looked down on by the Vatican in the center.

"Not bad."

The timing was good.

It was not easy to draw San Rosino's support for a political matter, but the balance of power being urgently redrawn made it possible.

An alliance between the lords of the North and San Rosino.

It was a matter that would be confirmed at the upcoming northern council, but if there was a clear opportunity like this, showing it through action in advance would not be bad for either side.

"Vordan. Take good care of Priest Andreas. If possible, I would prefer not to send him back to Varna."

"Understood."

Though they had brought him here using the boy as a pretext, Priest Andreas was someone who could pressure Bishop Pierre simply by existing.

He was a widely known priest, and it would not be strange if he soon took the office of bishop somewhere.

In Joseph's mind, the next plans regarding Pierre had already been drawn up.

"Lord Joseph. I'm here."

"Come in."

Joseph turned away from the window and looked at Vlad entering the office.

It was right after a major incident, but once he actually saw his face, the words did not come easily.

"What am I to do with you?"

"I'm sorry."

Joseph's expression as he looked at Vlad was truly complicated.

"You are always impossible to predict. From beginning to end."

"..."

Joseph was a man who preferred to bring about results through meticulous plans.

And the boy before him had a particular talent for tangling up Joseph's plans.

In terms of compatibility, the two of them were the worst, but the results they produced were always beyond expectations, so Joseph could only feel confused.

"The priest said there may be God's blessing dwelling within you."

"I don't think it is."

"It does not matter even if it is not. I will make it so."

Joseph's heavily shadowed eyes were looking at Vlad.

Propaganda and fabrication were the specialties of nobles, as well as required subjects of education.

"... Bishop Pierre and the Vatican behind him will keep their eyes on you. You did not intend it, but you interfered with their work."

Looking at Vlad, who was quietly bowing his head, Joseph let out a small sigh.

The young knight, difficult to handle and even more difficult to raise, was still giving Joseph headaches.

"Take this."

"Yes?"

Vlad fumbled to catch the pouch that suddenly flew toward him.

It was a pouch that felt heavy, along with a jingling sound.

"... This is."

"This year is coming to an end."

Along with the falling snow, one year was coming to an end.

Though it was a year ending with an accident, there had been no year in Joseph's life when he had achieved as much as this one.

In a way, it might all be said to be thanks to the boy before him.

"It is a special bonus. A reward for your achievements, not your salary."

As Vordan had said, Vlad was also being paid a special bonus.

In keeping with the ending year, Joseph settled the accounts clearly for Vlad.

"It should be more than 300 gold."

"...!"

Until just now, Vlad had been bowing his head out of remorse, but at the amount that flowed from Joseph's mouth, his eyes went round.

He did not know the details, but 300 gold was a great sum of money, enough to buy land to farm.

"Wh-why... this much."

"I included the achievements you have made since you were a squire. It is a large sum, so plan well."

The boy had always shown Joseph results beyond his expectations.

In a way, the process had been a complete mess, but the results alone had been dazzling, so Joseph had a duty to reward him accordingly.

"You are now a knight. You have the right to claim what is due for your achievements."

"Thank you!"

Joseph quietly looked at Vlad, who was thanking him with a flushed face.

It was not easy to say this while looking at that happy face, but it had to be said.

Because he was the one responsible for Vlad.

"Keep this in mind. Now that you have become a knight, you are in a position where you must bear responsibility."

One could overpower an opponent with more than weapons and force alone.

Vlad was feeling an overwhelming presence from Joseph, who stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Vlad was seventeen, and when this year passed, he would become eighteen.

The boy had to know.

That once this year passed, he could no longer remain a boy.

"Knight Vlad ignored the indulgence that carried God's will. This alone is the fault Bishop Pierre clearly established against you."

At yesterday's trial, Vlad had said with his own mouth that he killed Black Bear, who had received an indulgence.

This was a fault that even Joseph acknowledged, and Vlad had to take responsibility for it.

"To hold him responsible for that, I hereby exile knight Vlad from Soara."

"... What?"

The blue eyes facing him began to waver greatly.

Still, it could not be helped.

If even the smallest fault remained, it would leave the bishop and the Vatican a pretext.

"The period will be until I call you back."

A squire may stand behind, but a knight must stand at the front.

A boy may be forgiven, but an adult must take responsibility.

And Vlad was now at an age where he had to learn about responsibility and duty.

Outside the window, white snow was falling, covering the year.

When the time came for that snow to melt, Vlad too would be an adult, not a boy.