Chapter 145 - Resolve

Shaperia looked at Yohan, her gaze trembling. He was consumed by intense fury.

No, to be precise, he was pretending to be enraged.

He slammed his hand on the table.

"White Horn! That vile Demon!"

Shaperia flinched. She had never seen Yohan like this. There had to be some extraordinary reason for the normally composed boy to lose control of his emotions.

Concern written on her face, she asked, "... My lord, what on earth has happened to you?"

Yohan closed his eyes and gathered himself before speaking.

"Let me hear your story first. What did White Horn whisper to you?"

After a long hesitation, Shaperia told him what had happened several days earlier. Her expression was terribly grave as she spoke.

Yohan felt a little guilty. Everything that night had merely been an act of his, and Maphel’tan was in fact Yohan himself.

'This feels worse than I expected.'

With that strange feeling lingering, he listened closely to Shaperia's account.

No, he pretended to listen closely.

* * *

Shaperia fell silent. For a while, neither of them spoke. After another pause, she cautiously opened her mouth.

"My lord, was everything White Horn said really true?"

Beris, the Twelfth Apostle of the End, had used a contract spell to inscribe a curse upon Yohan. Yohan would meet an end far worse than death.

That was precisely what Maphel’tan had told her several days ago.

Yohan's expression twisted. He swallowed a groan.

"It is not your concern. Simply fulfill your duty. The southern frontier has yet to be cleared."

The south was teeming with petty spirits and bandits. Shaperia had not yet slain them all.

She cried out, her voice rising in agitation.

"Not my concern? I am the knight charged with protecting your life and safety!"

The outskirts of the domain were hardly the issue now. Yohan's life was in danger. As his knight, Shaperia had to change her priorities. She had to save him first.

Yohan spoke.

"There is currently no way to lift Beris's curse. Rather than waste time on a pointless endeavor, we must address the problems before us. Return to the outskirts."

Shaperia bit her lip, struggling with something. A moment later, she steeled herself and spoke.

"... It is not entirely without a solution."

Yohan looked puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"White Horn knows where the Apostle Beris is."

He stared at her.

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

Shaperia clenched both fists tightly. Her voice trembled as it escaped her lips.

"If we make use of White Horn, we should be able to slay Beris."

Yohan furrowed his brow and spoke in a low voice.

"Surely you are not suggesting I strike a bargain with a Demon, Shaperia?"

She immediately denied it.

"N-no! I only mean we should make use of White Horn! Just briefly, with him—"

She could not finish. Yohan slammed his hand hard against the table.

"I am the Watcher of the Abyss! How could I possibly compromise with evil?!"

In the midst of shouting, he suddenly began to cough. Bright red blood spilled from his mouth.

It was ordinary paint.

Shaperia sprang to her feet in horror.

"M-my lord! Are you all right?!"

That young boy had just vomited blood. His health was in a dire state. Surely this was Beris's curse at work.

So Shaperia thought.

Yohan glared at her with exhausted eyes.

"Shaperia, get out of my sight this instant. I cannot bear to look at you."

Shaperia felt utterly at a loss. Yohan was far too adamant. She had no confidence she could persuade her lord.

Her heart pounded wildly. Would that devout boy truly lose his life to a Demon's curse? Would the Great Saint truly refuse to help him?

She could accept neither possibility.

She bit her lip so hard it bled.

"My lord, please hear me out."

Yohan's eyes grew bloodshot. His voice sounded torn, as though he were swallowing blades.

"I told you to leave."

"B-but..."

Coughing up blood, he shouted, "Can you not hear me?!"

He coughed and coughed. Red liquid flowed ceaselessly from his mouth. Shaperia feared he might die then and there.

She hurried away. For now, she had to get out of his sight. That was the choice she had to make for her lord's sake.

"... I have been gravely discourteous."

Shaperia left the office at once. A thousand thoughts followed her out.

* * *

Shaperia walked and walked. Muttering like someone in a trance, she wandered the domain. Many people stared, but she paid them no heed.

She was consumed by a single question. What course would truly serve her lord?

The answer did not come easily.

The holy knight and the knight within her kept clashing. Faith and conviction fought furiously against one another. Shaperia could find no right answer.

Still agonizing, she abruptly stopped. Somehow, she had arrived before a large building. Without realizing it, she had made her way to the church.

Before her stood large but shabby, weathered doors. Out of habit, she opened them. A decrepit prayer hall came into view, and a musty smell assailed her nose.

The church in the Miyatro demesne had long been neglected. There was neither a bishop nor a parish priest here. Not even an ordinary priest remained.

For some reason, Yohan kept his distance from the Church. Why was that?

The question briefly occurred to her, then vanished. There was no room in Shaperia's mind for another concern.

She trudged into the prayer hall and seated herself at one end of a long pew.

Sitting in a prayer hall always cleared her head. Her worries would ease a little. It had been that way since childhood.

Now, it was different. Tangled thoughts still churned through her mind.

"What am I to do? O Great Saint, please grant me an answer."

She prayed to the pentagram on the dais, but no answer came. Instead, she heard another voice.

"I thought I would find you here, Dame Shaperia."

Shaperia looked back. Gaf, the captain of the guard, was entering the prayer hall.

"... Captain Gaf?"

He sat beside her.

"I was worried. You left alone in such a hurry."

Shaperia and Gaf had spent the past two months together, patrolling the southern frontier.

She bowed her head low.

"Something urgent came up unexpectedly. I apologize."

Gaf shook his head.

"Think nothing of it. The Baron gave me the broad outline."

"May I ask how much he told you?"

He answered calmly.

"If you mean the matter of White Horn and Beris, I know all of it."

Shaperia was a little surprised. There were few barriers between Yohan and Gaf. They shared most sensitive matters. The two were much closer than she had imagined.

She murmured quietly, "... I see. You knew about the Baron's situation as well."

Gaf sighed.

"I am terribly worried. I imagine you feel the same."

Shaperia buried her face in her hands.

"Honestly, I cannot think of any solution."

After a brief pause, Gaf spoke.

"When things become too complicated, it can help to focus only on what is essential. That has always helped me."

Shaperia listened closely.

"What do you mean by essential?"

Gaf gave a faint smile.

"It is simple. Focus on what lies at your core. For instance, the head of a family lives for that family, and a mercenary wields a sword for money. A holy knight destroys evil on behalf of the Great Saint. What of a knight?"

Shaperia answered without hesitation.

"A knight fights to protect the life and safety of their lord."

Gaf nodded.

"That is what I mean by essential."

Shaperia swallowed a groan.

"Those essential duties are in conflict."

A holy knight must never compromise with evil, no matter what. A knight, on the other hand, must sacrifice anything for their lord—even their own convictions.

Gaf spoke with a calm expression.

"I have been in the same situation. Some ten years ago, my duties as head of my family and my duties as a mercenary came into conflict. Foolishly, I wavered. I could make no choice at all. As a result, I lost everything. My beloved wife, my loyal men, the wealth I had spent a lifetime saving. In the end, I had nothing left."

Shaperia reflected on his words. She was in the same position he had once been in. If she failed to choose now, she too might lose everything.

"... I suppose I cannot preserve it all."

She could not have both faith and conviction. She had to forsake either the Great Saint or Yohan.

Gaf spoke.

"Wanting to keep everything was what ruined me. Please do not make the same mistake I did. Whatever you choose, you must choose decisively."

The tangle of thoughts receded in an instant. There were only two choices. She simply had to pick one.

"I will take your advice to heart, Captain Gaf. You have been an enormous help."

Gaf rose with a gentle smile.

"I am glad. I will leave you now. May you make a choice you will not regret."

He left the prayer hall. Shaperia closed her eyes.

Time passed swiftly. Her anguish and turmoil gradually receded. A single assertion filled her mind.

'I am a knight.'

She opened her eyes. Her wavering gaze had grown still. Unshakable resolve settled over her face.

Looking at the pentagram, she murmured, "O Great Saint, please watch over my chivalry."

She rose to her feet. At that very moment, her expression twisted. The air around her began to grow cold, and an oppressive presence pricked at her skin.

An eerie voice followed.

"Shaperia, your eyes have gained a fine look in these few days."

In an act of sacrilege, a pitch-black Demon sat perched upon the pentagram.

Shaperia bit her lip.

"... White Horn."

Maphel’tan gave a sinister smile.

"Yes, good to see you. How did things go with the Watcher of the Abyss?"

"My lord will not compromise with evil."

"What a pity. Such a precious life will soon be lost."

Shaperia spoke, her expression composed.

"But I am different. As a knight, I will take your hand for my lord's sake."

Maphel’tan's lips stretched into a broad smile.