The Saintess opened her eyes and immediately curled up like a cat.
Though she didn’t start thrashing or panicking, her posture was full of vigilance.
Despite this, her gaze remained calm. She was a composed child.
“Where am I, who are you, and who’s the big guy?”
A quick-thinking kid, Encrid thought as he answered her questions straightforwardly.
The girl took his answers in stride, glossing over parts she didn’t understand, but reaffirming what she did grasp.
“So, a Holy Knight came, and the person who was after me is dead, which means I’m safe for now? But it could still be dangerous?”
When Encrid nodded, her next words caught him by surprise.
“Then… is it alright if we part ways? I still have something I need to do.”
It wasn’t that she was trying to run away right then and there. She seemed to understand her situation from his explanation, that if she were alone, the Order would continue to pursue her.
Encrid had already learned who she was, enough to be curious about this child’s identity.
Knowing all this, she still said such a thing.
She was a Highlander, a person of the mountains. Even so, she knew it wouldn’t be easy to escape the Order’s grasp.
Perhaps, if she returned to her mountains and held her ground, she could outlast them. Or, the Order might give up halfway. But they could just as well set the mountain on fire to catch her.
The future was unknowable.
But as for the present, it was clear that the safest place was right beside Encrid.
And yet, she wanted to part ways?
“Can I ask what you need to do?”
Encrid asked out of pure curiosity, and the girl, Seiki, answered immediately.
By now, she had relaxed a little, sitting on her rear with her hands and feet resting quietly.
“There’s someone in trouble because I escaped. Also…”
It seemed less like she was trailing off on purpose and more like she was deciding whether to continue.
“And?”
Encrid encouraged her, signaling her to go on.
“I think there might be more kids locked up, besides me.”
Seiki shared her thoughts freely.
“You’re saying you want to go back to where they kept you?”
“I didn’t know anything then, but now I know the layout and the situation inside. I don’t know why you rescued me, but I can’t just walk away after seeing all that. I’d already decided to go back once I got out and gathered my strength.”
There was no need to ask why. The answer was obvious—to save people.
The same reason Encrid had rescued her.
“I don’t think that’s right.”
Seiki added.
There was a clear sense of resolve in her voice, which made Sinar look away from Seiki and stare at Encrid.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He asked.
“I’m just admiring my fiance’s face.”
Of course, that wasn’t her reason at all.
She was probably looking at him because the little girl sounded just like he did.
Watching Seiki, Encrid’s chin moved in a slight nod.
Yes, it was wrong. And so, he couldn’t just let it go.
If Audin had been here, he would have nodded furiously, perhaps even with tears, agreeing wholeheartedly with the girl.
That was the reason he hadn’t hesitated to go knock some sense into that archbishop or whatever for his so-called mission of Order purification.
“My grandfather told me, whether I live alone or with others, to follow the path I believe is right.”
Seiki finished, her voice free of any doubt. She was entirely sincere.
It was the same path Encrid walked, so he had no reason not to help.
“You remember where it was?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go together.”
“Thank you.”
She replied, without hesitation. She knew enough about the reality of things not to refuse.
Sinar, who had been watching, remarked,
“You seem weak when it comes to women and children.”
Encrid glanced at her and answered,
“I’m definitely not weak when it comes to older women.”
“…You rascal.”
Sinar shot him a rare scowl. Since it was a more unusual expression than a smile, Encrid found it amusing and laughed.
It was a cold morning, with temperatures dropping due to a late autumn rain. Encrid spoke to the coachman.
“Let’s turn around.”
“Excuse me?”
“Back to the city.”
The coachman did as he was told without question. As they traveled back, Encrid reflected.
He’d saved the Saintess, but there was something she hadn’t had the chance to do yet.
Would it be hard? Probably not.
***
“When we get there, we’ll sneak in to rescue them.”
As the monastery came into view, Seiki shared part of her plan.
It was a reasonable, well-thought-out plan: create a distraction, rescue the captives, and then escape.
Since she’d been unconscious, Seiki didn’t know Encrid’s skill level. She had lived in the mountains, and in the eight months since leaving, she’d been trapped inside the monastery. She knew nothing of Knights.
Sinar kindly explained, having watched the girl over the past few days. She wasn’t at all displeased with her.
“Sneak in? There’s no need for that.”
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”
Seiki had seen the monks’ training routines while she was held captive. They spent every moment they could conditioning their bodies.
They were training fiends, devoting over three hours a day to physical conditioning.
There had to be over twenty of them.
Seiki hadn’t seen them all herself, but she’d estimated based on the quantity of food and other signs of people.
She was clever. She wasn’t someone who would recklessly jump into things that couldn’t be done.
Her original plan included ways to avoid the monks.
Now, that was no longer necessary.
The monastery was near the western border of Naurillia.
They had sent the carriage back and continued on foot, which hadn’t slowed them much. Encrid and Sinar were fast walkers, and so was Seiki.
Watching Seiki walk, run, and move, Encrid began to understand how she’d managed to evade capture for so long.
‘Impressive.’
It wasn’t for nothing that she was from the Highlands.
When they reached the entrance to the monastery, two rough-looking monks glared at them.
Seiki didn’t understand what they were doing, but she trusted Encrid and the Fairy, Sinar, who both radiated an aura of unshakable confidence.
So she decided to trust them and follow their lead. Encrid strode confidently to the monastery entrance.
Thick, ivy-covered wooden doors flanked by gray stone walls wrapped in vines spread out on either side.
From a distance, it looked like a place where monks spent their days making wine.
Most monasteries brewed wine, baked bread, or made soap or jam to sell.
“Who are you? This is Order land, and you can’t enter uninvited.”
The monk at the entrance asked. His arms were thick, suggesting he was more used to fighting than talking.
“A guest.”
Encrid answered without breaking his stride, moving closer to the two monks standing guard.
“We’re just going in?”
Seiki whispered from behind. Just as the two monks stretched their hands toward him, there was a whooshing sound.
Without a groan, both monks’ eyes rolled back, showing only the whites before they collapsed forward.
Encrid, almost as if performing, bent his left knee slightly and extended his arms, gently catching the two as they fell forward. The monks lay there, unconscious.
“…What did you just do?”
To her, it was nothing short of miraculous.
Sinar offered an explanation. For some reason, she seemed more talkative than usual, as if she were a little excited by the situation.
“He hit the throat and jaw. Both hands, simultaneously.”
Technically, he’d spread his fingers and struck their throats between the thumb and forefinger, silencing them, then twisted his arms to punch their jaws.
Fast, but more impressive was the control.
Neither monk had a broken jaw, both were merely knocked out.
A Knight was someone who could exceed the limits of ordinary humans.
From a regular person’s perspective, Knights could accomplish seemingly impossible feats.
The skill Encrid demonstrated was one of those feats.
“Let’s go.”
Even though this was a corrupt monastery, barging in like this was akin to declaring war on the Order.
Most people would shake their heads at this. Risking the Order’s wrath just to save a few people? Was that reasonable?
Encrid didn’t care in the slightest.
During the previous battle, he’d clearly heard Audin’s words in his ear.
“You’ll be hunted for life.”
That was what he’d said.
If he had to be hunted because of what he was doing now, so be it.
He would walk the path he believed in, the path he knew to be right.
That was how he’d always lived.
“Remarkable that you’ve survived this long.”
Sinar remarked, guessing at Encrid’s past.
Seiki just watched silently as events unfolded around her. Though she seemed quiet, she was anything but ordinary.
She was astonished, yes, but she didn’t stop there, she did her part.
She led them to where she thought her fellow captives were likely held.
“Who goes there?”
“What’s going on?”
A few more monks appeared, but it was useless.
“We’re here for a visit.”
With a casual response, Encrid’s hands and feet moved swiftly, subduing them.
Though he wasn’t in perfect condition, it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
He’d picked up a club to replace his broken sword.
One monk wielding a particularly long sword made a quick, skillful strike. In response, Encrid drew his shortsword.
With the club in his right hand and the sword in his left, he deflected the strike, crossing his hands and creating a flash.
Chiiiing!
Encrid’s sword, forged by Eitri, sliced through the monk’s blade as if expressing its wielder’s intent.
Strength, skill, and the quality of his weapon combined perfectly.
That was all it took.
The monk who had attacked him went pale.
“I surrender.”
When he admitted defeat, the others bowed their heads, and soon enough, they found the captives.
* * *
“Why did you do it, brother?”
It was a question that hardly needed an answer.
“Do you really need me to say?”
The Saintess had escaped, and he had helped her hide. Wasn’t that answer enough? That was what he meant to convey.
“Did you want to feel virtuous on your own? Does that satisfy you?”
The monk, who had been as close as a brother, gave him a bitter smile.
How should one judge such sins?
Despite his abilities, he had no right.
The punishment had been dealt.
Hot wax was dripped into his eyes and ears, as he had seen but had been blind and heard but had not listened.
The punished monk’s head had also been completely shaved. One of the militant monks in charge of the punishment sneered at him.
“All you had to do was stay silent, tsk.”
This monk was one of Shilma’s loyal followers. Hot wax dripped into his eyes, filling his ears too.
“Grrrr.”
Instead of screaming, he growled like an animal, rolling on the ground. The pain was overwhelming, eating away at his body. But his mind didn’t break.
‘Who should I hold accountable for this?’
The monk didn’t hold his tormentor accountable.
He was just doing as he was told.
Then, who was to blame?
The monk didn’t think sins needed to be judged. It was simply the next step in a journey forward.
He prayed to be given that path.
Show us a glimmer of hope before you judge us, he prayed.
One needs faith that change is possible.
Would it be possible if even one divine messenger arrived?
He wished for it.
If a messenger came and killed everyone in anger, some would see, learn, and change.
The monk turned his gaze.
There, a woman crouched against the moldy stone wall.
She was a middle-aged priestess he’d known since childhood, always skilled with needle and thread. She would no longer be able to sew as she had before.
Tomorrow, her hands would be cut off.
One of his eyes had gone blind from the wax. He could only see half the world.
In a dream, someone asked,
“Do you regret it?”
“No, I don’t. Even if everyone in the Order spat on me, it wasn’t right to just leave that child.”
The monk had intended to free Seiki and, while at it, another child imprisoned underground. But it had been impossible.
‘O Lord, send a messenger!’
Not to punish sin, but to give hope to these impoverished spirits.
“Come closer, and I’ll kill you!”
He felt someone’s hand clutch his throat in the middle of his prayer. He sensed their breath on the back of his neck as the person behind him grabbed his collar and pressed a short dagger to his throat.
The voice was familiar. One of Shilma’s lackeys, the one who had overseen his punishment.
Hoo, hoo.
He could feel the man’s labored breaths, full of confusion and fear.
Through his blurry vision, he could see the figure in the doorway.
First came his shadow, his face obscured by the light behind him.
But the light bathed him like a halo.
“If you kill me, you’ll turn the Order against you!”
The man who had breathed so fearfully now shouted.
The messenger who had come in with a halo of light spoke.
“That doesn’t matter.”
With his words, light emanated from his back and extended forward.
The monk saw it like that.
A hand rose, and the halo, which appeared as torchlight, entered his damaged eyes.
A part of that light brushed his face.
Behind him, warm liquid poured down his back.
The warmth seeped into his aching body as he lay on the cold prison floor.
Between the warmth and light, the monk asked with his blurry vision,
“Has the Lord’s messenger come?”
The messenger answered promptly.
“No. My name is Encrid, from the Border Guard. I did this out of my own will, and I won’t avoid any accountability.”
With one eye, he clearly saw the figure before him.
To the monk, he appeared like a rock, one that stood firm against any storm or wave.
In other words, not a divine messenger.
Only a hero, standing there, willing to take responsibility for his actions.
At least, to the monk, he was a hero.
A hero sent by God in place of a messenger.
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