Chapter 123: Law (1)

After finishing my audience with the King, I saw a familiar face for the first time in a while.

“Saint!”

It was none other than my first follower, Mary.

Tears began to well up at the corners of her eyes.

Why was she suddenly crying?

It had been a while since we’d seen each other, but her reaction was far more intense than I’d expected.

“Y-you’re alive…”

“Of course, I’m alive.”

Mary bowed her head deeply, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks.

“Mary, what’s wrong?”

“I believed Saint would be alive! B-but…”

Mary swallowed her sobs and continued speaking.

“In my dream, you fought a giant and in the end…”

“In the end, you sacrificed yourself in place of Young Master Moritz. I had such a strange dream.”

At her words, my breath caught for a moment.

Meanwhile, Mary wiped her eyes and forced a bright smile.

“Hehe, I’m sorry. I embarrassed myself as soon as we met. To think that a Lowest-Ranked Evangelist of the Hor Church would be shaken by a mere dream.”

I shook my head at Mary, who muttered in self-mockery.

A mere dream, she said.

Not at all.

The death she saw was frighteningly accurate.

“Mary, you had a Prophetic Dream?”

In ages past, before the Grand War of Saints and Demons, there were some who experienced Prophetic Dreams.

People considered them Divine Oracles and, afterwards, those people would rise to high positions within their groups.

One of the most famous examples was a woman called the ‘Saint’ during the Grand War of Saints and Demons.

I gazed at Mary for a long moment.

Who would have thought the Mary sniffling before me had the qualities of a Saint?

“If you have strange dreams in the future, tell me about them. You can even share them when we pray.”

“About my dreams…”

“Yes. Whatever it is, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Mary nodded that she understood.

“…Thanks to Harten Count’s generosity, I was able to come to the Capital like this. Ah, Harten Count is the Lord of the territory where I serve as a missionary…”

Even on the way back to where our group was staying, Mary’s chatter didn’t stop.

She talked about the state of the lands outside the Capital, and how warmly the people welcomed the Hor Church.

Her voice was full of pride and went on for quite some time, then suddenly stopped.

Mary looked around, as if searching for someone.

“…Oh, why don’t I see Hugu the Hero? I even made a gift for him.”

“A gift?”

“Yes. Hugu the Hero is an orc, so his hair is always so messy.”

She then pulled something from her bosom.

It was a hairpin adorned with yellow flowers.

If I remembered correctly, those flowers bloomed in the Small Sword Palace Garden.

“A flower hairpin, huh. It might be a bit much for a macho fellow like Hugu…”

“Gide once said, long ago, that Hugu the Hero likes Gloria!”

Saying she was sure he’d be delighted, Mary broke into a broad smile.

“Right. That guy would wear it as a crown. He’s gone for a while for the sake of the great cause, so keep it safe for him until he returns.”

I grinned as well.

What’s the problem with a hairpin, anyway?

For Hugu, Mary’s gift would be more precious than any treasure in the world.

***

Leaving Mary behind, happily reuniting with the Temple Knights, I entered my room.

Clatter…

I heard something inside move frantically and then abruptly stop.

I didn’t even need to look to know what it was.

I took a wooden box out of my luggage and placed it on the table.

“Seems like you’re dying to come out…”

It annoyed me to keep it in my sight, but leaving it out of sight was just as unsettling.

Still, keeping it locked up wasn’t the answer.

In the end, I undid the vine binding the wooden box.

“Hey. Come out.”

I took out the White Ghost and called for Kalgos.

But that bastard didn’t show himself at all, as if he’d never moved.

Only my face was reflected in the blade’s snow-white surface.

“This is ridiculous.”

Kalgos had a natural talent for getting on people’s nerves.

“Pretending to be dead this time, huh?”

My insides seethed with irritation.

It wasn’t just anger at his mocking behavior.

Even after being decapitated, not a hint of repentance.

After killing so many people, even after death, Kalgos did nothing but repeat the same pointless tricks from within the sword.

He deserved to be buried in the deepest pit of the Demon Realm, suffering for all eternity.

Seeing him at peace in death twisted my guts.

“Damn it all…”

The Demon Realm.

The first world I ever made.

That place, unlike the will of its creator, had been tainted from the very beginning.

When I created Heaven and Earth, a crimson sky and black earth were born.

When I created life, demons came into being.

Beings I’d shaped with Light, only to have them become shadows.

So I created another world.

That was this world.

But those creatures set their sights on this world and poured out their resentment against the god who’d abandoned them.

「Do you regret creating us once again?」

A phlegm-choked voice echoed through my thoughts.

At some point, the White Ghost’s blade had turned pitch black.

Within it, Kalgos pressed his eyeball close against the blade.

「Are you saying even our very existence is a sin?」

The corner of his mouth twisted.

In his wide-open eye, I saw a mixture of murderous rage and sorrow.

「If that’s so…」

「Then, Father, you also bear the sin of creating us.」

『Before long, you’ll pay the price for it.』

With those words, he vanished again.

***

Two days later, the banquet was held.

My party and I donned formal attire and made our way to the banquet hall.

Elegant music filled the air.

A luxurious feast.

Within, nobles conversed with poise and refined gestures and voices.

“Hmmm…”

My companions, especially the Temple Knights, wore grim expressions.

They tried their best to act casual and sipped their wine, but honestly, they were no different from country youths visiting the Capital for the first time.

“There aren’t banquets like this in the Barten House.”

Gide, with his hair slicked back, chuckled quietly beside me.

He said it was the first time the knights had ever attended such a noble banquet.

“And all these eyes are on us.”

I agreed.

The stares from the nobles were intense.

Eyes that looked at us as if we were their saviors.

No matter where I turned, sharp gazes followed.

But that only lasted a short while.

“Why are the guests of honor at this gathering so stiff? Come, this way.”

“Today is a joyous day! There’s delicious food in abundance!”

York Count and other nobles approached us.

They deliberately used familiar tones, helping the Temple Knights relax.

Truly the work of skilled statesmen.

Soon, smiles appeared on my companions’ faces. Then, the King himself made his appearance in the banquet hall.

With dignified steps, he mounted the dais and surveyed the hall.

His gaze soon landed on us.

“We have lost much. And, we have gained much.”

At some point, the music had stopped.

Now, only the King’s voice echoed in the hall.

“We shall not forget. We will keep what we’ve lost in our hearts and share what we’ve gained with our neighbors.”

He beat his chest with his hand.

Thump, thump—

The nobles followed suit, wearing resolute expressions.

“Saint of Hor, and heroes of Baren.”

The nobles parted to clear a path.

We walked the open aisle to stand before the King.

“Previously, Richard said he wished for world peace.”

“That’s correct.”

“The Horu Theocracy and Baren will also lead the way to world peace. We invite you to walk that path with us.”

It was a statement heavy with meaning.

All the more so, as it was declared in such a public setting.

“…It will be my honor to do so.”

The King gazed at me for a long moment, then sat upon his throne.

The music, which had paused, resumed once more.

I slipped away from the nobles who tried to strike up conversation and found a quiet spot.

Everyone I saw was blooming with smiles.

They hadn’t been surprised by the King’s proclamation.

It seemed the matter had already been discussed beforehand.

From this moment on, Baren’s wish was for world peace.

Of course, that didn’t mean everything was resolved.

For now, things were amicable since the greatest threat had been handled, but the nobles each had ambitions of their own.

A wish is but a wish.

…There would always be those willing to do whatever it took to see it fulfilled.

If that wish strayed down the wrong path, it was Baren and its people who would suffer.

I turned to look at the King of Barentis.

‘He once asked about the distinction between good and evil.’

I still hadn’t answered that question.

The answer would come from the heavens.

Not just about good and evil, but about all the conduct expected of one who believes in Hor.

***

The dwarves bustled about on their short legs.

The packs on their backs were bigger than their bodies.

“Chief! Are you sure it’s okay for us all to go?”

“Shouldn’t we leave someone to guard the village?”

As the tribal members clamored, Hurkeum, walking ahead, frowned deeply.

“Shut up and just walk! We’re going to the Barentis Kingdom!”

They’d heard Baren’s news from Hugu.

More precisely, about the Hor Church and the being called the Light.

As if someone was after them, the clan chief pressed forward, and the other dwarves didn’t stop their grumbling.

“Will that human really be worth the price of the axe? He looked so scrawny, I doubt he could even swing it properly.”

“He’ll manage. More than that, I just don’t trust the information he gave us. A country where the Light passes down debts, he says. What nonsense… ouch!”

Bonk!

As he chattered away and looked elsewhere, a dwarf smacked into something.

Hurkeum had come up right in front of him.

“You fools!”

He exploded in anger.

His face was red as a beet, and his white beard quivered.

“C-chief? Why are you yelling all of a sudden?”

“Have you all forgotten the legend of our clan?!”

Hurkeum rummaged through his pack.

Soon, he pulled out a short, badly rusted sword.

“The Legend of the Legendary Sword that our ancestor forged!”

But for a so-called Legendary Sword, it looked utterly shabby.

The dwarves gazed at it with cold, disappointed eyes.

“So what about it? And besides, that’s a Dead Relic. We should just melt it down already.”

“You were always going on about the legend, even before you became chief! Can’t you let it go?”

Heh—heh—

Hurkeum caught his breath at his tribe’s indifferent reactions.

He clutched the chicken-like sword tightly.

“You blockheads! Do you even remember the legend?!”

The sword that the White Anvil Clan’s ancestor supposedly forged from Light itself.

Other clans now considered it nothing but an old, tiresome story, but Hurkeum still believed in the legend.

“That human said there’s someone in Baren who can wield the brilliant Light. This is our chance to make the legend come true again in our generation!”

For a Master Blacksmith, it was the dream of a lifetime.

Dwarves always produced excellent weapons, but true Masterpieces were rare.

Imagine if a sword he’d made became a legend.

“If the Light that human spoke of is really the Light from the legend, even ten hands won’t be enough! We’ll forge the greatest sword ever there! Hahaha!”