Chapter 152: The Inquisition (1)
After two more days passed, Eugene finally got out of bed. Although he hadn’t completely recovered, after five whole days of complete bed rest, his body had now recovered enough that he was able to move haltingly.
“Don’t you need me to give you some support?” Mer approached him with this offer.
But Eugene just shook his head and said, “Don’t need it.”
Standing in front of a mirror, Eugene dried his damp hair.
“How does it feel to have a shower after five days?” Mer asked.
Eugene just shrugged, “It feels about the same as ever?”
“After all, oil has been accumulating in your hair for five days,” Mer pointed out.
Eugene denied this with a frown, “But it hasn’t? Don’t you know I’ve been taking care of that every day by using magic?”
“Then why did you even need to take a shower?”
“Because I wanted to?”
“Yes, yes,” Mer conceded with a giggle as she dragged a chair behind Eugene’s back.
Then Mer stood on the chair and began combing Eugene’s hair. His hair, which had been wet just a few moments before, had already been dried by a warm wind blowing over it.
“It doesn’t really need to be combed,” Eugene grumbled.
“I’m doing this because I’m bored,” Mer explained. “Also, do you really think that it’s unneeded? You seem to think that unkempt hair suits you better, but I believe you would look much better with neatly combed hair.”
“Know why that is? It’s because I have a handsome face,” Eugene bragged.
“You’re so shameless…,” Mer muttered.
While Mer was combing his hair, Eugene adjusted his outfit. He was wearing the black formal dress uniform of the Lionheart clan. It was neat, without any creases, but Eugene still felt the need to fiddle with his outfit by undoing a button and then re-fastening it.
“What about your cloak?” Mer asked.
“There shouldn’t be an issue with wearing it,” Eugene replied.
With a soft smile, Mer wrapped the Cloak of Darkness around Eugene’s shoulders. After she was done, Eugene looked back up into the mirror, only to find that, for some reason, he didn’t really like the look of his cleanly combed hair.
So he casually ruffled it with his hand.
“Why would you do something like that!” Mer exclaimed, her cheeks puffing up with displeasure.
However, she didn’t stubbornly insist on any more combing and immediately slipped into the cloak when Eugene held it open for her.
“Don’t come out today unless I call you,” instructed Eugene.
“Just what do you think of me?” Mer said with a pout. “I’m not tactless enough to cause you any trouble, Sir Eugene.”
At the warp gate of the Black Lion Castle, there were so few people around that it felt strange.
This was because the welcoming of today’s visitors wasn’t something to be proud of. The ones waiting at the Warp Gate along with Eugene were Genos, who had arrived soon after Eugene, and Ciel, who had spent the most time unconscious from among the sacrifices. There was also Klein, who had been newly appointed to the Seat of the Head of the Council. Furthermore, the only one in charge of personally manning the Warp Gate was the Captain of the Sixth Division, Diard.
“The guests from Aroth will be the first to arrive,” Diard informed them.
After checking the time, Diard raised his staff.
Puff!
The Warp Gate shone as the connection was established.
Shortly afterward, the Warp Gate began to ripple. The first to walk out was Lovellian, wearing a black robe. Rather than Eugene, who was the first to meet his eyes, Lovellian approached Klein, the new Head of the Council, and extended a hand to the man.
“It’s been a long time since we last met,” Lovellian said in greeting.
“It would have been better if we could have reunited for a more pleasant affair,” Klein said with a wry smile as he shook Lovellian’s hand.
Melkith, who had followed Lovellian through the warp gate, was wearing a surprisingly ordinary outfit today. She had on a glossy, black mink coat. However, she did have leather boots that were so high that they went up to her knees and made a creaking noise with each step she took.
“Hi!” Melkith called out.
A funeral had been held just a few days ago, and with how serious the recent incident had been, the atmosphere of the castle was sunk into depression, but… Melkith didn’t care about any of that. After glancing around at her surroundings, she spotted Eugene and waved at him with a wide smile.
Melkith first addressed Ciel, “It’s been a while since we last met, hasn’t it, young lady? Do you remember me?”
“...Yes, of course,” Ciel reluctantly admitted.
“So where’s that Captain who doesn’t know how to act her age? I’m talking about the woman who kept checking the time on her pocket watch even though she was wearing a wrist watch,” Melkith elaborated.
“...Captain Carmen is currently stationed at the main estate.” Ciel eventually felt pressured to reveal the truth by the cheerfully smiling Melkith, even though she really wanted to say, ‘Who are you to accuse someone of being unable to act their own age?’
“This is my first time visiting Black Lion Castle. Is it okay if I take a little look around?” Melkith requested.
“Why don’t we save that for later,” Klein interjected. “The Patriarch should also be arriving soon.”
“Hm, well, he has it tough enough already. I’ll make sure to keep a hold of my facial expressions,” Melkith promised.
But why did she have to stick to that guy like it was only natural for her to do so? Ciel furrowed her brows as she glanced at Eugene and Melkith. Was it something similar to maternal affection? Indeed, that was certainly a possibility. Eugene couldn’t know what a mother’s love felt like. So it might be that he was getting friendly with this woman who had a mature figure, a good amount of years, and was full of motherly affection.
‘...Although rather than a mother, isn’t she more like a grandmother?’ Ciel rudely speculated.
Although she had the beautiful appearance of a twenty-year-old… Ciel didn’t allow herself to finish that thought. The moment she began to consider Melkith from that aspect, Ciel felt like she was about to have some rude thoughts about her own direct superior, Carmen Lionheart… As the Captain of the Third Division, a woman, while strong and beautiful, she left others with no choice but to respect her….
“Connection has been established with Yuras,” Diard reported.
At these words, Melkith leaned closer to Eugene and whispered, “So I’ve heard that an Inquisitor is coming? Have you ever met one before?”
“I haven’t,” Eugene replied.
“Let me just say, while I hate the Holy Empire, I hate Inquisitors even more. Do you know why?” Melkith asked.
Eugene nodded and said, “I do. It’s said that in the distant past, the Holy Empire judged spirit worship to be a type of heresy and persecuted spirit summoners, right?”
Melkith gasped, “Oh my, you’re quite knowledgeable, aren’t you? It seems that you also did a lot of study about the history of wizards?”
“But wasn’t that all a really long time ago?” Eugene pointed out.
“Well, that might be the case, but even now, they might still be secretly persecuting spirit summoners, no?” As she said this, Melkith’s eyes were filled with a cheerful playfulness.
While staring directly into her eyes, Eugene snorted and muttered, “You’re like a grandmother who enjoys frightening children by telling them scary stories….”
“Hm? What did you say? I can’t hear you very well,” Melkith lied.
While Melkith covered her ears and made an ‘Aaah’ sound to drown out any objections, the warp gate began to shine.
Two people walked out of the warp gate. Both wore robes as red as blood, and beneath those, they were wearing the jet-black uniform that all priests of the God of Light wore, with black shakos[1] on their heads.
The man in the lead introduced himself, “My name is Atarax, and I am a member of the Maleficarum. And this is Hemoria, my disciple.”
Atarax was a man with long blonde hair, but the woman, Hemoria, had shorter hair than Atarax and had covered her mouth with a black, metal mask. With her straight, bobbed hair that seemed to have been cut with a knife framing her face, Hemoria scanned her surroundings.
Although Hemoria kept her silence apart from a short grunt in greeting, Atarax spoke up as if speaking in her place, “Isn’t the Patriarch here yet?”
Klein assured him, “He’ll be arriving soon. We’ve just managed to connect to Kiehl.”
Eugene blatantly stared at both Atarax and Hemoria. The Maleficarum, that violent and ruthless branch of the Inquisition, had also been around three hundred years ago.
To be honest, Eugene didn’t harbor any misgivings toward them. What about their ruthlessness towards black wizards and demonfolk? That was precisely what Hamel had been like in Eugene’s previous life as well. In the chaotic world of three hundred years ago, the Maleficarum was also one of Hamel’s allies.
‘...But aren’t they too old-fashioned an organization for the current era?’
This was a world where you could no longer hunt black wizards indiscriminately or show open hostility towards the demon folk. So for this branch of the Inquisition, which existed for the sole purpose of doing so, to still be in existence, Eugene couldn’t help but feel surprised.
The warp gate rippled.
Eugene straightened his back as he stared at the warp gate. Shortly afterward, the Patriarch of the Lionheart clan, Gilead, passed through the warp gate. The impression Eugene got from the current Gilead was markedly different from Gilead that Eugene had met just a few months ago. The Patriarch had deeply sunken cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes. His beard was still neatly trimmed, but Eugene could see the cuts that had been left on Gilead’s cheeks and chin.
‘...For such a skilled warrior to allow himself to be cut by a razor,’ Eugene thought regretfully.
His whole frame seemed to have shrunk over the past few months. It seemed that Gilead’s mental state had been shattered by Eward’s latest incident.
“...Patriarch,” Klein let out a sigh and approached him with this greeting.
Only for Gilead to immediately fall onto his knees and say, “I am so sorry.”
Klein was startled by this sight and quickly pulled Gilead up to his feet.
“Hey now… you shouldn’t show such a pitiful appearance,” Klein chided him.
“...Do I really have any choice but to do so? All of this happened because of my own ineptitude. This, this crisis… I don’t know how to even begin to take responsibility for this…,” Gilead trailed off guiltily.
“...Let’s discuss all that later. For now, stand up straight. …Your children are watching, remember,” Klein reminded him.
Letting out a deep sigh, Klein patted Gilead on the shoulder. At this reminder, the light belatedly returned to Gilead’s darkly over-shadowed eyes. He turned to look at Ciel and Eugene.
Normally, she would have greeted her father with her smile, but the current Ciel couldn’t bring herself to do so. She quickly bowed her head towards Gilead while holding back the urge to burst into tears.
“...Haaah…!” Gilead released a relieved sigh as he approached Eugene and Ciel.
He pulled them into a tight hug and bowed his head over them.
“...I heard the full story. It’s such a relief… that you’re all okay,” Gilead murmured softly.
“...Father…,” Ciel whispered as she buried her face into her father’s chest and cried a little.
Instead of letting out any tears, Eugene glanced at the arm that Gilead had wrapped around his shoulders.
He hadn’t been mistaken when he got the feeling that Gilead’s whole body seemed to have gotten smaller. Gilead’s arms truly were thinner than they had been just a few months ago. It had only been five days since Eward’s incident had been dealt with, but it seemed that the distress Gilead had felt during these few days was enough to leave his cheeks sunken in and his arm muscles withered away.
“...Thank you, Eugene,” Gilead addressed him gratefully.
“...I only did what I should have done,” Eugene responded evasively.
“If it weren’t for you, then it would have been too late to do anything.”
“...I was just lucky. It wasn’t just my strength either.”
As he said this, Eugene glanced at the two Inquisitors from the Maleficarum — Atarax and Hemoria. They were blatantly staring at Eugene’s bare waist.
“...The Holy Sword is in safe hands,” Eugene eventually assured them.
“That’s a relief,” Atarax said with a smile as he put the shako he had taken off in greeting back on top of his head. “Well then… please lead the way. We need to see the place where that devil, Eward Lionheart, performed his forbidden, depraved, and almost calamitous ritual.”
‘That devil.’
Gilead’s eyes shook at these words. However, he wasn’t in a position to show any reaction to this accusation. Gilead just let out a short sigh and released Eugene and Ciel from his embrace.
“Please follow me,” Genos suddenly spoke up.
Genos didn’t trust the Maleficarum as a whole. But even amongst them, Atarax’s name was especially famous for having a dirty reputation attached to it, of which Genos was well aware.
‘...For the church to send the Punisher Atarax… and Guillotine Hemoria,’ Genos thoughtfully considered.
Although he had known that someone of high status would be sent due to the significance of this incident, to think that they would really send the Punisher. And his disciple, Hemoria, was just as high-ranking as Atarax was.
“What about the survivors?” Atarax brought up.
“They are all safe,” Genos reported.
“You mean that they didn’t suffer from any mental pollution?”
“Fortunately, that was the case.”
“Pollution can quickly spread from even the smallest grain. After inspecting the site of the ritual, we will interview each of the survivors individually,” Atarax declared.
“You know, your tone doesn’t sound like someone who’s asking for permission,” Genos pointed out aggressively.
“It needs to be done. You don’t want any more of your clan to fall to corruption, do you?” Atarax responded.
Klein’s expression stiffened at Atarax’s words. He glared at Atarax with an uncharacteristic hostility in his eyes. Hemoria reacted to this gaze by placing her fingers on the mask that covered her mouth and glaring back at Klein.
“We are not here to sympathize with the Lionheart clan’s unfortunate incident, nor are we here to assist in discovering the truth,” Atarax said as he raised a hand and grabbed Hemoria’s shoulder. “This incident is an unprecedented and bizarre case of the remnants of the Demon Kings, who were subjugated three hundred years ago, returning to cause chaos. In the current Maleficarum, we may not be allowed to hunt black wizards or demonfolk, but… should we discover the breaking of any taboos, particularly the committing of any crimes that involve the ‘use’ of humans, the Maleficarum will not hesitate to hunt the perpetrators, no matter who they may be.”
“...Therefore?” Klein prompted.
“We are here to do what needs to be done,” Atarax stated with determination. “As such, we will not ask for permission. Council Head, we understand that you might want to cover up your clan’s embarrassment, but… what if any seeds of the devil were to remain in the heads of the sacrifices? What if this leads to them falling into madness and one day performing the same demonic ritual that Eward did?”
“Alright, I see the necessity,” Klein reluctantly admitted as he sighed and shook his head. “...However, allow me to correct just one thing. I have no intention of covering up our clan’s embarrassment. Because if we blindly attempt to conceal it, all we will do is cause ourselves to rot from within. However, what I was concerned about is that your methods of interviewing the sacrifices might be too harsh.”
“Our interviews will be gentle and polite,” Atarax promised.
“In that case, you won’t mind me watching,” Klein requested.
Atarax conceded, “Yes, please watch as you like.”
They headed into the depths of the forest. Finding the place where the ritual had been performed wasn't difficult as several Black Lions were guarding the forest so no demonic beasts could damage the site.
“...Hm,” Melkith hummed thoughtfully.
For this entire time since they had entered the forest, Melkith had stayed focused without saying a word. She stopped walking for a few moments, then bent down and touched the soil with her hands.
“...Hm,” Melkith hummed again, her eyes narrowing.
The soil she swept her hands over trembled, and clay people[2] the size of a finger climbed out of the ground.
“...Indeed, it does seem… like there truly was a spirit of darkness…. This is quite unusual,” Melkith muttered as she patted the clay people on the head with a finger. “The spirits of this land… aren’t really in harmony with the soil here. They were pushed over from a different patch of land to this one. And over there… hmmm… the number of primal spirits is lower than it should be.”
Melkith scooped up a heap of soil with her hands. Then she spread her fingers and let the soil trickle down like grains of sand.
“Perhaps, once this season passes, there won’t even be a blade of grass left in that area? It’s quite curious…. This is… rather than the land being dead…. Hmm, that’s right… so that’s the case. It seems like the primal spirits of the land were actually transformed into spirits of darkness?” Melkith hypothesized.
“Is something like that even possible?” Eugene asked her.
“For me? Of course, it’s impossible. I don’t have any contracts with the spirits of darkness, nor do I want to make a contract with them. Even so, it's not like I need to know the spirits of darkness firsthand, no? No spirit can interfere with or obstruct other spirits of completely different elements. Even if they’re a Spirit King,” Melkith said with a chuckle as she straightened up.” So a normal spirit of darkness shouldn’t have the power to forcibly assimilate the primal spirits of another element. On top of that… didn’t you say that it was able to block the eyes and ears of the prestigious Knights of the Black Lion? Haha! That’s impossible.”
“That’s because it wasn’t just any ordinary spirit,” Eugene explained.
“Yep, that’s why it’s so curious… how intriguing,” Melkith said with excitement. “The remnants of the Demon Kings who were defeated hundred of years ago lingered on in their weapons… that much I can understand. However, for these remnants to then become spirits? There are already several papers written on the close relationship between mana and spirits, but for a Demon King to become a spirit is—”
“It could also mean that spirit worship truly is a type of heresy,” Atarax muttered.
“You’re still spouting such nonsense,” Melkith said with a snort as she raised her hands.
The clay people crawled back into the soil, causing the ground to tremble and rise. It was the wave of dirt that Melkith had shown them back in the Lionheart clan’s forest.
“For someone like you, who spouts such bullshit, you don’t deserve to ride this amazing dirt wave of mine,” Melkith declared proudly.
“Instead of doing something so embarrassing, let’s just go already,” Lovellian scolded her.
“This is it,” Eugene said as they arrived at the site where the ritual had taken place. “Over there… that’s where the ritual was held. Maybe there are a few traces of it left? A magic circle was drawn all over the ground… parts of it were also painted in the air, but those have disappeared.”
He was met with silence as the others examined the site.
“Also, there was a black… tree over there. I don’t know if it really should be called a tree, but well, it at least looked like one. The sacrifices were hung from branches that were wriggling like tentacles. And everything was swallowed up by a dark gloom,” Eugene said as he glanced at Ciel. “Since I wasn’t captured as a sacrifice, if you want to know how it felt, you’ll want to ask Ciel instead of myself. She was able to keep partly conscious even in that situation.”
“...Really now, this is…,” Lovellian muttered quietly as he looked around at the surroundings, then let out a snort. “This is even worse than I thought.”
“It was quite the horrifying ritual,” Eugene agreed.
“No, I’m not talking about the ritual,” Lovellian clarified as he lifted a finger and pointed at something. “It can even be considered fortunate for there to be only one innocent casualty.
Lovellian was pointing at the traces of the battle. He looked down at a large hole so deep it looked as if it had pierced all the way into the bedrock. Melkith also whistled as she took a look around.
“This is huge. How bad was it that there aren’t even any spirits in the ground?” Melkith marveled.
“How terrible,” Atarax growled as he narrowed his eyes and raised a hand.
He ‘grabbed’ at the air with his white-gloved fingers and rubbed his fingers together. After doing so, his gloves were instantly dyed black.
“...To think that I would be able to see such vicious, ominous demonic power in a place outside of the Devildom…,” Atarax muttered.
“Five days ago, it was even worse than it is now,” Eugene spoke casually, then flinched and held his cloak open. “...Without the power of the Holy Sword and Akasha, I also wouldn’t have been able to survive.”
Although he had already received quite a lot of attention, Eugene didn’t want to attract even more attention and suspicion from these outsiders.
So he took out the Holy Sword and Akasha and showed them to the group. Akasha didn’t receive much attention, but everyone’s eyes shone as they looked at the Holy Sword that Eugene was holding in his hands. They couldn’t help but do so. This Holy Sword was part of the Great Vermouth’s legend and was said to be the legendary sword that had cut down three Demon Kings. After Vermouth had passed, only the Patriarch had been able to carry the Holy Sword during family ceremonies, and not a single person had been recognized by the Holy Sword as its master.
“...Whoah…,” Atarax breathed out in awe as he, too, looked at the Holy Sword with admiring eyes.
Hemoria, who hadn’t uttered a single word so far, also stared at the Holy Sword with alarmed eyes.
Atarax muttered, “...It’s really Altair…!”
“Yes, that’s right,” Eugene confirmed.
“At first, I thought that the report was wrong… but to think that a new master of Altair has truly been found…!” Atarax exclaimed in amazement.
Eugene began to say, “My apologies for hiding it—”
“There’s no need for you to say such a thing,” Atarax interrupted Eugene with a shake of his head. “There was good reason for you to not be able to announce that you are the master of the Holy Sword, and weren’t the Saintess Candidate Kristina and the Holy See already made aware of your status as the new master of the Holy Sword, after all?”
Atarax raised his hands.
“Hemoria! Applause for the master of the Holy Sword!” Atarax instructed.
Hemoria silently raised her hands and began clapping. But the sound of Atarax’s clapping was much louder than Hemoria’s.
“Enough,” Atarax said as their applause abruptly stopped. “Now then, master of the Holy Sword, please, tell us the story of how you heroically slew the devil who attempted to descend here!”
“It died because I swung the Holy Sword at it,” Eugene simply explained.
Atarax and the others were struck dumb.
“Well, it also made a ‘Kaagh’ sound before biting it,” Eugene muttered as he walked over to the altar where parts of the magic circle remained.