Chapter 194 : Chapter 194
Chapter 194: A Certain Tale of Adventure (1)
Creak.
As the shabby door swung open,
[──Welcome!]
The traveler came to a stop.
The waiter greeted him in a cheerful voice. A small tavern set at a crossroads in the hinterlands. The traveler had just stepped inside.
It had been a rough day even by his standards. Lively music and the thick scent of liquor, and along with them, raucous voices. The traveler let the warmth that decorated the tavern soothe his fatigue. Stepping onto the worn wooden floor, he sat facing a table. Click, click. Snapping his fingers to call the waiter.
[Glad to see you, friend. Hard day again today, was it?]
There were only around twenty customers. Every one of them a traveler.
There was only one waiter. A boy of strange appearance.
[Say something, why don't you. Where are you from? Ah, sorry. No need to answer. Asking a traveler where he's from is rude. It stirs up homesickness.]
Was he being abused somewhere?
Bandages were wound around the boy's body in many places. Like shackles.
Even so, what was there to do about it. In the end, it was someone else's problem. The traveler resolved not to concern himself with it too deeply. He would fill his stomach and depart. Before it grew dark. That much would do.
[Let me confirm your order. Lamb stew, a glass of dark beer, and a basket of fresh fruit. Correct?]
The traveler shook his head.
He had not ordered fruit.
[Don't worry about it. That's on the house. I'm handing it out to the guests. Fruit I grew myself.
Is that so.
Much obliged.
I'll eat it gratefully.
The traveler nodded.
The boy flashed a bright smile and moved off. As firewood crackled in the hearth, the traveler peeled off his leather helmet and let out a breath. A cloud of breath thick with winter wind curled in the air.
[Speaking of which, friend.]
The boy returned in no time.
[How are the state of things these days?]
The lamb stew was set on the oaken table.
The boy's expression, reflected on the iron utensils, looked innocent. The traveler picked up his spoon and answered.
The state of things? Well, a mess.
[What sort of mess?]
Telling it would have no end.
Scorn flickered across the traveler's lips. He'd heard heaps of rumors as he wandered from place to place. Monsters born with intellect. Intelligent Species, they were called, had been appearing in every region. And what of the Frozen Color. Rumors of them being sighted near the capital were rampant. The expansion of the Demon Realm had also sped up, and then there was......
[Religion, right?]
Right, religion.
The traveler nodded.
After tossing back the dark beer in one gulp, he went on.
[A religion of unknown origin is rising in influence, and......]
Apostates seemed to stand behind it.
The Imperial Court must have caught on to the danger too. It was plain they had begun acting beneath the surface. But it was futile. Because most of the believers were from the lower class. The rival of power is incompetence, and those who have nothing are the true adversaries of the Imperial Court. One day the Imperial Court would be toppled by the destitute. The traveler believed as much.
Revolutions, riots — all such things rose up from below.
Those in power would not be able to stop it.
[So the time is coming, at last.]
The boy furrowed his brow and muttered to himself.
Abel will have started moving. I can't stay still either. As the boy murmured that, he looked the traveler over.
[So, friend?]
The traveler was chewing his way through the fruit.
[How is it?]
It's good.
Absurdly good.
The traveler murmured.
[Glad to hear it. Eat plenty. This world exists to fill your belly, friend.]
But, friend,
Sorry to bother you in the middle of your meal, but,
Would it be all right if I asked one more question?
[Do you believe in a god, friend?]
No.
The question just now is void.
The boy murmured.
[Do you believe in the world, friend?]
No, no.
This question is void too.
The boy shook his head.
[Friend......]
I believe in nothing.
The traveler whispered toward the boy.
He said there was no other way. He had walked through countless wild lands and at times had strayed in ruins. There had even been times when the land he'd taken for flat ground before falling asleep turned out, upon waking, to be a grave. The world was disordered, and the gods seemed to have no interest in order. And so he had come not to believe in anything.
"Then let me ask."
The traveler spoke.
He gazed at the boy and asked him.
"Child, do you believe."
Do you believe in a god.
Do you believe in the world.
At that question from the traveler,
[I do not.]
The boy answered flatly.
[Of course not. No one can fully believe in themselves. Not even a god, not even the world.]
So what I believe in,
In place of believing in a god,
In place of believing in the world,
[Is the Hero.]
A god,
The world,
The World God,
[I believe in Monica Lohengrin.]
***
"Kuh! Hero......, my defeat."
Ten years old, Monica Lohengrin was a difficult child.
So you'd better brace yourself. That was the warning the Mother Superior gave. Really? Candice Black, the youngest nun, just assigned to the orphanage, wondered. Do I really have to brace myself? She was just a child, after all.
"Those were the Demon King's last words."
Every child who lived at the orphanage had their own story.
Monica Lohengrin was no exception. She had lost her parents during the Mirror War, Candice had heard. If that were all, it might have been a mercy. Monica didn't have her right arm either. She had been found at the entrance of the orphanage with her right arm already severed.
"The light of early dawn lit up the Hero's face, and the radiance of the Holy Sword purified every corner stained with malice. Rejoice, children. Peace has come to this world."
Had she arrived at the orphanage on her own.
Had someone brought Monica there.
The answer was unclear. Monica had no memory of that time.
"Let us all return."
But it didn't really matter either way.
Turning the pages of <BRAVE QUEST>, Candice thought. Sometimes children clung to life as though working a miracle, but children who clung back into life mostly did not believe in miracles. How should a mass of orphans be taught to believe in miracles. The nuns of the orphanage agonized over it alike.
"The Hero whispered so."
Deep night, the playroom of the orphanage.
Candice was reading a fairy tale aloud.
The children huddled close and listened. The faces of the children heavy with sleepiness were adorable.
"Every adventure must come to an end at some point. As the corpse of the Demon King crumbled in the sunlight, the Hero and her companions looked back upon the road they had walked. Now it is time to return home."
Monica was off at some distance.
Leaning against the wall, only looking down at her own feet. The tightly bound right sleeve of Monica's shirt caught Candice's eye. Candice let out a sigh and closed <BRAVE QUEST>.
"Monica."
At Candice's call, Monica raised her head.
There was no answer. Candice paid it no mind and wore a smile.
"What do you think?"
Perhaps some bracing was necessary after all.
Candice came to accept the Mother Superior's warning.
"If you were the Hero......, what do you think it would be like?"
One did need to brace oneself. When one had to level a question like this at a child who had lost her parents, and her right arm besides.
The children's gazes turned to Monica. Monica's shoulders flinched for a moment, and then, frowning, she turned her eyes away from Candice's.
It was training. The fairy tales were teaching material meant to drill the children into affirming delusion. To wish for the impossible could hardly be a sin. Before learning any moral, children needed the chance to affirm fantasy.
All the more so for the orphans of the orphanage.
"Answer me, Monica. If you were......"
"I wouldn't believe it."
Monica cut Candice's words short.
"If every creature believes in God without doubt, then the Hero would be the only one whom God believes in, but......"
I wouldn't believe it.
Monica answered.
"......There's no way God would believe in me."
***
"Now, everyone!"
Clap.
Iris clapped her hands.
"Shall we give thanks for our daily bread?"
Iris and Monica, along with Abel, were sitting around their prepared meal. Preserved food and a small amount of water. The meal Iris had apportioned was too spartan by any measure.
The day was growing dark. For three days they had traversed the wasteland nonstop. They had slept by raising tents, and kept themselves clean through the household-magic scrolls Iris had brought along. Even so, half a day later they'd be chewing on grit again.
"We'll be crossing the border before long."
Thunk.
Abel set his own share of the meal beside Monica.
Remaining seated on a boulder, he went on.
"So let me confirm. If we continue by magestone vehicle, we'll reach the former royal capital of the Vianchiel Kingdom within three days. We will infiltrate it in disguise. Am I correct?"
"You are."
Iris shrugged.
Then she reached out. As she brewed cheap black tea, she began to hum.
"According to our intelligence, a mana reaction was detected at the former royal capital of the Vianchiel Kingdom. Believers of the Parousia Denomination are probably eking out their existence there."
"Did you submit the report to the Imperial Court and the Papacy?"
"Don't take me for an amateur. I've already taken care of it."
I have absolutely no idea what they're talking about.
Thinking so, Monica pursed her lips. She had been listening in on Abel's and Iris's conversations for several days now. The Parousia Denomination was the religion of apostates, and the believers she had encountered in Cyurio must have been ones enthralled by the Parousia Denomination. The Parousia Denomination's base lay in the former royal capital of the Vianchiel Kingdom, and Abel and Iris's purpose was, none other than, the extermination of the Parousia Denomination.
But even so, she still didn't understand.
"Eat, Monica. This is all we have for now."
At Abel's words, Monica nodded.
Picking up a canned tin, she looked around. A monster of some unknown sort. It had poked its head up out of the sand.
"Oh my, Abel. You aren't eating? Being picky about the side dishes — I cannot overlook that."
"Don't needle me, Iris. You know my condition well enough."
As Abel and Iris spoke in idle chatter,
──Kyaak, and. A monster revealed itself from the sand.
A monster resembling a massive lizard.
"I'll stay and keep watch over the tents."
Tatatat!
The monster dashed toward Abel, and,
Just as it was about to reach him,
"So why not go do a little patrol. The two of you, together."
Ssssshhh......
The monster vanished without a trace.
Having been cut down so fine it was reduced to powder.
"Very well."
Grurk, grurk, gurrrk──!
And that was the signal. As one monster was dismembered, the area was riddled with glowing eyes. A good thirty, at least. Countless monsters had them surrounded.
"I've been wanting to have a leisurely chat."
Just as one of the monsters was about to reach Iris,
It was dyed in radiance and dismembered, and,
"Without you present. Just me and Monica."
Just as another of the monsters was about to reach Abel,
It was dyed in aura and dismembered, and,
"So, Monica."
One, two, three, four, five......
With a blank expression, Monica crouched down and counted the number.
The heads of monsters being dismembered. The countless monsters were being cut down without exception. Shreds of flesh became powder and were swept away on the night wind, and Monica scratched her head and stuffed a spoonful of tomato soup into her mouth.
"I'm counting on you."
I still don't understand.
Thinking so, Monica raised her head.
Iris was smiling at her. For the cold expression of a Duke, the warmth softening the edges of her mouth was a warm one. She said she played the Duke while in truth being a Saintess. Monica gave a hollow laugh and nodded.
"By the way, how are we going to manage this sad excuse for a meal? You'd need to eat at least thirty cans of this stuff, I'd say. A girl in her growing years like you."
"No, I'm fine......"
I'm full, and.
Monica muttered softly.
'What on earth are these people.'
I don't understand.
Still I don't understand. I still don't understand. I truly cannot understand.
Thinking so, Monica let out a sigh.
'......I can't even tell what this tastes like.'
Ting.
The iron spoon reached the bottom of the tin.
The metallic sound nagged at the inside of Monica's ear.
Almost like a moan.