“…What on earth is going on here?”
“The situation has changed a bit. Could you guide us right now?”
Apophis came out after hearing the commotion.
Hamel quickly explained the circumstances to him.
“Well, I can guide you, but…”
Apophis nodded, flustered.
Hamel thanked him and moved to leave.
“Then, everyone, get ready…”
“Wait.”
No—he was about to move when a cynical voice stopped him.
Hamel turned and saw Ono watching him from the corner of his eye.
“Why is that?”
“Why you, of all people. You’re like a foal with its tail on fire.”
“…”
What on earth was he talking about?
Hamel assumed Ono understood the urgency, but Ono, irritated, pointed to one side.
“Are you planning to leave that as it is and go?”
Where he pointed, Aileen Rengbaster stood tied with rope, twisting and struggling.
“…”
Hamel fell silent.
Indeed, leaving her like that would be hard to explain to the innkeeper couple. But taking her along to where a fight might break out was also risky.
Ono pressed him further.
“And the kid got bitten too, right? It’s right to leave them behind.”
“I…!”
Lena, about to protest desperately, shut her mouth at Ono’s rebuke.
Hamel looked troubled and then slowly nodded.
“Ono’s right. I think I was a bit hasty.”
“Good. That’s enough.”
Ono replied as if annoyed. After a moment’s thought, Hamel spoke.
“Then, Lena, you should stay and protect Aileen…”
“You idiot, are you really not thinking straight today?”
“…?”
Ono exploded again, as if something else was bothering him.
He peered at Hamel with incredulity.
“Did you really forget?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The inquisitors!”
“What about them…?”
Hamel answered, baffled. Weren’t they supposed to leave early tomorrow anyway?
Seeing Hamel’s reaction, Ono grabbed the back of his neck and scolded him.
“Unbelievable. I can’t believe such a naive fool survived until now.”
“…?”
“Do those inquisitors look like the sort who parade around and make flower arrangements with the domain’s people?”
“But they quietly withdrew during the day, didn’t they?”
Hamel had suspected something was off. They might have had backing. Their deputy had apparently yielded to Hamel’s words—he was the sort whose emotions showed easily, but he wasn’t bad at judging a situation. If he’d drawn his sword there, he’d have been cut down by Hamel’s hand.
“Ah.”
Hamel exhaled. Ono, stunned that Hamel was only now realizing, said:
“You only noticed now? They withdrew because they knew they’d lose if they fought. If we leave just the kid and Aileen Rengbaster here…”
“…They might do something.”
Only then did Hamel’s head clear. It was a very real possibility.
As Hamel reconsidered, Apophis, who had been quietly listening, raised a hand.
“Why?”
“You… if I stay, how about that?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Apophis, looking a little shameless, answered.
“I’m sorry for making a promise, but after hearing this I feel uneasy about leaving the inn empty. There’s a chance ruffians might attack the inn.”
“…”
“Ah, don’t worry. I’ll mark the location on a map for you. The road isn’t that hard.”
“…That would be fine, but they’ll attack even if Apophis stays.”
What the inquisitors feared was Hamel and his party. In other words, even if Apophis remained, those who didn’t know him would still attack.
Ono thought a moment and then nodded.
“That sounds like a good idea.”
“…Why?”
“It’s setting a trap. Pretend to leave and wait for them to ambush the inn.”
A trap.
Ono pressed on toward a hesitant Hamel.
“They don’t know Apophis is there, right? If Apophis buys time, those of us who pretended to leave can come back and strike. We clean them out neatly and then depart.”
Hamel was silent for a moment. It wasn’t a bad plan—it was safer than leaving uncertainties behind.
Apophis cocked his head.
“It all sounds fine… but is it really necessary for me to buy time?”
“Well, the plan depends on Apophis buying time…”
“No, what I mean is…” Apophis looked exasperated. “Why buy time? I can just kill them all.”
“…Ah.”
Dawn heavy with darkness had fallen.
A group moved down the road without torches; only the clank of armor cut the silence.
How far had they come?
The man at the front abruptly stopped and raised his hand. Dozens of armed companions halted at once. They stood before a two-story inn.
The lead man slowly lowered his hood.
Abraham, deputy captain of the Purification Order.
He narrowed his sharp eyes and asked the inquisitor beside him, “It’s certain that Hamel Gilmore is away from his post, right?”
“Yes. We confirmed he and his party went up the eastern mountain range two hours ago.”
“So he must have caught a scent. He’s as capable as we’ve heard.”
They had tracked Vlad Chepesh within only half a day of arriving in the village. They’d discovered movements the inquisitors couldn’t learn even after torturing the villagers for fifteen days. Abraham felt impressed—and a little pity.
“This one is exactly as the captain described. Righteous and… utterly naive.”
It seemed Hamel truly believed in his promises.
At first, Abraham had intended to keep his own promise as well—to leave when the sun rose. He’d meant it sincerely. But two hours earlier, everything had changed.
Members watching the inn had reported that Hamel and his companions—the knight and the priest—had left and headed for the mountains. The moment Abraham heard that, all plans shifted.
Originally they had planned to leave the village and head to the captain. If their actions were reported to the order, they’d receive the severest punishment. It was a pity, but manageable—they intended to step down soon anyway. They had little attachment to the order and thought they could continue serving Him elsewhere.
‘But…’ It seemed He still had work for them in the order.
Hamel had left with only some of his party behind. The reason for the sudden departure was unknown, but it changed everything: if they killed all the domain’s people and the remaining companions, there would be no reason for news of their deeds to spread.
A crooked smile split Abraham’s face.
An inquisitor beside him, uneasy, asked, “Um, Abraham—”
“What is it?”
“But even if we kill everyone left here, wouldn’t it all be over if Hamel and his party return alive?”
“What?… Pfft!”
Abraham paused, then let out a bark of laughter. “Inquisitor, you do know who Hamel went to face now, don’t you?”
“…Yes. Of course I do.”
“No, you don’t.” Abraham’s expression turned cold; the corners of his mouth hardened and a chill gleamed in his eyes. They had no idea. Only those who had felt that terror could understand.
Abraham had seen it before: a being no human could handle—those who wielded divine power on earth.
‘Apostle.’
No matter how weakened they were after losing followers and power, humans could not defeat an apostle.
Then Abraham brightened his face again and said cheerfully, “From the start, baiting Hamel Gilmore here was meant to draw the order’s attention through his death. There’s no chance Hamel will return alive.”
Hamel Saint Gilmore—if one given the Saint’s name died here, the order’s gaze would focus on this place. With all their might they’d sweep away Vlad Chepesh and his rabble at once. The captain had aimed for that from the beginning. The more attention the order gave Solmer, the freer the captain’s movements would be.
“So, the likelihood of him returning is…”
“That will not happen.”
At Abraham’s certainty, the inquisitor relaxed. He had been uneasy about laying hands on Hamel’s companions. Hamel’s martial prowess was known to be formidable; what the order knew publicly was impressive, but they knew darker details.
‘Dragonian who wields the power of dragon’s blood. A power that burns demons…’ It sounded like a fairy-tale hero, but the adversaries Hamel would face were resurrected nightmares and brutal reality—ancient beings from the age of myths. A mere fairy-tale hero could not stop them.
“Begin.”
Abraham spoke calmly. Dozens of inquisitors in full plate stepped forward, morningstars lowered. One grasped the inn’s door handle and pushed.
The door opened easily. Even if it had been locked, a single blow from a morningstar would have split it. Things would finish sooner than expected, Abraham thought, and he felt pleased.
The moment an inquisitor stepped into the inn, a tin bucket crumpled and sent him flying back outside.
“…”
Those waiting to enter halted.
‘Who is it?’
Abraham frowned. They’d been told there was no one inside capable of fighting—the only one left was Aileen Rengbaster, a frail girl recently inheriting lordship.
‘…The innkeeper’s husband, perhaps.’ Abraham tilted his head. Had someone hidden their skill?
The wooden floor creaked as someone walked, announcing their presence. Tension coiled as that figure stepped into the faint moonlight.
“…A child?”
One inquisitor muttered in disbelief. A boy who looked barely over ten grinned with a strange, pleased expression.
“Who is this boy? There was no son among the innkeeper’s family, as far as I know.”
The boy snickered and answered Abraham’s question.
“A guest.”
“…Is that so? That’s unfortunate.”
Abraham signaled the inquisitors. At the boy’s side, an inquisitor hefted his morningstar high.
But with a sound like a melon splitting, the man’s body crumpled. The morningstar slipped from his hand and thudded to the floor; he toppled forward without resistance. The inquisitor’s head had exploded along with his helmet.
“…”
A chilling silence fell.
The boy broke it with a small smile. “I also find it unfortunate.”
Something was terribly wrong. Only that thought crossed Abraham’s mind.
