Chapter 73

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Waves spread in thin sheets across the sandy beach. When they washed back out, they left the fine sand smooth and even.

Watching them, I felt as though the dregs in my heart were being washed away too, leaving everything clean and orderly.

Ricard raised his head and saw water stretching to the ends of the earth. This was his first sight of the sea. He had heard of it, but never seen it.

For a time, he stood spellbound by the endless horizon. What was this immensity? Who but God could work such a marvel?

Awe rose alongside his shock. He could scarcely believe it. This was far more staggering than seeing a vampire in the flesh.

The sea breeze roughly stroked Ricard's hair. It tangled it every which way, but he had no attention to spare.

This was hardly the season for visiting the seaside, but that did not matter. Cold though the wind might be, it was balmy compared with the northern winter winds that seemed to strip the flesh from one's bones.

It was cold, yet did not feel cold. It seemed to open his chest wide, leaving him simply refreshed.

Pale clouds floated like down in the blue sky. The sun's gaze was gentle rather than fierce.

And the sound of the waves truly resembled wind blowing across the fields.

SHHHHH...

"I can't believe it..."

Ice spoke from a little way away, where he too was looking out to sea. It was his first time seeing it as well.

The two young swordsmen gazed at the sea for a long while. How far did it stretch? Would they fall off if they reached its end?

"So this is the edge of the world," Ice said.

"No. Perhaps heaven is somewhere beyond it. Not up in the sky," Ricard said.

That seemed more plausible than a paradise floating in the heavens. An island somewhere no one knew, with an ideal land upon it—that was easier to imagine.

Ricard stepped gently onto the smooth, wet sand. His feet left prints as they would in snow. A thin wave rolled in and swept over his soles.

He scooped up a little seawater and tasted it. Good heavens! It really was salty!

Most salt used in food was rock salt, so Ricard had thought it all came from mines in the mountains. Yet this endless expanse of water was all salt water.

He could hardly believe it. Salt was an expensive ingredient; it felt as though even his understanding of money was being turned upside down.

He looked out to sea again. He could never tire of looking at it. He found himself wishing his other friends could see it at least once too.

The wonderfully open view filled him with exuberance, and he shouted out across the water.

"Waaaaaah!"

Ice turned toward Ricard's unexpected outburst with a smile. Then he too shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Waaaaaah! Hahahaha!"

Laughter burst out of its own accord.

Having come this far, Ricard threw off his equipment and leaped into the sea.

Splashing water, cold that seemed to clench his heart, bursts of laughter, and a sense of freedom.

Ice plunged in as well. The two splashed about like children.

Since ancient times, immersing oneself in salt water had held sacred meaning. In other words, God had provided salvation for all humanity.

Even so, dealing with the aftermath was bound to be awkward. Later, they built a fire and dried themselves, but in the already chilly autumn weather, one wrong step would be an excellent way to catch pneumonia.

Ricard and Ice laid their wet clothes out beside the fire and shivered.

Alone, either would have cut a sorry figure. Having made fools of themselves together, however, they could only laugh.

"What will you do once you become a Sword Master?"

Ricard rarely pried into things his friends kept hidden, yet for some reason he could ask easily now.

"I'm not sure. I don't know."

"Will you have to go back to your church once you become a Sword Master?"

"I suppose so..."

"That's a shame. I wish we could all stay together forever."

"So do I. But if I fail to do what I must, my younger sibling will have died for nothing."

"Can you tell me about your sibling?"

Ice did not answer at once. He gazed into the campfire for a moment. Its flickering flames were gentle rather than fierce.

"A child who was always laughing. But that led to sin, and the punishment was death. I had to spit on the body. So only devotion to God can save my sibling."

Ricard could not understand it, but out of consideration for Ice, he refrained from criticizing his religion.

Perhaps, though, Ice's love for his sibling mattered more to him than the religion itself.

He seemed tormented by having stood by as his sibling died, and by having spat on the body instead of even being able to see to its burial.

The pain ran far too deep for Ricard to tell him to forget it simply because it was in the past. Saying such a thing could be a grave insult to Ice.

Besides, he seemed to feel guilty at the thought of allowing himself happiness when his sibling had died so miserably.

An anguish he could not escape. Ice was floundering in a prison without bars.

"... To think laughter could be a sin. When there's so much salt water."

"I know. I wish my sibling could have seen the sea too."

"What if they saw it before you did?"

"Hm?"

"Somewhere far out at sea, there must be an island for those poor souls. A place without pain or suffering. Your sibling will be waiting for you there. Someday, when you meet again, they'll welcome you with a smile."

Ice looked at Ricard for a moment, then simply smiled in silence. Countless stars glittered above the pitch-black sea. Yes, when there were so many beautiful things like that.

The waves murmured, the campfire crackled, and the stars shone overhead.

The next morning, Ricard and Ice brushed the salt from their dry clothes and put them on. They donned their equipment once more and followed the beach south.

They set out at dawn and reached Harlen later that morning.

Just as they had seen the sea for the first time yesterday, Ricard and Ice were now experiencing a major city for the first time.

Ehrenberg was a small city with a population of around a thousand. Rheinfurt was the largest city they knew, but even that could not compare with Harlen.

It was difficult even to judge how far Harlen extended, and its population seemed well over ten thousand. The harbor was enormous, the ships were huge, and the markets overflowed with all manner of exotic goods.

Ricard had thought Stormhertz was the countryside. Apparently, the entire north was a backwater.

Ricard first approached a fishmonger in the market to ask directions. The fishy stench from the heaps on the stall nearly made his head spin, but he did not grimace.

"Excuse me. Do you know where I can find the Rose Acrobat Troupe?"

"... Well, I don't know the name, but if you want to see acrobatics, you'll have to go farther into the city."

"I see. Could you tell me roughly where?"

"Find the great temple first, then head south. Ask people again once you're there, and they'll tell you."

"All right. Thank you."

Ricard handed him a copper coin and turned away.

Harlen's great temple was easy to find. It was one of the city's most important buildings, and so large that it was clearly visible from afar.

A square lay before it, with a bloodstained execution platform at its center. No public execution was taking place just then, however, so it served as a playground for the city's children.

After walking south for a while, they came upon boats traveling along a canal. The houses were tall and narrow, crammed tightly together. A slightly foul smell rose from the canal, though it was not too bad.

Here, Ricard stopped another passerby to ask directions.

"Excuse me, where could I see the Rose Acrobat Troupe?"

"Hm? Are you travelers?"

"Yes, well, that's right."

"Then you may have trouble seeing the performance. You need an invitation to get in. It's next to the entrance to the catacombs. Turn right at that street over there and keep going straight."

Catacombs were underground burial grounds dating back to ancient times. They varied from city to city, but some were so vast and labyrinthine that a person could easily get lost.

"All right. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Enjoy your travels."

The passerby gave them a bright smile. Unlike the brusque, harsh north, people here seemed to have a certain ease about them.

Ricard and Ice followed the directions. Eventually, they reached a barred entrance to the catacombs, beside which stood a very large building.

Sure enough, a plaque on its wall bore the name "Rose Garden."

"This looks like the place. Let's find an inn first."

"Right."

Now that they had located it, it was time to settle in and make a plan.

Ricard and Ice found lodgings not far from the Rose Garden. After unpacking and eating a meal of smoked herring, they wandered the alleys to familiarize themselves with the area.

"Those catacombs look suspicious, don't they?" Ricard asked as they walked down an alley that received little sunlight.

"I'd say it's almost certain, wouldn't you?"

"They must not operate openly. Otherwise, that location would invite suspicion."

"But how do we get invited? Should we sneak in at night?"

"They're creatures of the night. Acting at night would mean throwing away our advantage."

"Hmm..."

"Let's watch for now. There's no rush. We may have to face a High Vampire. We should be careful."

"Want to try the thieves' guild?"

Every city had a thieves' guild, just as light always cast a shadow. They might know something about vampires.

But Ricard shook his head.

"Let's wait on that too. I don't think letting people know who we are would do us much good."

Even an overwhelmingly powerful predator began by hiding and watching when it hunted a small animal. Ricard was not one to blunder about relying on his swordsmanship alone.

They spent their first day exploring the area around their lodgings, checking the locations of the city gates and the hours at which they opened and closed.

After returning, they watched the Rose Garden through their window that night.

Sure enough, once night fell and ordinary people were asleep, lights came on in the building, and people began gathering one by one. Some arrived in carriages, suggesting they were wealthy.

Every one of them wore a long black cloak that covered most of the body, white gloves, and a neat hat. Their attire was exceedingly formal.

Ricard and Ice simply watched in silence. At last, apparently once everyone was inside, the doors closed.

A long while later, people came out again, laughing cheerfully as though they had enjoyed the performance. Those who had arrived in carriages left in them, while the rest walked away.

"Eight people missing."

"Huh?"

"The numbers going in and coming out don't match. Eight people are missing."

Ricard's abilities surprised Ice from time to time, but once again he found himself impressed. To think Ricard had counted them all and compared the numbers entering and leaving.

And at night, when it was difficult even to see.

"But they were smiling," Ice said.

The people had been laughing far too cheerfully for something to have happened inside.

"Wouldn't it be easy for vampires to quietly finish off a few people without anyone noticing?"

"Hmm... There certainly is something suspicious about it."

"But our commission is strictly to kill the vampire named Armand. Let's not forget that."

"Right."

Ice nodded.

The next day, Ricard and Ice again did no more than explore the neighborhood. They found that the catacombs had several entrances, not just one.

Some were not blocked off, and vagrants lived around them in tents, with fires burning nearby.

They seemed terribly vulnerable to vampire attacks, yet appeared to be living without any particular trouble. Their faces and clothing were also relatively clean for vagrants.

That night, Ricard and Ice watched the Rose Garden from their inn window again. People gathered to see the performance, and once more, fewer left than had entered. This time, five were missing.

They spent the following day much the same way, working out plans of their own: whether to explore the catacombs, or ambush a member of the audience at night and steal an invitation.

But after everyone had entered the venue, a gentleman stepped outside. Looking directly toward Ricard, he removed his hat and offered a courteous bow, as though to say he knew perfectly well they had been watching.

Then he replaced his hat and went back inside. The doors closed.

Ricard and Ice turned to each other, both wide-eyed.

Ricard grinned.

"Heh, they caught us. How did he know?"

"They're awfully sharp."

They seemed to have noticed despite the two having done nothing at all to arouse suspicion. The inn was not even particularly close to the venue. Naturally, they had not been watching with their room lit, either.

The next day, the innkeeper delivered an invitation from the Rose Acrobat Troupe to Ricard and Ice. It felt almost like a challenge to a duel.

Ricard was cautious when caution was needed, but he could also be bold. He decided this was all for the best.

Intent on getting a look at their ugly mugs, he went straight to a tailor to have formal clothes fitted, then waited for nightfall.

As time passed, the sun slowly slipped from view. At the hour when the creatures of the night awoke, Ricard and Ice set off for the Rose Garden in formal clothes, white gloves, and long black cloaks, each carrying only a single dagger.

Now the stars in the night sky seemed less beautiful than maliciously snickering.