Chapter 159 - There Is a Voice Calling in the Darkness (1)

Shadows cast by the moonlight were lying over the city of Moshiam.

A city without a master, and a city not yet free of the scars of war.

Moshiam, which had fallen to the forces sent from the Central, still lay stripped bare, unable even to repair its broken gates.

"Yaaawn..."

And so, the only ones guarding Moshiam now were soldiers who looked utterly unmotivated.

The soldiers currently nodding off were men sent by the Northern Alliance, men with no particular affection or sense of responsibility for this city.

"Bishop Pierre. It is done."

"Good."

There were those watching their lax posture from far away.

For some reason unknown to the guards, today's darkness felt softer and stickier.

The yawns began with one person, but soon came from here and there.

As the softness of the night seemed to stroke their heads slowly, the guards' eyelids began to grow heavy.

"They have fallen asleep."

The guards who had closed their eyes would have thought it was only for a very brief moment, but for someone else, it was enough time to pass through the gate.

The unknown people who had sent a blessing of peace over the flowing darkness succeeded, just as they intended, in entering the city of Moshiam without any obstruction.

"Moshiam..."

Guards dozing endlessly, a broken gate.

And unknown people passing between them.

Among the people who had been passing by for some time, Bishop Pierre stopped for a moment and looked up at the broken gate.

"Are you saying this, too, was broken on purpose?"

He was a man with a lanky height that did not suit his scrawny body.

When he pulled back his hood, an old rosary signifying the Vatican could be seen hanging at his chest.

※※※※

There were three people walking through the morning mist.

Two people riding a black horse and a young donkey.

"Hah... hah."

And one Beastfolk man who had no mount at all.

"You're out of breath after walking only that much?"

"No, this is a little hard to keep up with."

"Don't they say Beastfolk all have good stamina? That's what I heard."

"That all depends on the individual. You must not be trapped by prejudice, Sir Knight."

"No, the problem is that if I don't move according to prejudice right now, things get troublesome."

"..."

Nibelun, who had been walking with his tongue hanging out, quickly shut his mouth at Vlad's scolding, which was about to begin.

Unlike how he looked, this knight had a crooked temperament, and he still had not lowered his guard against Nibelun.

"Here, some water."

"Oh my. Thank you, priest."

"I am still only an acolyte. You must not call me a priest."

"Heh. Even so, the way you give to others is already that of an excellent priest."

Nibelun's ears perked up as he accepted the canteen Jean handed him.

Jean, who had seen a Beastfolk for the first time through Nibelun, was looking at him as if inwardly fascinated by the sight.

"We'll be at Moshiam soon, so keep your mouth shut there."

"Yes."

"Don't ramble on about every little thing, whether it exists or not, just because you feel like it, like you did in the last village."

"... Yes."

Whether it was scolding or a warning, there was a reason Vlad was reminding him so earnestly.

'He says he won't talk, but...'

It had only been a few days of traveling, but Vlad had been able to get a rough grasp of the kind of person Nibelun was.

A man possessed by a strange passion.

The man called Nibelun might look normal most of the time, but when it came to the field he devoted himself to, he would suddenly turn into something like a madman.

And Vlad, who had lived in the back alleys for a long time, knew very well that this type of person was the most dangerous.

"Halt there! Dismount and state your identity!"

Even as they bickered while walking, their destination had drawn near, and at last there were walls visible beyond the thick fog in the distance.

Moshiam.

The city that had harbored a wicked being.

The guards protecting that place saw the three people approaching the gate and blocked their path.

"Beastfolk?"

"Hello. Nice to meet you. This is our first time meeting, isn't it?"

Nibelun's greeting fit the situation, but there was something somehow unsettling about it.

Though Vlad had told him to keep his mouth shut, Nibelun still went and spoke to the guard, making Vlad frown.

"Is this your first time in this city?"

"I suppose so. It is my first time, but I truly wanted to come in. The broken gate is very impressive."

"..."

It only takes a brief conversation to distinguish the normal from the abnormal.

The guard had already found something out of joint within Nibelun's words.

Just like his warning in the previous village had sounded like a curse, Nibelun was a person with no understanding whatsoever of other people's worlds.

"You there. The man. Dismount and state your identity."

A young knight still blue with youth, a young acolyte, and a somewhat strange Beastfolk man.

Seeing a combination that looked even more suspicious than when they had been in the fog, Moshiam's guards lowered their spears without mercy.

"Do I have to get down?"

"Stop talking and come down. You brought a Beastfolk with you, so you don't think you'll be going in quietly, do you?"

"Well, that's true."

True, even I would do the same.

Even now, Nibelun's smiling face looked strangely bizarre, as though he were wearing a mask.

Even if he had not been a Beastfolk who would not be welcomed anyway, Nibelun's current appearance was more than enough to warrant stopping him.

"State your purpose for coming here and your identity."

"Hold on. I put it in here."

The guard's tone was sharp as he faced the suspicious people, but Vlad's tone in front of him was nothing but calm.

"Ah. Here it is."

So what if Nibelun was strange, and so what if Jean was young?

The boy who had not even had the right to pass through a gate and had dug through dog holes was no longer here.

The Vlad standing here now was someone who could open closed doors not only for himself, but for others as well.

"Take this for a moment."

"Huh?"

The items he handed over were utterly natural.

They were items handed over casually, but the guard who actually checked them began to stiffen more and more.

"This is a certificate made in Soara... and for reference, Count Bayezid stamped it himself."

"Urk."

"And this is a confirmation letter sent by Bishop Andreas."

"Hup!"

"I am a knight named Vlad. Hold on, the crest of Bayezid is engraved on the pommel."

A knight personally appointed by Count Bayezid, and the guide of a young acolyte guaranteed by Bishop Andreas.

And a northern knight who could already prove himself by his name alone.

Vlad.

"This identification badge was issued directly by the Church of Varna, and if you look here, Lord Andreas's guarantee is engraved on it too."

"I-I'm sorry, I am sorry..."

Jean's face changed pitifully as he looked at the guard.

The proofs Vlad pulled out one by one were far too heavy for a mere gatekeeper to receive.

Every time Vlad took something out of his coat, the faces of the guards around them turned deathly pale.

"Can we pass now?"

"Please pass through..."

The sight of Vlad smiling at the guards still looked like that of a boy.

He looked like a child who wanted to show off something shining.

※※※※

As Vlad passed through the gate, he looked at the flags fluttering above it.

Though the fog was so thick that he could not identify them clearly, there were definitely a few familiar flags among them.

'Baranoff, Bayezid, and Heinal...'

The seven flags representing the North.

The only thing that had changed was that Uthman's flag had come down, and Heinal's flag had been newly hung in its place.

Just like the sight of not one, but several flags waving, the city of Moshiam was currently being managed under the name of the community called the Northern Alliance, without the rule of any particular lord.

"Please follow me! I will guide you!"

"Good."

Moshiam, which they entered while following the guidance of the guards who had become overly rigid with discipline, looked somehow eerie.

It was clearly a main road crossing the city, yet the surroundings were filled only with shops that had not opened a single door.

Perhaps because of the thick fog, not even people coming and going could be seen, giving it an uncanny atmosphere.

"It is so quiet..."

"That is why you have come here, Acolyte. This is a city that needs God's word more than ever."

Vlad comforted Jean in a warm voice as he shrank at the sight of the unfamiliar city.

As Vlad said, the city of Moshiam was currently the place in the North that needed God's comfort more than any other city.

According to Andreas, not only Jean, but most acolytes whose time had come would be heading here to Moshiam.

"Seeing it full of fog reminds me of that time. I am sure you will do well."

"Are you leaving today?"

Even if he had been pretending to be brave until now, Jean was still only a young boy.

Jean, who knew very well that the duty of the knight who had so reliably protected him ended here, was looking at Vlad anxiously.

"I won't leave right away. I will probably stay here for a while. About a week."

"Ah. That is a relief."

Seeing Jean let out a sigh of relief without realizing it, Vlad gave a faint smile.

It was the beginning of standing on his own from now on, but the young acolyte was also still at an age when he needed someone's help.

'Please look after him well.'

Vlad knew very well why Andreas had deliberately attached him to Jean.

It must have been because he needed a guardian who protected him from the heart, not simply because it was a mission.

Though he was bound by the rules of the church, the young acolyte he had raised since he was a baby was more than a disciple to Andreas.

"Wait."

"Yes?"

That was why Vlad was now blocking Jean's way.

From the moment they entered the city, his duty as a guide had ended, but Vlad still had no hesitation in claiming to be Jean's guardian.

"Guard up ahead. Stop for a moment."

Jean and the guard were flustered by Vlad's sudden command.

But only Nibelun, the Beastfolk, pricked up his ears and followed the sound coming from beyond the fog.

"Someone is crying."

"..."

"I think it is a woman."

The sound coming from beyond the unseen fog was the sound of a woman crying.

A soft and low, but endlessly continuing sound of weeping.

After confirming the fog, the woman, and the sound of weeping, Vlad felt a sense of déjà vu, as if he had experienced this before, and slowly brought his hand to his scabbard.

"Sob, sob..."

In the middle of the empty city's main road.

Only now confirming the sound of weeping that had approached, Jean and the guards swallowed dryly and turned their heads toward the direction the sound was coming from.

"Please find my child. Mister, my child..."

The one who emerged through the thick fog of the city was a woman crying.

The woman, who had an empty baby sling on her back, saw the guard and leaned against him as if collapsing, then began to weep sorrowfully.

"What is this?"

The atmosphere was similar, but it was not the same being.

The woman crying now was neither wicked nor shedding black tears.

"Ah, this is..."

The guard, who had no choice but to hold the crying woman, explained the situation to Vlad with a troubled expression.

"There are quite a few madwomen like this in this city."

"Why?"

"That is..."

The guard hurriedly handed the woman over to another soldier and scratched his head.

"They say the wicked being that was here harmed many young children. I do not know the details myself."

The crying woman had already approached Jean and was holding out the baby sling she had been carrying on her back toward him.

There was no way Jean could fit inside it, but the crying woman seemed unable to endure the absence inside the empty sling.

"Right now, there are almost no children in this city up to the acolyte's age. Even if there are, their parents have no intention of letting them outside."

"... Is that so?"

As Vlad listened to the woman's weeping gradually growing distant as the soldiers took her away, he quietly stroked the chest of his armor.

The armor he had received from the elves and the dwarves had repaired.

On the chest of that armor, which had grown warmer than before, the inscription he had received from San Rosino still remained.

※※※※

"I am sorry. The Captain is currently absent."

"We came without warning, so I understand. We will wait."

In city hall, which had now become a place without a master, holy knights from the Northern Orthodox Church were currently stationed.

"Hmm..."

Vlad, who had sat down in a chair to wait for the Captain said to have gone out on a mission, quickly suppressed a yawn that slipped out.

'I am so sleepy.'

Looking at Jean and Nibelun, who had at some point fallen asleep while leaning on his shoulders, Vlad wiped away a few languid tears with his finger and forced his eyes wide open.

However, the sleep that had begun to pour over him was heavy, and his eyelids stuck together more and more, refusing to open easily.

"Ugh..."

Unlike the cold outside, the air inside the building was warm.

The camping that had continued for the past few days, and even the relief of finally reaching their destination.

Thinking of the Captain who might arrive at any time, Vlad folded his arms, only to drop his head and doze off.

※※※※

Round and round, let us circle the match.

Let us circle the match that sings so merrily.

Until the bright-red hair turns pitch-black.

Until the song being sung comes to an end...

"..."

A place dark, yet bright.

Was there a festival taking place?

From up ahead, the sound of children singing could be heard.

In the dream into which he had sunk like a swamp, there was one large bonfire, and that bonfire held calm flames as it illuminated the darkness on all sides.

"..."

The space within the dream was a comfortable place, like a mother's embrace.

This place is safe and happy.

Feeling that, Vlad ended up smiling without realizing it, just like the children laughing and chattering up ahead.

It would have been so nice if there had been a place like this in the back alleys too.

Vlad, who had suffered in that place where he was always cold and hungry, was drawn by the warmth of the bonfire and slowly took a step forward.

Inside that bonfire were all the things the young Vlad had starved for.

Warm soup, a shelter with a roof, a soft blanket, and even his mother's smile.

All of them were waiting for Vlad within the bonfire.

Round and round, let us circle the match.

Until the song being sung comes to an end.

Until everyone singing it falls down.

["Vlad!"]

"...!"

In that instant, his shoulder hurt as if it were being torn apart.

Though he was inside a dream, Vlad came to his senses with a start and turned around in shock.

["Get out of this city at once!"]

And there, where he turned to look.

An unknown man whose face had been painted pitch-black was shouting at him.