Chapter 160 - There Is a Voice Calling in the Darkness (2)

The burning campfire was as warm as a mother's embrace, and the darkness spread around it was as comfortable as a soft carpet.

If he were honest, they were so peaceful and nostalgic that he wanted to head toward them at once.

"...!"

But right now, Vlad was looking not behind him, but ahead.

Someone was shouting at him to get out at once.

Because the voice of the faceless man was the very sound Vlad had been searching for all this time.

["Vlad!"]

Now that his revenge against Godin and his contract with Joseph were both over, only one promise remained for Vlad.

The promise that he would find the voice's name.

Vlad had never forgotten that promise for even a single moment.

"It's been a while."

["... Yes."]

Seeing Vlad say it had been a while, the man finally lowered the hand that had been shaking his shoulder, as if relieved.

His face was hidden by the backlight, so Vlad could not make it out, but he could at least tell that the man was smiling at him in welcome.

* * *

"Vlad, Vlad?"

"... Ugh."

The first thing he felt when he opened his eyes was a chill that pierced him to the bone.

His whole body ached as if he had come down with a fever, and the breath he exhaled felt cold enough to turn white.

He was sure he had been somewhere warm in his dream.

"... Justia?"

"It's been a while, Vlad."

Before his vision, only now coming into focus, was a curtain of shimmering platinum-blond hair.

A woman was looking down at him through the falling strands.

There was a warmth in her gaze that chased away the chill from moments ago.

"You must have been very tired."

Justia, holy knight of San Rosino.

The woman who had been with him in the fog-filled village was now stroking the tip of Vlad's chin with a worried expression.

It was to wipe away the beads of sweat Vlad had made while trembling.

"... Did you perhaps have a dream?"

"What?"

Seeing Vlad still unable to collect himself, Justia's thin brows creased fiercely.

Along with worry, a thread of unease began to form in her eyes.

"Wake him first."

"Yes."

At that moment, an unfamiliar voice came from behind Justia.

Whether because of that voice or not, the surroundings suddenly began to stir busily.

"Lord acolyte! Wake up!"

"You must come to your senses!"

To Vlad, who had only just regained his senses, the commotion was almost too much to bear.

Men's voices and prayers rang out from all around.

Sharp vibrations of sound struck fiercely at Vlad's ears.

"... What is going on?"

When he turned his head to look beside him, Nibelun was there, frozen as if bewildered.

And Jean as well, still asleep, leaning against his shoulder.

The young acolyte, who could not easily wake even under the rough shaking of the holy knights, was merely repeating faint lyrics as if talking in his sleep.

"... The match, keep..."

Words that felt familiar, as if he had heard them somewhere before.

Jean's faint singing pierced through the holy knights' prayers and burrowed into Vlad's ears.

'The match?'

In time with Jean's faint song, Vlad's armor and sword were growing hotter and hotter.

It was the same heat from the moment the voice in his dream had seized Vlad by the shoulder and stopped him.

* * *

"Good to meet you. I am Gunther, Captain of the Second Knight Order of the Northern Orthodox Church."

"I am Vlad, knight of Bayezid."

Perhaps because fog had settled in, even though it was midday, no proper sunlight entered the office.

Because of that, Vlad could not properly make out the face of the man standing with his back to the window.

"Yes, Vlad. I have heard your name often."

The man was striking, with teal hair neatly slicked back with oil.

The man who had introduced himself as Gunther was also the one currently controlling the city of Moshiam.

"I am honored that you know me."

"If anything, I am the honored one. Let us shake hands."

Vlad looked at the hand offered to him over the table.

For the hand of a swordsman who held a blade, it was far too smooth, without a single scar.

"Thank you for safely bringing Lord Andreas's acolyte here."

"What will happen to Jean?"

But to Vlad, that was not what mattered.

The appearance of the man before him and his empty praise meant nothing at all.

"I heard he is still asleep."

"... He will probably remain asleep until evening. According to our investigation, at least."

Gunther, who ran a hand through his hair with a troubled expression, took a large cigarette from the drawer and began to light it.

"An investigation into what? Has Moshiam still not been purified?"

"The people who can properly tell you about that are probably at the Vatican."

The smoke he had drawn deep into his lungs slowly began to flow from his mouth.

"And we are the people who came to investigate it."

"..."

The cigarette smoke spreading through the air was blocking the thin band of light that had barely seeped in past the fog.

A city where everything was hazy and unclear.

The dark fog drifting around him kept making Vlad think of the painting the Divine Maiden had sent.

"I will take the acolyte with me."

"That child belongs to the Northern Orthodox Church. He is not someone you may handle as you please."

"I am the one entrusted by the Bishop with the acolyte's safety."

"Even that Bishop belongs to us."

TAP.

The ring on the Captain's hand gleamed atop the desk he had lightly struck.

A ring signifying the post of a knight captain, of which there were said to be only two even in the Northern Orthodox Church.

There was probably no one present here who could oppose that authority.

"Once again, thank you for bringing the acolyte this far. From now on, we will take charge of everything concerning that child's person."

"..."

As he looked at Vlad, who dared infringe upon his authority, Gunther's gaze began to turn fierce.

He was the commander of the exalted holy knights, so lofty that a mere knight would hardly dare even look at him.

And yet Vlad was staring straight at him from beyond the cigarette smoke.

"Leave."

"... The city of Moshiam is also land of the Northern Alliance."

There was something he had to do, but he had not completed it.

Bishop Andreas had asked him to take good care of Jean, and Vlad, as his guide, had not acknowledged that he had handed over the young acolyte.

To such a Vlad, the authority Gunther possessed was merely secondary.

"I know that as a knight of Bayezid belonging to the Northern Alliance, I have the proper qualifications."

"What qualifications?"

A strange light began to flicker in Gunther's eyes as he looked at Vlad.

Come to think of it, this green youngster before him had not lowered his head even once in front of him.

"From this moment, I will invoke my right of investigation."

"What?"

A knight possessed not only duties and responsibilities.

There were rights unique to knights.

Knight Vlad had the right to exercise those rights at least upon this land where Bayezid's banner flew.

"If you will not tell me in detail why you intend to take Jean away, then I have no choice but to do this."

"... You are worse than the rumors."

A heavy silence began to settle along with the drifting cigarette smoke.

Gunther, the master of that silence, did not show any particular anger.

He merely looked at Vlad with a gaze of curiosity.

"They said you were a hard-headed bastard."

"Thank you for the compliment."

The cigarette burning down between his fingers seemed to speak for his bewilderment.

Then again, they said the fellow before him had even torn up the indulgence issued by Bishop Pierre.

* * *

"Vlad."

"Lady Justia."

Justia approached Vlad and Nibelun as they left city hall.

"Are you going back now?"

"No."

"Well, you should rest a bit before going back."

"... That is not it."

Perhaps she did not yet know the details, but Justia's attitude toward Vlad was completely unguarded.

Vlad found himself wondering what kind of expression she would make if she learned that he had just clashed with Gunther.

"By the way, why has Jean still not woken up? As the one who brought him here, I am worried."

"Ah."

Seeing Vlad wandering in the fog, unsure where to go, Justia naturally began to lead the way.

Vlad and Nibelun naturally began to follow her.

Her platinum-blond hair, clearly visible even in the dark fog, filled Vlad's field of vision.

"It is not certain yet, so I cannot explain in detail. It has not been long since we noticed the anomaly in Moshiam either."

"Anomaly?"

At Vlad's question, Justia turned back and began to stare at Nibelun.

"Is he someone you can trust?"

"No."

"..."

At Vlad's utterly firm answer, Justia had no choice but to gesture for him to come closer.

Nibelun, standing alone in the fog, merely perked up his ears awkwardly.

"When House Uthman was here, the city was sealed off, so we did not know the situation well. Still, since we heard the Vatican had stepped in, we thought only a few wicked traces would remain."

Vlad sent a warning glance toward Nibelun, whose ears were pricked beyond the fog, and focused on the story Justia was whispering into his ear.

"But in this city, we can feel the faint presence of something wicked. Though we do not know where its source is."

The holy war declared in the Barony of Uthman had been impressive if judged by scale alone.

Enough to make even the Iron Duke, who had tried to raise the Northern Alliance, flinch.

But in the place they had left behind, an unidentified root still remained, and the Northern Orthodox Church had only now confirmed the true nature of that root.

"So Jean is..."

"That is why we must investigate the acolyte you brought."

Now that everything had grown hazy beneath the thick fog, the only clue before the holy knights was the young acolyte lost in deep sleep.

"It is not a pleasant form, but in any case, the acolyte named Jean has become connected to the source we are seeking. It is probably some kind of curse targeting children..."

If there was a result, there would be a beginning, and following the thread connecting them was the basis of investigation.

Gunther likely intended to use Jean as a clue to find the wicked root spreading through Moshiam.

"But earlier, I saw you breaking out in a cold sweat."

Having said what she needed to say, Justia now quietly voiced the question she had been harboring since earlier.

That question was also connected to the curse she had just mentioned.

"Did you perhaps have a strange dream too, Vlad?"

"A dream?"

"Yes."

The first thing the holy knights investigated after entering Moshiam was the strange epidemic that had occurred only among children.

The children of Moshiam, who had supposedly fallen asleep when the sun rose and opened their eyes when the sun set, had all said they had the same dream.

"A dream with some kind of campfire, and all the children singing. That sort of dream."

"..."

"There are testimonies from parents saying that their children told them they had that kind of dream before they died. If you did have such a dream..."

What was the standard that divided children from adults?

As Vlad recalled his own dream, which matched exactly with the dream the children had described, he felt a dizzying sense of disaster.

'Shit.'

In a city where the sun could not be seen, the young acolyte was still asleep.

It seemed the child Andreas had entrusted to him was still singing along with the children of Moshiam.

* * *

"Fine. Even if you do not tell me separately, I roughly understand the situation."

After following Justia's guidance into the church and confirming that Jean was still asleep, Vlad was now walking toward the inn.

The fog was too thick for him to tell, but evening, when the sun would set, was approaching.

"You said you were a mage. Does anything come to mind?"

"Uh, um."

Even at Vlad's question, Nibelun was still stammering, as if unable to escape his own thoughts.

"It seems the curse has been hidden in something as intangible as fog. Since it has no substance, it cannot be seized."

"No, not that vague nonsense."

Vlad, who ruffled his hair in frustration, bared his teeth and began to growl.

"I am asking if there is any method. If there is not, you are leaving this place tomorrow."

"Oh! No. Not that!"

Perhaps Vlad's threat worked properly, because focus returned to Nibelun's amber eyes.

"In truth, I also recommend the method the holy knights are using. Whatever the method of the curse may be, it is bound to the tangible entity called Jean."

"Then what about Jean?"

"As for Jean..."

At Vlad's question, Nibelun scratched his head with a troubled expression.

"It would not be good to leave him be."

"... No need to wait until tomorrow. Get out now."

He had thought he might borrow even a cat's paw if it could be of help, but as expected, a cat was still a cat.

Then there was no need to keep him around...

PUMP. PUMP-PUMP-PUMP.

"What is that?"

"It is a smoker. Beekeepers usually use it to drive bees away."

Perhaps the threat had made him desperate, because the object Nibelun hurriedly pulled from his bag was something Vlad had never seen before in his life.

"Why that?"

"Fog is, by nature, something that hides what is there. Its intention is obvious."

PUMP. PUMP-PUMP.

When Nibelun pulled the handle, the smoker began to move with an unserious sound.

But the strange thing was that, completely unlike his explanation, no smoke at all came from the smoker's spout.

"Is it broken?"

"I wondered the same, so I tested it, and it seems to be working well."

Nibelun's face was turning red, perhaps because pulling the handle was hard work, but Vlad thought he could understand why he was going to such trouble.

"... It is disappearing?"

"Because it is false fog. That is what this smoker is for."

In the middle of an empty city avenue, Vlad watched Nibelun shake the smoker with all his might as if fascinated.

The louder the unserious sound grew, the clearer the surrounding scenery became.

The cat's curious tool was sucking in the fog and brightening the area around them.