Chapter 21 - Shaperia

The Valkyrie Shaperia was one of the original novel's protagonists, a woman who would one day be called the Demon Butcher.

A hero who would reach the realm of demigods when it came to eradicating evil. Befitting the mythical feats she would achieve, she had been extraordinary from birth: she was born with the ability to sense Demons.

No Demon could conceal its identity from Shaperia. The crone spirit was no exception. Even with its rotting body hidden inside Ilea's flesh, its stench inevitably lingered. Now that the adjudicator had caught that lingering scent, Ilea could no longer avoid investigation.

In the dungeon beneath the lord's castle, the imprisoned Ilea looked through the bars.

"You will be in danger too if you stay here, young master."

Yohan shook his head.

"Didn't you see? Shaperia failed to discern my identity. That means I'm safe."

"... Shaperia. Is that her name?"

"Yes. She's young, but a troublesome enemy. Though for now, she's only a trainee holy knight."

"You speak as though you know her well."

"Has there ever been anything I didn't know?"

Yohan's access to information surpassed imagination. He knew Ilea's identity and objectives inside out, and had even found the forbidden library with ease. He had continued to demonstrate that knowledge while taking control of the estate, so she could hardly dismiss his confidence.

"You did know everything."

"This is no different. Shaperia has the ability to detect Demons."

"I take it you prepared for that, young master."

Shaperia had discovered the crone spirit, but she had failed to detect Yohan's black blood. He had taken precautions.

Yohan pointed to his ring finger.

"Kazan's ring."

It was the holy relic he had corrupted by sacrificing Betra. Originally, it had warded off demonic energy; now it resisted holy power.

"Against the Holy Hero's legacy, Shaperia's power is nothing more than a child's little trick."

All clerics manifested their powers through holy power. Since Shaperia also used holy power to detect Demons, her ability had no effect on Yohan while he wore Kazan's ring.

Ilea looked down at her shackles.

"So you did have a countermeasure ready. Though you didn't breathe a word of it to me. I suppose we weren't in the same boat after all."

"Don't take it personally. A situation like this hardly counts as a crisis for you. In fact, you've already worked out how to escape, haven't you?"

Shaperia and Ilea's first meeting had been the same in the original novel. An adjudicator with her sword drawn, and a witch on a torture frame. Yet the witch would escape the crisis as if to flaunt her success. Events were following the original novel.

"Regardless, if you had warned me, we could have skipped all this."

Yohan nodded.

"True. There was no need to put you through this. Even so, I had a reason for not mentioning Shaperia."

Ilea stared at him without answering. Yohan continued.

"The pilgrimage party will take you to the Sacred Congregation for the Investigation of Heresy."

The Sacred Congregation for the Investigation of Heresy was an inquisitorial body directly under the Holy See. Suspects underwent various investigations there.

"Most people don't come back alive."

"You're different. You'll be released before you arrive. But there's something I need you to do while they're taking you there."

"And what would that be?"

"I want the fragment of the Great Saint's corpse. Open the casket holding it for me. Your magic can do it."

The pilgrimage party was traveling the continent to recover fragments of the Great Saint's corpse, and this procession was escorting one they had found. Yohan intended to steal it.

Ilea gave an incredulous laugh.

"You're going to steal the Great Saint's corpse? Even if you succeed, you'll spend the rest of your life being hunted."

Each fragment of the Great Saint's corpse was classified as a Class One holy relic. The moment he laid a hand on one, he would make an enemy of the most dangerous organization in this world. It was utterly reckless.

"They won't even know they've been robbed. I can make certain of that."

Yohan's face was full of certainty, but Ilea could not entrust her fate to his confidence. After a long deliberation, she spoke.

"I don't know why you want the corpse, but I don't think I can join you this time. I'm sorry."

"Why not at least hear my plan?"

Ilea shook her head.

"I hear footsteps. Please leave, quickly. I'll pretend I never heard any of this."

Yohan's expression remained calm as he spoke.

"That's a shame. I thought it would interest you."

"It's very interesting, but not enough to risk my life. I'm sorry to disappoint you."

"If you change your mind, tell me anytime."

Just as Yohan was about to leave, a cold voice reached him.

"This is troubling."

Shaperia had come down to the dungeon and was staring at him.

"A private meeting with a suspected apostate? Do you want to draw needless suspicion upon yourself?"

Yohan looked up at her.

'She's fairly tall. Sixteen or so, perhaps.'

When no answer came, Shaperia's brow furrowed slightly.

"I'm asking why you are here."

Yohan answered with a blank expression.

"I came because I was curious whether my servant really had contracted with a Demon."

Shaperia sighed.

"I don't know whether she has a contract, but she is certainly harboring a Demon. If she was possessed against her will, she will receive treatment at a monastery. If she contracted of her own volition, she will be punished accordingly. Either way, that is for the Inquisition to decide. Do not involve yourself any further."

Yohan gave a faint, derisive smile.

"The Inquisition. I've heard they decide the answer before they begin investigating. If that's true, my servant is already as good as dead."

Displeasure crossed Shaperia's face.

"You are insulting the Great Saint's judges."

"When the process is so haphazard from the very start, it's hard to trust the investigation."

"... What do you mean by that?"

"Am I wrong? Branding someone an apostate after a single look at her face seems exceedingly primitive."

Shaperia glared at him.

"The Great Saint gave me the power to discern Demons, and my eyes have never once been wrong."

Yohan shrugged.

"If it is the Great Saint's power, then I must accept it. The Great Saint could hardly err."

"That goes without saying..."

"But the humans who wield it are bound to make mistakes from time to time. Never grow overconfident; always strive to improve. Your power is wondrous, but it can just as easily trample someone's life."

The words sounded rather too mature to have come from a young boy. Moreover, Yohan's advice was something Shaperia always tried to keep in mind.

She glanced at Ilea without thinking. At once, her eyes trembled violently. The Demon she had sensed earlier that day had vanished without a trace. Beyond the bars, there was only a silver-haired girl sitting demurely.

The corners of Yohan's mouth lifted.

"Admit your mistakes and correct them. One of the teachings the Great Saint always emphasized."

With those parting words, Yohan left.

* * *

In the castle's drawing room, Baron Grian Miyatro sat facing the younger brother he regarded as an enemy.

"You don't seem pleased to see your little brother. Our first reunion in ten years, and you haven't even asked how I've been. You just keep glaring. You're making me uncomfortable."

Despite his words, Kril looked perfectly comfortable. He had sunk deep into the sofa and even propped his legs on the table.

Grian snorted.

"You haven't changed a bit. Still insolent and loathsome."

"You've changed quite a lot, Brother. For a start, you've grown fatter. A physique worthy of the Watcher of the Abyss. Ha ha!"

Grian ground his teeth at the taunt.

"Yes, I'm the rightful Watcher, unlike a coward like you. Just look at yourself today, hiding behind the Church's backside. Were you too frightened to come alone?"

Kril had deliberately timed his visit to the Miyatro domain to coincide with the pilgrimage party's arrival. As long as he traveled with the Church, his safety was assured.

Kril nodded and folded his arms.

"You're an unpredictable man, Brother. You have been since we were children. Haven't you often let immediate gain blind you to the trouble it would bring later?"

Had Kril not accompanied the Church, Grian might indeed have broken aristocratic custom—by inviting him over and killing him.

Grian slammed his hand down on the table.

"I'm better than you and your endless overthinking! Isn't that why Father chose me?!"

Kril shook his head.

"Father was like you. Consumed by envy and jealousy, he cast out even his own son. He failed to make the right choice."

Grian's fat face contorted wildly.

"You wretch! How dare you!"

Kril spoke calmly.

"Compose yourself. I didn't come here to trade insults. Neither did you, did you? Just tell me why you summoned me."

Grian's hand shook around his glass. He wanted to challenge Kril to a duel, but that was out of the question. Kril had kept training and still had a muscular body, while Grian was a pig made of nothing but fat. In the first place, the Baron had never once beaten his brother. At anything.

Grian spoke as though he were chewing on blades.

"... I wasn't the one who summoned you."

"What do you mean?"

"My son summoned you."

"Raguel summoned me?"

"No. My illegitimate son."

Kril gave a disbelieving laugh.

"I've heard about the bastard, but you're saying he summoned me?"

"Yes. He'll chew you to pieces."

The Baron spoke like a whore hiding behind a thug. The sight was so ridiculous that Kril burst out laughing.

"Ha ha! Hiding behind a brat who's barely out of the cradle! Brother, just how low have you sunk?"

"Laugh while you can."

As the laughter continued, a knock came at the door, followed by a calm voice from outside.

"It's Yohan. May I come in?"

The Baron called out as though he had been waiting for this.

"Yes! Come in!"

A black-haired boy entered the room. Kril turned his gaze toward Yohan and spoke, suppressing his laughter.

"Good to meet you. I hear you're my brother's shield?"

Yohan bowed.

"Yohan Miyatro. A pleasure to meet you, Uncle."

Kril frowned slightly.

"You've already given him the family name?"

Ordinarily, an illegitimate child could not use a noble family's surname.

Grian snorted.

"Even a scoundrel like you calls himself Miyatro. What does a surname matter?"

Yohan looked at Grian.

"Father, would you leave us alone for a moment?"

The words had barely left his mouth before Grian sprang to his feet.

"Y-yes. Take your time."

Gone was the man who had been bellowing at the top of his lungs. All that remained was an almost servile manner. Toward his own son, and a bastard at that. Kril could scarcely believe it.

As the Baron promptly left the room, Kril stared after his brother in utter disbelief.

"What..."

"Uncle, I'll get straight to the point."

Yohan had already taken a seat. He spoke calmly.

"Give up your claim to the barony. It's the only way you'll survive."