Sword Pilgrim

A few days later.

The Church headquarters, inside a conference room.

Esther was attending a meeting, listening quietly.

“What do you think should be done about him?”

The subject, of course, was a prominent nobleman who’d become a hot topic lately.

A pilgrim nicknamed ‘the Judge’ –

– Callius, was the one being discussed.

“He should get the post, of course.”

“But he’s still just a pilgrim. He doesn’t have a sword that’s truly his own, that he’s united his soul with. He’s still searching.”

In short, he was imperfect and incomplete.

To appoint one such as him as an inquisitor?

“To have a pilgrim take on the post of an inquisitor, and even a captain at that, is unprecedented in the history of the Church since its founding in Carpe.”

“That’s true. Never once has anyone other than a paladin ever become an inquisitor.”

Tradition is important.

The act of setting a new precedent always unsettles the status quo, and disturbs organizational discipline.

“But his status is that of a count.”

Alvato, the leader of the moderate faction, looked at the hardliners sitting opposite him.

“A count becoming an inquisitor… can you think of anything more tempting for us?”

“Now the prestige of the Church is rotting in the mud. If we use him, we can root out the illicit activities of those noble bastards, and get some breathing room.”

Alvato inclined his head at the rest of the bickering bishops.

“Many nobles, including Artemion, have already died at his hands. Besides, he has the Sword of Judgment, that’s why he’s called the Judge.”

A sword that discerns lies.

Couldn’t they clean up the filth that riddled Carpe with it?

What was the price one would put on that?

“A sword that changes colour if you tell a lie. With that alone, we can hunt down the corrupt and save this ailing kingdom! Precedent? Tradition? Who cares?!”

“But –”

“Screw your ‘but’! He himself wants the job, what’s there to hesitate about! Callius is a rising star in the minds of the masses. Even those who always curse the Church as incompetent are singing his praises!! Do we still need to talk about it? It’s no small benefit for the Church if we just make him an inquisitor. Just approve it!”

The only reason to refuse his appointment would be tradition. Precedent. That was all.

There’d be no harm, and no benefit.

“Then why don’t we just make him a paladin?”

“What does he think?”

“That he’s still searching for his sword, so he can’t.”

“Ugh, pigheaded.”

As the debate bogged down and was only getting more and more tangled –

Esther, who’d been listening quietly, sighed.

“Sir Pope!”

“What’s going on, why are you…”

“I’m here to see my granddaughter.”

An old man had wandered in, careless like a neighbourhood drunkard.

His face was full of wrinkles and spots that showed his age.

And even though his skin was dry and cracked with age, and he looked old enough to be on death’s door, his voice and actions were still full of energy.

The Pope of the Order of Valtherus.

Felice du Evader Vallus.

As he spoke the word ‘granddaughter’, his infinitely affectionate eyes rested on Esther.

“Sir Pope.”

“You can call me Grandpa, you know.”

“I cannot call you, Sir Pope, who represents the Church, by such a title.”

“If you’re Sullivian’s granddaughter, you’re a granddaughter to me too. So call me Grandpa.”

“… Lady Sullivian has told me to not call you that.”

Silence engulfed the whole area.

Pope Felice, whose face had stiffened at some point, suddenly gave her a broad smile.

“…Heh heh heh! You really do take after her, you’ve got the same way of being honest without being shameless!”

“We aren’t related by blood.”

“Blood isn’t a problem. We are all beings created by God, so if you go back long enough, we all come from the same bloodline.”

This easy-going neighbourhood grandpa was the centre of the Church.

He was the 12th pope, known as the Pillar.

Although he’d retired from active duty, he’d once been a legendary paladin who’d firmly established his position in the realm of Masters.

Therefore, none of the bishops present showed anything but the utmost respect for him.

“But what’re you all discussing?”

“That is…”

After listening to the story for a while, the pope frowned and gave a brief verdict.

“Do it.”

“Yes? But…”

“Do it. Why’s this so difficult? Hell, give him a command. He’s the Hero of the North, right? What's the use of doing something half-baked?”

“Make him a captain, you mean? There is no precedent, something so unconventional…”

“The lack of precedent isn’t the problem. The real problem is this – will this be good for us or bad for us? So we have to do it and find out, how much good and how much bad comes from this. You bastards, you’re all so old and you’re still bickering like kids for something so simple. What is this, a kindergarten!?”

“…”

“You old fossils, how much longer do you plan to waste time growling at each other? You there, Alvato, yes, you! Are you the only one who still doesn’t know why you’re bald?”

“Why do you have to suddenly bring that up…”

“Milliman! You shave off your hair and beard too! How long are you planning to make fun of Alvato? Enough, I say!”

“… Understood.”

“Let’s go, Granddaughter.”

“I’m not your granddaughter, Sir Pope.”

“Heh heh, you’re a cute one. So, how’s Sullivian doing? Am I still forbidden to come visit?”

“Yes. Please don’t.”

“That nasty ol’ gal. But that’s also part of her charm.”

The pope swore that he could’ve won Sullivian's heart if he were just three years younger.

Although Esther thought it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

The pope laughed and started regaling her with a story from thirty years ago.

In the meeting room where a storm had swept through, leaving only an awkward silence behind, Alvato finally spoke up.

“Then, I’ll give him the captaincy of the sixth division.”

There were no objections.

A few days later.

“It’s the symbol of a captain.”

There was an insignia on the white cloak.

A pair of crossed swords were at its centre.

The pure white cloak engraved with a pattern symbolizing the Heretic Inquisition contrasted with his jet-black hair, giving him a very pleasing overall appearance.

With this, Callius had become an inquisitor-captain.

The one in charge of the Sixth Inquisitorial Squad.

‘I didn't know I was going to be the captain from the get-go.'

He had enough strength and had a splendid history, but there still should’ve been a process.

He was planning to get promoted as fast as possible, but the pope had decided to give him the position in one stroke.

It was an unexpected fortune.

“Congratulations, Callius.”

“Thank you.”

It was a simple inauguration ceremony.

The ceremony was being held in a brief format in Bishop Alvato’s office at Callius’ request.

A grand inauguration ceremony had been in the cards, but Callius had preferred otherwise.

It'd have just wated his time.

‘There’s no need to borrow trouble.'

He wanted to avoid various events that could’ve occurred during the inauguration ceremony.

For example, those murderous nuns from before might’ve barged in to kill him.

Of course, they weren’t the main reason.

‘Alvato du Vallus.'

The leader of the moderate faction.

One who was competing with Milliman for the next archbishop’s seat.

And –

‘The royal teacher.'

The current monarch –

Clara von Agatha Bright, Alvato was her teacher and ally.

Therefore he was an excellent candidate for a friend.

‘The queen is absolutely indispensable for the goal I want to achieve.'

So, it was naturally necessary to befriend those at the queen's side.

The Timid Queen of Carpe had to be approached with care, as she was one of the most cautious people in the world.

“I’ve always wanted to meet you face to face.”

“Oh? Perhaps, you think there’s a relic…”

“It’s not because of some sacred object. I don't believe in that nonsense.”

“Yes?”

Tsk tsk. Alvato looked at Callius with a deep gaze.

“How much trouble did you have to go through? I understand everything, so leave it to me.”

“… Yes. thank you.”

Callius didn't know what Alvato was saying he knew, but since the bishop was already shedding tears saying he knew everything –

‘… Come on.'

Things weren’t bad enough to cry.

This baldy was apparently a sensitive soul.

“How much heartache did you suffer? Being abandoned by your own parents! The strength you had to hide while pretending to be a fool has finally blossomed, so…!!”

“…”

Calius couldn’t be sure, but the other party seemed to be labouring under a pretty strange misunderstanding.

But it didn’t seem harmful, so Callius left him to it.

“Oh, right, right. This isn’t the time or place. I must’ve looked ugly.”

“No, no.”

“There was a recommendation, you want the job, and we want you to have it, too, so you can take charge of the sixth squad – but there’s a problem.”

“What is it?”

“It was a suggestion from the lieutenant of the sixth Division.”

“From the lieutenant? What suggestion?”

“That… if he can beat you, he asks for the right to not listen to you.”

The lieutenant of the sixth squad, as in, the office right below the captain.

Callius roughly understood what was going on.

Was this a tradition within the Inquisition?

Or was the man simply being territorial?

There were many possible reasons, but the main point was the lack of trust.

The Heretic Inquisition was an organization that dealt with doubts and heresy.

It was only natural that those seeped in its doctrine wouldn’t trust others easily.

“All the inquisitors of the sixth squad are suspicious of you. They’re wondering if you killed Druma.”

Alvato clicked his tongue saying they were being nonsensical, but honestly, it was true and there was nothing for Callius to refute.

“So go beat the lieutenant. That’ll shut them up.”

“Is it necessary?”

Honestly, it was annoying.

Instead of a fight like that, he rather wanted to go catch at least one of the spies inside Carpe as soon as possible.

『Kingdom Quest』

【Imperial Spies】

◆ Save the kingdom from ruin by killing the spies of the empire.

◆ Number of spies killed: 8/?

<Reward>「Monarch's Flag」

A Kingdom Quest.

The Monarch's Flag was a must-have item. The archbishop was a difficult adversary, with his resourcefulness and power close to a Master.

Callius was chipping away at his feet right now, but he was an opponent he’d have to face off against someday.

If he wanted to grab the tiger by the tail, he needed a stronger force if he wanted to win.

Raising his swordsmanship was naturally necessary, but the most essential part was…

‘Sanctuary.'

He needed to develop a sanctuary.

However, the swords Callius had now were all spirit swords, so he couldn’t create a sanctuary with any of them.

But if he got his hands on the Monarch's Flag, the story would be a little different.

There was a limit on how many times you can use it, and it’s high-risk, but the Monarch’s Flag allows even a spirit sword to do it, even if it destroys the soul of the sword in return.

It allows a spirit sword to develop a sanctuary.

The sword may break afterwards, but it’s still a trump card that can overcome the difference in power in a fight.

It was a relic Callius couldn’t allow himself to miss.

Because only a sanctuary can stand up to another sanctuary.

“If you become a captain without any subordinates, you’ll have difficulty working, and your performance will drop. Besides, this is a tradition. If you accept the duel and make them recognize your ability, they won't be able to say anything. With your skill, you should be fine.”

Step, step.

As I left Alvato's office, I thought deeply.

How to catch all the spies in one go, like fish in a net.

My feet suddenly halted as I found myself looking at a man leaning on the hallway wall ahead of me.

“Callius von Jervain. Or rather, I should call you Captain of the Sixth Inquisitorial Squad.”

“Who are you?”

“Are you perfectly blind?”

There was a scar on his nose.

Among the four great noble houses, those with stigmas on their noses are from the East.

“Gradas.”

Only the Gradas family.

And there was only one chief inquisitor from Gradas in the Heretic Inquisition.

“Genos von Gradas.”

“Yeah, so you do know me. Jervain's greenhorn.”

“I’ve heard of you.”

The man who oversaw the whole of the Heretic Inquisition.

Chief Genos.

As somebody from the family in the East, he was a swordsman who specialized in the quick sword.

All families had their own characteristics, but Gradas of the East were particularly famous for their speed.

And Genos was a special case even among them.

Swish–! That was the quick, stealthy footwork that was his trademark. I drew out my sword as soon as his form disappeared.

Claaang–!

Genos’ sword and mine collided.

Sparks fluttered between us, and in the next instant, Genos’ form vanished again and fell far away.

“Thank you for the welcome.”

“How long have you… guess it doesn't matter. Anyway, we aren’t much different in age, and I have a higher rank, but you’ve got a count’s title, so it’s perfect that we came across each other! Let’s both now move on, shall we? No need to make a fuss.”

Contrary to his frivolous tone, the weight of his sword spoke quite a different tale.

He was faster than I thought.

Because there’d been no warning in his aura, if I hadn't drawn my sword straight away, I might not have been able to block.

‘Catarrh.'

A sword suited for assassins.

Genos was using a hidden blade.

His spirit sword.

Catarrh.

An assassination weapon, worn on your arm, that reveals itself when you apply pressure just the right way.

Catarrh's unique ability was nothing special, but when it met Genos, the synergy was no joke.

He was already fast, and to have the ability of [Silence] on top of that?

If he put his mind to it, there were only a handful of people who could survive his assassination.

“Today was a warning.”

Shh.

He took only one step, but appeared right in front of me, like a ghost.

“Don’t be too mean. Because we’ll end up annoying each other.”

“…”

“If you work too hard, paperwork will start piling up. Understand? Work neat, work smart, and things will be just perfect. Got it?”

Swish.

Finished with his speech, Gradas again disappeared in a flash.

“There’s one more annoyance.”

‘Cat Walk’ Genos.

That quick and quiet footwork was truly befitting his moniker.

Chief Inquisitor Genos –

Although he had an unusual personality, that Gradas family footwork was quite interesting.

It was something I really wanted to have.

Editor's Notes:

None for this chapter.