The day after Nicold Ibuton was elected archpriest, an order went out to the Holy Knights—a sacred decree. It mandated that all members of the organization, regardless of their diocese or rank, were obligated to cooperate in the success of the upcoming spring offensive and fully authorized their deployment. Surely, no one could have anticipated such a forceful move from a man who was generally perceived as a gentle philanthropist dedicated to helping the weak.
At least, that was what I heard at the White Bell bookstore, one of Kafzen’s strongholds. In the end, however, the man himself didn’t show up. In his place was a young woman, almost a child, with brown wavy hair and a slight limp in her right leg. She introduced herself as Narche.
“The First Capital has been thoroughly cleaned. Allow me to express my gratitude to you, Xylo Forbartz.” Her monotone voice and blank expression made me wonder how sincere she really was. “We are especially thrilled about the election of Nicold Ibuton as our new archpriest and about Governor-General Kormadino’s demise. Both are significant contributions to the cause.”
“Great.” I wasn’t really interested, so I gave a half-hearted reply as I stacked a few books on the counter. I was allowed to take as many as I wanted as a special reward for the job. “So? Is that all you wanted to say to me?”
“No. Our captain has a message for you.” Narche uttered the word “captain” like she was taking a sacred vow, a sign that she truly respected him. “He has made time to meet with you for half an hour tonight. He must leave the First Capital soon, so he asks that you join him for drinks before he goes.”
“No thanks.”
“He said it would be his treat.”
“Still not interested.”
I turned away from Narche, books in hand. There was no point in staying here any longer. I had already been put through the wringer once by these people, and I didn’t want to owe the Twelfth Order any more favors.
Besides, I still had an even nastier debt to repay.
“Teoritta…and Patausche are waiting for me, and they aren’t in a good mood. It’s the last day of the Luffe Aros Festival, so I have to show them around and buy them whatever they want.”
“That sounds rough. You must have done something pretty bad to make them so angry.”
“Stop pretending you don’t know.”
Narche was clearly aware of what happened—she was part of an intelligence unit, after all.
“More importantly, let’s talk about the Saint.” I decided I had to bring up the topic before I left. “Do something about her. She’s reckless. She’s going to get herself or someone else hurt.”
“It’s complicated. We already tried assassinating her once, but we failed.”
“Uh-huh.”
She’d spoken so casually that I thought she was joking at first. But I wouldn’t put a thing like that past these guys. We were never going to get along. People like them would sacrifice the few to save the majority without a second thought. They were no different from the coexisters.
Though I supposed military officers and commanders, too, sent their men off to die in battle for the supposed greater good.
Guess we’re no different in the end.
As I stepped out of the shop, the sun was blinding. It was the second day of the festival. They were going to hold an inauguration ceremony for the new archpriest. The main street was even more extravagantly decorated than before, with stalls and food vendors lining every corner. In other words…
“Xylo! You are late!”
Teoritta rushed over, pouting. She clung to my arm, then punched me right in the chest. It didn’t hurt, but it let me know that she was still angry.
“I have already planned everything we will do today, down to the minute,” she said, thrusting her handwritten plans into my face. “First, we are going back to that shop to buy the silver bracelet. This is not up for debate. We will have them engrave today’s date and a special message inside. Then we are going straight to the theater to watch a play. Once that is over, we will check out the street stalls and games…” Teoritta traced the words on the paper with her finger, rattling off our schedule. Then she pointed at me. “You are to stay right here by my side the entire time! Got it?”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”
“Are you sure?” Patausche barked from the side, her gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Do you really understand why we—ahem!—why Goddess Teoritta is upset with you?” she added, clearing her throat as though embarrassed to admit that she was angry too.
I knew exactly how she felt, though. I’d be just the same if Lufen or Jayce found out I was genuinely worried about them.
“…I do.” So I immediately threw in the towel. “I’m sorry for being so reckless without discussing it with you first.”
“Hmm?”
“Oh?”
Both Teoritta and Patausche seemed genuinely taken aback, which surprised me. How stupid did they think I was?
“I’ll make sure to be more secretive next time, so you don’t find out.”
“Xylo!”
“You idiot.”
Teoritta’s punch was still weak, but Patausche’s grip on my collar was incredibly tight—it was obvious she was putting her full strength into it.
“You need an attitude adjustment,” she said. “I—we both feel this way. Stop trying to act like you’re a special exception. I will say this as many times as I have to. Stop deluding yourself into thinking you’re expendable. Your arrogance is appalling.” It sounded contradictory, but Patausche was completely serious. “You’re just an ordinary person. You may not be a bigshot, but you’re not insignificant, either.”
I wanted to tell her that I already knew that, but her intense glare shut me up before I could say a word.
“Like everyone else, there are people…who worry about you. Yes, that’s what you need to understand! What? You think you’re special? That you’re a lone wolf who has to handle everything by himself? You fool!” Her insults were brutal and felt undeserved. “If you don’t understand that, then there’s no hope for you!”
I was being berated, and harshly.
This is too much… What would you do in my place, Lufen?
I knew there was no way he could answer me.
Still, I had the vague sense that I owed these two something.
That day, I decided to buy matching silver bracelets for Teoritta and myself—a pair with identical designs. I wore mine on my ankle. The inscription read, “The world’s biggest idiot and the great Goddess of Swords.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was ridiculous, yet I decided to embrace it. Maybe laughing at the absurdity each time I was revived would serve as proof that I was still me.