The person walked over to them, robes flowing, and sat on the chair opposite Isana. “What do you want, baldie? Don’t make me pull out your remaining hair follicles.” Elsia, the silver haired woman in robes, glared daggers through her blindfold. “Why are you all gathered here? What’s Isana doing here?”
“Put simply, it’s a gathering of people who’ve got ties with Zig,” Bates said, scratching his head with a wry smile as he recalled what happened in the past.
Elsia rubbed her forehead and groaned, somewhat getting the gist of what was going on. “Urgh… I see. It’s about what happened this afternoon.”
“That’s it. Why don’t you help us out? You probably owe him a favor too, don’t you?”
Bates grinned. He had caught wind that Elsia was in a similar scuffle with Zig the way the Wadatsumi had. Understanding the situation, Elsia flipped her silver hair and turned aside.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve struck a deal with that man. It took over two million for me to get my weapon back!”
While Elsia was lamenting the fact that she had to spend more than she expected, Urbas leaned over to Bates and whispered: “Why did you get her here?”
“Huh? Oh, I guess you didn’t know. She used to be a Claritist, see.”
“Huh?!” Urbas let out a shocked gasp, freezing at Bates’s sudden revelation.
Meanwhile, Isana’s ears twitched with interest and prodded. “Really? News to me. Guess those robes aren’t just for show.”
“Tch… You need to stop running your mouth, baldie.”
“Come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Bates cackled as Elsia glared at him. She eventually heaved a resigned sigh. “Well? What do you want me to do?”
Elsia was already square with Zig; the man had said so himself and he wasn’t the type to go back on his word. For better or worse, he was unusually honest about his work. There weren’t a lot of his kind nowadays. She also understood who he was because she fought him. He didn’t even crumble when he had to go three-to-one against her party. Getting him to owe her a favor might not be a bad idea… Theoretically, at least.
“Thank you for being so understanding,” Bates said. “It’s real simple. Zig and Siasha went to the Claritist church to beat them up.”
“Why?!” Elsia cried, banging the table at the outlandish statement. She immediately regretted her decision. She hadn’t been expecting to be asked to conduct peaceful mediations between the injured parties, but that was too much for her to take in.
“Actually…” Urbas then calmly gave her the same explanation he gave Bates.
“Right… I see,” Elsia sighed as she played with her hair. “Yes, that would be bad.”
“You know what the taboo words are?”
“For the most part. I won’t tell you what they are since you might mention them by accident, though.” From the ex-Claritist’s perspective, this was quite a mess.
“What kind of person would even go to enemy headquarters and start beating people up? He’s out of his mind.”
“But that’s just like Zig, isn’t it?” Isana smiled, recalling the time Zig visited the Jinsu-Yah.
“What’s the big man got to do with you, Isana?”
“There’s too much to talk about. Let’s just say I owe him a favor.”
Another one? Elsia sighed again. Every time that man came into a conversation it was always about favors or work. Seriously, what is his problem?
“Do you know what we’re up against, Elsia?” the battle junkie asked, wide-eyed and caressing the hilt of her sword, ready to go.
“Most of them are inexperienced fighters. There are adventurers mixed in, but their power level varies from region to region. Most should be below fifth class… That’s about all I know.”
“Huh… Fifth class? Zig should be able to handle that by himself.”
“If that’s all they had for a fighting force, a couple thugs or adventurers would be able to handle them, sure…”
However, the Claritists had more than that. There was a reason why the mafia steered clear of the Claritist church. It wasn’t just because of their connections from being widespread all over the country.
“The Claritists have a section dedicated to raising warrior monks.”
Bates’s eyebrows furrowed at the ominous phrasing. “Warrior monks I get, but raising them…?”
“They raise them. Devoted members of the faithful would offer their children to the church as a sign of piety.”
Isana and Bates looked at each other wordlessly; they knew where the conversation was going.
Urbas broke the silence for them. “What happens to the children?”
“They are indoctrinated and trained in the art of war. They are taught about the evil sins of the demi-humans and the perfection of man from an early age, weeding out all doubt to the contrary. They don’t want them to feel guilt when dealing with sinners, after all. I was there once. Got out, though.”
Bates swallowed, realizing she had carelessly blurted out her past. “Sorry.”
“Stop frowning, baldie,” Elsia teased the regretful looking Bates. “Your idiot smile suits you best.”
“Hmph, get off it,” Bates spat back, catching on to what she was trying to do. “I just got carried away by your fake nun vibes is all.”
Elsia had buried her past. She had no problems talking about it. “These warrior monks are powerful even if there aren’t many of them. They deal with a lot of disputes, but they also have a wealth of interpersonal experience.”
“We’ve run into some Claritists before, but I’ve never heard of a warrior monk,” Urbas said.
“That’s just proof that you live an upright life, Urbas.” Urbas tilted his head, blinking at the sudden compliment.
Under his innocent gaze, Elsia closed her eyes behind her blindfold. The old guilt of bringing down judgment on sinners assaulted her. She had been truly blind in those days. “The Claritists publicly proclaim demi-humans as sinners, but they rarely ever attack them. They’re an important part of the labor force, after all.”
The nation wouldn’t sit idly by if the Claritist Church started going around killing demi-humans. No nation had the luxury of eliminating all its cheap labor. There had been exceptions, though. “The rule is suspended for demi-humans who actually commit crimes. There is a silent expectation that the Claritists will take care of them.”
“I see. So that’s the warrior monks’ primary task. Dealing with disputes is like a side thing.”
“That’s how it is. Most demi-humans are physically stronger and take up professions which take advantage of their strength, like adventuring. Dealing with them requires enforcers with at least as much strength.”
A specialized task force that hunted down demi-human criminals… Those were the warrior monks of the Claritist Church. The stories were no exaggeration considering Elsia’s strength, herself a former warrior monk.
“I see. Sounds fun—uhh, dangerous.”
“Zig would be in a bad spot if he had a mob of those guys pile up on him.”
“Copies of Elsia running around… I don’t even wanna think about it.” Urbas and Bates nodded grimly.
Elsia then eased their worries; they seemed to be taking the situation too seriously. “That won’t happen. The warrior monks are few and far between. They’re few enough that the Claritists can’t afford to deploy several in one place. Not to mention the runaways. But… There is something more dangerous than a warrior monk.”
“What could possibly be worse than them?”
A question no one wanted to ask but one which had to be. So, Urbas threw it out despite already being weighed down by his anxieties.
“A warrior monk showing excellence will be granted a special office. A title granted to he who has slaughtered many demi-humans and made them pay for their sins—Remitter.”