“Are there any entrances or exits in the wall?” There was a path within the walls, but no path went outside. Col thought she had omitted it for simplicity’s sake at first, but… “Of course not,” she replied, then lifted it up high above her head, spellbound. “We’re going to live here forever together.” “………” Had her tail been out, it would have been wagging furiously. This girl’s head was in the clouds, and this side of her came out every so often. “Redraw it.” “What?! Why?!” “Because.” He doubted she would actually build a town like this, but this map still came from inside Myuri’s head. He had thought she had grown past asking him to make her his bride, but she was still thinking things like this. Thoroughly annoyed by his reaction, Myuri put the paper away in a fold of her clothes, as though not wanting him to nitpick her secret plans anymore, then went on the offensive. “So, what were you doing, Brother? Standing around doing nothing?” Her gaze was cold. The urge to reprimand her for being distracted from their objective was strong, but he was an adult. So he shoved that temptation aside and replied, “I was not doing nothing. I was listening to the streetside sermons throughout the town.” It seemed as though Myuri briefly understood his intentions, but her gaze drifted upward, as though trying to recall something, and she spoke with a curious tone. “…I thought you would be happier about that. Were they boring?” He was about to tell her streetside preachers were not spectacles like bards and musicians, but he recalled how absorbed Canaan would get when they spoke of theology, so he remained silent. He had to reflect on his own actions when observing another’s. “It was not as though they were…boring. Their sermons were very well done, and they answered all my questions accurately.” “So why do you look upset?” Col did not know how to answer that. Here, many preachers had come together, and the people were listening with more fervor than the average churchgoer. They had hammered nails into the ground, built shops to which people brought their goods, and they were now conducting lively business. What if all of this had been built under the name of the Twilight Cardinal? Col felt like he was going to fall in the vast gap between who he was to himself, and who he was to the rest of the world. That was likely the most apt way to express it. But if he were to tell this to Myuri, she would likely tell him it was because he kept making himself smaller, and he knew this was a reality he himself had to accept. And so he closed and opened the same hand he had been staring at not long ago, and said— “Listening to all those sermons made me realize I still have a great deal to learn myself.” Myuri stared at him. The way she did so was exactly the same as her mother, the wisewolf. At last, her deep eyes, ones that could see through lies, narrowed slightly, then eventually closed in defeat. “I don’t want you talking to Canaan all the time just because you need to ‘study.’” She was likely half-joking, half-serious. “I know,” he said to the kind wolf who let him escape, and she poked him in the side. In the meanwhile, the bell rang again, and the area around them was enveloped in zeal. “Twilight Cardinal!” “Grant us God’s protection!” “Twilight Cardinal!” The voices were loud—Myuri drew up her shoulders and covered her ears with her hands. They stood in Ohlburg’s center square. The building people had been referring to as the Church of the Beginning stood right in front of them, but the area around it was crowded with the overflow that could not fit inside. If it was this loud outside the building, then the inside must have been cacophonous. But this Church of the Beginning was much too shabby to reasonably be called a church—it was a crumbling stone structure dressed up as a church. A part of the wall was falling, and there was not even a door on the front entrance, after all. That allowed them to see the lectern inside from the outside; a man appeared and stood behind it. Those inside the building seemed to have lined up early for this sermon, so they were even more enthusiastic. They immediately fell to their knees and bowed their heads. There were even some around Myuri and Col who got on their knees as well, not minding that they would be in the dirt and mud. A solemn, weighty silence fell over the area, one that even Myuri felt hesitant to break, and the man who called himself the Twilight Cardinal spoke. “God sent me here.” Though Col could not see his face, his voice told him that they were about the same age. The sermon began with that line—what he said mostly lined up with what the man in the monk’s habit told them when they first arrived in the city. He had awoken to God’s true teachings, journeyed to right the Church’s wrongs, and after traveling the continent, he arrived here. It was here that Lord Hobeln, the one who strongly opposed the wicked archbishop, who sat upon his laurels as prince-elector, expressed how impressed he was with him. The young man who posed as the Twilight Cardinal lifted up his right hand and pointed to the second floor of the Church of the Beginning. The people looked up, folded their hands, and prayed. Col shifted, squinted, and saw there was a noble sitting in the special guest seating on the second floor, waving magnanimously. A banner hung from the balcony, showing a crest of a crossed sword and hammer. That must have been Hobeln. “House Hobeln is trying to take back their privileges in the grand market, which they have lost. But it is not for profit. If House Hobeln takes back their rights to hold the grand market, then they are prepared to offer it all to God. In essence, he will undertake the great cause of building a new town on this land that aligns with God’s teachings!” There was a cry that held back excitement, or perhaps it was a sob of joy. Col could hear people whispering “Savior.” “And this building will become the replacement for the corrupt cathedral—it will be the perfect place for us to restart our journey with God as the Church of the Beginning. Because—” The young man paused, drawing everyone’s attention to him, then continued, “This building was left behind by the ancient empire, built by the original Church, as their front line in battle against the pagans.” Myuri held her breath. The crumbling stone building clearly had not been left abandoned for only a few decades. It was strange that a stone building stood alone here, in the middle of a vast bogland where trees could scarcely grow; perhaps there was once a town or settlement here. And this very stone building had been used by the original Church, which had once inspired, soothed, and empowered people. “Here, we will build a city that is fair, just, and follows God’s teachings.” The way he spoke was refined, and with the way he held himself and moved his arms, his speech was truly convincing. And more convincing were the old remnants of the building upon which he stood. “Look upon Estatt. Why do they need such a large cathedral to preach God’s teachings? Nowhere in the scripture does it say they may use their vast amounts of donations to get drunk on fine wines and feast on rich meats. That is a city built on lies.” Sighs of agreement and ire rippled through the crowd, and Col found himself nodding along. “Here we have no tax, no overbearing officials. There are no priests indifferent to your hard lives, who take what little silver you have as the price for faith. We are brothers and sisters who share in God’s teachings.” Col could hear gasps of wonder, and even sobs. “We will build this town with our own hands. A town for ourselves. A town for God.” Then came cries of agreement, extolling God, and voices calling out to the Twilight Cardinal. The people began to push forward, trying to get as close as possible to their savior; Myuri gave a little yelp and jumped into Col’s chest. Col wrapped his arms around her and stiffened his elbows, trying to make sure she was not crushed. Everyone was enthralled, and they paid absolutely no mind to them. He knew, of course, the man standing at the lectern was not the Twilight Cardinal. But the way he spoke convinced Col this was no mere scam artist. There was a possibility this was a preacher who had gotten a little hasty, who, in his anger at the Church’s injustices, had gone just a tad too far pretending to be the Twilight Cardinal in an attempt to overthrow the rotten Church. That he chose this place, where a relic of the ancient empire once stood, showed he was not doing this on a whim. The presence of one of the first churches gave his sermons on righteous faith an impressive amount of weight. Once the people’s excitement reached its peak, the man who called himself the Twilight Cardinal said: “But there is one unfortunate piece of news I must relay to you all.” The young man dropped his shoulders, and several burly looking men appeared beside the lectern. Everyone held their breath—they had brought out another, smaller man by the shoulders, a rope tied around his neck. “This man had been conducting trade here in Ohlburg, the Town of Hope.” The man’s body was speckled with mud, and his clothes were torn. And the thick rope around his neck marked him as a criminal. “This town is without tax, and the people here are honest—this should be the ideal place for any to conduct business. And yet this man falsified the weight of his bread and changed the size of the cups that measure ale, all in the name of unearned profits.” The crowd reeled. That was a rather hefty crime in any regular town, and anyone living in a settlement large enough would have been victim to a corrupt merchant like this once or twice. The crowd began shouting insults. “Thief!” “You’ve betrayed God!” They were demanding he be hanged in all but words; the Twilight Cardinal nodded slowly and said, “Your anger is understandable. It is true he has turned his back on God’s teachings. However…” He paused, then knelt before the tattered man. And then, he undid the rope around his neck. As bewilderment rippled through the crowd, he placed aside the rope with a calm expression, helped the man stand, and embraced him. “He has been punished, and he has repented. Thus, we must forgive him for his sins.” There came a gasp of awe. The young man slowly glowered, then said, “Then what shall we do with the archbishop, who refuses to acknowledge his sins, yet is greedy for even more power?” The people held their breath, and in that moment, it seemed they understood. They were like loose, dry flour, which suddenly clumped when exposed to the faintest amount of moisture. “We must come together. And we will grow in numbers as you all support this town. May God be with us!” The people replied in chorus, repeating, “May God be with us!” “Bless the Twilight Cardinal!” The fervent audience began to crowd around the Twilight Cardinal even more, everyone pushing harder to get as close to him as possible. Myuri, not making the same mistake twice, skillfully slipped through the rush of people, and this time pulled Col behind her. When they finally managed to escape the crowd, they spotted several baskets being passed around. People put in their own clothes, coins, and some even gave their jewelry. It traveled overhead as it passed from one pair of hands to another—a receptacle meant for donations. As Col stood shocked by the noise, the heat, the impact of the sermon, he noticed a figure nearby. “Please—the Church of the Beginning would like your help.” There was a man dressed as a priest holding a basket, smiling. Col knew for certain, in that moment, the man who called himself the Twilight Cardinal was a fake, and he felt like he had to say something. But as he struggled to find the words, someone plopped their hat into the basket—it was Myuri. “May God watch over you.” He then folded his hands and recited, as though he had just recently memorized the phrase. The man dressed as a priest replied respectfully and made his way over to someone else. Col wordlessly watched him go, desperately trying to swallow the sermon—no, the play that had taken place right before his eyes. That young preacher had worked the people up into a fervor. The sight was burned into his eyes; when he turned around to look at it again, Myuri tugged at his sleeve. “Brother.” He followed her gaze to see what he suspected was a noble coming down from the second story of the Church of the Beginning. A few called out to him, but most were enraptured by the Twilight Cardinal in the distance, so they hardly even noticed him. Hobeln seemed so forlorn not simply because of his emaciated physique. He had no retinue, and he hung his head, as though he was attempting to hide his face. “I wonder if he’s real.” “………” The man who was supposed to be Hobeln walked with a hunched back, and he entered another building near the church. His demeanor was a stark contrast to the way the fake Twilight Cardinal had preached so boldly. Had anyone told Col now that this was the man who was trying to take back the rights to hold the grand market from the wicked city of Estatt for the sake of constructing his own holy town, he would not so easily believe it. He thought for a moment that he, too, was a fake, but this was supposed to be Hobeln territory. Pretending to be a Hobeln should be impossible here. There must have been a reason as to why he seemed so lacking in vitality. “Hold on a sec,” Myuri said. She approached the building Hobeln went into, roamed around the perimeter, then came back. “What was that for?” Col asked. Myuri closed her eyes, held her breath, then lightly rubbed her nose. “I memorized the scent.” A person could imitate another’s looks, but to imitate their scent was supremely difficult. If that were not the real Hobeln, then Myuri would notice somewhere. “So, what should we do?” The false Twilight Cardinal was still surrounded by a wall of people. Myuri knew better than anyone else, even Col himself, that Col was the real Twilight Cardinal. But not even she attempted to denounce him as a fake. She must have understood the meaning behind the warning Col gave her back in Aquent, seeing how worked up all the people were. Accusing him of being an imposter would be like splashing cold water on boiling oil. The crowd’s fervor would explode. “Let’s…leave the town for now.” Ohlburg was much too full of vulgar spirit. Col wanted a bit of peace and quiet to digest everything he had seen and heard. Once they left Ohlburg, the land became a desolate field. The quiet, in contrast to the lively town in the distance, made everything they had just experienced feel even more like a dream. But past the crude, handmade townscape, Col could see a bit of the Church of the Beginning, where all the people’s enthusiasm had been concentrated. The area around here seemed to be on gently sloping land, and from a distance, he could tell the whole area was, indeed, on a slight incline. Ohlburg itself sat on a soft plateau, with the Church of the Beginning in the middle. “The ground feels weird here.” Myuri gazed at the scenery as she led the horse along by the reins and Col sat on its back. In times like this, Myuri would be typically poking at all sorts of Col’s faults, but she was not. Perhaps Col seemed more visibly shaken, much more, than he originally thought he’d be. “…That wasn’t really the Twilight Cardinal, was it?” Col dismounted, sat on a spot in the silvergrass that Myuri had stomped down and made firm for him, then posed a most ridiculous question. “No. He didn’t even look like you.” Judging by the voice that came from the lectern, he must have been a man around Col’s age. “But if it turns out you have to do stuff like that, then I don’t think you’d be very good at it.” This was not her usual teasing; Myuri said this with sympathy. After she sat beside him, she brought her knees to her chest and leaned her head against his shoulder. “To be honest, I was a little scared, too,” she murmured. Mania was the perfect way to describe what they had seen. And there was a familiarity to that mania. “It was a bit like that night in Atiph, wasn’t it?” That was the first town after leaving Nyohhira in which they and Hyland had their first real battle against the Church. The people there had been dissatisfied with the Church’s tyranny, too, and they had been given the perfect excuse to question the Church, revealing the dark side of their emotions—they had even dressed up a stray dog in priest clothing to make a fool of the creature. The merchant that had been brought out at the end of the sermon was much the same—if given any excuse, the crowd would have likely hanged him in an instant. But that was going too far, Col thought. Giving the wrong weight of bread or changing the size of the cup that measured ale was a common dishonesty and could indeed be counted among the more serious crimes, but the greatest punishment was typically a fine and perhaps being forced to sit backward on a donkey as it roamed the town, as a way of making an example of the guilty party. A typical townsperson would have been perplexed to see that punishment be suddenly elevated to a noose, but everyone there had clearly been expecting death in the name of justice for God. The one who had been enabling such an atmosphere was none other than the young man claiming to be the Twilight Cardinal. “What should we do?” Myuri asked, a bit hesitant, as though conscious of what he was going through. Col slowly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and replied, “We will drive the imposter away.” Myuri’s eyes went wide and out popped her wolf ears. “I thought perhaps it might be someone whose faith has gone too far. Perhaps they were so focused on carrying out justice that by sheer momentum, he ended up borrowing the Twilight Cardinal’s name to denounce the cathedral city and criticize acts of bad governance.” He inhaled, swallowed the lingering taste of the mania at the back of his throat, and continued. “But after that sermon, I am now convinced. That man has no faith. He is simply a swindler who is cashing in on the people’s dissatisfaction by spurring them on. And it may be my responsibility to awaken all of those who are being tricked.” Myuri, eyes wide in shock, looked as though she was about to cry. Col had used stronger language to rally himself, in a way, but perhaps it was a bit too direct for Myuri. He panicked for a brief moment, only for Myuri to speak, her eyes brimming with tears. “Brother… You’re so…reliable right now…” “Uh… Hmm?” He did not mean for his voice to sound so strange. Myuri reached up and patted his head, as though stroking it. “I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do if you started whining like a coward.” She rubbed her cheek against him, ruffled his hair, then pushed him away fairly roughly. The mischievous girl smiled, tickled. “You seemed so impressed by the preacher. I knew things would get sticky if you were tricked by him, too.” “………” He gave her a pointed look, and she smiled back at him. As always, she was keeping a close eye on him. “I know I was nodding when he criticized the Church’s wealth, and it is true I felt his sermon was greatly convincing. But upon closer inspection, there is plenty that simply does not sit well with me.” Ohlburg, the Town of Hope. It was an excellent place, but Col had traveled and seen his fair share of the world. “If this were in a rural and isolated area, I could see a town like this being built as a settlement. But this is right under the nose of a cathedral city, ruled by an archbishop who is a prince-elector.” That, and it was nothing like a typical post town. They were opening their own market, which was clearly in conflict with the cathedral’s interests. “I asked about that, too. I asked if there was gonna be a war with Estatt.” “What did the people say?” “That the Twilight Cardinal wasn’t seeking war, and that the evil archbishop would probably kneel before God’s proper teachings one day. So if the archbishop attacks them, then that would show the whole world exactly who is in the wrong.” There were plenty of stories about those who only continued to pray in the face of a tyrant, and they eventually beat the tyrant back. Even from the rough outline of information Canaan managed to gather, it seemed as though the cathedral was avoiding a direct confrontation with Ohlburg. That was because the cathedral was very conscious of the fact that the moment they directly opposed the one who called himself the Twilight Cardinal, the rest of the world would be fully convinced who was the bad guy. But sometimes, force could eventually make it possible to overturn logic and established fact. If it came to it, the cathedral city would consider military options, and history was ultimately written by the victors. “It makes it hard to imagine House Hobeln has any powerful influence.” If that had been the real Lord Hobeln they saw, then he truly did not have the proper retinue with him. And it appeared as though even the swindlers did not hold him in very high regard. “And I realized there was something else that was weird, too.” Myuri seemed proud of herself. Col asked, “Do you mean the merchant with the rope around his neck?” In a twist, she was so surprised that her expression went blank. “What? How did you know?” “Because I know. I hope you remember I once traveled with your mother and father.” Myuri’s assessment of Col was truly extreme. While part of her seemed to be holding him to highs that were not realistic, she also tended to think of him as a fathomless fool the rest of the time. “No merchant can falsify the weight of bread and change the size of liquor changing cups on his own. Do you remember what the innkeeper at Estatt said?” All of the merchants and artisans had all gone to Ohlburg for business. That meant this was no temporary town that had sprung up randomly on the side of the road—all of the people from the cathedral city had rushed to the town in droves. That meant all the industries’ boundaries had been kept in place from one place to the next. The bakers did not deal in ale, nor did the brewers deal in bread. It was clear if anyone gave it a moment of thought: that crime was a fabrication. “And while his clothes did seem to be tattered, now that I think back on it, he did not seem to be injured.” When Col mentioned that, Myuri puffed out her cheeks, vexed. “I only noticed that he wasn’t injured—” “And that there is no tax is, quite frankly, a lie.” “Huh?” “After the sermon, do you remember all those baskets that were being passed around for donations? Those who were carrying the baskets even came to people who stood beyond the crowd, where we were. The entire air about him made it seem as though we could not refuse. That is exactly what a tax is.” Giving it more than a moment’s thought showed that there was quite a lot that seemed fishy. “And the hat you put in the basket—” All of a sudden, Myuri reached out to clamp both of her hands over Col’s mouth. “Hey! You can’t say all of it!” Except Col managed to avoid Myuri’s hands, and that only convinced him. It was the act of a shrewd wolf, one who acted in place of her brother while he was too busy being overwhelmed by the acts of imposters. “You were going to see where those items were being collected and then seeing how they were being sold, yes?” Myuri let her shoulders fall and puffed out her cheeks, as though her ultimate prank had been found out before she even got a chance to execute it. But she sighed deeply and reluctantly turned to look at him. “Yeah. Thieves always have some kind of hideout.” The moment Myuri knew the merchant who had been committing injustice was, in fact, just an actor for the spectacle, her brain had raced. This was the same girl who had almost instantly discerned the territories of the bad boys back in Aquent. A closer examination made it obvious the supposed Twilight Cardinal was not the only scammer—he had accomplices. And their next move had to be uncovering their den. “So, how do we find their hideout?” There was nothing more reliable in the world than the way Myuri smiled in situations like this. The sun was very warm during the day, but it was still chilly at night. And they were in the silvergrass fields—the slightest breeze filled the air with a mournful whistling. As Col stood here, it brought back memories of how helpless he had felt as a wandering student. Perhaps he was still a child, dreaming of being called the Twilight Cardinal. As these thoughts crossed his mind, there came the peculiar sensation of something crawling along the ground and the sound of grasses being parted. When he looked up, a wolf’s head popped out from the grass. “I found it.” She quickly shook herself off—some dirt from the grass had gotten stuck to her fur. Col stood with a frown, all to make sure Myuri would not see how relieved he was to see her like this, and brushed off his rear. He then turned to gently stroke the neck of the horse, who seemed more uneasy than him. “Wait here for a little longer.” He did not think the horse understood his words, but Myuri was with them, so he figured it would get across somehow. The horse stamped once, twice, still clearly worried about the silver wolf. “Aren’t I more comfortable than the horse?” The wolf let him climb on, and she posed that question to him as they rushed through the silvergrass field. Perhaps the horse they had rented from Estatt was a mare. “What was the hideout like?” Col asked, not entirely comfortable continuing their earlier conversation. Myuri leaped suddenly, and he almost fell off. “There are so many little rivers everywhere. I’m gonna get muddy.” Col nodded, leaving it at that. “It was a lot like that old church.” “A ruin, you mean?” “Something like that. There was a cave in the ground that I guess they dug the mud out of—I think they were taking stuff inside. I could smell alcohol, grilling meat, and I could hear instruments and girls laughing from inside, too.” “I see…” It was the most stereotypical image of thieves. If an inquisitor came through and discovered the Twilight Cardinal and his band of fools, things would get rather sticky. “But the cave was a little weird.” “Was it?” Myuri walked with Col on her back, and she stuck her nose up toward the sky. “I think there are multiple secret entrances. I could smell meat coming from a place farther out in the field, too.” Only a wolf could detect something like that in passing, but it was still strange Myuri found that questionable. “It is not all that odd for thieves to secure secret passageways to ensure their escape.” And they were quite familiar with people who were very cautious individuals, like Eve. He thought Myuri was the type to love things like secret passageways. “Yeah, but, that’s not really it…,” she said and then came to a sudden stop. “See, like here.” “Hmm?” She kept advancing at a slowed pace, but she firmly tapped the ground with her front legs as she did. “There’s a whole bunch of stuff buried throughout this entiiire field.” “………” Col could not see very well in the dark, so he slipped from Myuri’s back and leaned down to the ground to see. Processed stone, not natural rock, was buried in rows beneath the dirt. “Is it the foundation for a stone wall?” That was his first thought, but Myuri, still in her wolf form, deftly shrugged. “All the stone buried around here seems to lead to the church in Ohlburg. It’d be a really long wall if that’s what it is.” Col followed the direction in which Myuri turned her head, and he could see the faint lights of Ohlburg burning in the distance. “And these things were stretching from your fake’s hideout, too.” “………” And the hideout had apparently been unearthed from the dirt. Col pictured a bird’s-eye view of the land, and murmured, “Citadel ruins?” Myuri’s large ears and tail piqued. She had just been sketching her dream town—an eerie one with no entrance or exit in the walls that surrounded it. “I have seen wall ruins like this on hilltop strongholds before…” Of course, he was not talking about the next part of Myuri’s dream; he was picturing how much trouble it would be in the event they decided to arrest them all, if they were using an abandoned stronghold as their base. But the stones at his feet were a bit too precarious to be the foundation for a wall, and there was another thing that was odd. “They spread over much too wide an area. And it’s also strange the foundations have been left relatively untouched while the walls themselves are completely gone.” Myuri dipped her head to sniff the stones, then said, “I thought it might be a secret underground passage.” “A passage?” “Some sections seem to be hollow inside, and the faint smell of meat was seeping out. So I thought maybe they used these to surprise the enemy from behind by following the passages.” They did look like the remains of a passage when she put it that way, but he had a feeling it was a bit too narrow to crawl through. Well, perhaps a passageway like this was a piece of cake to traverse for a hunter who specialized in burrowing animals, like rabbits. But all Col could think of was Le Roi, fallen upside down in the waterways of the crumbling noble manor. “I would believe the underground passages for escaping a siege would be deeper. And I think the scale is much too big.” Col crouched and brushed his hand against the stone, partially buried in grass and mud; Myuri’s nose rubbed up against his shoulder and she plopped her chin on him. Though she was not as big as Holo, she was too big to fit under the “cute pup” category, and she was heavy. “Sure, but they said the ancient empire used this place as a base in the war, and I bet it was a crazy battle.” Canaan had said the same. There was considerable distance between Estatt and this place, but the sea level was said to be much higher long ago, which meant the shoreline back then would have been farther inland. With that thought in mind, it was not odd to consider that Estatt itself might have been closer to this very spot. So perhaps once, there was a military base that was attached directly to the city, and served as the final line of battle in the intense wars with the pagans…or something like it. “It does not quite seem to fit, but I cannot think of any other reason for what it would be used besides battle.” “It’s definitely for battle.” She pushed down on his shoulder with her chin as payback for figuring out the false Twilight Cardinal’s fraud before her. “But if this ruin dates to the time of the ancient empire, then there may be records in the Estatt archives. We should investigate when we return.” That was because Estatt was the city that served as a forward base in the era of the ancient empire, after all. We would know right away with Canaan’s help, Col thought, and the weight from his shoulder disappeared. He turned to see Myuri looking at him curiously. “What’s gotten into you? I didn’t think you’d be interested in stuff like this.” Though she always demanded he listen to all of the stories she wanted to tell, she was oddly fearful in these situations. “Because I believe it may be one of the things that has made the swindlers more convincing.” “Hmm?” Myuri lifted her head, comparing the spot they were in to the distant lights of Ohlburg. “These ruins were built in a time when no lavish cathedrals existed in the world. Back then, the Church existed only to spread faith, and knights of the empire traveled alongside the great Church Fathers to bravely make their way to the farthest reaches of the land in pursuit of their noble mission.” Myuri loved tales of adventure. She understood what he was getting at. He could see her silver fur stand slightly on edge. “I doubt the fervor in Ohlburg came solely from the imposter’s good sermon.” That was because there was something else that resonated so powerfully with them, something no one could deny. Perhaps what caused them to grow so excited was the breath of the ancient empire. “Is there…a legend here?” Though he felt the affectation was a bit too strong, what they wanted to say was essentially the same. And they, too, would need to get many of their allies involved in the near future. “They are using my name. I’m allowed to reference their methods in order to gather allies, no? Words alone have their limit. With the ruins of an ancient church at our feet, it will be very clear what our intentions are,” he said as he stood, and just as Myuri did, he looked to Ohlburg. Though now it was a featureless plain of silvergrass, knights and priests had once gathered here and warred intensely with pagans. After vanquishing their enemy, they built a base here, then pressed northward—many people had passed through these lands. Perhaps the faint breeze was the whisper left behind by those who once traveled across this land. Things that could be seen and touched possessed an indescribable power. “But if that were the case, then I still do not understand these swindlers.” Myuri, who had been gazing at Ohlburg’s lights as though they were the distant past, turned her huge frame to look at him. “Don’t you think they’re quite adept at a strange number of things for being mere scammers?” Myuri stared at him, then shut her eyes for an extended moment. “But that’s what we’re going to find out, right?” She huffed, and her red eyes gleamed. She was more than ready. “Yes. Let us go, like the knights and priests of old once did.” Myuri’s jaws parted in surprise, then her tail began to wag, and she pressed her nose into his lower back. “Wh—Myuri! Stop that! It hurts!” In recent years, he was scarcely able to hold her when she flew at him in girl form, and now he felt in actual danger when she was in her wolf form. Perhaps he had gone a little too far in comparing them to the people of the past, here, in this very place where those tales once played out in the time of the ancient empire. When Myuri finally calmed, Col hopped on again, and he did not forget to whisper to her, “This is just an investigation. We will be routing the enemy later.” Her wild, red, wolf eyes turned to stare at him, and in lieu of an answer, she rushed forward. She was still a bit too rambunctious to call herself a knight—Col’s sigh became wind, and vanished. The field was empty, but if Col were to stand still and really strain his ears, he could hear the faint sounds of music and laughter. There were no houses around them, and perhaps a superstitious individual might think it was the spirits having a party. It was, in fact, a fantastic place for the scammers to make their hideout, but it was also rather convenient for Col that their hideout was so far away from Ohlburg. Myuri howled, one that was somewhat reserved yet loud enough to be heard, and the out-of-place music came to a sudden stop. A wolf? Roaming a plain like this? Are we sure it isn’t just a stray? After a brief pause, where Col was almost sure he could hear voices saying those things, there came the creaking of wood from a corner in the towering grasses, and light poured out. Grass had been carefully mounted on the door, so it was not easily discernible at a glance. It was pushed open, and people poked their heads out from the underground stronghold like field mice. But the night outside was no different; the silvergrass only occasionally swayed in the breeze. There came a sigh of relief—Man, it was nothing—and the door began to swing closed. There was another howl. And this time, it was closer. “Hey—” “Are we sure it isn’t a stray dog?!” “Who cares! Check the other doors!” The conversation was panicked, and the door shut with a loud noise. Col even heard it being bolted. The third howl had a hint of delight to it—it was as though Myuri could smell their growing panic even from a distance. All her big brother could do was sigh as he watched everything unfold through the stalks of tall grass. It was not long before Myuri appeared, walked atop the ground that covered the underground stronghold, sniffing loudly, then turned to look directly at Col. Her red eyes, a gift from her mother, shone bright, and her tail, which she typically did not give too much care, stood proudly and whipped back and forth. She turned to the sky and opened her mouth again. She held nothing back for her fourth howl—even Col felt intimidated hearing it like this. The silvergrass, completely at the mercy of the nighttime breeze, shuddered as well and rustled in unease. When the echoes of her howl vanished, Myuri whirled around and stood before the door from where the men had peeked out. “Grr! Grrrrrr!” She growled, wolflike, but at the same time not in a manner he had ever heard before, and scratched at the door with her claws. Watching as a nonparticipant, the way Myuri’s tail whipped back and forth as she clawed at the door only made her seem like she was pretending to be a cat scratching its claws on wood, but those inside likely felt nothing but dread. The grass peeled away, the wood scraped, and the light from inside poured out. Col could hear faint yelling and screaming. When Myuri glanced at him, he thought she was smiling. “Hruff! Woof! Hruff!” Her labored breathing was deliberate; she stuck her nose through the crack in the door. The people inside must have been frightened out of their minds at the sight. The howls and the rough breathing made it very possible it could have been a hungry stray. But what stuck its head through the crack in the door was a wolf the size of a bear. “Hruff, hruff, hruff—” Myuri stuck her nose through the door, but then quickly drew out her head and stepped back. Those inside must have been hoping this devil of a wolf had lost interest and was readying to leave. But Col could tell Myuri was counting the seconds. The mischievous wolf suddenly lifted the upper half and front legs of her body, like a scythe, and then brought them down hard on the door. “Grrrowl! Broughhhh!” She made a show of ripping the door to shreds with her front paws, and as she growled like hell’s guard dog, she gently tore into the broken door with her teeth. A wooden door was like a sweet made of nothing but eggs and flour when at Myuri’s mercy, and it broke apart with satisfying cracks. But there was a good reason why she refrained from going inside and instead spent ages loudly dismantling the door. Her tail wagged happily in contrast with her terrifying growls; when the door was no longer fit for purpose, she finished it off with a stomp of her paws, then looked at Col. “The coast is clear, Brother.” The poor moles had apparently escaped safely through their secret passageways. “You went too far,” he said, exasperated. Myuri, satisfied she got to play the part of wolf to her heart’s content, began to wag her tail with enthusiasm and nudged at him excitedly, just like a dog mistaking a scolding as an offer to play. “Is it empty inside now?” Col briefly peeked in to see what looked exactly like a feast interrupted by an attack. “I…don’t smell your imposter anywhere. He probably has his own hideout somewhere in the town.” Chairs were overturned, mugs had fallen, steam rose from still-warm soup, and there were many candles burned to stubs. With her keen nose and ears, Myuri stepped inside and deftly sniffed out some drumsticks or some other food from the tables as she wagged her tail, signaling for him to follow her. “It’s rather spacious down here…and all made of stone.” He had imagined something tighter and more like a natural cave, but all he could picture before him was a stone building that had sunk into the ground. But when he looked up, something struck him as strange. “The ceiling…is also stone?” If this were a ruin from the ancient empire, then it was reasonable to think the structure had slowly sunk into the ground over countless months and years. But the rounded ceiling was made of a flawless interlocking of stone. And when he looked very closely at the wall and floor, he saw the gaps between the stones were perfectly and neatly filled in. This was unlikely the thieves’ handiwork, so it had likely been built this way from the start. “It’s almost as though this is…” He looked at the sad sight of the interrupted feast in this underground stronghold, and a new thought suddenly occurred to him. What if this place had not sunk over the months and years, but was instead built underground to begin with? But for what purpose? It was too orderly for hermits who intended to simply conduct ascetic training and highly unlikely to be any part of a church. As those thoughts crossed his mind, he felt damp air on his right hand. Myuri rubbed her nose on him, then waved her head, signaling him to follow. The hideout did not have doors cut into the walls like a regular building, but was instead all connected with oddly narrow corridors, which could hardly be called hallways. Vague memories of something that happened when Col was a wandering student came back to him. He was so hungry he dug a hole in the embankment by a river, chasing a large rat, and crawled inside its burrow. This structure bore a surprisingly close resemblance to that. The thieves were using the open spaces connected by the corridors as living spaces and storage areas. Some places held stacks of alcohol and food, while others held all the items collected from donations. There were a few branching paths here and there, and one of these corridors had marks on the floor, as though something big and heavy had been dragged across it. Col followed the trail with his eyes to find a large crate overturned. Spilling out from the inside were gold and silver coins. “That must have been quite the exercise.” They must have attempted to take the entire crate with them in the panic of Myuri’s attack, but they had been unable to lift it due to its sheer weight, dragged it instead, and then ultimately pushed it over. He could picture the conversation: Just leave it! But—! Wolves don’t eat gold—just run! Col prayed for the poor, sinful thieves, then rushed after Myuri as she pressed ahead. When he caught up with her, she stood with her head lowered before one room, sniffing the air that seeped from it. After a moment of that, she lifted her head, turned to look at Col and begged to be petted, so he did. And that was when he heard a person groan from inside. He tensed, but Myuri had apparently been waiting for that reaction of his. The mischievous wolf grinned, stood to her full height, then gently pushed open the thin door with her nose. This room was unlike the other storage and communal spaces they had passed thus far—this was someone’s private room. The only light was from a candle, burnt to the bottom, glowing weakly, and Col could only see the faint outlines of things inside. But the air of the room stank of things even he could pick out—booze, grease, and the characteristic human stench of someone who had given up on everything. A gaunt man lay face-down on the table. It was Hobeln. “Alcohol and…gambling.” Scattered across the table was an unorganized mess of cards and dice.
Chapter 117
39 min read