Chapter 119

CHAPTER THREE The next morning, they returned to Ohlburg to check on the town. It was as lively as before, still overflowing with faith, and the Church of the Beginning was packed for morning mass. The Twilight Cardinal seemed to be somewhat sleep-deprived, but they were too far away to really make out any details. The priests nearby also seemed to be a bit tired. Perhaps he was going a bit too far assuming they had stayed up all night preparing for another wolf attack. Now, everyone around him seemed to be a swindler, but Myuri, who was presently doing her own thing, was sharp—she would surely be able to tell the difference between real and fake preachers. He knew the collections basket would come straight to him once mass was over, and so he left the Church of the Beginning before that happened. He left Ohlburg before waiting to meet up with Myuri because the air in the town was much too thick; he did not want to stay long. None of them, including his fake, were small-time scoundrels hoping to make a quick coin. They were a group of organized swindlers. And what were they going to burn when they fanned the people’s anger into a roaring blaze? He remembered what Myuri had pointed out, and all the weapons he saw in the darkness last night. It was very likely the one to give the command to take up arms would be the man who called himself the Twilight Cardinal, and it would be those who worshipped the Twilight Cardinal as a savior who would arm themselves. Simple scammers trying to make money had no need to do such things. And that meant what crept beneath the feet of those whose faith was being fanned was the shadow of an unsightly plot. Those who trusted in the name of the Twilight Cardinal were possibly in danger. “Broootheeer!” After leaving Ohlburg, Col made his way back toward Estatt, leading the horse on foot, when something slammed into him from behind. It clung to him, and this annoyed him. But he understood that Myuri saw he was sinking into his own darkness, and that she was doing this on purpose. And so he swallowed whatever scolding he might have normally given her and asked, “How were things with you?” Myuri held freshly grilled meat and freshly baked bread, wrapped in large leaves, in both her hands. She had brought her spoils of battle from the night before to the shops and bartered. “I think there’s about ten scammers in all. And if we count the people who weren’t in the hideout, there were another ten who I thought could be a part of it.” Myuri had left her scent all over the hideout in last night’s attack. She could, to a point, pick out those who had been there, even the next day. “At the very least, it would be exceedingly reckless to attack Estatt with so few people.” And that meant all those weapons and armor were not meant for that group. Their purpose was to the rile up the populace, saying it was for the sake of protecting faith and the faithful. “And I heard something bad about Ohlburg,” Myuri said as she unwrapped the packaged leaf—a delicious smell wafted from the inside. “I told a wicked-looking merchant I accidentally donated something really valuable of mine, and that they wouldn’t give it back when I asked for it. And he told me something straight away.” Col was unsure if he should praise her for that or not, but what was certain was he could not belittle her judgment and acting. “It sounds like everything that gets donated to them is sold off in other cities. When I bought pepper from him, he told me it’d get sold off to a town upstream from the river that flows through Estatt. And he told me the same thing you heard about taxes. Came here ’cause they heard it was a no-tax market, but that ain’t it at all! These scoundrels’re askin’ for donations day in and day out, and them depraved priests are just makin’ quick cash for themselves! Business here’s finished!” She started imitating the merchant partway through. He could vaguely picture the merchant’s face—teeth missing, deep wrinkles set in leathered skin. But there was one word that stood out to him. “Pepper? Did you say pepper?” Myuri was in the middle of working on a big bite of the grilled meat, her mouth stuffed. There were black specks dotting the juicy red meat. Myuri turned away in a huff, stuffed her mouth full of meat, as though telling him she was busy at the moment. “Don’t tell me you used the gold from last night to—” “I told you! I didn’t steal any!” Myuri said, took a piece of bread from her hand, then shoved it in Col’s face. “I just traded what I couldn’t carry!” “………” It did not seem as though she was lying, but it was still hard to outright say that the way she relieved the hideout of its meats was not stealing. Then again, it would be much too suspicious if their rations remained untouched after a wolf attack, and it would be even worse to purposefully waste food—her excuses were perfectly logical. He had felt like, in the gaps between justice and justification and her brother’s judgment, she had become like bits of ground pepper. “Anyway, we know for sure now that your fake and his friends aren’t committing crimes just because they feel like it. I also asked about House Hobeln.” The bread was slightly soggy, perhaps due to the heat coming off the freshly grilled meat. Col bit into it, then looked at Myuri. “The merchant told me he’s a fallen noble who’s at the end of his rope. He has debts with all the merchants in Estatt, and he said even his manor got taken away. He was in the hideout because he had nowhere else to go.” Last night, there had been one poor noble left on his lonesome after all the other swindlers escaped the hideout. His territory was peatland that could barely sustain any crops. And if he had nowhere else to go, then the crest hanging on the wall of that room was not a sign of respect from the rest of the band. That banner was Hobeln’s final reminder of his past. “The scammers lured him into their scheme and are using him. And even though he knows this, he can’t leave after everything that’s happened, so he wallows in self-pity by drinking… Doesn’t that fit him perfectly?” Myuri had traveled, learned the joys of stories, and had even begun to pen her own tales—her vocabulary had clearly grown. But it seemed to Col that all she learned were dangerous words, and that gave him a headache. And the problem was the words lured, used, and wallowing in self-pity fit what he had seen all too well. The only thing left to do was find out what, exactly, was causing the blackout drunk noble’s pain—was it the scammers’ greed, or Estatt’s cruel intentions? Regardless, this was not something they could overlook. It was not because his cohorts were using the Twilight Cardinal’s name to their own ends. They were fooling people, and they were trampling this poor noble underfoot. There was no justice to be found here. “God knows.” Col took the piece of bread Myuri traded for and bit into it. It was clear there was some sort of serious plot afoot, but all the clues they had managed to get their hands on were too big to chew on. They would have to cut up the material they had managed to get and rearrange the pieces until everything made sense. Their latest discovery was that buried underneath the feet of those who gathered in Ohlburg was an alarming cache of weapons. That was the main thing on Col’s mind as they returned to Estatt. Fortunately, one of the sharpest minds in the world was waiting for them at their inn. “Miss Eve!” Col had wondered who it could be when he spotted the oddly ornate carriage outside the inn, but Myuri knew right away and she rushed forward for a hug. Surprisingly, Eve was not wearing any elaborate clothing, but she was accompanied by the umbrella girl, who could not exactly hide her natural beauty, and Az the bodyguard, who was a man of few words but had also gently taught Myuri swordsmanship. Myuri hugged both of them and went around to say hello to everyone. She must have been overjoyed seeing everyone for the first time in a long while, and was enjoying the surprise itself. Col approached the table to offer his greetings as well. “I did not think you would be coming yourself.” The letters he had sent from Aquent to both Hyland and Eve reported that an imposter of the Twilight Cardinal had appeared and detailed their tentative plans to combat the problem. He had also requested to lean on their connections and knowledge so he may make himself known to those in power on the mainland as quickly as possible. He had assumed a messenger with a letter would come, so he was shocked to see the great merchant herself. “What do you mean? My cute little boy is about to make his debut in every court worthy of being called one. Do you think I’d stand on the sidelines for this?” Eve smiled devilishly, and Col could only return a peeved one. It was then he realized Myuri was staring at him. Her face told him she considered herself another one of her foolish brother’s guardians. “The moment you appear in any court, the local traders with any sort of influence will start rushing over. I need to let everyone know exactly who this little lamb belongs to.” He spotted Myuri nodding along to every word Eve said. Col hung his head and quickly said, “There is one problem we must take care of first.” “An imposter, was it? I hear about cases like this all the time, but to think someone I know personally is a victim.” Eve stood and jerked her chin. “I have a room by the harbor. We’ll talk there.” She began to brisky walk out, and the innkeeper bowed incessantly toward her; Col surmised he had been given a very generous tip. Myuri joined Eve and the others in the carriage, while Col rode the horse he was borrowing and followed behind. On the way, Myuri occasionally stuck her head out to look back at him and wave enthusiastically. Col had no choice but to wave back. The carriage went straight to the western part of the city, and eventually went past the walls. Though they were already outside of the city, the roads were paved and it still looked like they were in town. The harbor had gotten farther away from the city proper as the coastline receded, and the district that connected the two could have been called a whole other city. This area was noticeably less bustling than inside the city walls, and after a short while, placid waters soon came into view up ahead. “Always a warehouse, I see.” The carriage came to a stop before one of the buildings that lined the water. Eve shrugged in response to Col’s comment and quickly went inside. When he hurried after her, who should he find waiting inside but Le Roi and Canaan. Once everyone took their seats around a big table, Col told them what they saw in Ohlburg. Myuri spoke enthusiastically about discovering and infiltrating the hideout. Her excitement grew with every word, and Col knew she would end up spinning some tale about fighting a dragon in its underground lair if he let her; he picked a good place to interject. “At the moment, we have two primary concerns: the possibility that the drunkard in the hideout was indeed Hobeln himself, and the massive array of weapons.” Myuri pouted, her story interrupted. But she had been so absorbed in the telling she had begun to sweat, so when Canaan handed her a cold drink, she accepted it and behaved herself. Le Roi was the first to respond. “That must be the lord of House Hobeln. The bookworm nobles in the city told me about his manor being repossessed. I do not consider it odd at all to hear he has gotten himself wrapped up in a plot happening in his barren lands and was found blackout drunk in the swindlers’ hideout.” It would have been very simple if Hobeln turned out to be the mastermind, but Col remembered how Hobeln left, back hunched after the fake Twilight Cardinal’s sermon, and how drunk he had been at the hideout. The chances he was behind everything seemed wildly low. If anything, it seemed far more likely he had gotten involved against his will, and he was being used. Eve spoke next. “A lord who cannot feed his people is no lord. The most that can grow here is grass to feed livestock, and even that is questionable at best. I often hear of floods in these parts as well. There are a surprising number of lords who find themselves in terrible straits, tied to land that brings them nothing but hardship.” Col could vaguely picture Eve wearing a cold smile while forcing those unfortunate nobles to take out loans from her. He shook his head to banish the imagery from his mind. “That seems to be the case here,” agreed Le Roi. “Moreover, I have heard that caring for the land was even more of a handful in the past, when the sea level was higher. I believe the rights surrounding the grand market were handed over to the city generations ago due to how difficult it was to manage these lands.” Col had seen for himself the challenges a place like this had to offer. The damp alone had been enough to drag down Myuri’s mood. One thing did strike him as odd, though. “My experiences in Nyohhira give me some idea how difficult it must be to run the grand market, but Estatt seems to be handling it well, no?” The cathedral in the city was massive, and the light burning through the night in the spire could be seen even from the outskirts of Ohlburg. That was the light that seeped from mountains of wealth. He thought back on the raised voices he heard in Ohlburg that criticized the cathedral. “The Church itself is a lot like the grand market to begin with. It’s different when a ruling noble does it.” When Col looked to Eve for elaboration, she shrugged at him and continued. “People go out of their way to attend, even if it means trouble for themselves, and they even donate. Do you know how much easier it could be if they don’t need to collect the funds they need to run the market as taxes?” Baskets had been passed around after the sermon in Ohlburg, and people were practically fighting each other to donate. Of course, people took a different attitude when it came time to pay taxes. “If they support the fake Twilight Cardinal and let their followers come together naturally, then they could easily copy the cathedral. And in that case, the weapons make sense.” Myuri reacted to that last bit immediately. “They do?” There was a clear gap in power between Ohlburg and Estatt. Anyone with half a brain could tell there was no way they could win against Estatt, and that was exactly why Myuri had come to the conclusion this was all being orchestrated by Estatt. If that was the case, it did not matter what Ohlburg’s chances of victory might be. They simply wanted to show the Twilight Cardinal had instigated a war. And by doing so, they would be telling the world the Twilight Cardinal was a dangerous individual who threatened those in power. That would certainly explain why the band of swindlers were collecting weapons. But Eve was seeing something Myuri wasn’t. “I know you love war stories, little lady. When one party conducts a siege, how much more power do you think they need compared to the defending party?” Myuri was tearing into the pork ribs. She chewed, swallowed, then said, “I usually hear ten times more…” “Then they could hold their own pretty well.” Eve wet her lips on the liquid that filled her cup, made unusually of glass. Col wondered what the wicked merchant was trying to get at, so he and Myuri both tilted their heads. But Myuri quickly leaned forward. “Oh, right! You mean it isn’t about attacking the city, but defending themselves against the city?!” “What?” Col was taken aback, and Eve flashed a meaningful smile. An overwhelming difference in strength. If those perspectives were flipped, then the existence of those weapons took on a totally new meaning. “It’s open ground, and at a glance the whole place looks unfit for defense, but the land is unsettled. If they force the attackers to go around the underground shelter, then the invaders are going to have an awful time in that terrain. Soldiers on foot will get stuck in the mud. Knights in heavy armor will sink. Their horses will slip and fall. A total fiasco. That town won’t fall so easily.” Myuri nodded along, and Col agreed it did make a certain sense, but he could not quite bring himself to believe it. Eve stroked her chin pensively before continuing. “But the real question is whether they think they can survive a straight fight. That I’m not sure about.” Myuri looked disappointed by this. “They could just be buying time, collecting as many donations as they can before they make their escape.” There was a huge difference between refusing to give up easily and deciding to never give up no matter what, but the idea of buying time seemed to fill in the gap between them nicely. The people of Ohlburg had come together through sheer will and the depth of their faith. Estatt was quiet due to how many had left for the religious town that had sprung up seemingly overnight, and it was likely the gap in their military strength was closing fast. But Estatt was an imperial city ruled by a prince-elector first, and a cathedral city second. Its sphere of influence likely included lords far beyond these bogs, ones who ruled over fertile land. The numbers Estatt could mobilize would be sizable. They would not sit back and remain silent while someone built a town right under their nose and then undermined their grand market. That meant there was plenty of possibility the other prince-electors’ armies could be called in for backup, and even if Ohlburg did decide to resist the siege, they did not have even a one in a million chance of victory. Then was it all like Eve said? Nothing but a way to save time by collecting donations and offerings before they run? “I would like to discuss that point,” Canaan said. He had remained silent until that moment. Out of habit from working as a member of the clergy, he stood and cleared his throat. “I pretended to be a pilgrim and asked the priests about the recent goings-on, and it sounded as though Ohlburg is looking for something greater than the rights to hold the great market.” Eve’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Canaan continued. “They have reportedly asked for the key to the city.” Myuri cocked her head at the word key, and Col raised his voice in surprise. “They can’t be seeking full authority to govern…can they?” People often likened foolishly bold acts to a little fish trying to swallow a whale. That was exactly what this was—Ohlburg asking for the key to the city was essentially a signal that the little cluster of huts and stalls wanted to be Estatt in name and essence. Right as Col fell silent at the sheer audacity of it all, he felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Myuri, who was evidently irked she could not follow the conversation. “Um…” Col struggled. “The key to the city is essentially a symbol of a city’s autonomy and authority. So…” “If they’re serious about asking for the key to the city, then that means they intend to replace the massive city of Estatt with that little shantytown built on the mud.” While Myuri took a deep breath and expanded like her tail, excited by the unbelievable idea, Col only grew more and more confused. If the band of swindlers was only meant to serve as a part of Estatt’s greater plot, like Myuri theorized, then their demands seemed very poorly thought-out indeed. Even the tales the bards sang in taverns were a little more realistic. Or was it because they thought only something as outlandish as this could properly demonstrate just how dangerous the Twilight Cardinal was supposed to be? What bothered him the most was the possibility this was not some devious plot concocted by Estatt. That would be far more mysterious. First, there was the question of whether Hobeln could come up with something so audacious in the first place. That, and Col found it hard to believe those swindlers were genuinely after the status of prince-elector and wanted to claim it for themselves in that little gathering of huts in Ohlburg. Even Myuri, dreamer that she was, would laugh at such a story. The clues they had on hand simply weren’t adding up. Hoping to gain a new perspective, Col decided to take a bird’s-eye view of the situation. That was when a certain memory crossed his mind. He recalled what Canaan had told him after he had gone out to gather information on the day they first arrived in Estatt. “According to what Canaan said…the cathedral is watching and waiting to see how they might deal with Ohlburg.” These people had built a town right under their noses, had interrupted their grand market, and were apparently asking for the key to the city. Normally, a lord of the empire would quickly suppress any dissidents to maintain order and authority. When Canaan had told him about all this, he had been thrilled—he said Estatt’s hesitancy must have been due to fear of the Twilight Cardinal’s influence. But what if that was not the case? “What if Estatt is not afraid of the Twilight Cardinal, but instead suspects someone is feeding Ohlburg ideas—or more specifically, feeding the swindlers ideas?” The union between Lord Hobeln and the swindlers was not enough to explain everything about this odd situation. But that would not be the case if they were not the only actors on stage. Once Col pointed that out, Canaan replied sheepishly, “Yes. I got a little ahead of myself in that regard… As I gathered more information from those around the city, I knew everything was exactly as you said, Master Col. As obvious as it sounds, not everyone in this city is like the scarecrow priests that appear in comedies.” Col and his companions were not the only ones who were standing vigilant, ready to use every last reserve of wisdom at their disposal. “Everyone has already surmised the Twilight Cardinal in Ohlburg is not the real one.” Which meant Estatt was not afraid of Hobeln, much less of the Twilight Cardinal. What they were truly wary of was— “They think it’s an obvious trap someone set up for them.” Myuri’s eyes shone so brightly, Col thought her ears and tail might pop out. “I know how this goes! First you deliberately set up a conflict, force your opponent to make the first move, then use it as a justification to declare war, right?” “If this is political theater regarding the position of prince-elector, then it’s possible,” Eve added. Both of them loved horrifying stories like this, and they were very much on the same page. That would certainly explain how skilled the scammers were. It also neatly explained the weapons. What left a bitter taste in Col’s mouth was that if they were right about this, then the people who had banded together believing in the name of the Twilight Cardinal were nothing but sacrificial, disposable pawns. And if that possibility was correct, then no matter what he had to— Right as Col’s mind started racing, the unrivaled bookseller, who had been sitting beside Canaan with his arms folded, gently interjected. “Master Col, you mentioned they were using a ruin from the ancient empire as their stronghold.” “Ah… Yes.” Col was flustered by the conversation suddenly pivoting to him, but he couldn’t deny the story about the Church of the Beginning the imposter spoke about had left an impression on him. “I believe it is simply to enhance their authority while preaching faith. They have made crumbling ruins the place where they will preach and styled it as the Church of the Beginning, all because it might be a church that was built in the era of the ancient empire, before the Church began to rot,” Col went on to explain. “Hmm,” Le Roi hummed. “And that fact itself did not seem to be wholly fictional, did it?” His question was meant for Canaan. “I believe so… It is historical fact that this entire region was the front line in the wars against the pagans back in the era of the empire. And a church was always built on the grounds of the knights’ barracks, so it is entirely possible. But…” What significance does that have? As everyone looked at him, Le Roi spoke up. “In that case, could it be simpler than that? Is it possible this could be nothing more than a farcical story? It is a ruin from the ancient empire, after all.” When he said farcical in that old-fashioned way, Le Roi turned to Myuri and grinned. He could have easily been her reading master in that moment, but Myuri looked at him curiously. “Now, Madam Myuri. This is an ancient ruin. What does that bring to mind?” “Hmm…?” Myuri tilted her head, but then her eyes snapped open, as though she had been struck by lightning. “Oh!” The bookseller shook with laughter, and he spoke as his gaze swept over the others. “Everyone, to think the ancient empire left behind ruins only would be a hasty thought.” Myuri had always been a dreamer, but it was without a doubt Le Roi who was encouraging her imagination. The rambunctious girl, having been under the tutelage of this terrible adult, stood up with such force she almost knocked her chair over. “Ancient treasure!” “Yes, precisely! Perhaps these swindlers are blinding others by gathering a great many people so they can quietly dig up their treasure.” “Th—” That can’t be it, is what Col was about to say, but he immediately realized the validity of the hypothesis. The only ones fooled by the fake calling himself the Twilight Cardinal were those who never left the towns or villages in which they were born. Merchants who dealt in trade and priests who had contact with the network of churches spread across the world knew better than to take those claims at face value. Conversely, it made sense the cathedral was being very careful with how they dealt with the situation, considering the possibility this was an obvious trap set up for them by a hostile party. Even the swindlers had to know their story would come to a swift end if they decided to attack Estatt in earnest, and there was no way they didn’t realize how nonsensical it was for them to ask for the key to the city. What if this whole series of events was to convince people there was something going on behind the scenes? Had Estatt taken the bait completely? Just as Lutia had said, the southern empire and the pope were embroiled in their own quarrel over territory, so those in power in the empire would be wary about the presence of potential enemies. The swindlers slipped into the gaps in people’s hearts—what if that was exactly what they were looking for? They were obviously aware they would be called out for impersonating someone, and it did not seem like they had any intent of protecting Ohlburg if push came to shove. They were buying time until they dug up treasure, and so long as it was busy and lively enough no one would question their activities, that was good enough for them. In short, Ohlburg was bathed in lies from beginning to end and would vanish in the light of dawn, like a fairy city. Hobeln and the faithful were being used as a pinch of truth that would give the whole lie some substance. Col was shocked by the boldness of such a brazen plan and sat there holding his breath. “That would make for an interesting story,” Eve said with a sigh, rousing Col from his thoughts. “Do you honestly believe that?” She stared coolly at Le Roi, who only gave her a delighted, meaningful smile in return. Myuri watched the exchange in shock. “The Twilight Cardinal’s name draws so much attention. Using it to dig up a treasure they aren’t even sure exists? That’s ridiculous. They would have realized there must be a better way.” Le Roi finally let out a hearty laugh, and Myuri, left out in the cold, stared at him reproachfully. Col felt a bit of the same way. “Oh-ho. Pardon me. But even as unbelievable as treasure might sound, we mustn’t discount the possibility there are reasons for them to be attached to that land specifically. I simply cannot help but think about the ruins. From what Master Col tells us, these swindlers are quite skilled. They are much too prepared for this to be a whim, so I believe we must always consider the possibility they chose to build Ohlburg in that spot because of its location. However, I admit that might be due to how much I prefer tales of adventure to the theater of politics.” That seemed to hit a bit of a sore spot for Eve, who thought of plots among nobles with sparkling eyes, but she just shrugged lightly. Myuri, who loved both kinds of stories, was the only one angry there was no definite conclusion as to which was the truth. As he watched the exchange, Col suddenly murmured, “Treasure…” There was the wild tale Le Roi mentioned, and Eve’s cold dose of reality. There had to be a reason why that band of swindlers had decided to build Ohlburg where it stood and a reason why they decided to use the Twilight Cardinal’s name. The key lay in the word treasure. “Master Col?” Canaan said. Col replied, “Could ancient ruins and treasure be a real possibility?” All four of the others stared at him with wide eyes. It would have been less shocking if anyone else in the room had said it. “Yes. Yes, the treasure must exist.” Myuri immediately looked anxiously at Col as he kept murmuring. Perhaps she thought a fairy was showing her an illusion. “All they have to do is bury it.” Myuri immediately scrunched half of her face. “Hey, Brother? What are you talking about? Who’d gain anything by doing that?” Col did not waver. When he flashed a smile at her, she drew back in surprise. “Because they would make quite a lot of money. Assuming that is why they’ve invoked the name of the Twilight Cardinal, after all.” “Huh?” That was when Le Roi’s hand struck his own cheek with a loud smack. At the same time, Eve had tucked in her chin in a surprising gesture of vexation. The two merchants picked up on it straight away. “I see, that is certainly one way to do it.” “What? What?” Canaan was perplexed, and Myuri was upset she failed to see where this was going. She turned to glare at Col with a pout. Things like hidden treasure and moneymaking should have been distant concepts for her straitlaced brother. She was not wrong, but Col knew much more about the world of faith than Myuri did. Even the less-than-savory parts. “Could they be planning on digging up a relic?” “Relic…?” Myuri repeated the word curiously, and then her gaze snapped to the sword at her waist. Relics were holy things, physical manifestations of God’s miracles. For example, a fragment of a pedestal an angel was said to have once descended upon, or an item a saint wore once upon a time—what they all had in common was that they were terribly valuable. Pilgrims would come from all over to lay eyes on a miraculous relic, and it would also boost the Church’s spiritual authority. The draw was so great even questionable items could fetch eye-watering prices. When they spoke about relics before, Col had told Myuri about a legendary sword that had the bones of a saint set in its handle. At the time, Myuri had glanced at Col’s arm like she wanted it for herself. Her older brother was the Twilight Cardinal, after all. It would be the perfect relic! “So the Twilight Cardinal’s going to dig up something he buried himself and convince everyone it was a miracle. How garish.” It was funny Eve was the one who said this, and that fact didn’t seem to be lost on her given the amused expression she wore. “It is just one possibility, and that would not fully explain the cache of weapons, but it does explain everything else reasonably well.” Perhaps they were for the guards that would make sure the relic would not be stolen after it was dug up? “Either way, there are several possibilities as to why the Twilight Cardinal’s making such a big ruckus out there.” Eve tilted the glass cup in her hand in thought. “It would not be too difficult to silence this imposter permanently, but we can’t make much progress without knowing what they’re after and who’s backing them.” Col nodded and said, “Any plots involving the position of prince-elector would be too much for me. However, we can look into any possibilities related to ruins and relics, can’t we?” He looked at Canaan with a question in his eyes. “Ah, yes,” Canaan replied. “There is a sizable archive in the cathedral. There might be records dating all the way back to the ancient empire there.” What were the ruins, really? Col thought they were simply being used as a convenient location to boost their legitimacy, but now there was a genuine possibility the ruins had something to do with the core of the swindlers’ plans. “I brought it up to liven the conversation, but I suppose it wasn’t a bad idea after all.” Le Roi laughed, and Myuri gave him a biting look. “So is there really treasure or not?!” Myuri took offense at the way Le Roi laughed. With a little sigh, Eve placed a small bowl full of sugared candies in front of Myuri to cheer her up. The day after they had their meeting at Eve’s rented warehouse, Col and company went straight to Estatt’s cathedral. “Whoa, it’s huuuge!” Everything was new to Myuri when they first left the deep mountain village of Nyohhira. While her curious outbursts had lessened as she grew used to travel, the great cathedral from which the archbishop ruled was enough to ignite her curiosity. There were cathedrals in the Kingdom of Winfiel just as grand, but this one had several annexes, making it seem like a city within a city. “I took a little peek yesterday, and the library was fantastic. There is a collection of crests from the knights who once gathered in this holy city and then set forth northward.” That was enough to make Myuri’s eyes gleam. There were plenty of people coming and going from a cathedral this big, but most left once morning mass was over, so it happened to be very quiet at the moment. Canaan, pretending to be a journeying theologian-in-training, led them into the cathedral. They took one step into the nave, and Myuri’s jaw fell open when she realized just how high the building went. The ceiling rose far above them, yet they could clearly see the detailed expressions on the painted angels’ faces. The sheer size and scale had that effect on people, and the innocent, rambunctious girl recoiled slightly at the sight. “Have you awakened to faith?” Myuri gulped, then squared her shoulders like she refused to admit it had affected her. Canaan smiled at Myuri, then veered to the left of the nave before making his way to one of the annex buildings. These were all the facilities that kept the cathedral in operation from day to day. According to Canaan, the cathedral was mostly empty, but when they came to a long, wide corridor, that was not the case at all. There were all sorts of people—many priests, of course, but there were also groups of civil servants, perhaps envoys dispatched by distant lords, as well as well-dressed merchants. Perhaps cathedrals of this size were typically more filled with people. After all, here in Estatt, the archbishop alone wielded the power to confirm bishops. Furthermore, due to his high position within the Church administration that put him in charge of a vast diocese, the archbishop had clergy calling upon him day in and day out. On top of that, the archbishop oversaw the municipal governance of the city, and due to his position as prince-elector, many secular lords also had business with him, as he was the ruler over a wide swathe of imperial land. Consequently, all sorts of people came and went on a regular basis at the cathedral, so no one fussed over the details when a young theologian-in-training happened to meet the son of a wealthy merchant and his private tutor on his travels, and then asked to peruse the cathedral library, since the two were studying the history of every place they visited. “Your name here, please… All right. And your donation here, please. How to handle the books, you ask? Ah, you say you’ve studied in Aquent, yes? You should be all right. Please show this slip to the librarian. Next.” It was very clerical. The wealthy-looking couple standing in front of them in line, incidentally, disagreed with their relatives regarding the family inheritance, so they had asked to see the annals of one town in particular in order to confirm their lineage. And they were likely planning on donating to the cathedral on the way home and securing a powerful ally. Cathedrals with long histories often served as the foundation of community memories. Even this stone building, which had to be reprimanded for excess on occasion, had withstood fires and floods throughout history, and had maintained these valuable records continuously into the present day. As they walked through the stately stone building, they spotted all sorts of workers busily rushing to and fro. This was how the peace was kept not only in the grand city of Estatt, but within the surrounding territories as well. Ohlburg could not possibly assume the role and duties of this cathedral, and it was unrealistic to think they could maintain much of anything without taxes. The sermon held in the Church of the Beginning was not a misconception simply because a swindler had been giving it. It was much too radical—unrealistic idealism. Yet the people had accepted it without question and were zealously in support of the idea. In short, if they let this situation smolder, then the world would soon assume that was what the Twilight Cardinal also believed. Col knew it was naive of him to hope people would understand without him needing to speak. The Twilight Cardinal needed to make himself known far and wide. And because he had been too late in realizing this, that had given an imposter the opportunity to appear. Thus, it was Col’s duty to expose the plot. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. And he walked down the corridor to the library with strides wide enough to rival Myuri’s. “Records from the era of the ancient empire?” When Canaan handed over the slip he received at reception and announced what sort of books he was looking for, the librarian parroted the request with a frown and sighed. “I ask you to not pay any mind to the nonsense they preach in Ohlburg. If there truly exists a Church of the Beginning, you would be standing inside it at this very moment.” It sounded as though Col and his party were not the only ones who had come to investigate the veracity of the Church of the Beginning. After giving that tired warning, the librarian took them to the bookshelf. Inside the library that was far too grand to be described by words like big or massive, other visitors were fervently flipping through books. Every volume was attached to a nearby shelf by chains, and the librarian undid the locks on three tomes with a rustic key and placed them on the reading table. He then attached the books to the chains on the table. There were small gargoyle carvings on the shelves, standing guard against book thieves. “God be with you,” the librarian said briefly, then promptly left. “…It sounds like many people have checked the same book.” All the books in the library made the same crinkling noise when a reader flipped through the pages, but the ones on the table were pliant and supple. “It seems the question of who has the most legitimacy must always be answered by the past—the nobles in front of us were the same.” Strangely enough, the town had not moved over the years, and towns that sat at the mouth of a river, especially, often suffered drastic topological changes due to accumulated sediment, so it was not terribly unlikely the crumbling building was once a church. “I wonder if there’s anything about the hideout.” Rather than the history of the region, Myuri was more fascinated by the possibility an imperial relic was buried in the mud. Col recalled the town with no exit that she had drawn, and he prayed the ruins were not the remains of a wall. Regardless, she quickly flipped open a book of her own, but immediately leaned back in her chair. Col glanced at the book, wondering what was wrong, and quickly realized it was written in ecclesiastical script. “Ugh… Brother…” Though she had flawless command over the vernacular, ecclesiastical script required a completely different skill set. “Canaan and I will read. You check the pictures for anything that might be related.” While these were annals, they were not conveniently lined up by era, but instead a series of articles written through the years casually bound together by virtue of time and place. It was not unusual that things completely unrelated to events meant to be recorded in the annals ended up mixed in with everything else simply because it was written in the ecclesiastical script. Sometimes the reason was nothing more than a desire to keep all the tomes a similar length. Myuri drew up her shoulders, sat in front of the book as she muttered complaints, and Col and Canaan began their work in earnest. There were a few typical sermons that began with firm words: You, the impious who conduct trade in the church. But when it came to churches as big as the cathedral in Estatt, there were plenty who came peddling food at noontime for the worshippers and those who worked in the cathedral. The cathedral was connected to several buildings, and there were stunning courtyards resting in between. Myuri found a sunny spot, and that was where they had lunch. “I don’t really understand.” Canaan’s offhand remark spoke for everything. “A little trading community has stood there since ancient times, and that was where the ancient empire built their frontline base. The church was soon established after that, and it soon became the center of faith and the subjugation of pagans… Or so it said.” When they connected the messy collection of anecdotes together, that was generally what the history showed. “I was a little surprised to see that House Hobeln has been a family that lived on the land for the entirety of those records.” “So I guess he’s supposed to be important.” The man thought to be the current Lord Hobeln had been blackout drunk within the hideout. As Col brushed off the breadcrumbs stuck to Myuri’s cheek, he said to Canaan, “House Hobeln must have been in charge of the nameless village here before the old imperial knights came. It said he improved the swampland and made it habitable for many people, and his merits earned him peerage.” “But wheat would not grow on the land, and they suffered many floods. So they decided that the grand market should be under God’s protection and transferred the rights to the cathedral…” It was normal for the victors to write history, so it was not entirely unthinkable that as the cathedral grew in power when the pagans were pushed farther northward, they subjected House Hobeln to unreasonable demands to weaken them. But Eve had said the grand market was not as lucrative as it seemed. Considering that, there were very few landowning nobles who were adept at trade, so one could naturally assume House Hobeln had admitted defeat and voluntarily handed the rights over. “So then, what’s the underground hideout and the buried stones, then? Ruins of the village? I was really looking hard for pictures of the ruins we found under the mud in Ohlburg.” But among the illustrations, there were very few showing any scenery. The most she found were illustrations of knight captains making their triumphant return, and vague shapes of buildings in the background. “While I am not certain about treasure, I could reasonably guess they are the ruins of a base thrown together when they happened to be surrounded by the enemy.” Judging by the scale of the ruin, all Col could think of was something made with war in mind. But on the other hand, there were no records of large battles, and the old stories in the annals were mostly about the establishment of Estatt’s cathedral. What was now the cathedral and the city of Estatt was apparently once a small island in the middle of the sea. When the vast areas around the river flooded, many people escaped on boats to the island, and naturally, a church was built as the foundation of their faith. Faith also likely brought many people together. And as the sea receded, the small island connected to land, and the island was restyled as a city, and the rest is history. Not only that, but the island had firm bedrock, and so most of the stone that made up the city was said to have been quarried from under their feet. An old illustration Myuri found told them it was more like a little hill in the past. “But I feel like I’ve heard the name Hobeln before…” Col thought he might find his answers there, but he did not. Perhaps when he was a wandering student, he just so happened to pass through the region without realizing on his way to the academic city of Aquent, and that was where he heard about him. “I’ve never heard of him,” Myuri said. That meant the family was not particularly well-known for their feats of arms. Perhaps Col really had just heard about them on his travels as a child. “But what are we gonna do now?” There were three of them, and so they had finished reading through the annals. But they were unable to find anything that stood out as a clue, so perhaps they should return to the library, even if it did not seem fruitful. Or perhaps Le Roi found a book that could help while he was dealing with the city dilettantes. Or maybe they simply chose that piece of land because it seemed to suit the act of the Twilight Cardinal. When that thought crossed her mind, Myuri swallowed her piece of bread with a large gulp and said, “Okay, then, there’s a place I wanna see.” “There is?” “I asked one of the peddlers, and he said if we want to learn about the history of the city, then there’s one thing we gotta see in the cathedral!” Col and Canaan exchanged glances. Myuri beamed and said, “The underground graveyard!” The image of a pleased wolf with a bone in her mouth flashed through Col’s mind, but reality was a bit different. Among the muddy landscape, there was one spot said to have been a small island with solid bedrock. As the sea receded and the island connected to the mainland, a lot of the stone was quarried from the island to expand the city into the flood-prone land, and sturdy buildings were built on top of it. And it was said the remains of the cut-out rock were made into vast catacombs. In the time of the ancient empire, this city was used as the frontline base in war, and was later made a part of the southern empire, so they were not left wanting for bones with which to fill it. The peddler had apparently told Myuri the Estatt catacombs were a hidden gem where one could see the entirety of Estatt’s history of wealth and glory. Myuri loved adventure—she was already excited by the word catacombs alone, but Col and Canaan soon realized the peddler was not exaggerating out of pride of one’s hometown. “………” The entrance to the catacombs sat in a particularly old part of the buildings connected to the cathedral. Even Myuri fell quiet when she felt how different the air was here. The dark hole led underground, almost like an entrance to hell itself, and it was cordoned off by an aged and massive portcullis. The priest who looked after the catacombs had on his hip a large metal key that looked like a small club. The portcullis was opened for them after giving a not-insignificant donation. When they stepped through, they were greeted by a stone staircase dirtied by sediments of time that could not be fully removed, unlike the rest of the cathedral, which was kept rather clean. A cool wind came from the darkness below them, along with the scent of mold. The gloomy priest trudged ahead with a candle in his hand, and the writing on the wall were all passages praying for divine salvation. The writing alone was ghastly, and of course Myuri’s expression was tense; she gripped Col’s hand so hard, it hurt. “This was all written by those who evacuated into the cathedral in the event of major flooding and waters that rose terribly high,” the gloomy priest told them. The combination of the spring tides and excessive rain meant the cathedral floor was once covered in water. The people must have crowded in here thinking the water would not get in, considering this was the resting place for great saints. Myuri, who was raised in the mountains and only thought of flash floods and landslides when she heard the word flood, seemed oblivious to the fear of water rising past one’s feet. As they went deeper down, the neat stone staircase vanished and became one that was carved straight into the rock. The walls were no longer covered in plaster, and it felt more like a cave. Col almost thought they might encounter bats, but this was not a natural cavern, so luckily, no such thing happened. When they reached the bottom, there were several large candleholders carved into the wall, and candles, which had been left in this place, were lit with the priest’s candle. “Whoa.” Myuri gasped despite herself. More light illuminated the sight before them, revealing a long, narrow passageway. Mortuaries like beds were carved out on either side of the passageway, and they covered the walls from floor to ceiling. “These are the graves of the great people throughout history who devoted their lives to developing Estatt. Please do not disturb their rest.” The gloomy priest spoke mainly to Myuri, and then walked forward. Some of those at rest grasped swords over their torso, and some held books—perhaps the scripture. Some had bronze plates that noted the name of the deceased and their date of death, while some plates simply said they rested here due to their great donations. Most of them rested with their skulls exposed—empty eye sockets, grinning teeth—but several still kept their skin, to the point where they could easily imagine what they looked like in life. Canaan stopped before bodies with the names of priests, and Myuri stopped before the corpses of knights. All those who rested here were counted among the greatest of their eras, and they had carried out critical work in life. But now they rested here as nothing but bones, having finished their job and earned their rest. It reminded Col of a phrase from the scripture: from ash to ash, from dust to dust. One who slumbered surrounded by fine burial accessories, for example, held what looked like a rusted crown on his stomach. The bronze plate told them this was a king of a country he had never heard of. It was a country like seafoam, rising to the surface of the turbid waters of time for only a brief moment. The priest moved deeper down the corridor. The catacombs were rather large and the corridor extended into the distance, but the priest came to a stop because there was someone of particular import there. That area was a little wider than the rest, more like a square than a narrow corridor, and the mortuaries here were a little larger than the rest. “These are the archbishops of the past.” Some were laid to rest lying down, and some were standing up. All wore dignified clerical robes, and the accessories adorning them glinted eerily in the candlelight. But they all seemed darker than they should have been, because they were all tarnished. They were not of gold, or silver. The patina that looked almost like bluish mold told Col these accessories were made of copper. Did they not choose gold accessories as a sign of humility? But Col stared at them reproachfully, because they obviously did not seem to hold back on their desire to dress finely regardless, then Myuri tugged on his sleeve. She pointed to the only one among all the archbishops in their priestly garb who wore civilian clothing. “Hobeln the First?” Though the writing was faint due to the dust and verdigris clinging to the plaque, that is what it said. The First likely referred to the Lord Hobeln who improved the land and was first to be granted peerage. The cathedral would have been built long after his death, so he had been moved here from his original resting place. It must have been done when the cathedral was built to give them the legitimacy to become a proper noble house and the power to rule a large swathe of land. Hobeln the First held a sword in his eternal slumber. Copper coins lay scattered by his pillow and on his clothes—perhaps an offering left by other visitors. Col wanted to whisper in his ear, Your descendant is currently being mistreated and used by swindlers. He knew if he woke up in that moment, Col could have asked him about the ruins, and he lifted his gaze. There, on the wall right above his mortuary, he saw a little picture painted with ancient brush strokes. “What is this…?” He lifted the candle in his hand, and it illuminated a faded, yet eerie image. It had apparently been painted for some sort of ceremony. People encircled what looked like a large well in the middle, worshipping it. Above the well was God, holding a shining sun in his hands, and below the well was a person facing the viewer, holding a sword in the right hand, and a hammer in the left hand. Col had seen the combination of sword and hammer in the scammers’ hideout. The Hobeln crest. “We saw this well-thing in the hideout, too,” Myuri said quietly to him. The passed-out, fallen noble had been gripping a small piece of paper in his hand. On it was something that had looked a lot like this. In essence, it was something important to House Hobeln—important enough to be recorded above Hobeln the First’s grave. God stood above the well, holding the sun. And Hobeln, in exchange, held a sword and a hammer. Not a shield. A hammer. He had been apparently given peerage in recognition of his efforts to develop the land, so perhaps he was a craftsman who had some sort of unique specialty, and not a decorated warrior. That meant one could possibly think House Hobeln were well-makers, considering the piece of paper drunk Hobeln held, and the picture in front of Col at the moment. But could a well-maker accomplish such great feats? If nothing else, this place clearly was not lacking in water. That there was too much water was causing people trouble, not too little— The second that thought crossed his mind, Col sucked in a breath. He almost let out a noise, and so he quickly covered his mouth with his hand. But he had still done so audibly, so the priest turned to look at him with a reproachful eye, and Canaan craned his neck to look at him. Myuri lowered her light to look at the floor, wondering if her silly brother had been shocked by a spider or a centipede. But no. Col understood what the well was. He now knew why Hobeln’s name sounded so familiar. He immediately understood the significance of the hammer in his crest. And suddenly, Hobeln the First’s enshrinement took on a completely new significance. Especially all the things placed on him and by his pillow. If he were to lean forward and strain his eyes into the dark, Col could imagine how things were in the days of yore. And just as floods washed all sorts of things away, the slumbering archbishops’ accessories suddenly made sense. They had most certainly not chosen to go with copper accessories out of the virtue of humility. Myuri, who was illuminating the floor, looked up at him with a flat look, as though assuming her foolish brother was panicking over a weird misconception once again. “I know Hobeln’s name,” Col murmured, and Myuri tilted her head. “He’s always been a great help to us in the Nyohhira bathhouse. It’s the name of the water pump.” “The water pump?” “Which means that place in Ohlburg is not a church. It’s a—” Hobeln the First slumbered soundly. Etched into the coins scattered around his mortuary showed what Ohlburg used to look like. And the scammers crept into the scenery. They most certainly had business there, in that land. With the treasure buried beneath the mud. But what had kept Col’s impatience at bay was because he knew if his hypothesis was correct, then there was still something big that did not quite add up. Canaan stared at him wide-eyed now, but yesterday, he had said: Not everyone in this city is a scarecrow. Just as they were not the only ones coming to the library to research their history, they could not be alone in finding clues here, in this mortuary. “Which means…” Why did the swindlers build Ohlburg there? Why did the swindlers choose to use the name of the Twilight Cardinal? Why did Estatt not attack Ohlburg? And why did none other than Eve come out all this way herself? “Brother? Wait—Brother?!” A terrible, terrible feeling sank in his chest, and he bolted. He did not care that his candle went out. He was headed for the surface. He had overlooked something big. Col left the catacombs, as though rushing through the entirety of the muddy land’s history, from beginning to end, in one fell swoop, and exited into the cathedral. He could hear “Brother!” echoing after him from below, but he knew Myuri would have no problems catching up to him. There was something important he had to do. The reason Hobeln’s name sounded so familiar was because Col had used it before. When they were building the bathhouse in the hot spring village of Nyohhira, Col had helped with all sorts of jobs—from recruiting workers to building the facilities themselves. The most annoying part of any job was making sure the spring water that seeped from the ground did not get in the way of work. When that happened, they used water pumps, the sort often used for mine drainage and field irrigation, and they were called by the name of the inventor—Hobeln. “Water pumps… Yeah… Now that you mention it, I’ve definitely seen that name on mining equipment. I see. That’s the name of the noble family here.” Col went to speak to Eve. The reason House Hobeln had so much power here was because his family had invented the water pump to save this land, where the drainage was poor. Or perhaps, a nameless other person had invented it, and his family had claimed it as their own achievement and managed production. They were used all over the world. These pumps included a rod that was inserted into a cylindrical metal tube, which fit into a metal plate embossed with a spiral pattern along the rod. As the rod spun, the plate would spin, drawing out the water. What made this exceptional was that it was a cylindrical apparatus, and it could be placed anywhere easily, even in places too small for a water mill, or places where water needed to be drawn out over a certain difference in elevation. Additionally, by fitting the gears together in a certain way, the spiral plate could be operated with one’s feet, enabling even the weakest child to carry out the important work of water drainage. Even someone as weak as Col could do it, too. The construction of the bathhouse in Nyohhira would have been hopeless without this. Holo the Wisewolf was powerful, but whether boulder-crushing strength could drain groundwater was another question entirely. “Then, there is what we saw in Ohlburg.” After running from the catacombs, Col left Myuri and Canaan behind to go straight to a large mercantile company in Estatt. There, he obtained a map of the area, sat down on the side of the road, and just as he was drawing out the underground ruins Myuri had found and the location of Ohlburg, the other two caught up with him. That long, narrow stone structure in the ground was not the remains of an underground passage or castle walls. As Col asked himself why Hobeln the First held the symbol of nobility, the sword, in his right hand, but did not hold the symbol of protecting his house, the shield, in his left hand, and instead held a hammer, the answer appeared to him on the map. Because rust was an ever-constant concern and because it made them easier to manufacture, water pumps were often made of copper. And where the copperworks were developed was where the copper was produced. “The ruins in Ohlburg are the remnants of a large-scale drainage facility. But considering crops don’t grow in the peatlands, the drainage was never meant for fields. What the scammers call Church of the Beginning,” he said, pointing to a spot on the map as he spoke, “are likely the remains of a copper refinery. I believe that entire area must have been the location of an open-air copper mine.” The burial goods of all those who slumbered in the catacombs were practically all copper. Even though the archbishops could not hold back their desire to decorate themselves even in death, they chose to do so not in silver, not gold, but copper. Canaan and Myuri, especially, were skeptical of the explanation, and Myuri in particular wanted treasure to be buried there, so her eyes were particularly sharp when she looked at him. But Col was convinced. First, there was the sword and hammer on the Hobeln family crest, and that the family made a name for themselves through water pumps. Then, there was the mortuary in which Hobeln the First slumbered, and the situation around the grand market. The land was fruitless and prone to floods, yet it was said Estatt’s grand market did so well because of the cathedral. Even if there might have been better places to hold the market, people would gladly face any trials and tribulations to go to a church. And that would have held true in the past, too. Before the ancient imperial knights even came to this land, a community of people already lived here, and why did it serve as a key for trade in those days? It would have been much more appropriate to have the trading post farther inland, or even on the little island that would one day become the cathedral. So then, why had the settlement been sitting in the flood-prone mud? What compelled them to build there, of all places? In a time when the shoreline was farther inland and the land was covered in more water than it was now, there was something there that caught the attention of the ancient imperial knights and led them to set roots down there. What if those scammers had set up camp precisely for whatever it was now, too? “It has to be a copper mine.” Col’s explanation was enthusiastic. Eve stared at the map hard, rubbing her chin. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard of an open mine… There used to be so many mines like that. You used to be able to set fire to a mountain and watch the silver flow out of it like a river.” “I believe there’s little traces of it left today due to many years of sediment accumulation, but I believe House Hobeln managed the copper mine, and their family must have been in charge of the copper processing as well. People came from the surrounding areas in hopes of getting some of this copper, and as a result, that may have caused the area to become a trading post. But the question is, can one truly become a noble out of skill alone? There are few accomplishments that can be symbolized by a sword and hammer on one’s crest. And one of those accomplishments can be…this.” Col showed Eve what was in his wallet. “Coin embossing, huh?” There had to be an adequate reason as to why people would go out of their way to build a village in a barren land like this. Not only that, but since it had also become the front line in the war against the pagans, they had to be able to procure food and whatnot in order to support the knights afterward. And since it could not be grown in the area, it had to be imported. Imported goods cost money. But the production of copper could solve that. That was because skilled coppersmiths who could emboss coins were already here. “And copper mining cannot be done discreetly, unlike digging up buried treasure.” “You’re saying that mining needs many hands, but having Ohlburg around is a good distraction?” “They’re fussing over ruins by calling it the Church of the Beginning. If they need to dig up a second or third convenient ruin, then plenty would gladly volunteer to help.” Col had hastily drawn the locations of the ruins on the map he had bought from the merchant company. He slapped it down onto the table and enthusiastically told Eve about it. This was the answer to the question of why the swindlers were there. Eve gazed at the map, then slowly lifted her eyes to Col. “Let’s say that is what they’re after. They’re probably prospecting right now if they’re after a mine, so a quick investigation would reveal that in no time. But I think it’s the most reasonable explanation for all of this, too. That said…” Eve leaned back deep in her chair and folded her hands across her stomach. She stared quietly at Col for a long while, then said, “Is it worth rushing over here, though?” There was even a faint smile on her face. Both Canaan and Myuri fidgeted because of the strange tension in the air. And Col replied clearly, “Yes.” He inhaled, then exhaled. “Because you are here to keep an eye on me, aren’t you, Miss Eve? You are here to make sure I do nothing too extravagant or reckless until business is done. And you plan to restrain me if the situation asks for it.” Myuri and Canaan were shocked; they looked back and forth between him and Eve. Eve’s eyes narrowed, and she lifted her head. “Are you calling me a traitor?” Myuri looked on the verge of tears. But Col was not angry—if anything, he gave a tired, light burst of laughter. “I would do no such thing.” He then pulled out his own chair and took a seat. “Miss Eve, you and Heir Hyland are only trying to carry out your roles.” Myuri looked at him with unease; she did not know where this was going. What was Eve plotting? Why had she come to monitor the real Twilight Cardinal? “The prince-elector archbishop and his cohort should already fully grasp the situation.” Col was confident this was true because he himself had come to see what was going on. Eve smiled and jerked her head, urging him to continue. “The real reason they are not attacking Ohlburg is not because they do not know the swindlers’ intentions. And I do not think the shadow of whoever might be backing them is even among the biggest reasons.” Col was, of course, standing in opposition to the Church, but he did not hate them. The last piece of the puzzle had slotted nicely into place when he saw the graffiti at the catacombs entrance. “The reason they will not so easily take up arms is because of the people who have gathered in Ohlburg, isn’t it?” Canaan and Myuri looked back and forth between Col and Eve, holding their breath. And then Eve shrugged, as though in defeat. “It is. As they say, the stupider the child, the cuter they are.” Perhaps that was her own way of making a joke, but this cathedral city was run by the clergy. Col and the rest were not the only ones worried about the fates of those in Ohlburg. What suddenly came to mind were the unmanned stalls set up in Estatt’s plaza. No one was coming to the grand market they had gone through the trouble of setting up, and Myuri was not the only one saddened by this. “The scammers have played their flute to lure people out there. Ultimately, they’ve been preaching criticism of the cathedral for days and days now. This could be—” “A rebellion,” Col murmured, and Eve nodded slowly. “If this were a genuine rebellion, the Estatt authorities would’ve swiftly taken care of it.” Eve dropped her gaze to her hands, tired, then looked at Col. “Twilight Cardinal.” “Hmm?” “Nice name. I wonder who gave it to you.” Eve gave him a dry smile as she leaned back in her chair. “Regular people would never even dream of resisting organizations as large as the Church. No matter how unhappy they may be, they would simply say they have to learn to live with it, like the weather.” The extraordinary merchant, who had traveled the world and accumulated towering stacks of gold for herself, simply shrugged. “You can see the light beyond the city walls. This long night, one that’s lasted since the day they were born, looks like it’s going to finally give way to dawn. Everyone rushes to the eastern gates. They start yelling—praying, celebrating a dawn they’ve forgotten to even wish for. They don’t want darkness to fall again.” Eve’s eyes softened, and she smiled kindly. “It seems kind of stupid to just leave this city and gather in places like Ohlburg, doesn’t it? But it’s hard to resist the hope that something might change. It’s not often you come across opportunities like this in life. It’s a given that you’re always surrounded by familiar neighbors, going through days that never change, living the same life your parents and their parents lived.” When she said that, her gaze grew distant; Col thought he saw shadows of the young noble girl she once was in her eyes. “And then, you hear of things that sound like adventure stories that endure history. You realize you might become one of the characters in those stories. You’d go, no matter what.” Eve’s teasing gaze settled on Myuri. But what she said allowed Myuri to understand more deeply what she saw in Ohlburg. The fervor in the town was not pure faith. There was a chance they could stir the cathedral, something they thought would always be there, from the day they were born to the day they would die. That excitement was the real root of the enthusiasm. “It looks like the cathedral left the swindlers alone at first, because they thought it your typical money-grubbing scheme. But as more and more people flocked to them, the situation shifted. Now it was more like dealing with a group of faithful. That was when they panicked, asking the Winfiel Kingdom if there was any possibility the real Twilight Cardinal was involved. That was when they seriously looked into whether it was an assassination plot set in motion by political rivals, but the situation has only grown since then. Before anyone knew it, this has become an issue that can no longer be resolved by simply catching the swindlers and stringing them up. Doing that now would undoubtedly mean an armed confrontation with the people of Ohlburg. That could only end with the cathedral turning their blades on their own people.” Not only that, they knew the townsfolk raving about taking down the cathedral were being duped by the swindlers. “Then is that proof that…the reason Estatt looked like it was standing idly by is because the prince-elector and the others of the cathedral are not villainous characters?” Col asked. Eve nodded. “I was surprised too, but they’re all priests at the end of the day. Lip service and good intentions aren’t enough to govern a city of this size, so they do what they must and earn the people’s ire all the while. Folks must look at them like they’re a den of evil. Frustratingly so, even if they are good people.” It sounded as though she was in contact with a high-ranking clergy member from the city. Since it sounded as though the cathedral was reaching out to verify the Twilight Cardinal’s identity, Estatt must not have originally had any antagonistic tension with the Twilight Cardinal or the Kingdom of Winfiel. Either way, when the kingdom replied that whoever was there had to be a fake, the kingdom authorities must have assumed the matter had already been squared away. But that was not the case at all—if anything, it was Col’s letter that alerted them to the reality it had morphed into something much more concerning before anyone had even realized. And so perhaps she then hurriedly asked the long-distance traders who traveled through Rausbourne, heard tell the situation was spreading quickly through the mainland, then rushed over in shock. And then, as she asked about the details from the people of the city, she came to learn of the cathedral’s troubles. “The reason the cathedral is still dragging their feet is because they’re even now looking for a way to peaceably resolve the situation without hurting any of the people being fooled. But there’s no way to do it. Because they predict a lot of resistance, and more importantly, everyone currently in Ohlburg loathes the cathedral. Even if they did manage to safely disperse everyone out there, their authority as local rulers would be greatly marred if they end up welcoming those people back into the city without addressing their misapprehensions. And so they’d need them to repent, at least in name only, but…I don’t think that’s possible.” In any other situation, Col would want to applaud their fair nature, considering they were working as people of the clergy while also managing their territory as secular lords. But the problem here was that the Twilight Cardinal’s name was now involved. “The kingdom does not want any more untoward rumors spreading about the Twilight Cardinal than what is already out there. Once Ohlburg starts looking and acting like a real town, what do you think the rest of the world would think? There’s a chance they’ll think the Twilight Cardinal traveling the continent to right the Church’s wrongs is just an excuse to rile up the people and claim land for the kingdom.” And that was why the kingdom started pressuring Estatt. Put down the false Twilight Cardinal immediately. No matter what sort of gruesome measures must be taken. “We rushed to collect as much information as we could through your letter, but there’s only one way stories like this can end. No matter how you dress it up, Estatt is part of the empire, and this archbishop prince-elector is a statesman who rules by the sword. He only has so much power as a priest. It’s reasonable to assume he will send his army into Ohlburg, cut down all of those who resist, and then slay the false Twilight Cardinal. There is no other way.” After a long bout of speaking, Eve lightly cleared her throat, then sighed, “And the only difference there is whether it’s happening sooner or later.” She looked at Col, annoyed and bothered. “And so when we got your letter saying you were coming here, we thought of the worst possible outcome. It wasn’t hard to picture you reaching the truth shortly after you started looking into things here in the city. You’re both skilled at the end of the day, and just like we thought, you figured it out almost immediately.” Perhaps she wore a scowl because she remembered they were the ones who had uncovered her scheme. “And I bet you’d be thinking, we have to save the poor lambs in Ohlburg.” Col could not find the words to speak, and Eve did not sound as though she was pressuring him, either. She sounded as though she was talking about how the sun set in the west and then rose again in the east. “And then you’d rush the cathedral without thinking about the consequences. And once that happened, the nightmare would start.” The problem would swell like bread dough that had baking powder added to it. Because in Estatt’s eyes, that would mean the real Twilight Cardinal was making himself an ally to rebels. And then they would begin to wonder if the imposter in Ohlburg was an ally of his to begin with—one he was working alongside with to meddle with internal affairs. As a result, Estatt, as a part of the southern empire, might raise a flag of hostility toward the Twilight Cardinal. And it was very possible the other imperial cities would see that and follow suit. There was also a chance that would not happen, of course, but instead of placing their bets on that, there was a way they could wrap this up peacefully and surely. “Those swindlers are a careful lot, so we can’t afford to cut corners in our plans. It would be stupid of us to take risks. And so I’m here to inform Estatt of the kingdom’s intentions, so rumor of the Twilight Cardinal doesn’t spread any more than it already has, and to keep a tight grip on your reins at the same time.” They were not to make matters worse. Even if it meant taking on the dirty role of herding the pitiful masses into death’s maws. “Col.” The way Eve said his name was surprisingly serious. Those earnest eyes were one of the reasons why they did not speak of this to begin with. “You cannot have everything.” And it was a supremely greedy merchant telling him this. He knew that, of course. They had to take down the imposter as soon as possible, but the townsfolk who had been duped because of their religious fervor would likely not listen to Col if he simply called out the imposter for what he was. As a result, wretched fighting would break out and many people would lose their lives in a pointless battle, but that would ultimately solve the problem. And then once again, the Twilight Cardinal would be seeking out those in power to stand beside him at the ecumenical council. Estatt would be the first of those candidates. Because once the imposter appeared, the first thing they did was ask the kingdom if he was the real thing. That meant he had to act smart and think of the consequences of his actions. Even if that meant placing faith to the side. “Good grief. Hyland’s going to have to give me additional privileges, because this role really isn’t worth it,” Eve said in a way that would make a child cower, and then began to pressure Col. “I know this goes against your principles. I know you’re not going to be happy with this. And I don’t care if you hate me because of it.” For the greater good. So that the faint gleam of light from the eastern gate became the sun and would light up the darkness. Myuri, beside Col, stirred. It was as though she was unsure if she should grab Col’s sleeve or not. She was smarter than he was, so she knew well what Eve meant. Canaan, who sat on the other side of her, was the same. If anything, he was much more tenacious than his looks made him out to be, since he had come to the kingdom in an act of betrayal of his former home, all for the sake of true justice. And yet the reason they both remained silent was because they understood Col. It was not long ago that Col was nothing more than a little lamb, happy to simply enact his own justice in his innocence. But at some point, he had grown. And more people began traveling with him. Much in the way he had to accept that a child would one day grow into an adult, there were other things he had to accept. “But…,” he said. Eve’s lips tensed, and her eyes glinted dangerously. Myuri, too, grasped at his sleeve to keep him from rushing ahead out of control. But he knew this, and so he said, “Please give me time.” He put his hand on the table and leaned forward, toward Eve, so that he was looking down at her. Eve did not break eye contact with him. Her cold eyes stared straight at him. “I can’t imagine how you’re going to save them.” By them, she was talking about the people being fooled by the imposter. Perhaps she was talking about a way to bring rationality back to them. “You can’t just convince them they’re being tricked. We’re at the point now where they’ve been taken in by the imposter’s rhetoric and fully believe everyone in the cathedral is pure evil. They’ll have to show complete remorse to be accepted back into the city without complication. The cathedral’s been wringing its hands precisely because they haven’t found a way to do both.” There were two barriers he had to cross. And both were terribly high. “Of course, if doing what you feel like you need to do makes you feel better, then I’m not going to stop you. If you go on recruiting allies for the ecumenical council, you’re going to have to accept unsatisfactory deals a lot like this one. But you really—” Eve, too, leaned forward into Col’s space as he hovered over her. She had always been kind to him as a child, but there had always been distance in the way she treated him. That came from the difference between adult and child. But now, that distance was gone. “It’s all right. I do not plan on stepping down from my role as Twilight Cardinal.” Even if he could not prevent tragedy, he would not sit around whimpering. Eve only kept staring at him. Col could tell Myuri and Canaan were holding their breath, but he had a feeling Myuri was worried about something else, and he almost laughed. It was Eve whose eyes softened first. She let loose the breath she was holding, and then leaned back into her chair. “My present to you for growing up: I’ll wait three days.” Eve looked at her hands, thought about something for a moment, then looked back up at Col. “But on the night of the third day, I’m going to go tell the cathedral council about you. I’m going to tell them a very troublesome lamb has come right to their doorstep. They’re not stupid, and they’ll understand their problems are only going to get more complicated. And you know the empire and the pope are having their own little tiff. And if they decide to stand against the Twilight Cardinal, they’ll end up isolated from the conversation the rest of the world is having. And when they think that far, they’ll stop acting like priests and start acting like rulers. They’ll put their precious religion aside and assemble a warband.”