Chapter 121

CHAPTER FOUR Many, many people had given this matter quite a lot of thought. And so Col came up with as many ideas as he could. They could hire someone to go to Ohlburg and spread rumors about them being imposters. But if they were going to go with such a roundabout, complicated method, then they could hire a group of priests to hold theological debates with them. Either way, Col did nothing but think and think. And what he learned rather quickly after doing something like this was that it was easy to come up with about five ideas. Ten was exhausting. By the time they reached twenty, his head hurt. And once they reached the thirtieth idea on paper, they were writing down things like sending in a wild horse plastered with papers that said HE’S A FAKE, and Col no longer knew how or why they had thought that was a workable idea. The first day passed in a blink as they sat thinking. On the second day, Le Roi came in to say hello—or rather, come to check in on them—after he had apparently heard about the situation from Eve. Because there were three people here who all had the tendency to get lost in thought together. “Please do not work yourselves too hard.” Le Roi opened the window shutters, and the sun was already high in the sky. It hurt Col’s eyes. The grace period of three days Eve had given them was not the amount of time it would take to prevent the cathedral from putting together a military response. It was because she had estimated that was roughly the amount of time it would take for the foolish trio to completely burn out. Once they had squeezed themselves out to the limit without proper food or sleep and were mentally exhausted, it would be much easier for them to accept harder decisions. “Miss Eve is presently investigating the imposters’ backgrounds with a liaison from Estatt. With her mercantile knowledge, she may find a company name an authority figure might be using as a cover, so we might learn who’s backing the imposters before long.” Simply knowing a copper mine existed did not necessarily mean they could actually mine for copper. And they would need to get materials from somewhere if they were building huts in the town. If someone was offering their knowledge and money, then there should be a trail they could follow. “The city nobles also believe war will be starting soon, so they have been making preparations for such. I’ve been going around asking for information in exchange for rare books.” Le Roi rushed busily around the room as he spoke—he was handing out bread and drinks to Myuri, who stared at the paper as she sat on the corner of the bed, heavy bags under her eyes; and Canaan, who sat in the corner of the room cradling his knees and head in an attempt to get all his ideas out. Perhaps this was exactly how he worked back in the papal archives in the Curia as well. “Estatt seems to be devising a strategy to force a siege. And once Ohlburg runs out of energy and supplies, they believe the town will eventually come around and admit defeat.” If the people cooled from the fervor the imposters pushed them to and showed the intent to repent, then the city, both as a church and as a governing body, would accept them despite their mistakes. “Miss Eve had the same idea, however. A siege would only drag this whole thing out, and there is the very real concern we might let the swindlers escape in the meanwhile. There are plenty of ruins in the area that would make very convenient hiding places, no?” There were large drainage channels from when the area was a copper mine. “And as that drags on, we may draw unwanted attention.” The reason Eve came to the city, ready to shoulder everyone’s hatred, was precisely for that. There may be lords on the mainland who sympathize with the Twilight Cardinal’s thinking. Some might be as zealous as Pierre, and may come rushing to Ohlburg when they found out the poor servants of God were surrounded by Estatt soldiers. “These three days of leeway is how long Miss Eve will wait.” Someone else, another meddlesome individual, might come to Ohlburg at any moment. Eve was a merchant, and she was sensitive to the opportunities she could take; in her eyes, knowing what to do yet choosing not to act on it was painful. And on top of that, how would she feel if she was just a moment too late simply because she had to stand still all for the selfish requests of a little fool? “Miss Eve likes you a lot more than you may realize, Master Col,” Le Roi said brightly, but there was slight exasperation in his demeanor, too. The kind man was a merchant who dealt in dangerous books for a living, and he was much more sensitive to danger than the average person. Perhaps the reason he came to check on them in their room was because he did not trust them as much as Eve did, and he was here to see if they were planning on recklessly rushing into Ohlburg. “I will return if I learn anything else.” Once he was finished doing his part in caring for them, that was all Le Roi said before leaving the room. All that was left was the oddly bracing morning air, and a listless sense of exhaustion. “Perhaps this is what Miss Lutia felt like,” Col said after taking two bites of his bread. He placed it back on the table and gazed out at the blue sky beyond the window. “The problem is reaching a resolution, but that is beyond what we can reach right now.” The name of the Twilight Cardinal had grown too big. And those beyond scope could no longer bother with little affairs. Whether he wanted that or not. Instead, larger presences were expected to walk in the correct direction and become guides for those who follow in their footsteps. Col had a feeling that in things to come, there would be fewer and fewer opportunities where they would be using every ounce of knowledge they had to brave danger, like their adventure had been thus far. He did not particularly like adventures, and he believed it was better to not have any sort of danger at all. But then, a thought came to him. Perhaps the reason Myuri had been so shaken in Aquent was because she had been plagued by this very sentiment when she had heard “the end of our journey.” “Everything about the world has been recorded in books, but…not everything in reality has been written down.” It was Canaan who murmured that. “There will be many more hardships in your future, Master Col.” He stood up, pulling out the roots that seemed to have grown from his rear and had kept him immobile, then spoke bashfully. “I am not sure what I can offer you, but I will continue to support you as best I can.” Col smiled at him, took his hand, and thanked him. He thought he could feel Myuri staring daggers at them as she munched on her bread. But when Canaan let go of his hand, his shoulders dropped, tired. “That said, I really am not much more than a bookworm,” he said. “I am not very good at coming up with my own ideas. I am going back to the cathedral library to see if I might find any hints in the inquisitor records. History occasionally shows us examples of surprising forgiveness, after all.” Canaan twisted, as though forcing his stiffened limbs to stretch, and staggered out of the room. When he opened the door, his guard was sitting in a chair by the door. His guard gave him a tired look, briefly acknowledged Col with a dip of his eyes, then closed the door. Once it shut, silence came, and the faint murmur of bustle from the city drifted in through the window. Myuri sat perfectly still, staring at the paper in her hand. “Myuri?” She was so quiet Col thought she might be sleeping, but she slowly leaned back and lay down on the bed. “None of this is fun,” she muttered to the ceiling. “You’ll solve whatever problem’s given to you, and you’ll punish all the bad people.” If he added that to her typical harsh judgments about him, then he could create the ideal person—he smiled when that thought crossed his mind. With a quiet exhale, Col sat beside her. “We still have two days.” Myuri’s shoulders twitched, perhaps because she was not expecting him to say that. She must have thought he was going to say something overbearing, like “The world does not always go the way we want.” Myuri peered up at him, and Col smiled in return. “I think I’m starting to learn how to act like a big brother,” he said. Or perhaps he was simply growing up. It was not about ideals or reality, but a formidability in wielding both. Myuri, unimpressed, drew her lips into a thin line and rolled over, looping her arms around Col’s waist. Her tail popped out and thumped against the bed in displeasure. By the time it calmed, she said, “Lutia already knew that fangs and claws are useless.” Though she did not write it down on paper due to Canaan’s presence, Myuri, of course, was thinking about those possibilities. She could simply rush to Ohlburg, bite the arses of all the imposters, then run around freely in order to wake up all of those who came to attack her. Even if she fought in a way that would make the most legendary heroes go pale, that would still not solve the problem. And Myuri herself understood that. “They’re not useless. They have their time and place.” Myuri groaned, dissatisfied, because she sensed it to be a sort of placation. When she did this, Col suddenly remembered something about Nyohhira. “When we were building the bathhouse, Miss Holo was like this quite a lot, and Mister Lawrence comforted her.” “She was?” “Her claws had accomplished the great task of finding the spring water. But they could do nothing when it came to more delicate jobs. She used to watch me bitterly whenever I worked the pump.” Myuri sighed and pressed her face against his waist again. The only sounds in the quiet room came from her tail hitting the bed and the bustling city outside. Col placed his hand on her head, and he lifted a corner of his mouth in a tired smile. He was not the only one who felt like what he could do was of no use for the world. He sunk his fingers into the silver hair and swished it around in sympathy. The movement of her tail slowed, then gently came to rest on the bed, weakly puffing and shrinking. She must have fallen asleep. Col reached for the blanket balled at the edge of the bed and laid it over her. As he gazed at her tired, sleeping face, he felt bad for making her go along with this for another two days. No—he had a feeling his understanding would only cause her disappointment. Because even he would feel like something would be missing if this wild girl suddenly became a prim and proper young lady one day. Col gave an exasperated smile and stood from the bed. He collected the scattered pages of notes and looked over every contrived idea, one by one. Despite how difficult it was to come up with each and every one of these ideas, a lot of them seemed stupid, or obvious when written down. But as he flipped through the pages, the same floaty feeling he had when he was patting Myuri’s head cooled and hardened. In two days, the cathedral would give their orders, and the troops that would march on Ohlburg would begin their preparations. Those who believed in the name of the Twilight Cardinal would meet their end in the mud. There had to be a way. A way to prevent a battle. A way that could convince the people to accept they had placed their trust in a fake, and then beg for forgiveness from Estatt. Or one last resort to show there were beautiful things in this world before he became the Twilight Cardinal in earnest—no, before he finally became an adult. But as he flipped through the papers, all he saw were things that told him there was no such thing. The Church, once hard as an oak, was now slowly crumbling, and he thought that perhaps to become thoroughly corrupt was a lot like this. And there existed noble-minded people even in a world like this. Even here, in Estatt, those in power had used every ounce of their knowledge for the sake of the thoughtless, yet pitiful, masses. He turned his gaze to the ceiling, gave a deep sigh, and thought, This is not good. He told himself this was not enough to give him ideas, and he dropped his eyes to the papers again. There was ridiculous idea after ridiculous idea written in Myuri’s handwriting—they had been slapped on the page, perhaps written at around dawn, out of tiredness and irritation that she could not think of anything. They ranged from things just as terrifying as war, like setting Ohlburg on fire, to things almost out of a fairy tale, like gathering up all the strays in Estatt and dragging Ohlburg into confusion. He flipped through with a strained smile, and saw something else. “Inundated…” This land has long suffered floods, and Myuri had gotten a glimpse of the fear people held for it from the remains of the scribblings at the entrance to the catacombs in the cathedral. If they were to see a flood with their own eyes, and not in words, then the people would understand that God was angry, and that the one they believed in was a fake. But as he thought about how they would have to pray for rain in order to make that happen, he saw that Myuri’s angry scrawl continued. Col found himself blinking because what was written there was awfully detailed. “Is this…the land?” There was a picture much the same as her dream village that had no walls, but he could tell by the labels it was of Ohlburg and its environs. There was a circle around Ohlburg, labeled “low.” Around that, she had written “high.” Then, she had drawn a diagonal line from Ohlburg to the north. When he looked at this, he felt a hunch brewing. He lifted his gaze to look at Myuri as she dozed off, then started to look for something else. It was the map he had showed to Eve. The one of Estatt’s surroundings, wherein he had drawn the large, ancient imperial drainage paths. He looked at Myuri’s map, then back at his. “The river…” Heading north from Ohlburg would bring one to the river. And Myuri had written so on her map. High. “………” She had just been talking about her claws and fangs, about how this power proved useless in this day and age. As she dozed, Myuri had forgotten Canaan was present, and had written down exactly what had come to mind. My claws could put a hole in the river. She would cause a flood. Col put a hand to his mouth. Ohlburg was the old site of a copper mine and had likely been abandoned after countless floods and welling of water. And after many months and years, it had been completely submerged in mud. But it was not enough to flatten the topography, and Col had even noticed himself the landscape of days long past still hung on when he had gazed at Ohlburg from afar. And Myuri’s keen wolf senses helped her understand the lay of the land in an instant. Perhaps she had gotten a grasp on the area around the river when she had run around there, searching for the scammers’ hideout. Myuri’s note continued. Brother was so unbelievably angry at me when I broke the pond on the mountain behind the house. He’s so stupid! Myuri had caused countless mischief, and it was only when he read that did he remember the incident. She wrote more. We can just blame the river flooding on the people digging up the ruins. Compared to her other absurd plans, this one was oddly specific. Myuri had seen what they were doing with her own eyes, and it was essentially an extension of what this wild child had done in the past, so of course it reflected that. But the reason he held his breath was not because he recalled how faint he had felt at the time. “Perhaps the cathedral has not thought of this yet…?” Because that would mean knocking down the embankments of the river. If anything, it would be considered a despicable idea by people who had spent their entire lives fighting against floods. And how they would break the embankment was a genuine question. If anything, it was less that they would be destroying the embankment, and more that they would have to dig a large drain into the flat riverside. But Myuri could perhaps accomplish the feat on her own. Though she was nothing in comparison with the wisewolf, her wolf form was imposing in its own right. The more he thought about it, the more he felt her unbelievable prank was a fitting way to get the people of Ohlburg to wake up. There was one thing they always said—stop dozing, go wash your face. It was good that the river was to the north. If they were to cut through the embankment here, then the water would flow south to Ohlburg, and then continue westward to the sea. The people would head west to escape the water as well, and what was waiting for them there was— “Estatt.” In that moment, memories from Nyohhira played out clearly in his mind. Together with the other children, Myuri had broken the pond out of pure curiosity, and then had apparently gotten swept up in a furious torrent of water. She then came to the entrance of the inn, soaking wet and covered in scratches, looking like the dead. Despite how faint Col had felt, Myuri was relieved, and began sobbing aloud. That was right. In the moment, Col did not have the will to get angry. He recalled the scent of algae from the pond when he hugged her out of relief that she was safe. Which meant… “Which means…?” Perhaps Estatt would be the same. And to make matters worse, the land was muddy, one where everyone shared the fear of flooding. Though imprudent of him, he pictured the sight in his head—the masses chased away by the water, seeking salvation. And then, the merciful priests who would take them in. “The fourth stanza in the psalms… The tale of the Land of Hope…” There were details they would have to cut back on. In essence, they were artificially creating a flood, and there was a chance the result would be even worse than war. But it was worth looking into. Because he would not be able to make such ridiculous and outrageous plans once he grew up. “Myuri!” he called as he rushed to the bed. Myuri grumbled. Col shook her shoulders, then lifted her up into a sit. She looked very cross with him. “I know how much you love playing in the mud,” he said, shoving the paper to her face. Slowly, her eyes widened. They headed for Ohlburg on horse. Their actual destination was a short distance from Ohlburg, to be more precise, and with Myuri at the reins, she had it galloping at a terrifying speed. She would not listen to him even when he asked her to slow down, and so he gave up and simply clung to her lithe waist. Myuri proceeded through the pathless wilderness unerringly—perhaps she had memorized the surrounding geography when she had been searching for the scammers’ hideout. Before long, they finally arrived at the riverside road north of Estatt. The river itself flowed from the east, connecting inland by wrapping around Ohlburg. As the horse breathed hard, Myuri stood on the saddle, squinted her eyes and gazed into the distance. When she did this, it almost seemed like she had been riding horses through the open fields her whole life, though she was born and raised in the mountains. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, then sat back down. “We can flood this whole area.” Those destructive words slipped from her mouth with such ease. “I have a feeling they used the dirt and rocks they dug up at the mine here to stop the flow of the river here,” she said, looking at her feet. “When I was looking at the pictures in the annals, I thought it was weird because I saw a few pictures that showed the river flowing in a different direction. But I guess they had to change the flow of the river if they were going to be digging holes in a place that floods a lot, so it makes sense.” The river ran from east to west, and the ground alongside it was raised slightly. And if they were to look toward Ohlburg from there, then it was clear Myuri’s idea was no laughing matter. “My claws could break this down.” The village children had often played like this. They would stop the flow of some little creeks, or sometimes they would free up the flow by clearing fallen leaves and branches. “If your fakes are digging up ore, then we can definitely blame the flood on them.” At some point, she had hidden her ears and tail, and there was a serious expression on her face. This sort of disaster once happened frequently here. “Once the people in Ohlburg learn the water’s coming, they’ll probably drop everything and run. I don’t think…floods have a very good place in the people’s memory here.” The entrance to the catacombs in the cathedral still had graffiti from those who had escaped the water. When the sea levels were higher, water had reached those places countless times. And every time it did, they got on boats, or swam to Estatt, which was protected by stone. And each time, they were thankful. The relief of standing on firm stone, not sticky mud or bogs that swallowed all that came close, gave a relief that affirmed the presence of God more than any sermon. Col knew of a sad fact. Praying held no power. If a flood threatened Ohlburg, the imposters would have to give themselves away. Because prayer would not stop a flood. And then the people of Ohlburg would forget about the Twilight Cardinal and run. There would be no need to send in soldiers. Ther would be nothing they could do but run in the face of a natural threat. “And then, that’s when the…sawlm? Stanza four? From the scripture?” Myuri said hesitatingly as she turned to Col. She had never shown an ounce of interest in faith, but it seemed Canaan had told her about this. Even the gracious lessons in the scripture were divided into fun and unfun stories in her mind. And it seemed stanza four of the psalm was a fun one. That was because it was a tale of adventure, of people beset by natural disaster setting off for the promised land. “You…probably can’t lead them, right, Brother?” If the people realized the actual Twilight Cardinal was here, their fervor would simply transfer from the imposter to him, and none of their problems would be solved. If anything, if he tried to advocate for reconciliation with Estatt, then it was more than likely the people of Ohlburg would begin calling him an imposter. “I could have thought of a proper plan if you were a little gentler on the horse.” Col gave a little jab. She could communicate with the horse, so she had urged it to unbelievable speeds. But standing here on this desolate land, he knew right away who it was that should take on the role of leading the people. “I know the perfect person to lead the people seeking to escape the water.” “Who?” “Lord Hobeln.” Myuri’s lips parted slightly, then her gaze drifted up and to the left. “But…he can’t be reliable, can he?” “He is the one local lord the people of Ohlburg have placed their trust in. If he were to take the lead, then the people would certainly trust that he would be guiding them to safety. And when they escape to Estatt, we can use the story of a local lord standing tall between the people and the cathedral to mediate.” This was a role no one else could take on. Col himself, however, was uncertain if Hobeln could do such a thing, or if he would even cooperate in the first place. But he was their only choice. And their one mistake was that Hobeln was not, in fact, happily working alongside the scammers. He was being used and looked down on. Col believed if they created an opportunity for the imposters to be arrested as such and give him a role to lead his people, who were also being manipulated, into safety, then he would be happy to work with them. And while it was nothing in comparison to what Myuri could do, the role was still much too heroic for Col. “So, it’ll probably…go…well?” When Myuri first came up with this idea, she was sleepy and scarcely conscious. Perhaps now, standing here on the site where the deed would be done, it was finally sinking in just how ridiculous the whole plan was. Would the flood of water be only just enough to scare people? That was what Myuri was worrying about. It was not going to be a flood that would cause them pain, like the people who were at the entrance of the cathedral catacombs. Throughout her whole life, she had done things without any afterthought, only to be scolded and often ended up crying. It seemed she, too, had grown up. “It will,” Col responded confidently. And now it was Myuri’s turn to be nervous seeing her brother so confident. “B-but, it’d be easy to knock down the embankment, but really hard to stop the water. If more water comes out than we expect, then we might not be able to stop it once it starts.” Standing here, by the river, they could see the land where Ohlburg sat seemed rather low. If they were to break the embankment, the muddied water would flow in like a torrent. “And then the whole town of Ohlburg is going to be thrown into chaos, right? That Hobeln guy was just one drunk old man, though. Even if he managed to threaten your fake and his friends ahead of time and got them to cooperate, there’s only like ten, maybe twenty of them. Would that be enough to bring everyone safely to Estatt?” After listing all those doubts, Myuri took a deep breath then added, “And the bad guys in every story are such sore losers until the very end. When the water comes and it’s chaos everywhere, they might run, or maybe they’ll get desperate and use the weapons they’ve been hoarding.” As her older brother, Col wished at times like this she would read books that were a little more ladylike, such as cooking, or raising herbs, but he had to admit the knowledge she had collected from reading so fervently was certainly being put to good use. “But thinking about the townspeople, the soldiers from Estatt can’t lead them to safety, can they? Could all of Miss Eve’s friends handle it?” Of course, her feeble brother did not count among them. Canaan was unlikely to be able to take on the role, nor was Le Roi. They had too few actors for the massive scene they wanted to perform. A battle could not be carried out with only a handful of people. But Col did not panic. And he was a little surprised Myuri did not notice the solution. “This must be because you spurred on the horse too quickly and stimulated my mind. I have thought of this already.” He kept prodding her for how she handled the horse; she frowned up at him and slapped him on the back, but the way she immediately grasped his clothes was full of expectation. Col smiled at her in return, then reached out to her. It was the small pouch of wheat hanging from her neck that he curled his fingers around. “What is your name?” Myuri’s head was tilted down to look at her chest. She only lifted her gaze to look at him, wide-eyed. “…Huh?” Myuri. Her name had been passed down across a long history. Her red eyes rounded like the full moon. “Oh!” There was a way to flesh out this ridiculous plot. Col himself may have been powerless, but his acquaintances were not. Because that was where the Twilight Cardinal’s power truly lay. “Uh, um, wait, s-so, Brother, you—” The whole plan was reforming itself in her head. Excitement and expectation for what was to come, and the way her very soul shuddered at the prospect of facing this hardship head-on made it difficult for her words to catch up. Myuri was a girl who always moved at full speed. His role as her slightly obtuse older brother was to gently encourage her forward. “Yes. And that should solve everything.” He put a hand on her back and turned her toward Ohlburg. “Let’s give this story a good ending.” Myuri gave a voiceless cry, threw her arms around him, then quickly stepped back. She leaped onto the horse with great energy, then reared the horse like a skilled knight. “Get on, Brother!” “Please don’t go too fast.” While she did help him get on the horse, his little knight, of course, ignored what he said. The horse they were borrowing from Eve bolted off at full speed, and Col clung to Myuri in a panic. But he was not as afraid of what was to come because he had a feeling he, too, was more excited about it than anything else. After hearing about the plan from a very confident Myuri, Eve pressed a hand to her forehead, as though enduring a headache. The woman stared at Col ruefully because she knew if Myuri was the one telling her about the plan, then that meant it had her brother’s approval. But considering the plan itself, it was not something they could carry out of their own accord if Eve did not approve. For example, arranging for the Estatt cathedral to take people in. In the eyes of the people of Estatt, who ruled over this land for many years in Hobeln’s place, for the river embankment to break and flood the land was nothing more than terrifying. And taking in those who were just barely escaping with their lives would require concrete planning. They needed to prepare carefully if they wanted to cause just the right kind of commotion outside. When they told her all this, a somewhat vexed look crossed Eve’s face, and she looked just like Myuri when she realized she had been outwitted. And there was one last thing he needed to tell her—the most important thing that would make this plan a success. “And so I’d like you to begin preparations for receiving the Myuri Mercenary Company, Miss Eve.” The name of the wild girl they knew today had once belonged to a wolf who lived long, long ago. Myuri the wolf was once active in the era of spirits, as Holo the Wisewolf was, and a warrior had founded a mercenary group using her name, which had survived into the present day. And that same name had been given by Holo to her daughter. The Myuri Mercenary Company had a storied history and legends of their own, and was still a well-known name in the north. They would need many hands to keep their aggressive plan under control. The most powerful people Col knew were none other than these mercenaries, who had inherited the name of Myuri from ancient times. The moment he had heard there was an imposter of himself, he had sent a letter to the Myuri Mercenary Company, just in case. That was one of the two letters he had sent from Aquent. But just as how someone drawing their sword in the middle of a city would cause problems, the presence of a purely military force like a mercenary group alone could cause problems. Eve had to speak with the cathedral, otherwise things would only get more complicated. And hiring them would cost them quite a bit of money, but a great merchant sat in front of him. “Boy, aren’t you the tough boss,” Eve said after dropping her shoulders. There was something of joy in her voice. Once they received Eve’s approval, they sent a letter to Aquent. As they proceeded with the plan, it became clear they still needed a few more hands. And so Col asked Lutia to send Pierre over. As things moved in preparation for their plan, days passed—it was three days after they had sent along the letter with one of Sharon’s bird friends. The innkeeper called Col to the first floor. When he went down, he found Pierre standing there, as though he had come straight away and without rest on his journey, fury bursting from his expression. “Pierre of Ashredge has arrived!” Col was just thankful he did not shout, Twilight Cardinal, Your Eminence! Regardless of how Myuri pressed both of her hands over her ears in annoyance, Col grasped the hand of his reliable ally and took him to their room. “I am glad you decided to come, Mister Pierre.” “I would never dream of not coming! I should be ashamed of myself—my faith was lacking, and I was unable to see how pious you truly are! And to think your imposter has set up this so-called Church of the Beginning—what insolence! How shall I be of service to you?!” Pierre had been holed up in the church ever since he went to Aquent. After receiving the letter, Lutia gathered a draft copy of the vernacular translation of the scripture, one Col had left behind for the students, and showed it to Pierre to convince him. Only an abridged translation was making its rounds across the mainland. No one had the more complete version yet. And so when Pierre saw a portion of the draft, he understood right away it was the real thing. Pierre made one of Col’s fleeting dreams come true—that the right thing would always be the right thing, no matter who in what position said it. “If I were to reveal my identity and denounce them, the problem would only grow more complicated. Instead, I would like a local lord with the trust of the people to denounce them in my place, but he has grown despondent and lost the will to fight evil since he came to believe God has abandoned him.” Once Col gave a brief overview of Hobeln’s situation, Pierre nodded in understanding. “Leave this in my hands. I am rather adept at forcing God’s protection onto those whose ears have been closed!” Myuri, who had her hands over her ears because of how loud Pierre talked, removed her hands in surprise, and then quickly found joy in his vicious expression. Another two days passed after Pierre’s arrival. The city of Estatt was abuzz; there were suddenly more people clad in armor and riding on horses. The cathedral received Eve’s persuasion, and after a conference, they accepted every aspect of their idea. Perhaps they had done so in order to make sure the kingdom, and by extension the Twilight Cardinal, would owe them an obligation. Either way, as the plans rushed forward, Col and company gathered in Eve’s warehouse once again. “I’ve got a general idea of who it is that’s backing the scammers.” “Who?” Myuri asked, and Eve grinned. “The Ruvik Alliance.” Myuri tilted her head, but the first image that flashed in Col’s mind was a large ship left to the mercy of turbulent waters beneath blue skies. “Is their current plot a way to kill two birds with one stone? To sully the name of the Twilight Cardinal while making money?” “I laughed so hard when Hyland told me how you made a fool of them.” Myuri tugged on Col’s sleeve, and Col told her they were the mercantile alliance that had been allied with the Church when they were dealing with Autumn, the whale spirit. They were an alliance of merchants, once crowned the most powerful in the world, and legend had it they had caused the downfall of a large country in a war surrounding trade concessions. “They’re deeply entangled with the Church’s rights and privileges, but they’re hurting pretty bad right now, thanks to you.” “…Me?” Col wondered if it had something to do with what had happened in the northern islands, but Eve’s eyes instead softened with delight. “You preach asceticism, so the Church can’t lavishly waste its money like it used to. That’s why their most extensive merchandise has stopped selling. Their business is on shaky legs these days.” Myuri must have recalled how violent they had been back in the northern islands; an expression crossed her face that read, “Serves them right.” “It’s not clear if there was a group of swindlers that saw their current state and approached them with a plan, or if they’re the ones that sought out the swindlers themselves, but either way, they managed to come up with this plan as a result. Like you said, they get to make some cash while lowering the hated Twilight Cardinal’s reputation. Either way, it’s an outsider’s plot.” Eve sighed. “It probably wouldn’t be very hard to convince Hobeln.” She then put her hand on the plan manifest and tapped it. “We’ll get Hobeln to join us and make him remember what he really is. He’ll then indict the imposter calling himself the Twilight Cardinal, and then warn them that God will punish them for sullying the ancient church. The people in Ohlburg likely won’t believe him—if anything, they’ll probably get furious and call Hobeln a traitor. But just as he’ll have foretold, the flood waters will come. They’ll be terrified. But the one who will save Ohlburg from the muddy waters and take them to the promised land…will be none other than Hobeln himself.” Eve heaved a heavy sigh, one strong enough to lift the page that detailed the entire thing. She had likely been shocked by how absurd the plan was each time she read it over. Eve was surprisingly realistic; she glared up at Col. “And it’ll be the mercenary company that plugs the gaps in this ad hoc plan if need be.” Col nodded firmly. Eve loved secretive plots, but this was completely different. Clearly bothered by all of this, she rose and led Col and Myuri out of the warehouse. She stood there, displeased, and scowled at the people who were just stepping off a ship. “I don’t even want to think about how much it costs to hire someone with legitimate money.” Mercenaries were appointed to important positions in wars between cities, and the scope of their fees reflected that. All they had to do this time was pay for their transport, their food, and their lodgings, but that alone came with a hefty fee, and Eve wore a bitter expression on her face, considering accounting was her duty. Though it was a necessary expense as they prepared for the ecumenical council, she was still exasperated by the fact even battles of faith cost this much money. “Uncle Luward!” Regardless, Myuri spotted the mercenary captain, Luward, and dashed toward him at full speed. Luward, who had been giving commands to his men, showed no ounce of hesitation as the rambunctious girl flew at him. The grizzled man caught her with ease. Myuri must have thought of Luward as a toy with which she could be as rough as she wanted and he still would not break. He lifted her up with both hands high into the air, then placed her on his shoulder. “Good to see you looking well, Little Miss.” Luward was not all that big, but he had enough strength to be worthy of being called the leader of a mercenary company. “You too, Col,” Luward began, but then theatrically cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Twilight Cardinal. It delights me to see you in good health.” “Oh, please stop, Mister Luward,” Col said. Luward burst out laughing, put Myuri down, planted both hands on his hips, and gave a dauntless smile. “I’m glad I can be of service to your family again.” The Myuri Mercenary Company was a band of seasoned warriors, well known in the north. Scammers could hardly be considered their typical enemy, but they were likely experienced in bringing together and leading panicking people in emergencies. “But this sure is a hell of a plan you’ve put together. We’ve used similar tactics before, but only really to keep enemy forces from crossing key rivers. You’re flooding an entire plain, aren’t you? And you want us to lead every single person in that town out of there.” “But it’s nothing compared to marching through a blizzard, right?” Myuri pointed out. Luward pounded his chest, as if saying “Of course.” He then found Eve, and said his hellos to his employer as mercenary captain. As that was happening, Canaan, who had been helping Eve by coordinating with the cathedral, returned. When he saw the mercenaries gathered at the port, their unique aura enshrouding them, he looked worried. For those like him, mercenaries were also known to be trouble. When Col told him they could be trusted, Canaan nodded, yet oddly, he remained hidden behind his bodyguard. “It’s been boring job after boring job lately. Let’s put on a real show!” Luward was getting his men motivated. It was only moments after that Col spotted Myuri in their ranks, getting just as riled up as the rest of them. Prayer could not move boulders, nor could God protect against falling blades. The plan written on paper was no more than a few smudges of ink and a sprinkling of details—reality was complicated and hard to predict at the best of times. Col thought he and Myuri made sure their ridiculous plan was airtight, but that was only because they had only come up with it in their minds, and they were generally ignorant of the world. And yet their goal was to destroy the embankment of the river to flood a piece of land lower than the water level, and at the same time make sure there were no casualties. Even the most open-minded god would look on with disbelief. And while the famous Luward mercenary company would be helping them, there was no way to tell if they could keep a plan of this scope completely under their control. Praying for God’s protection was not enough; they sent people out to Ohlburg and the surrounding area, looking at every minor geographic detail, up until the very last minute. As Luward and the mercenaries refined their plan based on the lay of the land, they picked out a few escape routes, and the sheer ridiculousness of the plan became increasingly obvious. The important job of knocking down the river embankment, of course, fell to Myuri and her peerless strength as a wolf. They did not have the time to bring in tools to trigger a sudden flood without catching anyone’s attention. And when Myuri attended the strategy meeting, she, too, looked earnest. Luward also said he wanted to use that very same wolf strength to close up the broken embankment as well. If they did not put it back to normal, then there was a chance the damages would grow even worse. Luward’s men were adept at that sort of engineering work—digging and filling holes—during siege warfare; when Myuri was meeting with them with regards to that, Col saw tension on her face he had never seen before. Canaan and Le Roi were in communication with the cathedral, working out the details of how much damage a planned flood might cause, and how they would receive the people fleeing. Together with the people of the cathedral, the people who had ruled Estatt as lords for many years, referred to past records and even put together a plan to ready soldiers and ships nearby, just in case. When Eve saw how much all this would cost, she scowled and kept her quill in hand as she audibly groaned. Col, on the other hand, almost felt overwhelmed when he saw just how many people were working toward a singular goal. This whole plot had been set in motion not to simply remove the swindlers from the picture and save the people who were being tricked, but ultimately to protect the name and reputation of the Twilight Cardinal—himself. Even if someone told him he had to accept reality for what it was, all he could muster was bewilderment. But they were far past the point where he could mask his uncertainty as humility, and he had a feeling they would face hardships like this many more times in the future, on even bigger scales. Once the Church knew the Twilight Cardinal had begun his activities on the mainland, they may earnestly begin fighting back. In order to fight back, he would need to get the help of many people—or even use them—and do things far beyond what he believed himself capable of. At times, he might have to take responsibility for things he had no involvement in, and his great power may bring about consequences he did not want. He had to get used to this. He had to find the nerve to play the part of the Twilight Cardinal. Col thought he had prepared himself for all of this, but on the night before everything was to be set in motion, he was not so sure anymore. No one was sleeping in Eve’s warehouse; and in one such room, Myuri said to him, “I thought every boy wanted to be a general when they grew up.” It seemed Myuri had noticed his flagging spirit. “But you’re going to be giving commands with Uncle Luward on a nearby hill, right?” That was the plan, yes, but in reality, he had no part to play in the plan, so it was their way of keeping him out of harm. “I’m gonna be playing a huge role! I hope you’ll be watching!” It was Myuri’s job to break open the river’s embankment. Though she would have veteran mercenaries with her, there was no doubt this would be a dangerous job. Because if any of the mercenaries got caught in the water, she would have to be the one to save them, and if the water were to suddenly overflow beyond what they were expecting, she would even have to jump into the water with sacks filled with stones to block it. Col would have fainted if he heard about this back when he was still in Nyohhira, but now, he swallowed the urge to stop her. Myuri was certainly capable of such a feat, and they would need her strength. And most importantly, Myuri wanted to show off her power. “I bet Lutia will be so angry when she hears I got to put my fangs and claws to good use.” Myuri regarded the other wolf spirit as a bit of a rival. Or perhaps she felt that rivalry because she saw Lutia as a bit of a big sister. As those thoughts crossed his mind, she stared at him. She sighed, then stepped behind him. “C’mon! Chin up!” She smacked his back, and he straightened up. She folded her arms and looked at him flatly. “Look at you. No one’s gonna believe you’re the real Twilight Cardinal!” He tried to smile, but could not, though he did manage to look somewhat proud. “Those who know, will know. At the very least, Mister Pierre believed I was the real one when he saw my translation.” Myuri made a face like a cat who had just smelled something awful and drew up her shoulders. “I bet people are going to start thinking Screaming Pierre is the Twilight Cardinal right about now.” Pierre, now with a strange nickname courtesy of Myuri, had left Estatt not long ago. He was on his way to the swindlers’ hideout along with the most elite of Luward’s men and Az. At that moment, they should have been making a surprise raid on a certain hideout, rounding up all the swindlers, and giving Hobeln a strong talking to. By dawn, they would also be taking advantage of the dark of night to arrest the miners digging up copper under the pretext of unearthing ruins. Then, in the morning, when the imposter would give his regular sermon after being thoroughly admonished, Hobeln would accuse him of being an imposter. Once they saw the people of Ohlburg begin to stir, they would break the embankment. Considering the power of the Myuri Mercenary Company, it was unlikely things would fail up until that point. If they could successfully complete step one, which was raiding the base and humbling the scammers, then one of Sharon’s bird friends would give them a report. Once they received the message, they would leave Estatt. Right now, they were waiting. Col was still nervous despite how much Myuri was teasing him, and that frustrated the rambunctious girl—her guts were almost as steely as her mother’s. Then, there came a knock at the door. It was Eve and Canaan. “Did we get a message?!” was the first thing Col blurted out. Eve gave a strained smile. “Calm down. Our general’s not supposed to be on edge.” Myuri, standing beside him, gave a big sigh, as though completely agreeing with her. Col shrunk into himself. “I believe Mister Luward is our general, not me…” “I see. It’s just like Canaan told me.” “…?” Eve stared at him, exasperated, while Canaan stepped into the room. There was a folded cloth in his hands. “While you will not be giving your name this time around, Master Col, there will be a considerable number of people barely escaping with their lives who will see you from afar.” The next thing he noticed, he saw Luward standing behind Eve and Canaan. “Us mercenaries have caught glimpses of the shadows of our guardian spirits many times through storms and blizzards.” Col’s gaze drifted from Luward’s joyous smile back to Canaan’s hands. “The people will talk. They will tell tales of someone who watched over their trial from afar, after they had been duped by an imposter and were enduring God’s wrath,” Canaan spoke as though he were reciting a verse from a hagiography, his cheeks flushed, and he placed the clothes on a nearby table. Myuri immediately gave a gasp of admiration, and Col looked at Eve in surprise. “I didn’t arrange for this. After Hyland read the letter you sent her, she took the opportunity to send them to me.” Lying on the table was a terrifyingly fine piece of clothing. It was dyed a black that seemed like it would pull everything in, and it was subtly embroidered with gold thread. It was a garment as solemn as it was dignified. “Though it is different from the style of any church or monastery, it is a truly magnificent priest’s habit. While it does not have the emblem that denotes any position within the clergy, no one will look at this and doubt your holiness.” Though Canaan wore a white habit, since he worked at the pope’s feet in the Holy See at the heart of the Church, the priestly garb sitting before Col was solid black. “And here’s your message from Hyland.” Eve handed him a piece of paper. And though it lacked any sort of official seal, Hyland’s fine handwriting read: The night is darkest before dawn. When he read it aloud, Col became painfully aware of how Hyland must have felt when she put this together for him. He truly felt like he had made it this far because of the bond he had built with someone who should have been far beyond his reach. “Not a bad idea to start with looking the part.” The Twilight Cardinal, the world’s dawnbringer. He recalled what Myuri said back disparagingly to him in Aquent when they had heard an imposter had appeared. He understood now. If rumors of the Twilight Cardinal always included descriptions of an outfit like this, then very few could easily imitate him. The excitement on Myuri’s face urged him to take off his coat, and Canaan helped him change. It was like a robe in style, and that made it easy to don and doff—it was well thought-out. It was held together not by a sash, but by hooks, perhaps a way to give the garment as little ornamentation as possible. It undoubtedly cost quite a bit of coin, but it exuded an elegance that did not give that away at first glance. The fabric was fairly rigid, which meant it naturally straightened and steadied his posture. And when he closed the collar, the minor tightness instead felt comfortable. Canaan then brushed back Col’s hair with pig fat or something of the sort. “Ah-ha.” That was Luward. Eve folded her arms, looked back and forth between him and her own clothes, and her lips folded into a frown. It seemed she was starting to feel competitive about the quality of her clothes as a merchant. Canaan, after helping him dress, looked around the room. Once he found what he was looking for, he placed it in Col’s hands. Holding the scripture as a prop like this made him feel, quite honestly, embarrassed, but he knew this was his duty. He breathed deeply. And it was times like this Myuri was typically the loudest; when he turned to look at her, he froze. “………” Myuri’s face was bright red. “I-is something wrong?” he asked and leaned forward. Myuri’s eyes widened and she took a half step backward, then dropped her gaze like a young girl. Well, she was a girl, but Col was bewildered by her reaction—he had never seen her like this before. It was then they heard heavy footsteps from the hallway. It was Le Roi. “If I may, everyone, it is time.” He had likely received a report the mission was a success from those raiding the hideout. The Myuri Mercenary Company and Eve’s guard knew of nonhumans, so they could communicate quickly by making use of Sharon’s bird friends.