“You jest. The title of sage is an awesome one.” “Then why be so formal?” Hyland spoke with a teasing grin. “Col, I am no match for your scholarship, and we will be relying on your skills. However, it is not your job to curry favor with me.” He had said something similar when they debated at the bathhouse, but while a part of it was Hyland’s honesty, another part of it was perhaps a plea. When he spoke of currying favor as a job, the courteous Stefan appeared not to know what he was talking about, to an unnatural extent. “All right. I have always spoken like this, however.” “Very well.” Hyland smiled a boyish, innocent smile, then continued with a wry one. “And who is this girl? Why is she here?” “Hiss!” Myuri poked her head out from behind Col, baring her teeth at Hyland. “Ha-ha, lively as always. Mr. Stefan, we had sugar and blueberry candies, yes? I want to give her some.” Stefan had been watching them blankly, but as the master merchant that he was, he immediately nodded politely. “Then later for supper,” Hyland said, then walked off briskly. His attendant followed after him, and Col felt as though the heavy air had suddenly lightened. That must be the noble presence. “Myuri, do not be so rude.” Myuri was glaring at Hyland as he exited the building, and when Col spoke, she puffed her cheeks and looked away. “But I’ll take the candy.” She grumbled, even more dissatisfied, and Col nudged her in the head, sighing in exasperation. Their room was on the third floor. It was typically meant for merchants who were visiting the company. There was only one bed, so the boy who brought them there offered to prepare another one, but they could not ask so much. In addition, Myuri was not a bad sleeper, so it did not bother Col terribly. Of course, he also did not see her as a member of the opposite sex. Therefore, instead of a bed, they asked for a disguise for Myuri. “Hey, Brother?” As he reached into his bag and retrieved several worn pens and a heavily annotated copy of the scripture, Myuri called out to him. “Where are we right now? This is a world map, right?” Myuri was standing in front of a large diagram hanging on the wall. The map had been drawn on a single piece of leather, and it was big enough to wrap around Myuri. It was not the parchment of a sheep but probably of one entire young cow. “We’re around here.” The southern metropolis, where the pope resided, was in the middle of the map. Using that as a guideline, Atiph would be quite far in the upper left corner. “Where’s Nyohhira?” “Up the river from Atiph here.” He pointed to the edge of the map, under the beard of a decorative sun with a human face. “Ah-ha-ha. It’s the edge of the world.” “And yet, people there are leading lives just as active.” “You traveled a long time ago too, right, Brother? Where was that?” “Let’s see…,” he answered honestly, but Myuri’s curiosity was endless. A knock at the door interrupted them, so he happily broke off. “Myuri, stop staring at the map and come change.” What arrived were the set of boy’s clothes and the sugar and blueberry candies that Hyland mentioned to Stefan. “Oh, wow!” Of course, it was not the boy’s clothes that excited her. Her ears and tail popped out so forcefully he could almost hear it, and when she flew forward, he quickly spun her around. “You may eat after you change.” There was a fair difference in their heights, so once he held the tray of candies above his head, Myuri could not reach them. She looked at him sadly, but when he shook his head, her expression suddenly became quite cross. With that rapid change in her visage, she snatched the clothes up. “Sheesh, what a pain…” Grumbling, she went to change, and as she carelessly shucked off her clothes, he of course left the room. “What? But you always see me in the bath!” Myuri sounded puzzled, but that was not the problem. He leaned against the door and sighed. Her mother, Holo, almost never hesitated to show skin, which was of course expected from the embodiment of a wolf. And so it would be shameful if he protested too much and appeared to have wicked feelings, but upon further consideration, no, she should be a virtuous maiden. However, when he saw Myuri naked without the clouding steam of Nyohhira, it was a little different than he imagined. At some point, the hard angles on her thin and rather muscular-looking body had begun to disappear. Though she was not quite fully matured, he could probably predict what was to come. While he was joyful at the thought of how she was properly growing up, he also felt a bit sad for some reason. “My bashful brother, I’m changed!” As he waited, absentmindedly eating candy, he heard her rude call from the other side of the door. When he opened the door and entered the room, a pretty young boy was standing there. “Eh-heh-heh. What do you think?” “…I’m shocked. Appearances really are important.” While the fine make of the clothes certainly had something to do with it, the starched trousers and slim-fitted sleeves, the spotless, thin vest, and the long sash wrapping around her waist made her into the very image of a young boy who took orders beside a great merchant. “But what should I do about my hair? I guess I can just tie it up like yours, huh?” Though Col was growing his out because it was too much of a bother to cut it, Myuri’s hair was much longer. “It may be best to braid it nicely.” “Okay.” She brought the chair from under the desk over to where Col was, then reached out and snatched the tray of candy from him. After that, Myuri sat in the chair, her back facing him. “Mm.” It was as though she was commanding him to braid her hair. He did not have the energy to be angry. He retrieved a comb from Myuri’s things and began running it through her hair while she happily stuffed her face with candy. The strands had a strange texture—soft and slightly cool to the touch. There was quite a lot of it, so he set about making two braids and then twisting them together. “Still…This is all such a pain.” “What, do you mean the effort required in taking care of you?” “Nuh-uh!” Myuri said, leaning backward over the chair to look at him upside down. “I mean how I have to hide my ears and tail and how I have to hide that I’m a girl.” “That’s how the world is. Come now, sit up straight.” He poked her head, and she obediently fixed her posture. It had been a while since he braided her hair, and it was surprisingly entertaining. She used to always pester him to braid her hair. As he recalled how she had eventually stopped doing that, she spoke up again. “Hey, Brother?” “What is it?” He finished one braid and took hold of the next section of hair. He combed through it again, but Myuri did not continue. “Is something wrong?” he asked again, and the hand she had been eating candy with stopped moving. She spoke in a tone of voice he could not read. “Is there a place on that map where I don’t have to hide my ears and tail?” His hands stopped automatically. He looked up, and before the sitting Myuri was the massive world map. Even a large town like Atiph only occupied one corner of the map, and it was doubtful if Nyohhira was even on it. The world was so big and filled with endless possibilities. And then, he realized it. Perhaps that was the very reason Myuri wanted to leave Nyohhira. “That’s…” But his words caught in his throat. Myuri was almost never let out of her room in the bathhouse until she was old enough to know what was going on. When she was, everything but her face was completely wrapped in cloth. Her parents explained to those around her that she was weak and could not handle the steam from the baths, but it was, of course, to hide her ears and tail. By the time she understood what was what, her mother, Holo, told her about her heritage, the concept of demonic possession, and that if they were found out, they could no longer stay in Nyohhira. He remembered it like it was yesterday, the day she learned the truth and how she came crying to him with her questions. “Will no one want to be my friend anymore?” As someone who dreamed of being a priest, it was clear how he should answer: When you are in pain, when you are sad, when you feel lonely, if you lift your eyes to the sky, you will see your own eternal companion. However, at that time, what he said was something else. “At the very least, no matter what happens to me, I will always be your friend.” That day, Myuri learned that the world was a dark, cold place and desperately searched for something to rely on. He sensed that, in order for his words to reach her heart just then, he needed conviction sturdier than any stone. His gut had told him he needed to tell her he believed in her—words that he could speak with full confidence. He could not even speak for her father, Lawrence, much less for a god who had yet to look his way. As long as he was speaking only for himself, it was a solid promise. Then, Myuri had smiled. “I’m glad,” she said, smiling. Ever since then, Myuri had accepted her fate, learned how to hide her ears and tail, and lived in Nyohhira as a (questionably) regular girl. He thought she had gotten over it a long time ago, but perhaps it was not so easy. “That’s…” His hands that had been braiding her hair were still stopped. He had a sense that lies and consolation would convey themselves to her through his hands. More than anything, it would be rude to her to underestimate her as someone who could be easily tricked. “That might be difficult.” The world was supported by the Church, as the pope’s throne was in the center of the map. Even in places that respected local legends, it was still a gamble as to whether or not nonhumans would be accepted. “Myuri, but—” “It’s okay,” Myuri said, bending back and looking at him again. “Like Mother has Father, I have you. Right?” Her smile was more mature than it used to be. She was purposely twisting her body in a strange way, and he realized it was her way of being considerate by hiding her seriousness. “…Right. I’m surprised how well you remember, considering you never listen to what I say.” Like Col himself and Lawrence, there would always be people who understood. She would be fine as long as she found companions like that. Myuri closed her eyes and furrowed her brows, baring her teeth at him. Leaning back, she seemed about to fall, and he hurriedly caught her, but apparently she had trusted him to do just that. Her eyes still closed, Myuri had a relatively calm expression on her face. “Then it’s all right. We’re always together.” She opened her eyes, smiling shyly, and sat up straight. “Come now, Brother, hurry up and braid my hair. I want to see the attractions in town.” “Attractions? We did not come here for fun, you know,” Col scolded her. Though her thin shoulders shook in laughter, from behind, Myuri seemed a little lonely. Unlike her mother, Holo, she had not lived for hundreds of years. Though she could catch the biggest of adults off guard in an argument, she was still very much the young girl that she appeared to be. From here on, she would experience many troubles and hardships. He could not protect her from them all, but he wanted to do what he could. He wove his feelings neatly into Myuri’s hair. Neither of them could say a word. They spent the time in silence. Once Myuri was done preparing, they went to see Stefan and ask about Our Book of God, but it was just as crowded in front of the office as it had been in the unloading area. “Brother, what is this?” A wide variety of individuals stood in front of Stefan’s office in the innermost part of the first floor, from the well-dressed to those clothed not so nicely, and they all wore grave expressions on their faces. Many were accompanied by attendants, and with the chore boys of the Debau Company darting among them taking orders, it was much more congested than necessary. From what Col could hear from the chatter, it sounded like they had come to make various requests. “The seasons are about to change, so perhaps everyone is here for their expenses.” There were people from nearby villages who had come to borrow money to replenish the stock used up during the winter and others from craftsmen associations who wanted to have their purchasing allowance increased. There were also merchants who had traveled a long distance from faraway lands on trading vessels and came offering souvenirs. Winter had long finished by this time of year in the south, and time was now moving again. The northern towns and villages, where ports and roads would freeze over during the winter, needed to fill their emptied storehouses, too, and prepare for festivals while getting ready to plant seeds for spring. The seasons changed for everybody, but that did not mean goods were distributed evenly. And so people gathered at large companies like this in the hopes of gaining even a slight advantage. “Is everyone here to see him? Such an important person came out to meet you, Brother.” “Have you reconsidered your opinion of him?” “Yeah. I was just thinking how Mother and Father helped out in such an amazing place.” Myuri smiled at him, and he smiled in return. Several moments later, she said happily, “Don’t be so pouty, Brother.” In between the exchanges, Col had caught hold of a boy and explained their business. Typically they would wait their turn, but no matter how he figured, nobody was going in order. A group of men, clearly from another country—with cloth wrapped around their heads, gold decorating their necks, and skin darkened from the sun—had just come from the back when they were called into the office. Was it money? Authority? Importance? God would not punish Col if he used Hyland’s influence, as well as Lawrence and Holo’s connections. The helper boy wove through the crowd and entered the office, and he returned before long. “Everyone came rather suddenly, so they will be processing the large volume of requests now.” He could not blame them. It was due to all this commotion. “Then we shall gather people and tools.” The priest-in-training declared his intentions before continuing on. “Shall we handle the payments?” “We will take care of all your expenses, Sir Col.” “You have my thanks,” Col replied, then signaled to Myuri with his eyes and left the packed building. It was just as clamorous outside, but without a roof, the supply of air seemed infinite. “Wow, Brother, did you hear that?” Once outside, that was the first thing Myuri said. “They said they’ll foot the bill. So you don’t need to worry about your savings.” “We are not going shopping for food.” “Aw, why?” “Footing the bill is a sign of respect. We should act in a way that is deserving of that respect. If we constantly demand payment for street food, what do you expect they’ll think of us?” “Um…That we’re hungry…” “…” He sensed something like a headache coming on and simply walked forward for the moment. “Moderation is not simply cutting down on amounts. It is a moral duty to control yourself so that you are not steered by your whims—what you want to eat, drink, or buy,” he said. He also suddenly hit upon the difference between moderation and stinginess. “And so being a miser is not regulating yourself, but being especially absorbed in gaining any sort of thing—in this case, coin. Do you understand?” He heard once that sermons were meant for the enlightenment of oneself as well as the people, but this was the first time he saw how firsthand. “Kind of, I think…” Myuri caught up to his side and seemed even more displeased. “So you can’t gain anything from moderation, right? So why do it?” “Ah.” This was not one of the questions she asked knowing it would catch him off-balance. He knew immediately when she was simply expressing doubt. Yet her very straightforward query had incredible depth to it. Why? For what reason? Legitimate-sounding responses reached the tip of his tongue, but they all felt wrong. As he walked deep in thought, a wagon nearly ran him over. The one who grabbed his sleeve and used all her weight to pull him back was none other than Myuri. “Brother, you dummy!” “I’m sorry.” However, he was not apologizing about the cart. He was sorry for his inability to answer her simple question. The importance of moderation was, of course, promoted in the scripture, as well as taught as a virtue, but many things that were considered good were not written there. When he considered why temperance was right, he got the sense that a reason did not exist. If it did, then there was only one. “Because, perhaps, it just seems like it’s the right thing to do.” Myuri regarded him with a dubious expression. “I’m sure some people cannot stand it, but even they most likely understand the goodness of moderation itself.” “…” He asked himself again, ignoring Myuri as her dubious expression shifted to a worried one. Perhaps it was wrong to simply pursue an idea on the basis that it was a given. He had a feeling there was an ancient philosopher who had proclaimed that goodness was defined as what was natural. “However, if that were the case, what would become of vowing abstinence…?” A marriage was cause for celebration, but priests encouraged suppression of the natural desire that came with it. Was being free of want natural? Who would agree that abstinence was natural? “Hmm…” When one questions all that they have accepted as normal, they may find once unthinkable things lying in wait on the path ahead of them. As he stood in the street, pondering, someone pulled on his sleeve. There was Myuri, looking ready to cry. “Brother…I won’t be so selfish anymore, so please forgive me…” “What?” he replied, and she frantically clung to him. He did not know what she had been saying to him, but she seemed to think the way he had stopped and stood still was a reaction to her desire to shop for food. He looked down at Myuri holding him, and a thought flickered across his mind. Maybe next time she would grab his hand. “Oh, I was just thinking too much,” he said and placed his hand on Myuri’s head, ruffling her hair to calm her down. But due to her unexpected question, his mind ran in circles like a bird that could not find a tree to land on. Despite his restless, vague discomfort, he was a bit excited to see where the bird would go. The town was divided into districts with the square in the center, so anyone who became lost could simply find the bell tower that was visible from anywhere and head to the plaza. The layout was impressively logical. Col walked, Myuri was in tow and no longer appealing for food, and they made their way toward the craftsmen’s district. Appropriate for the port town that Atiph was, there were a great many woodworking studios. And under the eaves of a workshop that cut and whittled, thick black tree resin was being brushed onto lumber. Col thought that Myuri, who had hidden in a barrel meant for that resin, would frown at the familiar smell, but she watched the work intensely. “So that’s how they use it.” “They apparently use it for waterproofing and to protect against mold. When trading vessels go to distant lands, or ships go off to war, they use it for packaging meat so it doesn’t go bad.” “Huh. It has a smoky scent, so maybe it would taste good.” I see, it depends on your perspective, he thought. They continued farther down before arriving at an area that worked with furs. In the open-air first-floor workshops, there were artisans working on each stage of tanning the hides and crafting leather cord. There was a neat line of warm-looking ermine furs, and he wondered which nobles would buy them. As they continued, they arrived at a shop that had a giant cow hide hanging on the wall facing the street, which the owner must have been using in place of a sign. “Is that what they used for the map?” Myuri sniffed the hide, and a man fiddling with the handle of a razor in the workshop noticed them. “Do you need somethin’?” Myuri whispered to Col, “We could probably sell his fur,” and he had to suppress his smile. The fellow was indeed a hairy craftsman, big both sideways and lengthways, a complete bear of a man. “You don’t often see a young priest and an errand boy from the Debau Company together. Are you looking for something to write on?” Col jabbed the mischievous Myuri in the head and cleared his throat before speaking. “I need scrap paper, ink, parchment, and talc.” He would grate the talc and then rub it into the uneven parchment in order to flatten it. “All right, leave it to me!…is what I want to say, but we just got a large order for parchment yesterday, so we’re in the middle of making more now.” The crafts-bear shrugged his shoulders, reached out to the parchment on the worktable, and waved it. “I need to make five sheets out of this. Your average craftsman can get about three, though.” He casually boasted about his skill, but five sheets was rather impressive. Parchment was made from the hide of animals, so unlike paper made from old rags, how thinly it could be cut depended on the maker’s skill. “Are other workshops also busy with similar orders?” Col asked, and the crafts-bear stared at him blankly before bursting out into laughter. “You must be from a big city. The only ones that deal in parchment and stationery around here are our workshop and our group. This ain’t the kind of town with thousands of notaries constantly ordering parchment.” “I see…” If so, then what happened? He groaned, and the crafts-bear seemed to have suddenly realized something. “Wait, now that you mention it, that order from yesterday was supposed to be delivered to the Debau Company.” “What?” “Yeah, that’s right. Now I remember. A whole troupe of nicely dressed folk came and asked for all the paper we had…I was so happy we sold out of parchment that I forgot.” At the news that a well-dressed group had asked for all the paper they had to be delivered to the Debau Company, Col could only think of one possibility. As it crossed his mind, a thin old man with a white beard, the exact opposite of the bearlike craftsman, appeared from inside the shop. “Oh, customers, I see.” “Oh, Old Boss, who was it that made that big order yesterday?” “Ah? Your brain can only ever think about how fine you can slice leather, eh? You’ll never be able to do business like that. The request was from a noble from the Kingdom of Winfiel.” So it was Hyland. “Really? What’s an island noble doing here?” “Geez…Haven’t I told you to go show up at association meetings? Their kingdom and the Church are in a dispute over tithes, remember? The kingdom thinks those taxes are absurd, and that nobleman is their spokesman. He’s come to convince Atiph’s Church that they should work together. And it appears he wants to make nice with the townspeople first, so he’s having meetings with every association. That’s where I’ve been all morning.” “Oh. Huh…” The crafts-bear was clearly not interested, as he was glancing down at his razor. Watching them, Col empathized more with the old bearded man. “Huh? Is that all you have to say? Idiot. If that nobleman succeeds, we won’t have to pay taxes to the Church anymore.” “Oh, that’d be great. They always say the pope’s feasts are extravagant. It would be nice if we didn’t have to pay for their luxuries.” It was a coarse way of saying it, but what the crafts-bear said was likely exactly how the townspeople felt. “But what does that have to do with the order?” As he stroked the blade of the razor, the old bearded man thumped him on the head without hesitation. There was a solid thud. Then, the old man turned to face them, squinting as if they were shining bright. “If you’ve brought along a boy from the Debau Company, does that mean you’ve come to help that nobleman?” “Ah, yes.” “My, I’ve known about the kingdom for a long time, but today I learned so much at the meeting. Especially that Heir Hyland is such a wonderful person. He dreams up ideas I could never imagine,” the old man said. He shook Col’s hand and took the opportunity to grasp Myuri’s hand as well, bowing deeply. “Us lowly people honestly never thought either side, whether the Church or the kingdom, had anything to do with us. But I never imagined that the scripture would be translated into the common language nor that we would be asked to look directly upon the words of God! Oh, what a wonderful thing this is.” As the old man spoke, he began to choke up. “Pardon me…At any rate, though we’ve had enough of the pope and the Church’s luxury and lack of restraint, we’re not in a place to fight back. This is a port town. Only God knows if there will be an accident at sea. If we were ordered to cease all religious activities, the root of life in this town would wither away. Ordinary courage is not enough to send ships into the pitch-black sea to be ravaged by the cold winds of winter. And accidents never stop. If you live in this town, you will most certainly have someone who works with the sea in your family.” After negotiations with the cathedra in Lenos failed, there was more than enough reason to switch over to Atiph instead. The locals bestowed upon ships the name of saints and carved images of the Holy Mother or icons of angels onto the bows for protection on their voyages. Anyone who saw the haul of cod and herring caught in the port could understand they had a great number of fishermen. In addition, this was not like the warm, mild seaside towns in the southlands. Beyond this town was a frigid, gray sea, where there was no chance of survival for people who fell off a boat. “It is truly an honor for us to assist directly. As you can see, I’m already so old, and this bear can only be relied upon for his skills.” Apparently, everyone looked at the craftsman and saw a bear. Myuri lowered her head, trying to suppress her laugh. “We’ve got scribe friends that we’ve already talked to, so leave the copies to us. As soon as you make progress on your translation, we’ll make more and more of them, and we’ll let everyone know how ridiculous the Church is!” This old man and the townspeople had no reason to doubt the protection of God. They were simply dissatisfied with the corrupt practices of the Church’s inner circle, who were God’s representative on earth. Col once again recognized that what the Kingdom of Winfiel was doing was not barbaric, but necessary. The world he believed in lay just beyond this. God’s true teachings were what Hyland was aiming for. “Let us work hard together,” he said, gripping the old man’s hand in return. “Myuri, have you now come to understand how amazing Heir Hyland is?” He posed his question to Myuri on their way back from the workshop, and she nodded, albeit reluctantly. For the rest of the day, they walked around town for a little bit. They spent some time looking at the city walls under construction and the gray sea from a hill before returning to the trading house. That night, they were invited to a dinner that Stefan presided over with Hyland as the guest of honor, and they discussed things that were neither good nor bad. However, as Col watched the goings-on at the supper, he sensed something other than flattery in Stefan’s courteousness toward Hyland. “Perhaps. Speaking to the townspeople, everyone seemed surprised that I was staying in the Debau Company trading house. Sir Stefan, the master of the house, apparently shares a hometown with the pope, you see, and has a deep connection through sending them goods. It’s unbelievable that he would accommodate one who would oppose the Church such as myself. Sir Stefan has reluctantly let me stay because management told him to. Merchants like him are more concerned about the profits before them than righteousness. Even in the absence of tithes, if the Church were to lose its funds, then the number of business transactions would decrease accordingly, and that is as far as his thoughts take him.” After supper, Hyland called the pair to his room. Col was more concerned during supper about keeping a smile on his face, so he did not clearly remember what he ate. Myuri had brazenly stuffed herself with food, and at first was reluctant to go, saying she could not move, but when she learned there would be candy, she came along shamelessly. “So the Debau Company is not a monolith, after all,” said Col. “Such a big company is the same as a country. It would be impossible to unite them in consensus, to say nothing of their status as merchants. They go round and round more than weather vanes on the roof.” Lawrence, whom he always greatly respected, was a former merchant, so Col simply let it go with a smile. “However, when I went to the craftsmen’s workshop to arrange for the paper, I listened to their story and was convinced. The ceasing of all religious activities really is wrong.” “I was surprised, too, talking to all the associations in town, since their responses were so much different from those in Lenos. It was as though I’d become a savior.” Hyland spoke with a coarse voice and a smile, bringing wine to his lips. “Though this was originally pagan land, this is a town founded when those from the south came by boat and settled here. They fear the world outside their walls. They believe there are monsters hidden in the depths of the sea and that there is nothing that humanity can do about it. There is a stronger appreciation for God here compared to other places. That being said…” Hyland affectionately crinkled his eyes, resting his chin in his hand and setting his arm on the armrest of the chair as he watched Myuri. She showed no interest in the teachings of God as she cradled a tray of dried sugared apples and munched on them. The plethora of sugared fruits was available because of the many rich people who needed to divert themselves from the boredom on long sea journeys. “Most people act for material gain. They cannot stand having to pay taxes.” Hyland playfully eyed Myuri, who had tagged along when she heard there would be candy. “You saw the city walls under construction, yes? And the impressive paved road from the port.” “It’s a wonderful town.” “To be more precise, it is currently struggling to become a wonderful town. They are suffocating under the tax that has been levied on them. For all the activity it sees, this town is not very rich.” There was likely information from the Debau Company about that. “In addition, the cathedra in this town has a short history and low standing within the Church. More importantly, the archbishop here has never been placed in the church of a town with a good economy.” The smiles of those in high ranks were sometimes terribly cold-blooded. “He rises and thinks that all the money that comes through the Church is for himself. And yet, the townspeople all say that he is a hard worker.” Greedy yet fervent in his work for the Church—the two did not connect in Col’s head. Hyland looked at him and chuckled. “Col, you should look beyond the world of books, too.” “…I’m sorry.” “What I mean is that a longsword has its advantages, but you cannot use it like short sword.” Hyland poured more wine into the cup and spoke. “I’m sure he cannot tell the difference between the church and his home. So though he is wholly committed to his sacred work for himself, on the other hand, he considers the church his own and lives so deep in selfishness. It’s likely that he does not even see it as selfishness. But from the outside, it’s clear. They say the most affluent woman in this town is the archbishop’s wife, after all.” “That’s…” “Of course, she’s not his official wife, but everyone knows it. That being said…” Hyland shrugged. “There is no honor in attacks against me as an illegitimate child.” It was not uncommon for nobles and royalty to reach out to women who were not their wives, and the similar activities of priests who vowed to stay single were an open secret. That was how it was. “However, the archbishop here has not quite managed to do it successfully. My father was forced to marry the pope’s niece or something like that, but the people saw true love between him and my mother. And even from my perspective, he is quite charming.” Hyland’s words hinted at something, but Col understood what he wanted to say. “On the other hand, because the archbishop is so dedicated to his work, he often becomes overbearing. It is necessary that he be used to wielding power, but it seems he does not understand. He is strict with the sins of capriciousness and adultery, but the people wonder what right he has to say such things considering his own actions. When he preaches of moderation, one can only listen with a smile.” The bear of a craftsman had also said that the suppers at the church were always extravagant. “And yet they recognize the passion for his work when he cries for someone’s passing, cries in the joy of a wedding, cries at birth. That is why the people wish to do something about these twisted feelings they have for the Church. The clergy are worryingly two-faced: They live in licentiousness with the money gained from the heavy taxes on the people, yet they are reliable when it comes to their holy work.” “It is not that the people don’t want to respect them.” “Or rather, to borrow the words of God, they want to love them. Well, perhaps ‘esteem’ might be better.” Hyland smiled. Once the water of faith flowed properly, the world would become clearer. “That is why the Our Book of God plan is so well received among the people. Some are already pestering me to show them any part that has been finished.” “When I went to the workshop to prepare paper and ink, the boss there was cheering me on.” Hyland smiled and gave a signal to his chamberlain waiting in the corner of the room. Then, a young man around the same age as Col, with the airs of a civil servant about him, handed him a bundle of parchments. “My father agreed with this plan from very early on and is in the process of gathering all the idle priests throughout the country. For the most part, in the name of lecturing on God’s teachings. They cannot eat if they do not work, and they have a favorable view of my father, so it is going well, it seems. However, those living in their ivory towers have some trouble when it comes to the vernacular. They eagerly want to hear the opinions of opposing scholars.” He did not say “sage,” but it still made Col uncomfortable to hear “scholar.” As though he had noticed his feelings, Hyland chuckled. “Col. I, too, recognize humility as a virtue, but you will find that how others around you see you very much depends on who speaks up first.” He was telling him to be proud of himself. “I will devote myself to it.” Hyland smiled in relief. “The translation is going well, and parts from earlier are written on this parchment, but I need you to move it along, too. Once I send it home, it will be a great help to them.” It was awe-inspiring, but this was what it meant to face a grand prospect. Col braced himself and took the parchment. Translating the scripture into the common language would educate the people, and it might be fair to call it one of the battles for correcting the ridiculousness of the Church. When he thought about how this work would be his weapon, his shield, it felt much heavier. “I understand,” he replied with strength, and Hyland smiled, satisfied. “And I expect you to work hard for all the candy the young lady has eaten.” With a kind gaze, Hyland watched Myuri lick the sugar off her fingers over an empty tray. As they all watched her while her finger was in her mouth, even she seemed a bit uncomfortable. “The only ones who have ever done such a thing in my presence are clowns protected by privilege and their daughters.” “I sincerely apologize…Myuri!” Col scolded Myuri, and she ducked with a defiant look. “No, that’s all right. We are sticking our necks into a fight against authority. Authority makes people blind and takes away their ability to think. Not to mention their courage to call out oddities when they see them. I do not lie when I say I expect great things from you. So…can you read?” Myuri stared back blankly at Hyland’s question. “Letters. Not the Church’s script.” “Ah yes, a little,” Col answered for her, and Hyland rejoiced. “I see. Then, I’m sure this is quite boring for young ladies like you, but I want you to look over the scripture. I’m sure you may perceive some truths that are much beyond us.” Myuri wore an expression of slight pride, but Hyland was likely overestimating her. “Heir Hyland, you say that, but—” Col began to give advice. “It’s not flattery. I feel something about her. The mistress of the bathhouse I stayed in was the same…Perhaps she’s from some sort of distinguished house?” He was startled when he heard Hyland’s speculation. If Holo and Myuri’s bloodline were to be called a distinguished house, then it would quite literally be something beyond human comprehension. Including supernatural beings in the establishing tales of a family line was done by only the highest of the many high-status royal families in the world. “See, Brother? People that know, know.” However, Myuri had puffed out her chest, unaware of his worry. There was no hint of humility. “Ha-ha-ha. This young lady here understands how the world works.” Had her tail been out, it would have been swishing right about then. “Don’t take it at face value,” he warned her, but she did not show any sign of responding. “Well, I won’t investigate. It is in the scripture, too.” Hidden things would someday be let loose. He could not tell if it was a good thing at this point in time. “And I have confidence in you.” He heard Hyland as someone who stood above others, taming his vassals. It was not that he held any contempt for Hyland himself, as he was a noble, but if he did not warn himself that he and Myuri were different, they would be swallowed whole. Hyland was an enchanting person, and it would be wonderful if he could become a priest with his own cathedra under the man’s dominion. However, he wanted to cooperate as much as possible without self-interest. At stake was something far greater than the profits of any individual. “To the first step of righting the world.” Hyland cheered and raised high a glass of wine.
Chapter 6
35 min read