“That bishop’s our only other lead, eh?” Ebel looked up at the ceiling.
The boy was lying on a bed in the guest room on the floor directly above them.
He still hadn’t woken up after being brought inside Mateus Manor.
Rock was afraid her punch had given him a fatal head injury, but her father and the rest laughed at her. She hadn’t hit him hard enough for that.
“I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but he doesn’t look like anything other than a small child to me.” Guido even doubted the fact the boy was the cult’s bishop. “Did he really lead the Brotherhood?”
“Yes, no doubt about it,” Lauretta assured him. She dug through her memories under the watchful and caring eyes of her husband. “He was definitely a young boy. He was short and skinny, with an innocent voice… But he always sounded confident when he spoke of the Brotherhood’s precepts, almost like he knew everything.”
That matched up with Rock’s impression of him as well.
Although he spoke like a child, he didn’t falter or trip over his words spoken as the cult’s bishop. Not only did he not hesitate, but he didn’t even pause to think about what he was saying. He acted as if there was some adult whispering exactly what to say to him.
“If that’s true, then he’s our biggest lead—”
There was a knock at the door just as Ebel took an interest in what Lauretta had said about the boy. Johanna poked her head into the room.
“Your Excellency, I have a message for you from Master Phoebe. The boy is awake.”
Everyone in the room immediately stood up.
Just Ebel and Rock headed to check on the bishop.
The Alexises still hadn’t recovered mentally yet, and no one knew what would happen when they saw the bishop again. Guido stayed behind, saying, “I’m not confident I won’t tear the brat’s face off.” And Michaela naturally stayed to keep her brother company.
Phoebe was waiting for them outside the room when they arrived.
“…You came?” He greeted them with a nebulous expression that was part wry smile and part frustrated scowl.
“Something happen?” Rock asked in a hushed voice. Her father jabbed his finger toward the door with a heavy sigh.
“See for yourself.”
The three of them entered the room together.
A lantern was lit inside, filling the space with a warm, orange light. The boy bishop was sitting up in bed, but he cowered when he saw them come in.
“Eek!”
He let out a scream of sheer terror.
How can he be so scared after all the suffering he’s put other people through? Rock was fuming on the inside, but Ebel addressed him kindly like the perfect gentleman he was.
“You’ve come to, Bishop? How do you feel?”
Instead of answering, the boy yanked the blanket up and over his head. They could see him shaking like a leaf in the wind underneath.
“Hey! Don’t hide,” Rock snapped, but Phoebe held out his hand to stop her from saying more.
Then he reached out and rubbed the boy’s blanket-covered back.
“Please explain to them what you just told me.”
Prompted by Phoebe, the boy fearfully poked his head out from under the covers.
Tears glistened in his red-brown eyes as he glanced around at the faces of the three people surrounding him.
It was hard to imagine he was the same Bishop. Rock was finally starting to have doubts as she compared this child to the young yet confident cult leader.
“U-Umm…” the boy uttered in a familiar voice. “I honestly…don’t, er, remember much about my time…in the r-ruins…”
“You don’t?!” Rock cried out, causing the boy to shrink back.
“U-Umm, I remember a l-little. I heard a voice the whole t-time and thought I would be safe if I did what it said… I a-also sorta remember being called ‘Bishop.’”
Did that mean even the bishop was being controlled by something too?
If that was true, then no one knew the truth about the mastermind behind everything.
“Can you tell us what you remember? Any small detail is fine,” Ebel requested, worry clearly showing on his face now that they may’ve lost any leads they had left.
The boy avoided meeting his eyes and said nothing, seeming just as confused.
“What’s your name? How long were you in the ruins for? Do you have a family?”
He seemed incapable of even answering the simplest of questions.
“You really don’t remember anything?” Disappointment took the wind right out of Rock’s sails. “What about when I punched your damn mask…?”
“‘Damn’…?” The boy blinked. Then he suddenly gasped. “Damn…” He repeated that word like using it used to be a familiar habit before he looked up at her with a start. “That’s right! I’m Kurt!”
“Kurt is your name?” Ebel asked, and Kurt nodded several times.
“Uh-huh. I wonder why I forgot even my own name…”
He placed his small hand on his freckled cheek and stared off into space for a long moment. Then he finally began talking a bit at a time.
“I just remembered. I picked up that damn mask while I was working in the fields.”
Kurt started to talk about himself like the dam holding back his memories had begun to overflow. According to him, he was from one of the farming villages scattered outside the imperial capital. He’d lost his parents at an early age and was taken in by the mayor. He earned his keep by working in the fields, but then one day, something strange was unearthed from the fields—the white bishop mask.
Assuming it was an antique from a bygone era, the mayor proudly displayed it in his home like it was a family treasure.
“But I couldn’t stop myself from constantly going to it…” All the color drained from Kurt’s young face. His little hands were whiter than the sheets they clasped. “I think I tried it on out of curiosity. It was like I just had to one day…”
He hung his head, then gave it a hard shake, as if to shake off his fear.
“I don’t remember much after that. The next thing I knew, I was surrounded by lots of people, and there was always this invisible voice giving me instructions. It told me everyone will live in peace and tranquility if we do as it says.”
The mask had likely taken over his mind by that point. Or rather, the curse within the mask had.
“It appears you were being controlled by that mask,” Ebel stated.
Kurt scrunched up his face, not understanding.
“Controlled? How? I don’t really get it…”
“To be honest, we don’t really understand how it works either. But given your actions up until the mask broke and your vague memories, that’s the only explanation,” Ebel flatly presented him with the truth.
And yet, Kurt still struggled to wrap his head around it. Bewildered, he looked at each face of the three adults in the room.
“Did I…do something bad?” he asked.
Rock looked away, unable to answer.
Even Ebel seemed momentarily at a loss for words.
Phoebe, the only one who seemed unfazed by the question, glanced at Rock, sighed, and answered the boy.
“Nah. We just took you out of a bad situation.”
Rock was extremely relieved by his answer.
“Your safety is guaranteed with us. It’s already late, so you can spend the night at ease here. I would like to speak with you a little more tomorrow and then I will send you home,” Ebel assured him in a soft voice, but what he said caused the boy’s face to fall.
“You…will…? All right.”
His dark expression seemed like it was due to something more than exhaustion. But the three adults exited the room without touching on it.