Season 2 Chapter 709
Translator: Alpha0210
Schweiser soon forced himself to look at it in a positive light.
The man had drunk about half his wine, so maybe he was just talking like a drunk...... It was strange that so little would get anyone drunk, but perhaps he was a spectacularly poor drinker. His complexion didn't look the least bit flushed, though plenty of people seemed fine on the outside while being completely gone on the inside. Or maybe he simply had a habit of spouting nonsense whether he'd been drinking or not.
Rebuttals to that hole-riddled reasoning presented themselves in real time, but Schweiser forcibly ignored them. Not that doing so made the conclusion that this man wasn't right in the head go away...... and the fact that he would have to travel alongside such a fellow from here on, and that the permission for it had come from none other than Lukas, set his head throbbing all over again.
Of course, thoughts were only thoughts, and he let none of it show.
Even so, it was true that he'd run out of things to say, and while he kept his mouth shut, this time it was Residue who spoke first.
"Care for a drink?"
"...No."
"Why?"
"No reason. I don't want to drink in the morning. I don't much like it in the first place."
"I see."
Residue smirked and tipped the rest of his drink down his throat.
Lukas took in the entire exchange without saying a word.
*
With about thirty minutes to spare before noon, the party set out from the inn.
It was a large city, but the temple wasn't far from the inn. If anything it was close enough to be seen from a second-floor window. Ten minutes at a leisurely walk, and far quicker with magic, yet they had gone out of their way to leave early.
Morning in Sarman was hushed and still, enough to make it feel like an entirely different place from the one where the night market had sprawled. The near-total absence of people on the streets played no small part in that impression.
"All those crowds, and now not a single soul."
Iris murmured it, and Schweiser answered.
"This is a warriors' city too, so most of the young ones will have gone out hunting."
"Hunting...? In this weather?"
Iris looked up at the blazing sun, then lowered her head again with nothing to show for it but a frown.
"The Desert Folk's skin endures heat far better than ours. They can probably stay active for an hour even under this sun."
"Can anyone actually hunt in a single hour?"
"They know the precise location of every oasis nearby, every boulder or cactus large enough to throw shade. They have to work in stretches of an hour at most and rest in between, but monster carcasses fetch a high price out here. It's worth that much."
"Hmm. You really do know all the useless things, don't you."
"...Right. I'm the idiot for explaining it so kindly."
Schweiser said it and glanced to the side.
Lucid, whose thoughts were never readable to begin with, was one thing, but today even Lukas had gone noticeably quiet. At first Schweiser had assumed he was simply tired, but the look on his face suggested otherwise.
He had the air of a man with a great deal on his mind. It wasn't the sort of atmosphere in which one could idly ask, so Schweiser was letting it pass.......
'And... he's behaving himself, surprisingly.'
This, of course, referred to Residue.
The swaggering hadn't changed, but at least he wasn't running his mouth, just following along quietly. The way he clung stubbornly to the very back of the group was strangely unsettling, and grating, but... on the other hand, Residue walking abreast of the party, or out ahead of it, would have been far stranger.
"Residue."
Schweiser drew up beside Residue once more.
"What is it?"
"Could you do something about the way you talk? No. With me it doesn't matter, but be a little careful in front of that slab of muscle we saw earlier."
"Why should this one bother?"
"Did you not see what he's like? The man's a bull, and reasoning with him doesn't work. If something bothers him he smashes it first and thinks later... and right now, you're what bothers him."
He said it seriously enough, but Residue didn't look like he was taking any of it in.
"You'd feel pretty hard done by if you ended up crippled over nothing but your manner of speech. I don't dislike you all that much, but there's a limit to how much I can step in and smooth things over."
That last part was a bit of a lie.
Going by the impression he'd made so far, if Schweiser had to pick a side, Residue fell squarely into the unlikable column.
Only then did Residue speak.
"If he tries to come at me, Lukas will stop him."
"......."
Schweiser shut his mouth.
He was right; Lukas wouldn't stand by and watch that happen. Whenever a quarrel broke out among the party, it was always Lukas who intervened.
Even so, a war of nerves within the party would do nothing but wear everyone down. Schweiser knew that heading off a bad situation before it started was the best course, and he had hoped Residue would understand that as well.
Having the attempt come to nothing did not put him in a good mood. On top of that, the sight of a man leaning on Lukas rather than thinking to handle things himself hardly made a favorable impression.
Schweiser's mood soured, and he didn't speak to him again.
After that they walked on with barely a word exchanged, and before long they arrived at the temple.
Up close the scale of it was far greater than expected – and, just as Lukas had said, the security was severe. Schweiser noted something else besides. Among those standing watch, a good many had concealed themselves from sight.
'That's the sort of thing men with something to hide do.'
And this blatantly, no less. Now he understood why Lukas had told them to prepare themselves.
With the feeling that a fight was probably unavoidable, he took in the sight of Kasajin standing before the temple. The man was drenched again, and the only difference from that morning was that this time it was all sweat.
"The smell."
Iris recoiled without bothering to hide it.
"Why are you covered in sweat?"
"Went for a run. Sorry, but rinse me off, would you."
Certainly, trying to walk into a temple in that state would have gotten him thrown out for entirely different reasons.
Schweiser snapped his fingers, and a huge droplet of water formed in midair. With a heavy slosh, the droplet dropped and rinsed Kasajin's whole body clean.
"That won't have taken all the smell out, but it'll do for now."
"Good enough."
Good enough for you, maybe. Not for us. Schweiser would have liked to dump a few more bucketfuls over him if there had been time, but he held himself back.
Just then someone who had been standing near the temple came over.
He was one of the guards, and a closer look showed a man with a well-trained body. Most likely a desert warrior of the faith.
"Pardon me. What business brings you to Rock-Nox Temple?"
Rock was a title appended when worshipping the god. Knox would be short for Noxstantine.
Spelled out, it meant "for the god Noxstantine". Schweiser parsed the words for himself and nodded, and Lucid took a step forward.
"Lucid, of 'Icallium'."
"Ah......! Sir Lucid, the Sword Duke. It is an honor to meet you."
A flush of emotion crossed the guard's face, while Lucid's expression, by contrast, turned faintly uncomfortable. He apparently still hadn't grown accustomed to the name Sword Duke, the duke of blades.
Even so, among the party it was Lucid, alongside Lukas, who commanded the greatest renown on the continent. His was a name that could win goodwill easily wherever they went.
Though in the Amakan Desert, of course, the most popular one among them was someone else entirely.
"Might the Warrior King be traveling with you as well?"
"If you mean Kasajin, he is over there."
"Ah! I knew it... I thought that was no ordinary bearing."
The warrior gazed at Kasajin with respect in his eyes.
It was the sort of look that said no words needed to be exchanged, that simply beholding him was enough.
"And......"
When that gaze turned to Iris, it went cold beyond any comparison with a moment before. That Lukas Trouman traveled in the company of a witch was already famous. It was known, too, that the Black Witch, Iris Peacefinder, had contributed a great deal to the peace of the continent.
But as a man of faith, he could not think kindly of a witch who had made a pact with demons.
Iris was so thoroughly accustomed to such looks that her expression barely shifted.
"...You are sincerely welcome to Rock-Nox Temple. Please follow me. The 'Oesst' is expecting you."
As they followed the guard, Kasajin edged closer and asked.
"What's an Oesst."
"It's an ancient word combining 'desert' and 'oasis'. A high priest of the Noxstantine Faith, and as far as I know there aren't twenty of them in the whole –"
"So what is it."
"...Think of him as the head of this temple."
"I see."
The interior of the temple was opulent.
The building caught the sunlight and glittered brilliantly, as though the whole of it had been dusted with gold. Surely no one had indulged in extravagance on that scale in truth, so it must have been built from some special material.
They passed through the entrance of the great central sanctuary, went by the chapel, and arrived at a reception room.
Word must have been sent ahead, because the Oesst was already there.
"Welcome to Rock-Nox. It is an honor to receive the Grand Sorcerer and his celebrated companions."
The Oesst wore broad, voluminous clerical robes that hid not only his build but his face as well, since he had something like a hood pulled low over his head. It was the dress of a Noxstantine cleric. Still, his voice made clear that he was a young man, and the owner of a remarkably pleasant one at that.
Lukas clasped the hand held out to him.
"Lukas Trouman."
"I am called 'Jore'."
"Thank you for making time for us in the middle of a busy festival."
"Haha. Not at all."
An unusual name. It didn't seem to follow the conventions of the Amakan Desert. The skin glimpsed past the robes was white as alabaster. That pale, he couldn't even be taken for mixed blood.
'Which means he isn't from the desert.'
For such a person to have risen to the seat of a high priest in the Noxstantine Faith was certainly no ordinary feat.
...Thinking of it in the usual way, that was as far as it went.
Schweiser thought about it a little more deeply.
An outsider who had seized a high priest's seat in the Noxstantine Faith, whose age, judging by voice and skin, was no more than thirty. Which meant he was absurdly young for the position.
'What if he's a Demigod?'
The odds of that were fairly high.
Everyone but Kasajin had probably caught on to that much. They had already walked into the enemy's jaws on their own two feet.
A tension utterly at odds with the peaceful scenery of the temple came creeping over him.
'...We're still all right for now. He may have heard of the Grand Sorcerer's party, but he can't know we've been digging into the Demigods.'
There were a handful of things they had managed to learn about them.
The number of Demigods was not known for certain, but the creatures were absurdly independent. They kept no regular contact with one another, nor was any structure in place for it. Even if, say, the party miraculously brought one Demigod down, the rest would not join forces and come at them in an all-out assault.
If there was one thing to be uneasy about, it was the possibility that the monster which had attacked them in the ruins a few days ago was a subordinate of the Demigod in this temple – and having spent the last several days safely, even that likelihood had fallen.
Because if it had been so, the Demigod ought to have made its move long ago, while they were staying in Sarman.
...Of course, there was a hole in that logic. Namely, that a Demigod's way of thinking could not be interpreted through a human lens in the first place.
There was every chance it knew perfectly well and was deliberately refraining from moving.
"Would 'Oesst Jore' be an appropriate way to address you?"
"Whatever is comfortable for you, Mr. Trouman."
"Lukas will do."
"An honor, Lukas."
Their clasped hands drew apart.
"But what business brings you to the temple? I hear that the renowned Grand Sorcerer and his companions resolve all manner of incidents across the continent......"
A trace of concern entered Jore's voice.
"Has some trouble arisen here, by any chance?"
"That is what I would like to determine. Forgive me, Oesst Jore, but might we search this temple, Rock-Nox?"
"The temple?"
"Yes. I would like to go over all of it, if possible, leaving nothing out."
"Hmm......"
Jore let out a low sound of deliberation, then asked again.
"May I ask what has prompted this?"
"I'm sorry, but until it is confirmed I can tell you nothing."
"Haha....... You wish to look through the temple without stating your purpose. That does put me in an awkward position."
'If it were anyone but you lot, I'd have thrown you out long ago.'
It was as though those unspoken words followed right behind.
Lukas bowed his head.
"I know it is a discourteous request. But I swear no harm will come to the temple or the city. On my honor, and the honor of my friends."
Lukas regarded renown as unnecessary and cumbersome in most circumstances, but moments like this were the one time it was of any use.
Sufficient renown could command respect even before royalty, nobles, men of wealth, or clergy such as this.
Jore weighed it for a moment, made a low sound in his throat, and soon nodded.
"...Very well. But it is our temple's Warrior Chief who will guide you. Please try not to stray from him."
"Understood."
"The Warrior Chief is the finest warrior of this temple. I trust you understand why I would put him forward as your guide."
A warning not to try anything, then.
Guide and watchdog both; that much had been expected. If anything, permission had come so easily that it left an uneasy taste....... Lukas had prepared several bargaining chips in order to force his way through the temple if need be, and he hadn't had the chance to use a single one.
"That is only a natural precaution."
"Good. Then I shall summon the Warrior Chief at once."
What was Jore truly after?
Was he a decent cleric who had genuinely trusted their reputation and entrusted them with a search of the temple? Or a lackey of the Demigod that had taken the temple in hand?
If the former, nothing at all would happen in this temple.
But if the latter, this was the same as flinging themselves down the gullet of an enemy whose jaws hung wide open.
"Hold on."
Just then Residue opened his mouth.
"Where's the lavatory around here?"
At that, Jore's gaze turned toward Residue as well.
"And this gentleman?"
"Ah... a companion of ours."
"A companion......"
Jore murmured it in a puzzled voice and swept his eyes over the party.
From the look of him, he was plainly counting heads.
It was true that the Grand Sorcerer's party was publicly known to number five in all. And Residue looked far too much like Lukas. He was more than enough to invite curiosity in several senses.
Fortunately, however, Jore didn't probe any deeper.
"The lavatory is straight along to the right."
"Right, then straight on. Understood."
"......."
Residue turned on his heel and departed, and the rest of them shook their heads.
To think he would carry that arrogance even into a formal setting like this. Schweiser, who had hoped for even a slight improvement in the man's manner, felt like putting a hand to his forehead.
Residue breezed off, and belatedly Lukas bowed his head.
"I apologize on my companion's behalf for his rudeness. I have tried to correct it any number of times, but a man's nature does not change easily......."
"...Ha, haha. Not at all. He is a distinctive sort. Well. In any case, the lavatory is a fair distance off, so would you care to sit and wait a while? When your companion returns, I shall guide you through myself."
"Thank you for your consideration."
With Lukas's assent, they were moved to a guest room.
Stepping into the room, Schweiser caught sight of something on the table and whistled.
"Cookies."
"The least desert-appropriate refreshment there is."
"And to drink... wine."
It was Iris who tried the wine and cookies first. Surprisingly, she was the one with the strongest resistance to poison. On top of which, she possessed the most sensitive palate among them.
Iris took a small mouthful of wine and rolled it slowly across her tongue, then chewed a cookie with a careful expression.
Then she nodded slowly.
"Both are safe."
The moment the go-ahead came, Kasajin seized a fistful of cookies and shoved them into his mouth. The rest only sipped a little wine to ease their thirst.
"Don't let your guard down."
Lukas said only as much as would raise no suspicion even if someone happened to be watching.
Perhaps because of that, little conversation passed in the guest room. They each spent the time in their own way – and when about twenty minutes had gone by, Schweiser muttered.
"He can't have gotten lost, so the temple must really be enormous."
He was talking about Residue, of course.
In any case, what they'd seen of the temple truly was vast, so the party nodded along in vague agreement.
When another ten minutes or so had passed, Lucid added.
"He may be experiencing some irregularity in the matter of his bowel movements."
At this perfectly serious remark, Schweiser and Kasajin burst out laughing at the same instant, and even Lukas let out a snort.
But when a further twenty minutes went by, and roughly an hour had elapsed in all, the party fell silent.
He was late. Far too late.
Lukas spoke.
"Iris."
"Yes. One moment."
Iris knitted her brow.
Owing to the conversation she'd had with Lukas some time ago, she had set several demons on Residue. She had chosen the stealthiest of them, the ones whose presence was faintest, so Residue wouldn't have dreamed of it.
She couldn't pinpoint his location in any detail, but at least she could tell what state he was in right now –
"Ah."
Iris's expression stiffened slightly.
Then, meeting the gazes now fixed upon her, she said,
"I can't sense them."
"What does that mean?"
"The connection has been severed."
*****
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