novelraw Chapter 60 : Archbishop (6)
Chapter 60 : Archbishop (6)
Chapter 60: Archbishop (6)
“Even so, I will assign elite hunters. We cannot entrust the Archbishop’s protection to recruits. It would be a disgrace to the Order of the Silver Blades.”
The condemned prisoner politely refused Elena’s intention.
Public perception mattered as well.
There were only three archbishops in the Hall of the City God. Elena certainly knew how absurd it would look to have two rookie hunters guarding one of them.
“Morgana. I said it was fine.”
They both knew, and both pretended not to. Lowering her voice a little, Elena continued.
“It is dangerous. You know there have been ugly rumors around the holy ground lately.”
They said monsters were appearing near the holy ground.
It was unprecedented. The Order of the Sacred Iron Chains had launched a large-scale purge, yet the culprit had not been identified.
“And Nike still needs to rest a while longer. At least Nike should…”
“Morgana.”
Elena folded her arms and cut her off with a chill.
“…Yes.”
“Who am I?”
“You are the Archbishop of the Hall of the City God.”
“Since when did the head of a mere order add a caveat to an archbishop’s words?”
Elena pressed Morgana down with authority. She seemed too uninterested to argue further. She had decided to take Nike from the start, and she would not allow any interference.
“…I am only concerned for your safety, Your Grace.”
“You are overstepping.”
The condemned prisoner gave a flat nod.
An archbishop’s authority was as high as the sky.
She had, after all, just granted Morgana a favor. Since she had asked for Nike, Morgana had no grounds to refuse.
Even if she had grounds, she had no power.
“I apologize.”
In the end, Morgana bowed her head. Before the oppression of authority, even a former witch had no recourse.
Bound to the Sun Cross, Morgana was an outsider and nothing more than Vigo’s proxy.
If a line was to be crossed in protest, it would be Vigo who did it.
“Good. One should know one’s place. If you wish to go on living as a tool.”
Elena lightly stroked the prisoner’s cheek. Then she tapped it twice in an unpleasant way. The prisoner kept a blank face.
“Morgana. Morgana. You vicious witch... How pitiful, to cling to a shameful life. Are you not afraid of the sun’s wrath? Shall I kill you here today?”
“…”
“Answer me. If you understand, answer.”
“…No.”
“No. Say thank you for sparing my life until now. Say you will be in my care from here on.”
Thump.
The condemned prisoner fell to her knees. Bowing her head at Elena’s feet, Morgana begged.
“Thank you for sparing a lowly life such as mine until now. I also ask that you show warmth and mercy so that I may continue to preserve my paltry life.”
Only then did Elena smile with satisfaction. She lifted the prisoner by both shoulders.
“What are you doing? People will misunderstand and think I am a bad person. We depart this afternoon, so send me the two I requested by then.”
“…As you command.”
Elena turned her back.
Morgana spoke to that back.
“Your Grace.”
“…?”
“Are you certain you have truly subdued Nike’s curse?”
“I made a sick child walk. What more explanation do you need?”
The condemned prisoner bowed again.
“No. Thank you, once more.”
“…How distasteful.”
* * *
Grind.
A pale woman bound to the Sun Cross.
Morgana’s true body bled.
It bled because she forced a smile through lips sewn with wire. Blood ran freely from her torn cheek.
She did not care. Pain was familiar.
Worse than the pain in her cheek was the wound to her pride.
‘That bitch…’
Though her limbs were nailed, her eyes removed and covered with a patch, and her mouth held shut, it did not mean she could not feel anger.
A witch was more emotional than anyone.
Even if she was no longer a witch, that nature had not vanished.
Much less could a proud witch of three hundred and twenty-one years suffer such humiliation without feeling anything.
Morgana ground her teeth.
The former witch began to harbor a grudge.
If it had been only her own humiliation, she would not have been this enraged.
The problem was Nike.
‘To try to take Nike from me…’
Unforgivable. Whether for the Order of the Silver Blades or for her own desire, Nike was someone she would never hand over.
‘How dare she.’
She was not the sort to watch with open eyes and let Nike be taken.
If she lost Nike, Vigo would kill her. Her pride would not allow it either.
Creak—
Without a knock, the Captain’s office door opened. The footsteps that entered were anything but courteous.
“Yawn— Captain’s office. Disgusting.”
A gray-haired boy walked in with a sulky face. Morgana had summoned Nike to the Captain’s office.
He did not like being alone with her, and his mood was foul.
“Why did you call me?”
[Nike. Are you well.]
Since Elena had remained at Nike’s side virtually twenty-four hours a day, it had been a very long time since Morgana had faced him.
Morgana was greatly relieved to see him safe. Fortunately, it seemed Elena had not laid hands on his body.
“Hah? I feel great. My mood is the worst though!”
[I am glad.]
Nike seemed unchanged. His odd behavior brought her that much relief. Morgana could feel her mind bound more tightly to him.
‘Elena... You cannot have him. In fact, you would not be able to handle him.’
Her obsession had only grown.
Nike was someone she could never give up.
The only person who could hold him was herself.
[Nike. A mission has come up.]
“Oh! At last!”
[Yes. At last.]
“My body has been itching for work! What is it!”
Nike bounded with excitement.
Even after going through the unbelievable and receiving a curse scheduled to kill him, his spirit had not wilted.
If anything, he treated it like an interesting adventure. Whatever he went through, it was more fun than his days in Sinain.
[It’s a mission to protect Archbishop Elena.]
“Hah…?”
Nike craned his neck and scowled. Archbishop Elena was as unpleasant to him as Morgana was.
When he was with her, he somehow obeyed her words, but that was only because she was a benefactor, and he was tolerating it.
Nike snapped his head away.
“I refuse.”
[Hoho.]
Morgana liked his crisp answer. But there was business and there was private life. Nike had to be sent on the mission.
‘I am not sending him without a cause, Elena.’
Morgana’s black snakes slowly approached Nike. They slithered up his ankles, dropped from the chandelier, and coiled over his shoulders.
“Argh? Again?”
[Nike. Your curse has not vanished. It has only calmed for a time.]
Nike had reached the point of giving up resisting. Morgana would not release him unless she handled him as much as she wished.
“Hah... What a pain.”
He surrendered and let the black snakes have him. He always felt refreshed after they skimmed over his body though.
There was a reason he surrendered himself to them.
Through the snakes, Morgana examined him inch by inch.
The curse engraved on Nike and Elena’s purification.
Every thread of fate tangled inside it.
‘As expected... The Witch of the Sword. To think she hid a razor.’
A witch’s malice always exceeded imagination. Morgana’s true body curled her lips. The wound on her cheek, which had begun to knit, split open again.
The snakes withdrew. Nike cracked his neck.
“Feel great! Thanks!”
[May luck cling to your mission.]
Nike nodded.
While the snakes caressed him, the details of the mission had been delivered directly into his mind.
[Go back, prepare with Hestia, and join the holy pilgrimage procession.]
“Got it!”
Morgana smiled, not caring about the blood that trickled.
[And, Nike.]
“Ah?”
[The holy ground Elena seeks is, as you know, one of the ‘shard’ sites the Witch of the Sword engraved in your mind.]
“…”
Nike’s eyes grew calm. He knew, no matter how he pretended not to.
Just as Bougainvillea had prophesied.
The shards were drawn to the vessel.
The vessel was drawn to the shards.
Nike had no choice but to be swept up in the storm of attraction.
Slither.
One remaining black snake climbed his shoulder. It slipped naturally into his mouth.
“Blegh. Ugh. Ack!”
[It will help you. Nike, return in one piece.]
“Keck. Blegh. Got it…”
Nike rubbed his throat and grimaced, queasy. Even so, as the snake settled inside him, he felt the curse’s twist in his mana ease further.
His movement and breathing became more comfortable as well.
Morgana was insidious, but most of what she did helped Nike.
‘Nike. Do not trust Morgana.’
Nike remembered Elena’s words. It was not an easy problem.
As he turned to go, Morgana left him with a final line.
[Nike. You must not trust Archbishop Elena. She is the woman who will clasp a shackle around your neck.]
Nike shook his head, feeling sick of it at this point.
He could not understand why everyone only said things like that to him.
“I am off!”
* * *
“Oh! How long has it been since I had a mission!”
“…Nike. Why are you this excited.”
Nike was bursting with energy. Hestia could not match his pitch and was repelled.
She was not in the mood to humor him.
‘The Archbishop... She pointed the two of us out, didn’t she.’
Of all things, the mission was guarding the Archbishop. In Hestia’s mind, Nike looked excited because he liked being around the Archbishop.
On top of that, the Archbishop’s intention itself felt extremely unpleasant.
Keeping Nike by her side was one thing.
But specifically naming Hestia as well and appointing her as a guard was vicious.
It was a plan to provoke jealousy openly.
‘...She is insane.’
It was not the sort of thing a person in the Archbishop’s position should do. Behind the gentle mask, a rotten intention hid.
‘Whatever, it’s better this way.’
It was far better than sending Nike alone and staying behind.
Besides, with her master badly injured, it was a good time to take this assignment.
Hestia decided she ought to take this chance to get a firm hold on Nike.
There were far too many women around him. As one of the few who had trained with him, she had the right to keep troublesome women away from his side.
“…Nike.”
“Ah? Let’s go! Tia!”
“…Why are you so excited? Because you get to be with the Archbishop?”
“No?”
“…Then why?”
“Just because!”
“…Nike. You are infuriating.”
Hestia brushed past him. Her stride was icy. Nike scratched his head as he watched her back.
“Tia. Did something bad happen?”
“…Just hurry up!”
At the entrance to Vilnogos, the Hall of the City God’s procession lined up. It was a sight like a heavenly march.
Reverent and auspicious.
The golden wave magnified the faith of all who beheld it.
At its head stood Nike and Hestia.
For all their grumbling, this was an honor an ordinary hunter would never experience. Hestia was a little tense.
“This is boring. When do we leave.”
“Ahaha. Nike. Be patient. We cannot leave until we receive God’s blessing.”
“A blessing?”
Elena smiled at him from horseback. All of his questions were adorable to her.
“Look there. The Sun Cross.”
“I see it.”
Nike stared at the Sun Cross she indicated. It was a great holy relic forged of silver.
From it flowed holy power that would watch over the Hall of the City God’s march.
Elena was waiting for the moment when that holy power filled the Sun Cross to the brim.
“The opal is set at the center of the Sun Cross. When the sunlight settles into that gem, we depart. We call that God’s blessing. It is the power that protects us, who are weak, from evil.”
“Yawn.”
Nike only yawned as if disinterested. Elena kept her smile, a little embarrassed.
Time passed, and at last sunlight fell across the Sun Cross.
It should have been the moment when the opal, filled with light, began to shine.
“Aaah!”
“W-What is that!”
“O God— what blasphemy is this!”
“Your Grace! Your Grace!”
Elena’s face hardened fiercely.
The faithful stared at the relic in shock. Some fell to their knees and prayed. Some went into fits.
“That is…”
Elena could not finish.
The gem that should have shone brightly in the Sun Cross had turned black.