It was still early in the evening, but with the curtains closed, the room had a strange dimness. There was no candlelight, no daylight. It was as if the room was rejecting the light of day.

　Alueno looked around the room he had been invited to and blinked unconsciously.

I'm sorry you had to come here when the saint is not feeling well.

　The head of the room, Vestaline, is sitting on a grand chair with her knees in her lap.

　For Alueno, who had only ever seen her in all her majestic glory, it was rather unusual, and he even felt that he had seen something he should not have.

　But Vestaline, who said this, was so dejected that Alueno consciously adjusted his cheeks and made an expression. The way her body is somewhat stiffened, she seems to be in awe of her opponent. She seems to have a straightforward and honest character. Such people tend to hold anguish inside their skulls.

　To be honest, I can't say that I'm in a good mood either. That's for sure. I still feel a sharp pain in the back of my head, and when I walk, I feel a little lightheaded.

　But I'm a candidate, a saint. If it's between guiding the afflicted and my own body, the former is overwhelmingly more important.

　That is the role of a person who wants to be a saint, and the meaning of her existence here. Alueno spun his words slowly, as if to calm Vestalines down.

Don't worry about it. And I'm not a saint, I'm just a candidate for sainthood. So you can call me Alueno if you like.

　Vestaline's figure, cradling herself on the chair, looks like a tormented child, not in keeping with her large frame. Tilting her head to meet his gaze, Alueno dared to break his words and make a sound.

　However, as if to refute Alueno's words, Vesterine's pale lips wavered. Trying to suppress it, Alueno continued to speak. The golden eyes shine brightly even in the dim room.

And the more you harden, the more your words and feelings will be stiffened. It's better to take it easy a little.

　Alueno chuckled in his heart, not knowing what the sisters of the cathedral would say if they heard such words.

　Just take it easy is something that no one who lives there would ever say. They always prefer to be polite and formal. Oh, by the way, I was taught those words when I was a child. From a childhood friend I used to play with.

　Suddenly, Alueno felt a hard stone fall into his chest. A sharp pain flashed through his head for a moment. Quickly biting his cheek, he waited for Vesterine's words, trying not to show what was rising in his heart.

　There was a moment of silence, maybe ten seconds. Vestaline exhaled loudly, and her cheeks, which had probably relaxed slightly, moved awkwardly. The way she was searching for words, she seemed to be in deep distress, wondering what she should say to the other person.

　I wondered what she was really worrying about. It was true that Vestalines seemed to have a hard personality, but Alueno's impression was that she had a strong spirit, and even if she was troubled, she had the strength to break through it.

　But now, she is troubled and trembling like a little child. I can't help but wonder about that.

"Mr. Alueno. What if, what if...

　The words you spit out are inexplicably poor. It was easy to imagine that he was struggling to speak. Alueno nodded as if to encourage the next words.

He said, "What should one do when one has doubts about a being that one truly believes in? Is it enough to believe in that being? Or ......

　Vestalinu's words sink into the dimness. It was as if the darkness itself had swallowed the voice. As if to swell the darkness, the only thing that was shining in the room disappeared.

　--As soon as Vestalinu's words faded, Alueno's golden eyes narrowed.


　I'm not sure what to say.


"...... How is Vestalinu?

　I'm not sure what to make of this. I'm not sure if you've heard of this, but I'm sure you have.

What? The saint Alueno is with us now. I'm sure she'll settle down by night.

　Mordor understood that this was a hopeful observation.

　Even though she was a candidate for sainthood, this Alueno girl was still young. It is often said that the only way to get rid of heartache is to grow old. But still, Mordor hoped that she would be a cure for his daughter.

　An exaggerated sigh escaped Maldoror's mouth. The grief was there to be let out. All the mistakes he had made in front of Vestalines, all in there, too, he sighed. For a moment, Mordor's eyelids close thoughtfully.

　The next time he opens his eyes, there is no longer any sadness or concern in them. All he could think about was who had given his daughter the information. Who brought the name Bruder-Gerua to this city?

　One of Mordor's strengths is this conscious absence of unnecessary emotion. When he was a mercenary, his days were spent beside the battlefield. It was as if half of his body became the battlefield. If strange sentimentality or emotion wavered there, it was easy for death to step in. Mordor had seen many outstanding people lose their lives before they knew it because they could not understand the emotions that lurked within them.

　That's why he learned one skill during his days on the battlefield. This is the art of detaching from thought all but the necessary emotions, that is, all but one's own desires.

　At first, consciously. Gradually, unconsciously. Now, no matter how sobering the emotions, with a single sigh, Moldow could dismiss them. Then you can see what your desires are, what your true needs are.



　At any rate, there's something we need to find out as soon as possible. The source of the information. Bruder-Gerua, it's rather fortuitous that someone who knows that name exists in this city, Belle Fain.

　It was the name that stuck in Mordor's ears the most, and yet it was the name he hated the most. Perhaps that's why, as soon as Vestalines said the word, his eyes flickered, and he forgot to mend them. Vestaline's reaction to that. There is no doubt that she is asking about something.

　How much does Vestalines know? How much is she sure of? And from whom did she get this information? I'll have to find out.

　Mordor felt a coldness return to his heart that hadn't been there in a long time, like when he was a mercenary. Slowly, slowly, like iron in the cold letting cold air in from its core, Moldow's heart was losing its heat.

"Mr. Moldow, you have a visitor.

　Suddenly, his thick fingers move at the words. There are no visitors scheduled for today. It was quite unusual to have such an unplanned visitor, starting with the saint Alueno.

　The visitor's status was noble. If that's the case, I can't just turn him away.

"Very well, show him in. What is your name?

　When I asked the servant who bowed his head, he pursed his lips slightly and slowly opened his mouth as if remembering.