Good Friends (12)

The sunlight is hazy beneath the stained glass.

The sound of elderly priests walking down the corridor echoes leisurely, and the laughter of orphans taken in by the church fills the garden. Nuns flutter their veils as they hurry to attend mass, and heresy inquisitors go about their day with fiery eyes, seeking out the wicked.

“Hello, Father.”

“Yes. Nice to see you. May you have peace today as well.”

The old priest with a long beard enjoyed the sunlight, watching a moment in the church with a dignified smile. The elderly enjoy stepping into the sunny spots of youth. They form a panorama by superimposing memories they can’t return to onto this moment of youth, and by strolling through it leisurely, they can live as young people for a moment.

“E-emergency! Emergency!”

But this brief peace of the old priest was interrupted by the urgent cry of “Emergency!” and the sound of bells.

The place where the emergency bell rings the loudest in the capital is the church.

It was because the hero’s party had returned to the capital with demon converts without proceeding to the next operation.

As those who heard the news expressed their surprise in their own ways, the old priest bit his nails among people with their mouths agape. He felt a strange uneasiness at the words “demon converts.”

An uneasiness that only those who have lived for a long time can feel.

The intuition that one’s own safety is in danger.

---

“This is slander!”

The bishop shouted, spitting, in the grand conference room of the royal palace. Cold sweat beaded on his face, and his blinking eyes darting around made him look just like a carp. Others were also looking at the hero and Ashuria with troubled expressions.

The king, stroking his chin beard, said to the hero:

“He says it’s slander, what is the hero’s opinion?”

The hero spoke with a cold expression. The bishop’s flustered face made the hero’s heart boil, but strangely, while his chest felt hot, his head was getting colder.

“They are vividly testifying about the punishment methods they suffered and the incidents at the time. Rather than dismissing it as slander, I believe a reinvestigation of the incident records from that time is necessary.”

“Is that necessary? What kind of time is this? Our soldiers are fighting the Demon King’s army, and we should believe these traitors who turned into demons! Should we do something that breaks such morale? Huh? It’s a matter of timing! Timing! With how much manpower our church is supporting, to dig up such things, reinvestigate… No, to begin with, these so-called converts. Aren’t they all traitors? Couldn’t they be highly skilled spies hidden by the enemy for deception tactics?”

The king nodded and looked at the bishop.

“There’s some reason in what you say, Bishop. But how could demons memorize all the devil worship incidents of the church and hide fake victims in a cave? And from what I hear from the hero, they rushed at the nun with the intent to kill her in the cave, but had almost no combat power. The nun’s merit was great in persuading them there, and if they had wanted, they could have killed everyone and covered up the incident. Just as the righteous cannot understand the hearts of the wicked, evil does not presuppose goodwill. Can you plan based on the premise that demons would spare our soldiers and bring them before the Demon King? That’s not a meticulous plan, it’s in the realm of prophecy.”

“Th-that…”

The bishop rolled his eyes again. As the king said, there were too many variables for it to be a highly sophisticated deception. For the plan to work, the hero’s party had to fall into the trap and enter, the party’s nun had to believe and spare their story in the cave despite being a former heresy inquisitor, and the hero had to agree and bring them straight to the capital.

“If there were such a great strategist, the kingdom would have already lost the war. There’s no need to underestimate the opponent, but there’s also no need to overestimate them excessively. I’m not saying we should immediately arrest and imprison the relevant people. We need to reinvestigate to discern the truth. It’s an investigation that can be sufficiently carried out just using the guards within the capital.”

“So… um…”

The king looked at the hero again. The bishop was just stammering, unable to continue the conversation. The king said to the hero:

“Your courage is admirable, but returning to the capital hastily while bearing such an important responsibility was a somewhat reckless action.”

The hero bowed his head lightly at the king’s words and apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

But the hero’s words didn’t end there.

“Entrusting them to someone else and postponing the matter felt like breaking a promise. As you said, this is a war where we don’t know what’s ahead. That’s why I thought we should clearly address this issue at this point while we’re in a standoff.”

The king nodded again at those words.

“That’s also correct.”

The bishop revealed his anxiety, biting his nails.

Although no one was pressuring or questioning him, sweat was flowing down his face like a waterfall.

---

After the hero headed to the royal palace, Ashuria was looking at the cross with a complex expression. What meaning was the large cross on the church spire conveying to Ashuria now? Both Lena and I were pretending not to notice and eating our meal.

But Mille asked:

“What are you looking at so intently?”

“I was looking at the cross.”

At Ashuria’s words, Mille also stuck her head out towards the window. The cross visible straight ahead from this lodging was shining white in the sunlight. She reached out towards the cross, then looked down at the cross hanging around her own neck.

And she said to Mille:

“It’s a strange feeling. It’s as if someone keeps forcibly dragging out my memories.”

Ashuria continued speaking as she tucked the cross inside her clothes.

“There was a woman who begged us to spare her husband, saying he wasn’t a criminal. Because we were preparing for the execution, I coldly pushed her away and asserted that the man was indeed a criminal. The investigation results were clear, after all. Symbols of the devil were found in the house, and there were eyewitness accounts of him reciting demonic language.”

Both Lena and I stopped eating. Lena fixed her gaze on Ashuria while slowly chewing the food in her mouth. Mille was also nodding and listening to the story.

Ashuria blinked, looked at the ceiling, then sat down in her place. She ran her hand through her hair and asked us in a small voice:

“…Was he really a criminal?”

No one could answer. While we could empathize with the moment faith shatters, the way hearts crumble varies. I didn’t know what words of comfort to offer to her trembling shoulders and slightly rough breathing.

“…Lately, those memories keep coming back. The people I killed. Were they really criminals? Was I just being hypocritical, pretending to be God’s agent while killing innocent people? Doubts keep flooding in endlessly.”

Ashuria hunched over, covering her face. The way she wrapped her arms around herself made her look like she had become a vine herself.

In the sinking atmosphere,

Lena put down her fork.

The plate was cleanly emptied, and half the water in the glass was gone.

Then, leaning back in her chair, she said:

“You know, I killed someone for the first time when I was 10.”

Ashuria raised her head. Lena blinked and said:

“It was someone who was already dying, he was going to die anyway. If I hadn’t killed him, he would have died after two more days of torture. That was the request. The Black Society gave me the choice to kill him. They said if I didn’t kill him, this person would continue to be tortured until death. So I had to end this person’s life.”

Mille asked:

“So what happened?”

“I slit his throat. The blood splattered on my face like this. Along with the fishy smell, I felt something… strange, did I really do the right thing? Is this correct? The uncle who was there sent me to wash my face, but even after I cleaned my face thoroughly, the feeling of that blood covering my face didn’t go away.”

Lena picked up her fork and said:

“In the Black Society, they gradually increased the jobs like that. They kept making me kill people who were already dying, then one day it was just an injured person. On another day, it was someone fleeing while wounded. Then, it became people who had to be killed anyway.”

She moved the fork around as if positioning a person’s head, then put it back down on the plate.

“Then one day, when I was washing my hands and face, it felt incredibly refreshing. My face was clean, there was no blood, and I felt good because it smelled fragrant.”

Lena looked at Ashuria and said:

“That’s how people break. When you ignore guilt and rationalize, you just become numb like that, and become someone like me. You know, Ashuria. I thought you were really annoying and always saying the right things, but…”

Ashuria blinked and looked at Lena. Lena avoided her eyes, scratched her head, and said:

“But you’re feeling guilty now, aren’t you? So… to me, you’re not such a bad person. This… I don’t know if it’s comforting, but anyway, by my standards, you’re trying hard enough to return to being a good person and… also… you’re a better person than me.”

Ashuria stared at Lena with a blank expression. I started eating again. The sound of scraping plates echoed lightly, and Lena, watching Ashuria’s reaction, said:

“Um… Did that… comfort you?”

“…It’s the strangest comfort I’ve ever heard.”

But her voice wasn’t unpleasant. She stood up from her seat and said:

“…Still, I feel a little more energized.”