Ch.8Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

The snowflake-like fluttering petals were truly beautiful.

The welcoming crowd filling the dock couldn’t be contained in my field of vision. Hot cheers and applause echoed in my ears.

It was a grand welcoming ceremony, but one befitting the hero who would fill the darkest era with light.

Far across the dock filled with heat and humidity, officials from the Church stretched out their arms to welcome us.

At first glance, they seemed like simple, honest people, but I could read the swirling desires in their eyes.

A place where the sticky air was permeated with unidentifiable emotions.

There, the hero and the cardinal shook hands.

Episode 2 – Heroes of the Continent

The schedule was tighter than expected.

We dined with important figures, had a brief meeting with the cardinal, and exchanged greetings with foreign dignitaries who had come to visit.

It was quite unusual to give such treatment to people who weren’t heads of state or high-ranking officials.

The Church treated us with the highest courtesy they could offer for one civilian and three soldiers.

The reason we received such treatment was due to the special nature of being a hero.

God’s representative. A hero proven by history. The greatest variable in both battlefield and diplomacy. Because the countless words describing a hero carried meanings that were far from trivial, Camilla Rowell and I, her companion, were treated as honored guests upon entering the Church’s domain.

Pippin, Jake, and I were initially overwhelmed by the heat of the passionate crowd, but soon adapted to the Church’s atmosphere. Our assigned mission was too important to indulge in lengthy impressions.

And in this situation, the person who couldn’t hide her excitement was none other than the hero, Camilla Rowell.

“Wooow! Frederick, this place is so beautiful!”

She had looked like she was about to die from seasickness, but apparently regained her vitality after eating.

Camilla Rowell bounced around with her scarlet hair fluttering. Like a tourist visiting a foreign country for the first time, she looked around everywhere, showing great interest in the Church’s architecture and way of life. The Church people escorting us were far from displeased by her behavior; rather, they received her reactions positively.

“Ho ho! Are you enjoying yourself, Hero?”

“Yes!”

Cardinal Raphael, the head of hospitality, was also one of those who enjoyed her reactions.

Although I had been ordered to remove the leeches that clung to the hero, I couldn’t just tell the cardinal to “keep your distance from the hero” to his face. Besides, this was Church territory. A cardinal was a powerful figure in these parts, so I had neither justification nor means to restrain him.

I should just see this as endearing and let it slide. The world is gloomy enough without being cold and rigid—that’s how you get stabbed.

“Pippin. Look after the hero. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, Major.”

Good. With Pippin by the hero’s side, I no longer needed to worry about that situation.

I listened to the brief report Jake had prepared.

“The hero’s current schedule is a city tour. After this, we’ll be assigned lodgings, take a short rest, and then attend a dinner banquet. After that, we’ll rest until tomorrow morning.”

“Have you checked the list of attendees for the dinner banquet?”

“Only Church officials will be attending. Foreign ambassadors are expected to attend from the next banquet onward.”

“Right, right. Contact our embassy and tell them to send me the profiles of all foreigners staying at the Church.”

“Yes, sir.”

There’s so much to prepare.

I can’t tell if I’m the hero’s companion or just her errand boy.

“But with a beauty like that, it must be worth the trouble, right?”

“Shut up.”

“You know you like it too, Major.”

“Keep talking and you might find a lead bullet in your mouth.”

The blonde, tanned troublemaker stopped his nonsense and started acting sharp. Now that I knew the hero’s schedule, it was time to check our own.

“We’re maintaining communication with the embassy and continuously receiving information. We’ve identified the profiles and locations of foreigners staying at the Church and kingdom residents.”

“Are there any… thoughtful individuals here?”

“No, sir. No political dissidents in sight. Most have likely crossed over to the Empire or third countries, making them difficult to find here.”

Okay.

It seems there are no subversives from our side in Church territory.

“Colonel Clevins mentioned there’s an agent at the embassy. Jake, drop your luggage at the lodgings and meet with that person to gather some information.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Keeping Pippin constantly by the hero’s side would look strange, so from tomorrow, I’ll personally mark the hero. Pippin, you’ll collect information at the lodgings, and Jake, you’ll meet people outside.”

“Understood. But wouldn’t it be more appropriate protocol-wise for you to meet with foreign ministry people or informants, Major? They’ll all outrank me.”

Jake showed a concerned expression, unlike his appearance. In a way, it made sense. People staying at foreign embassies would be nobles at worst, and at least higher-ranked than a lieutenant.

But with the hero’s backing, we don’t need to worry about such things.

“We’re here on special orders from our country, so it doesn’t matter. If anyone gives you trouble about rank, tell me. I’ll take care of them.”

“Wow, I almost fell for you just now. I love you, Major.”

“Cut the crap. Stop talking nonsense and check my schedule.”

Jake flipped through his notebook with a grin. I committed the briefly outlined schedule to memory as I followed the hero.

Amidst the calm people, the excited Camilla Rowell was like a bouncing ball. Perhaps like a dog out for a walk after a long time? Anyway, she was a person full of energy. At a glance, her actions seemed to waste energy. It might sound like an unpleasant, cold thought, but what can I do? The world she and I live in is just too different.

I’m the type who immediately suspects when someone familiar passes by on the street, who wonders if discarded trash might be a bomb.

I wasn’t always like this, but life changed me. No, I think I was like this in my past life too. I was a soldier, after all.

Camilla Rowell tilts her head curiously as she looks at decorations along the street. She seems very curious. Honestly, I prefer cats to dogs. Does that mean Camilla Rowell and I are incompatible? Still, she appears kind and gentle on the surface, so I don’t particularly feel any aversion.

Rather, the aversion is toward the black-haired person right in front of me—

“Huh?”

Something burrowed into my chest. Jake’s eyes, standing beside me, widened. A surprised expression.

My body falls backward. The world is tilting. Even in this moment, my thoughts don’t stop.

The person who approached me stabbed something into my chest. Black hair. Red eyes? A distinctive feature. There are many black-haired people in this world, but few with red eyes. The figure seems rather small. Screams erupt around me. The black-haired person is nowhere to be seen, already fled far away.

My mind starts racing quickly, but I’ve lost the culprit. It’s a terrorist attack. The atmosphere around is already chaotic. There’s a possibility of a secondary attack. Is the target the hero or me? People screamed in horror, and I grabbed Jake by the collar as he bent down to help me up.

“Black hair! Red eyes! Protect Camilla!”

“Understood!”

It wasn’t even a complete sentence.

But being quick-witted, he understood my words and ran toward Camilla Rowell. Pippin was already shielding Camilla, watching in all directions.

Instinctively, I reached for my waist, but my gun wasn’t there. Damn it. I remembered I had packed it away in my luggage during the disarmament.

Amidst screams from all directions, I felt my abdomen and chest with my hands. No injuries, no pain. Fortunately, it wasn’t an assassination attempt. As I was getting up with a sigh of relief, a huge explosion in front of me—

—!!

…occurred.

It was a terrorist attack.

*

‘Today at 4:50 PM, a bomb attack occurred in the central area of the Church. At the time, Cardinal Raphael and other officials were heading to their next destination after completing the welcoming ceremony for the hero’s party visiting the Church. So far, 7 deaths and 31 injuries have been confirmed. Meanwhile, the Inquisition claims this terror attack was the work of dark mages…’

The announcer’s voice echoed through the dim hospital room. I lay in bed, watching the news flowing from the screen on the wall.

This world is quite strange. No airplanes or satellites, yet they have news. Perhaps it’s because magic exists in this world—there are many fascinating things. It’s truly a world beyond understanding.

I stroked my beardless chin as I listened to Pippin’s report.

“…As of 21:03, there are 13 deaths and 49 injuries. It was a terrorist attack using an improvised explosive device disguised as a small package. No casualties have been reported among Church officials, the hero, or our personnel.”

She spoke in a deliberately calm tone, enunciating clearly. I heard she was nearby during the explosion, but apart from being startled, she was remarkably composed.

She gave a faint smile, resolving my curiosity.

“I lost my parents to terrorism when I was young.”

“…I’m sorry. I should have been more careful.”

“Not at all, Major. Are you uninjured? I heard you were attacked.”

“Yeah. At first I thought I’d been stabbed, but I wasn’t hurt at all.”

“That’s strange.”

She put down her report and sat in the visitor’s chair. The news broadcast only interviews with survivors and censored information.

From what I could gather, there wasn’t much valuable information.

“Is Jake okay? He seemed pretty shaken.”

“Both of us are uninjured. However, Camilla Rowell and Cardinal Raphael appear to be quite shocked.”

“Well, a bomb went off right in front of them—of course they’d be shocked. Has anyone come to visit?”

“People from the embassy came. When asked, they said they’re still assessing the situation and have no information yet.”

Hmm.

“What does the Church say?”

“The Inquisition claims it was the work of dark mages, but when I met with officials, they seemed uncertain. It appears to be media manipulation.”

Of course. A bomb exploded in the heart of their territory—if they already had the situation assessed, they’d be the culprits themselves.

So it’s media manipulation about dark mages. I think the Colonel said something similar. I should reach out.

“Intelligence doesn’t know. The Inquisition doesn’t know. What are the Empire and other countries saying?”

“Other countries have sent ambassadors to deny any involvement. They genuinely seemed unaware. The problem is the Kiyen Empire, which hasn’t given an official response yet.”

“Don’t they handle foreign operations through the Imperial Guard?”

“After communicating with our country, we learned that even the Kiyen Empire’s ambassador at the embassy hasn’t received any instructions. However…”

“Go on.”

“Imperial Guard agents have begun operating within Church territory.”

No response, but they’re conducting espionage operations.

Something’s suspicious.

“Be careful, all of you. Don’t get entangled with the Empire’s people. And make sure to keep the leeches away from the hero.”

“Understood, Major Frederick.”

“Oh, and have you found that black-haired person who ran into me?”

“We’re still searching, but no results yet.”

“Alright. Pippin, go get some rest too.”

Pippin saluted and left the hospital room.

A dim hospital room. I woke up and it was already night. The clock showed 9:30 PM, and the news was just parroting dubious information.

TV. I’m not sure if that’s the right term. Anyway, I turned off the news and leaned back in the hospital bed, closing my eyes to organize the information.

According to Pippin’s report, others had suffered quite a bit too. Cardinal Raphael had fallen into a coma but regained consciousness, and Camilla Rowell was struggling emotionally. The same was true for Jake and Pippin. Pippin’s speech had even become rigid.

“…”

A bomb attack. An improvised explosive device disguised as a package. Exploded on the street.

Suspect unknown. Target either the hero or the cardinal.

Given that it exploded despite the target not being within the blast radius, it must have had a timed detonator.

The terrorist must be someone who knew exactly where and when we would pass by—someone capable of analyzing the precise schedule and timetable.

Honestly, I suspect an insider from the Church rather than the Empire.

And then there’s the black-haired assailant who attacked me just before the bomb explosion.

The silent Empire. Countries denying involvement. Intelligence agents operating within the Church.

No further information.

“…Damn it.”

We experienced a bomb attack just one day after arriving at the Church. In broad daylight, no less.

There definitely wasn’t any bomb explosion in the game. At least not during this time period.

Come to think of it, it’s always been like this.

Cardinal Raul, who should have been at the Church, was messing around at the palace. Priestess Lucia had to endure all sorts of schemes alone. The Magic Tower was fiercely fighting over succession issues. The hero’s companions, who should have been four, increased to five. And now a bomb attack.

I have no idea how the story is unfolding. I don’t know where the problem originated.

My head is just a complete mess.

As I was rummaging through my luggage, trying to find a thread to unravel this tangled skein—

-Knock. Knock.

“…Who is it?”

“It’s me… Camilla Rowell.”

The hero had come to visit.