Seeing Kuze the Passing Disaster appear, Giza the Wingsword puffed his short cigarette.
"Well, now. Looks like you were in a real panic to get here, Mr. Assassin." Giza was sitting down on the stairs in front of the chapel. Along with him,
several members of Sun's Conifer were standing side by side nearby. He needed to get past these stairs and head inside to reach the almshouse. Passing right through the innumerable mob of Sun's Conifer members crowding around.
A gang clamoring under the bright lights and behind the chiming of the church bells. It almost looked like a festival.
"…Sorry. This old man'd really like to surrender right away." Kuze raised both his hands while giving a flippant smile. "Piss off."
His attitude seemed to have rubbed Giza the wrong way.
"Go on and die, right here, right now. You're the one who killed Jivlart, dammit. Can't complain if Sun's Conifer…if all of us gathered here kill you, yeah? Am I wrong? Making some mistake? After all the people you've killed up until now, why the hell are you the only one who gets to keep on living with that stupid grin on your face? Did you…did you really wanna win the Sixways Exhibition so bad that you used the dirtiest, sleaziest tricks to do it? Spit it out."
"Bweh-heh-heh… Well, let's see…"
He wasn't the one who killed Jivlart. Maybe he just should've said they had the wrong guy.
Tell them that he didn't care what happened to him, but he just wanted the children to be safe.
"I don't care what happens to me," huh?
It was terribly ironic. He truly felt that way deep in his heart, yet those were the only words he couldn't bring himself to say.
As long as he had Nastique's divine protection from death at his side, Kuze defenselessly exposing himself to the groups' murderous anger was essentially a decision to massacre all his enemies.
The intention to betray his faith and kill his enemies was all he needed for Nastique to slaughter everyone in his sights. However, Curte, who he had killed in Lithia, his former friend Nofelt, and Tu, who he had come very close to killing as well… Even after he descended into hell, Kuze didn't think he'd be able to forget about them.
"Bweh-heh-heh… Sorry. While I'm surrendering here, I'd like to talk a bit about Jivlart."
"Jivlart was…"
The church's bell was ringing.
Giza's voice trembled with anger as he spoke.
"…among all of us, the only one able to think about the road ahead. Said
we'd do really amazing stuff once Aureatia recognized us… Told us that Sun's Conifer, that we'd become a guild beloved by anyone… He just needed to win in the Sixways Exhibition, and it was all gonna be smooth sailing from there, dammit! We'd be able to break off from all the crappy jobs we've been doing until now…with all of us living in houses, and with even bigger jobs, we were gonna get women, money, and hell, even families of our own, ya hear me?! That guy, that guy was the only one… The only one among all the rest of us worthless scum who could dream."
"…You don't say."
Jivlart the Ash Border's actual abilities were the most inferior among the hero candidates, and as such, he had been picked as Rosclay the Absolute's opponent in the first round match. He had heard the details from Zigita Zogi. That whether it came to prudence or character, he was no better than a frontier ruffian.
There was no way that was true.
"So he really was…a pretty important guy, huh?"
Jivlart the Ash Border should've made a far more outstanding hero than someone like Kuze.
Persecuted by everything in a dead-end world, he had been able to see a distinct hope.
He managed to give his dream to his comrades and guide them.
Both of these were impossible to Kuze. The salvation that he had discovered as he struggled in a sea of despair was nothing but even deeper darkness. In order to assassinate the Queen, to assassinate the hero, he was battling in the Sixways Exhibition.
"Don't you dare talk like you ain't got nothing to do with it, asshole." Responding to Giza's anger, Sun's Conifer encircled Kuze.
They were clearly trying to kill Kuze. Anyone who tried to would die. They would die, and then someone else would be taken with revenge. Death would infinitely chain together and never stop.
As if it was the way the very world itself operated, they would die.
"You're the bastard who killed him, ain't you?! Leeching off the Order! Joining up with sleazy slave traders! Assholes like you are the ones tossing clueless damn children into the gutter, ain't you?! You… You're just like the bastards back in my hometown! When you heard we caught your 'goods,' you were the only one from the Order who came flying out here in a hurry, weren't you?! G-guys…guys like you being at the top's why even the damn Order
itself…why the Order's ended up like this!"
"Hah."
All the words Giza the Wingsword had spouted off were nothing more than misdirected suspicions, as far from the truth as they could possibly be.
The tragedy that had befallen the children was the result of the weakened Order being exploited by crime, and the reason the Order was weakened was because faith had been lost to the True Demon King, and they had been neglected in their state of decline.
Given that the story was consistent, despite being completely unfounded, someone must have planted it in his head. Kuze even knew what person would paint a picture like this, too.
"…Ha-ha-ha…"
However, Kuze laughed.
The all-too-ironic story made him unable to stop laughing.
Because it was also exactly as Giza said.
"Ha-ha-ha… Ha-ha-ha-ha, that's right. You're right…" Kuze replied through his laughter.
"That's it. This old man… See, well… He's a wicked man. The Order…the upper echelons of the Order, they've been under the control of abject scum, see… Meanwhile, this old man's a killer—and selling kids into slavery…! Why not? That's rich. Ha-ha, ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
The church bell was ringing. "Hey…"
Sun's Conifer were more perplexed than anything, seeing Kuze burst into laughter before them.
The wave of murderous rage that seemed ready to kick off at any second, for a very brief moment, stopped. However, the anger quickly swelled even larger and surged toward Kuze…
I really can't save them.
He was a paladin and a murderer. This sin of his was an immutable fact.
Tu the Magic wasn't there. From here, Kuze would likely kill a terrifying number of people. As a mass murderer, he'd lose his qualifications to be a hero candidate. Even lose the victory Tu entrusted him with.
Kuze laughed. He laughed so much that tears came to his eyes.
…I can't save anyone. Not as I am.
"I'm gonna hack you into mincemeat, you piece of shit."
Unsheathing a sword in each hand, Giza the Wingsword stood next to Kuze
as he was crouched over laughing.
The swords were hanging over his head, he realized. Now was surely when an angel would come…
An angel will fly in, and…
Rain.
The light of the small moon through the clouds shone off the blade raised above his head.
It was headed toward Kuze's neck. "Die."
There was a metallic clang. Kuze's gauntlet had reflexively blocked the blade.
For the first time, the defensive techniques Kuze had only even used to stop himself from killing his enemy had been used to defend himself.
"…Nastique."
It was Kuze's turn to look perplexed.
Instead of looking at Sun's Conifer as they surrounded him, raring to kill, he searched for the angel no one else but he could see.
"Where are you?! Nastique!" "Sit still and die, dammit!" "Gwaugh?!"
His stomach was punched hard. The blow was filled with an intense intent to kill.
The angel of death should've killed him in return for such an attack. "Wh-what the hell's…going on here…? Bweh-heh-heh… Nastique…"
He was surrounded. Punched and kicked. As he took in the excruciating pain all over his body, and the even fiercer whirlwind of murderous rage, Kuze facetiously chuckled.
"…I… I killed Nofelt. He was a close friend."
Perhaps things had been the same for him and Nofelt, too.
"…If I had made it in time… You wouldn't have had to kill anyone at all… Despite all that…are you going to save me?"
His cheekbones broken and blood streaming from his eyes and nose, still Kuze's eyes weren't on the Sun's Conifer mob. Lingering beyond them was a large, silent white figure.
"Uhak."
In the Sixways Exhibition, there were two hero candidates from the Order. Kuze the Passing Disaster knew that there was someone praying there every
day. Right around when the bell would ring to tell the faithful of the day's close, he would appear there without fail.
The bell was ringing.
The gray ogre had a name. Uhak the Silent. Thing is, Nastique… She can't get close to you. "Quit yer laughing."
"We'll pull your guts out." "Yer gonna pay."
"You're dead, Kuze the Passing Disaster."
Ahhh. They're trying to kill me.
So much murderous rage was being pointed at him.
I guess so. Only natural this'd happen to me, really. Always has been.
A club brandished by one of the gang went to shatter Kuze's ribs. He brought his gauntlet up against the strike and deflected the club from their hands.
A giant of a man sent kick after kick into Kuze's back, and he was rammed headfirst into the rain-muddled ground. Another one of the gang tried to get on top of Kuze.
"Die! Go to hell, bastard!"
"Nghaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!"
With a stirring shout, he slammed his forehead into the top of his opponent's head. One of them tried to stab him with a short sword. Picking up his great shield off the ground, he slammed it into the ruffian's arm before the sword could find its mark.
He managed to do it all. He was able to fight. "Uhak. Why—?"
Uhak simply stared at the scene. Even Sun's Conifer was unable to get close to the quietly lingering ogre. It was as if there truly was a holy priest standing there.
Struggling to stop himself from being swallowed by the wave of the mob, Kuze shouted.
"Uhak…! Uhak! Why—why did you kill others?! See, I really…I really wanted to know why!"
He punched. A punch came right back at him. Adults fighting like a scuffle among children.
"I thought inside you…maybe you have your own beliefs…that are different from the Wordmaker's teachings…and let you kill other people. I…!" he shouted, drenched in blood.
Somewhere out in the world, there may have been a god who would forgive Kuze's sins.
Perhaps Uhak knew the truth, a truth beyond a faith composed from Word Arts. Nevertheless.
"I…!"
Even if he was able to learn mute Uhak's faith, Kuze would likely still pine for faith in the Wordmaker that was always out of his reach.
His heart, which felt such anguish towards the act of murder, was surely a form of salvation granted by the Wordmaker.
Knowing more than anyone it was sin, all he could do was fight and continue shouldering the burden.
"Die!"
"Evil bastard! We'll burn you alive!" "Go to hell, coward!"
He could exchange blows. For the first time, Kuze was managing to fight.
It may have been a sin the angel wouldn't have forgiven him for, but for that sole moment, with Uhak the Silent lingering nearby—Nastique the Quiet Singer wasn't watching over Kuze the Passing Disaster.
He punched. He flung people away. Kicks. Headbutts.
Alternating in turns, again and again, over and over.
"Haaah, haaah…"
"Why…why does this bastard…keep getting the hell back up?" "Quit slacking off… Get to it! Hurry up and wring his damn neck!" "This is… Haah-haah, for Jivlart!"
"…Bw-bwuh-bweh-heh-heh…heh-heh…"
Kuze laughed. He didn't even know what emotion was behind it, whether it was happy laughter, out of anger, or out of sadness. Before a group this size, he couldn't believe there was any hope of winning.
There clearly was, however, salvation.
A hope for even a man like Kuze, long shut away in the darkness of despair.
That's right. A guy like me. Even a sinner like me…
Might have been able to find his way to the children without killing anyone.
The almshouse children had been rounded up and gathered inside the biggest
dining room.
Leisha stretched up straight, raised her chin, and stared hard at the ruffians surrounding them.
Their gait and speech were terribly vulgar, and they seemed like villains. It was almost impossible for her to believe that these were the acquaintances of the same Mr. Jivlart she had heard Father Naijy praise.
"So like. What's gonna happen after we kidnap the brats?" "What, you gonna look after 'em?"
"Oh, knock it off. Koff! I told ya: I don't got a thing for no little brats!" "O-okay, in th-that case, can I—I take em? Hya-hee, hee."
Leisha was disgusted.
The boys older than her hadn't been any help at all. Even after they spouted all that bravado when Father Naijy had died, about how they'd protect all the little ones until they found someone to take everyone in.
There were some boys taken down by two or three jabs to their head or shoulders, and others who started crying just from seeing it all happen. Even the boys who had continued to fight back were now limply lying around after having their hands and feet bound tight with rope.
Leisha was the oldest girl there, so this time, she needed to fight.
"Well, I'm not going to become the sort of adult you all are, that's for sure." "What the hell's this one talking about?"
The ruffians seemed to have difficulty picking up the meaning of Leisha's words.
"Ha. Little runts just say weird stuff from time to time."
"Can't believe Jivlart supported these brats for so long. I couldn't even stand one of 'em."
"All right, little girl, then what do ya want to become, then?"
One of the men standing beside Leisha said this, out of either curiosity or derision. He looked older than the other ruffians, a man with thin hair and a smirk.
"I'm going to be Father Kuze's wife. We're going to live happily ever after." "Hee-hee-hee, hey, this one's funny. Precocious little runt."
"…Were all of you raised without being taught the Wordmaker's teachings?" Even if they got violent with her, Leisha wasn't scared in the slightest. Though she was very scared of any wounds to her face, when she thought about then being forced to submit to them, she wouldn't be any different from the boys. They had been childish no matter how much bigger they looked, and thus
she didn't fear them at all.
Besides, Leisha was a child raised by the Order.
She had learned through it all. What was right, what was wrong. These were things she knew she'd never disguise.
"I even feel bad for Mr. Jivlart. After all, he may have done all those nice things while he was alive, but here his own pals are doing something awful. You clomp around everywhere you walk, you throw spit wherever you want like it's nothing, and even your laughs are filthy. Makes it clear what sort of upbringing you all've had."
Leisha was definitely not going to grow up to be an adult like them. Someday, she was sure to be able to live a happier life. Holding on to hope,
she could keep striving toward it.
Since, no matter what painful difficulties she faced, her spirit would be supported by the teachings of the Wordmaker.
Even without any family, even people in the absolute depths of misfortune, even children and the elderly—the teaching had saved the hearts of many people since they were brought into this world.
"Upbringing, is it?"
"What's with this girl? She the lone rich girl in here or what?" "..."
The air among the ruffians changed. It wasn't the violent fervor they had shown from the beginning, but a sort of…cold murderous urge, mixed with fear, in response to some part of what Leisha had said.
I'm not scared whatsoever. Not at all.
Telling herself "whatsoever" might have been a lie. Her face was still the only part she didn't want injured, after all.
I'm sure things will get better from here on out. Even after my adoption fell through, even if Father Naijy's dead and the almshouse is going under. Father Kuze… After all, I'm going to be his bride someday.
His fatigued smile looked as if he was always lamenting misery and misfortune.
That was why Leisha felt she wanted to make him happy. "Hey, this one's got a pretty face, doesn't she…?" "Yeah. She's cute for a brat. I can make it work."
"She was getting' real cheeky with us and all." "She was sayin' as much to Giza, too."
Even the ruffians were praising Leisha's features, too.
Of course. Leisha was the most beautiful there was. Normally, she would have felt pleased to hear their compliments, but there was something about the way they spoke that made her uneasy.
One of the men violently grabbed her hand.
"Eek…!"
"All right, you. Come with me into this room."
"Stop! Stop it, no matter what you do, I'm not going anywhere…!"
The adult man's grip was very strong, and Leisha was dragged off as if she was but a tiny bit of baggage. She had a terrifying premonition that everything was going to be ruined.
Something like this wasn't supposed to exist in the world Leisha believed in. It was why she had never imagined it.
No.
Never imagined such a thing—that everything in her life would come to an end in wretchedness and misery.
"Come on!"
"No… Save me, Father Kuze!"
The door opened before the ruffian opened it himself. A fist came flying in from the other side.
It connected with the ruffian's face and sent him flying.
A single man flew out from behind the door and protected Leisha. With a bestial growl, he struck down all the ruffians in the room.
Frantically and slovenly, punching, pulling them down, hitting them with a broken piece of wood.
The man was wearing tattered black clothes, while his face was swollen beyond recognition and covered in blood. Nevertheless, Leisha immediately knew who it was.
"…Heyo." "Father Kuze."
Father Kuze hugged Leisha in his big arms.
His usual ashy smell was overpowered by the stronger smell of blood, but his warmth was all the same.
"Father… Father Kuze!"
She knew from the very start.
Father Kuze was a paladin. He was always out fighting like this and protecting Leisha and the others.
No matter how battered he got, no matter how bloodied he became, he was
fighting to protect someone.
"Thank you. Everyone's…everyone's safe. I stood up to them as everyone's big sister!"
"Ah-ha. Leisha, thank you…thank you for protecting everyone. Thank goodness. I'm really…really glad that no one ended up dead."
Looking up at Kuze's blood-covered face, Leisha smiled with the prettiest face she could muster.
She thought it was becoming of his future bride.
Kuze's face, scratched, bruised, and battered from fighting, was, to Leisha, the absolute most—
"Even when you're all scratched up… Father Kuze, you're still the coolest man in the world."
"Am I, now? That's right, huh. Normally…when you fight, you get all covered in cuts and scrapes like this, don't you…?"
However, Father Kuze gave an exhausted smile.
Despite being victorious in a fight he could pride himself on forever and then some.
As if it was the same smile he always wore.
"…Bweh-heh-heh."