HPV 20

Yurichen, who had remained standing stiffly until that moment, suddenly tore off his veil with a rough motion and strode forward.

His silver hair, uncharacteristically disheveled, fell over his face. He wasn’t even wearing his glasses, and his eyes blazed with a brilliance like a winter lightning strike. Even Penzey had to avert his gaze, as if the light might blind him.

Paronai, sensing that a storm of scolding and rebuke was about to come crashing down, shouted before he could even sheath the holy sword.

“Wait! Penzey did open the coffin, but he didn’t take anything of the deceased. He only removed the faulty relics!”

Only then did Yurichen hesitate. He stopped as if tripping on a stone and fell silent for a moment.

The mage with bizarre and grotesque tastes, who had gone in and out of prison several times. Most charges were for tampering with graves that already had owners. Rumors had it that, if not for all the time spent behind bars, he would have long since reached the seventh circle.

It was true that he sought magical materials from graves steeped in power. But the truth was… what he really wanted was merely the soil from the graves.

Penzey always dug only a small handful of soil from beside the grave. He had never tried to open a coffin. And if someone had seen it that way, then it must have been a misunderstanding.

“……”

By now, Yurichen’s rationality had returned. With a frosty look in his eyes, he reached into his robe, retrieved his glasses, and put them on. Penzey let out a sigh, then finally looked up at the high priest.

The fluttering hem of Yurichen’s long robe brushed against Penzey’s knees, where he sat slumped. Yurichen came closer, then kneeled.

“Hold out your arm.”

Yurichen had no reason to feel sorry for him. Penzey hadn’t even tried to explain himself when accused of using dark magic—there was some fault on his part as well.

The bare arm, mottled from a monster’s attack, was revealed. Yurichen prayed, calling upon a power of healing that was pure even among holy energies.

“O Gaioth, who placed the sun in the sky and breathed life into this land, my sovereign above all… save this ignorant and shameless man. Though he defies Your will with every breath he takes, I am in need of him.”

Penzey, who had been listening with half an ear as if enduring a boring sermon, started to frown and twitch. Eventually, he exploded.

“That’s nonsense! What kind of prayer is that?!”

“The mark of a healer lies in a pure, honest heart that genuinely wishes for the patient’s recovery. A healer’s prayer should be as sincere as possible. And look—healing is already happening.”

Penzey was at a loss for words. Usually, it was the lofty Yurichen who lost in these petty quarrels, so even Penzey looked dumbfounded.

Once the treatment was complete and Yurichen stood up, the warrior of the group stepped in front of him. Paronai, having just strapped the holy sword back onto his back, finally spoke the truth he had kept buried inside.

“I don’t think I’m fit to be the sword’s master.”

Yurichen’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Honestly, I thought about it every day. Why me? There are better, more experienced knights out there. I haven’t even been formally knighted yet. Still… it’s true I got a little cocky. I was so happy when I first got the sword, I literally jumped for joy.”

Paronai blushed, remembering how he had bounced excitedly, holding the holy sword in awe, completely unaware of Yurichen’s true feelings.

At that moment, though his gaze remained cold, Yurichen’s lips unmistakably curved into a faint smile. The rare sight made Paronai’s eyes widen.

“Are you trying to disregard the oracle of Lord Gaioh?”

“Huh? No, I…”

“If the sacred relic was given to you, then there was a reason it had to be so.”

Holding my throbbing shoulder, I watched the two of them with a dumbfounded look. Yurichen’s expression was not the only thing that made me feel relieved.

‘Good thing Yurichen gets over things quickly.’

Just my guess, but maybe he found a bit of satisfaction in seeing Penzey suffer after recklessly opening the tomb against his advice.

“Riarun, you as well—show me your shoulder.”

I flinched like a bystander suddenly called out. Yurichen was now walking toward me.

I thought I’d gone unnoticed, but I suppose a healer’s eyes miss nothing. Feeling Banwes’s sharp gaze on my back, I extended my right hand to Yurichen.

In the end, this tomb had been touched by both Penzey and Yurichen. The coffin had been opened to confirm the remains, then respectfully closed again, and Yurichen had performed the purification.

“Thank you very much. Here’s a token of appreciation.”

“There’s no need. Keep it.”

Maybe it was due to the large number of Gaioh’s followers—most of the villagers came out to see us off.

The sight of everyone expressing their thanks left an odd impression on me. Even as we left, I kept looking back.

—

The group walked through dense forests and briefly passed through a new city within some count’s territory.

People and buildings alike were dressed in splendid colors. White and rainbow hues had been splashed across the world.

As I gazed at the sprawling city, for a fleeting moment I thought—I might just lose myself here.

“We stayed two days in the previous village. We won’t be lodging here. If we keep up the pace, we’ll be out of the city by nightfall.”

With that, the passing time suddenly felt even more precious. I craned my neck to peer past the passersby, taking in the streets.

“Stop getting distracted. You’ll fall behind.”

Yurichen’s scolding didn’t help. I was always quick to be captivated by things I’d never seen before—dolls in a glass display that looked like a fairy’s house, a fountain where people tossed coins, flowers more beautiful than any jewel, dazzling in color.

Penzey grinned openly and slung an arm around my shoulders.

“Is this your first time seeing something like this? Well, I guess the Order isn’t so different from a temple—you probably lived a boring life without even toys. Want me to buy you a doll?”

As the group began to drift apart, Yurichen intervened sharply.

“Paronai. Take Riarun’s hand and walk with him.”

At first, it had just been me and Banwes walking side by side. Now Paronai joined us, and the three of us walked together. I kept slowing my pace, and though Paronai looked troubled, he matched my steps.

Then, all of a sudden, I turned my head, as if something had tugged me from behind.

A man in a black robe slipped through the crowd.

The moment I recognized that familiar black hem, my limbs began to tremble and my whole body turned cold. Sweat beaded on my forehead. Without realizing it, I let go of Paronai’s hand.

They followed me. From the beginning… I was under the Order’s nose all along.

I couldn’t even shout to alert anyone. He was steadily pushing through the crowd, coming closer, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even speak.

I could already imagine his hand reaching out for me—

Thunk! A sound like an arrow slicing through the air.

“Oh my gosh!”

“An arrow! Where did it come from?”

“Are you hurt?”

An arrow had flown in from somewhere and pierced only the man’s hood, pinning him to a wall and leaving him dangling. His neck, shoulders, and face were exposed as he trembled—then began to fume with rage.

“You! It came from your direction! Empty your pockets!”

“It wasn’t me! I swear!”

The crowd began pointing fingers in every direction, trying to find the culprit. The whole area quickly became chaotic.

A technique that fires arrows from midair…

That was my last thought before I was suddenly lifted off the ground. It felt like someone was forcefully pushing me away. That was all I could make sense of.

I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them, I was behind a secluded wall.

The boy raised by elves, who worships elves, yet has black hair and all other features clearly human—Bzhan—spoke firmly.

“That man was staring straight at you and approaching. His color was like yours, but his heart reeked of something foul.”

So the man had been tailing me. I might have been just moments away from being taken.

“You too are chased by humans. You too have suffered injustice.”

I barely managed to calm my churning stomach. It’s okay, it’s okay, I told myself, pressing a hand to my chest as my composure returned.

“…Bzhan, you can’t just act on your own. I get scared you’ll get hurt firing arrows like that.”

I searched for Bzhan’s eyes, half-hidden beneath his hair. We looked at each other briefly, and I was just about to turn back toward the group when a rough hand suddenly grabbed my arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Banwes, clearly furious, had grabbed me like he was about to hoist me into the air. I instinctively flinched, but then straightened.

I tried to meet his gaze confidently, but truthfully, no excuse came to mind right away.

I wandered off on my own. Of course they’ll be mad. Good—this’ll make it easier to take the blame.

I even thought, since it’s about time I get carried again, maybe I’d just let the furious Banwes throw me over his shoulder like a sack.

But instead, the man simply turned and started walking.

While still gripping my hand so tightly it stung.

I was practically swept along by his long, unrelenting strides. His palm, binding mine, was scorching hot and dry.

It felt even stranger than being carried… even stranger than the kiss we’d shared out of necessity that day.