A Priest's Life as a Villain

Chapter 003

At the edge of the plains, just inside the forest.

It was the rendezvous point Josh had confessed. The moment he warned Jaina to be careful since the enemy was likely lying in ambush, she got hit.

'It's not a wooden bow, it's a crossbow.'

This wasn't just a hunch. The weight and distance of the sound, even the angle, made it easy to tell.

Ran kept his eyes on the front and reached out to grab Jaina by the shoulder. Her body was dragged alongside Ran.

No follow-up shot came right away. Even taking the crossbow's reload speed into account, the interval was long.

'Means they're that much more cautious.'

There was a strong chance the enemy was a skilled sniper.

Ran wasn't about to sit and wait for the enemy to show themselves. While lifting Jaina's corpse, he slowly rose to his feet. His body wasn't completely hidden, but it was enough to draw attention.

Thunk—!

He felt a heavy sensation in the forearm holding Jaina as a shield.

The moment Ran threw Jaina's body aside, he kicked off the ground and leapt onto the saddle.

"Hyah!"

Pulling the reins hard, the horse reared and dashed away like an arrow.

He roughly pinpointed the enemy's location from the previous shot, but didn't charge directly. Instead, he veered away at an angle, circling around.

'Come on, show me your head a bit more.'

All his senses sharpened. He tracked every minor movement in his forward vision.

The hint came quickly. One side of the brush rustled awkwardly, and nearby, something briefly glinted. Ran buried his head in the horse's mane.

Swishh—!

An arrow sliced over his head. As Ran straightened, he hurled a dagger retrieved from Jaina before.

"Keurgh!"

A scream erupted, and the grass nearby rustled noisily. One last enemy revealed himself.

Now that Ran had full knowledge of their numbers and locations, nothing held him back.

He sprang from his running horse in a straight line.

"Wh-what the—aaah!"

The fleeing man glanced back and recoiled in terror, as if a giant flying squirrel were descending on him. He swung his sword in panic. It happened in a flash. The man could barely believe his eyes—Ran spun in a dazzling roll. Then there was a heavy blow, and his vision shook. He hadn't even realized what hit him. As he collapsed backward, he barely managed to stagger upright.

"Damn it! Damn it!"

The pain was secondary—his vision flickered as if a lamp were blinking on and off. Rapping his temple with his palm, bit by bit he regained sight.

He swallowed hard again. Some human wearing a bird-beak mask was rummaging through his fallen companion's body.

"Drop the sword. Let's talk."

Ran picked up the crossbow, inspected it carelessly, straightened a loosely notched bolt, and drew it at the man.

"I've got nothing to say to you bastards!"

The man gripped his sword tighter. His back grew cold and his legs shook. With repeated brushes with death, people develop a sixth sense.

Running isn't possible. Today is the day I die.

His breathing grew harsh.

"I'll be brief, then. I want to meet your leader."

The man's surprise was plain on his face.

Everyone knew the Holy Church's Special Unit was hunting revolutionaries like rats to exterminate them.

"Huh, what?"

He let out a disbelieving chuckle—not because of the brazen request, but because, for a fleeting moment, he wondered if Ran had another agenda. The very idea that he'd been tricked like that was absurd.

'A sincere voice, free of killing intent.'

He clutched the sword hilt with both hands, gritting his teeth and glaring at Ran.

Holy Church's Special Unit inquisitor.

He recalled his comrades lost to them—too many to count.

"'So-called Astana Revolutionaries. In reality, a most heinous group of heretics.'"

Ran spoke in a flat tone. Crossbow raised, he approached slowly.

The man raised his sword in reply, backing up.

The distance between them narrowed to five paces when Ran spoke again.

"I don't know why you've suddenly gotten active after lying low during the height of the war. But it doesn't matter. I just want to meet your leader and talk. Will you guide me?"

The man wanted to cover his ears. Overthinking led to hesitation. As he noticed Ran step forward, he thrust his sword straight out.

Again, it happened in the blink of an eye. Ran twisted aside, dodged, then dropped the crossbow and wrapped both arms around the man's. With just a little pressure, there was a sickening crunch.

The man dropped his sword with a cry. Ran caught him by the hair.

"'The Lord saith, distinguish between courage and recklessness. What of meaningless acts?'"

A bad feeling flashed through him. Ran quickly gripped the man's jaw. Blood trickled over his leather gloves; the man's eyes rolled back, showing only whites.

'Damn!'

Ran looked toward a large nearby tree. Its thick leaves rustled—not from wind or wildlife.

Even while confronting this man, Ran had kept half an eye on the treetop. There was someone else. Their mask had concealed them, but Ran had watched both the man and the tree by turns.

Ran, mad dog that he was, began the pursuit.

* * *

Through the woods, up mountain paths, and ascending a hill. The unknown foe seemed unaware they were being trailed, leaving traces behind.

'Quick on her feet, but careless.'

The tail lasted half a day.

Following a slope, Ran stopped, shaking his head with a wry smile. Footprints were stamped clearly into the soggy ground. Following them by sight, he saw a village ahead.

'Sheesh. So careless, really.'

Ran placed his foot beside the print. The length, width, and depth were all much smaller than his.

'A woman?'

He followed them, soon coming to a beaten path. Two stone pillars topped with a shoddy watchtower stood side by side.

'Lucerne Village.'

More famous for the Battle of Lucerne. During the height of the civil war, the rebels had surged to the very edge of the capital, Gerinhild. Lucerne was the Imperial Army's final line of defense.

After a siege lasting several days, the rebels took Lucerne; it was later retaken, but the place remained a symbol of disgrace for the Emperor's forces.

"What brings the Special Unit to such a humble place, and without notice!"

"It's good to see you again, High Priest Boras."

Boras and Ran faced each other and pressed their palms; the traditional mainland clergy's greeting.

Ran removed his mask for the first time in a while.

"Inquisitor Ran! I hear tales of your exploits so often it's wearing holes in my ears. If I were to exaggerate a bit, I could say there's a new story every time I open my eyes!"

"I only carry out the Lord's will."

"Ah, amen."

Boras pressed his palms together again, closing his eyes—then suddenly sneezed. He carelessly wiped the thick mucus with his finger and smeared it on his priestly robes.

Ran frowned. Such behavior was unthinkable in Quersa.

'I've seen worse.'

He regained his composure and kept his expression in check. Boras grinned sheepishly.

"I offer up prayers every day but the Lord still withholds warmth from Lucerne. Clearly, he finds this accursed land distasteful."

Ran followed Boras to the old mansion of Lucerne's former lord. On the way, he looked around. The marks of battle still remained here and there. The people all looked lifeless. The whole town was bleak and dreary.

"Postwar recovery must be slow."

"The civil war's not truly over yet, so we can't just demand more manpower."

The war had claimed many lives, regardless of status. The entire family of the old Lord Lucerne had been executed by the rebels. Many manors shared that fate. Those who had distinguished themselves in battle were eagerly awaiting redistribution of titles and lands. Until then, senior Church officials dispatched by the mainland would govern the estates.

"So, inquisitor. What brings you to Lucerne?"

"Our Special Unit's mission is confidential. You know that."

"Ehh, come now. No need to be so formal."

Boras tapped Ran's forearm. Ran just stared down at him. Age spots crowded his cheeks like mold on cheese, and it was hard to look for long—Ran turned away. No need to create tension for no reason.

"A defector fled north through the mountain path. Since I was on the way, I thought I'd drop by to see you."

"Ah, a defector in times like these."

"I intend to bring salvation personally."

"Amen! Amen! Lord, illuminate the path of your agent of divine wrath."

Boras hosted a meal for Ran, proudly showing off the sumptuous dishes.

The Special Unit mainly handled internal security and personnel management of the Holy Church. Ran's own Section 3 was a bit different, but still under the same banner—no reason to draw trouble. Better to make a good impression and earn some credit.

"I hoped for the day our inquisitor would visit, and I have something ready."

He clapped; a maid entered carrying a bottle of wine, so large she hugged it with both arms.

Boras looked at the maid with disapproval.

"Where is Hilda and what's she been doing? I haven't seen her all day."

"Um, well, I'm not sure, sir—?"

He watched Ran's face, but Ran wasn't interested, keeping his focus on cutting meat.

"I'm sorry, High Priest!"

A breathless voice; a young woman in a maid's uniform ran up to Boras.

He started to smile in greeting, then scowled.

"Hilda! You little—?"

He started to scold her, but stopped when his eyes met Ran's. Even if he looked inattentive, Boras knew well that Special Unit agents were different beneath the surface. No need to behave like the actual lord.

Ran glanced dully back and forth between Boras and Hilda, then popped a piece of meat into his mouth.

"H-ha. I suppose you must have been busy preparing for our honored guest, Hilda."

"I'm sorry, High Priest."

"We'll talk later. For now, greet our guest. This is Brother Ran, inquisitor of the Special Unit."

Hilda flinched. Awkwardly, she bowed at her waist to Ran.

Ran acknowledged the greeting with little interest, barely looking up from his meal. Pointing at the food, he spoke faintly.

"There's a nice scent, Hilda."

"Eh? Ah, I-I just took a bath—"

Hearing this, Boras pinched a lock of her hair and sniffed it. The scent came from her damp hair.

"So this is what you've been up to? You think feeling the Lord's touch a few times makes you the mistress of the house?"

Through gritted teeth, he growled, then roughly grabbed her from behind. Hilda's face drained of color as she bit her lower lip.

Ran smirked with only one cheek.

Clearing his throat, Boras nodded toward the wine bottle.

"Pour for our guest."

Hilda filled Ran's glass. It was red wine. In Quersa, they drank white wine, believed to purify the mind and body.

Ran gripped the glass by the neck and swirled it gently. The red wine clung to the glass and trickled down. He drank it in one gulp, swishing it around before swallowing.

"Nice."

"Heh. This is a rare wine inherited by the late Count Lucerne from his ancestors. Drink up."

The tartness was strong enough to make his mouth pucker. Mainland clergies believed red wine to be the blood of Asriel.

'A toast with the Lord's blood.'

Ran grinned at the thought, picking his teeth with a finger.

While Boras savored a mouthful with a pleased expression, he leaned closer and murmured slyly:
"Tonight, rest well and shake off that travel fatigue."

* * *

Night had fallen deep. Boras provided Ran with a bedroom in the mansion. After a long hot bath, Ran lay on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh. He felt as if a burden had left his shoulders.

"Hoo..."

He tried closing his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. For him, exhaustion and drowsiness were two separate things.

Knock, knock.

Ran sat upright at the knock. He wasn't expecting anyone. With a puzzled look, he opened the door.

Hilda stood there.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Was it Hilda that Ran was following?
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】