A Priest's Life as a Villain

Chapter 009

Division leader Bern of 3rd Division understood the importance of information better than anyone. He ensured that the duties of inquisitors did not end with hunting demonic beasts or rooting out heretics; instead, they served double as operatives, capitalizing on their presence throughout the empire.

No individual was off-limits as a target.

Not just heretics—major figures from all factions, or even the royal family itself. The Special Unit was entirely under Bern's palm; he monopolized the mountain of information he accumulated in this way.

Getting hold of this was one of Ran's goals.

"Don't pretend to know everything."

Ran accepted just the meat jerky from Dante, pushing him away.

He already knew in advance that 1st Division's leader would launder kickbacks through a merchant guild. There was only one merchant guild whose movements overlapped. Ran had Dante infiltrate as a mercenary, leading to a natural integration.

'Intelligence.'

Through Bern, Ran had learned the concept of espionage and understood how valuable it could be.

'What if, by some chance, Bern discovers my true identity?'

Fwish—!

A random arrow grazed past Ran. His brief thoughts came to an end.

Priests and mercenaries scurried about the area, struck by arrows and collapsing without time to react.

"Find their position! Spread out!"

"Pri—Priest-chief! If we scatter like this, we'll be wiped out without a chance!"

Martin, hiding behind the carriage, was at a complete loss, his neatly-combed hair now a mess.

Ran crouched low and duck-walked over next to Martin. Martin gave Ran a look, making an effort to ignore him.

Ran spoke casually.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just stay put and keep your mouth shut! It's chaos here!"

"I'll try to draw their attention. Take the opportunity to escape with the group."

Before Martin could reply, Ran lay flat and began to crawl rapidly. Arrows rained down, but he paid them no mind. Martin could only gape at Ran's retreating back.

"Hyah!"

Ran, gripping the reins, wheeled his horse around and charged in the direction from which the arrows were coming. A few priests attempted similar maneuvers, but they were quickly shot down and unhorsed.

The screams that echoed from all directions gradually dwindled. Martin cautiously poked his head out from behind the carriage.

"Priest-chief! Th-they're over there!"

A priest pointed ahead, finger trembling. Martin's pupils widened. The enemy's attacks were now concentrated solely on the charging Ran.

"Is that mad dog a former soldier or something?"

"I heard he's a mercenary from the south?"

Martin barely managed to swallow. The flapping black cloak quickly faded from view. The path behind Ran was littered with missed arrows, so much so it was hard to tell whether he was dodging the arrows or the arrows were avoiding him. It was like watching some kind of divine technique—something courage alone couldn't accomplish.

Covering his damp trousers, Martin issued the evacuation order.

When Ran confirmed that enough distance had been made, he slowed down. The arrows no longer rained down.

As the horse stopped, the bushes ahead rustled all at once. One by one, people poked their heads out.

"They really fired as if they meant to kill, just like I told them not to worry and shoot."

"? Inquisitor."

As Zilla stood up, the Revolutionaries wielding crossbows revealed themselves en masse. Ran checked over his shoulder one more time and then approached Zilla.

"Excellent job, Zilla."

Zilla nodded. Her feelings were complicated. She had launched the ambush exactly as Ran had instructed. He had known that her Revolutionaries wielded crossbows, and he had calculated location, timing, and range with precision.

The ambush was a success, inflicting heavy casualties. This was, in fact, the first time she had achieved such results against the Special Unit.

'He willingly became the bait.'

Ran had kept his promise, positioning himself right in the crossfire. It had been his suggestion to fire without worrying about him—a method to avoid suspicion, she surmised, but still far too reckless.

'I can't believe he got through it unharmed.'

Even while firing the crossbow, she was in disbelief. Several times, she had deliberately aimed at him. He dodged all the arrows without so much as a suit of armor.

Zilla had never seen such trust and uncanny skill before—she felt almost awe.

"Your face doesn't look too happy, Zilla. Wasn't that satisfying?"

"? Next, it's Brinhill, then."

"Right. Move as planned and everything will go smoothly."

Ran glanced at the Revolutionaries standing behind Zilla—a marksman had even been posted on the hilltop.

"Your sharpshooting is truly splendid! Thank you all for your hard work. If you return to camp, you should find supplies left for you. Don't forget to collect them."

Most of them wore the same expression as Zilla. A few, oblivious to the mood, cheered and were scolded by those beside them.

Smiling faintly behind his mask, Ran turned his horse around.

* * *

"Damn it! What the hell are the guards doing? How could something like this happen so close to Gerinhild?"

Martin roared. Less than half the Special Unit survivors made it alive to Brinhill. He looked with concern at the priests who had been wounded.

"Priest Martin! We left most of the merchant guild's supplies behind in our haste! We must recover them at once!"

The merchant leader was full of complaints. They had lost more men than the Special Unit, and factoring in the abandoned supplies, their losses were enormous.

Martin glared at him, teeth clenched.

"Those weren't just common thieves. These are rebel soldiers hiding out in the mountains!"

Shoddy bows wouldn't even reach from an ambush. If well-trained soldiers were intent on hiding in the mountains, there was no way to root them out.

"So! Are you saying we just let them take it all without doing anything? You were boasting about Special Unit protection only moments ago!"

"You damned old fool!"

In his fury, Martin grabbed the merchant leader by the collar. The priests tending the wounded and the merchant laborers unloading the carriage all stopped in their tracks, staring at the two. The chief administrator priest who came out to greet them blinked blankly, unable to grasp the situation.

Sensing the stares, Martin released his grip and awkwardly patted the merchant leader's shoulder—the outburst proved embarrassing even to himself.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

This time, everyone's attention turned toward the sound of approaching hooves.

"Ah, you're safe, priest Martin."

Ran slowly rode up to Martin, his torso swaying rhythmically in the saddle.

A sudden chill ran up Martin's spine. It was hard to believe someone could make it out of that chaos alive.

"?? Thanks to the inquisitor's decision. I'm grateful."

"Haha, it's nothing. It was only possible thanks to the Lord's blessing. Glory to Asriel."

Ran awkwardly made the sign of the cross.

Martin disliked everything about the situation but had little choice. When he shut his eyes tight and murmured an 'amen', all the priests echoed him.

The chief administrator priest of Brinhill interrupted.

"The bird-mask. Would you be Brother Ran?"

"I am indeed, High Priest Ortolio."

"Oh, delighted. I heard of the Lucerne tragedy. I hear you averted a great calamity?"

Ortolio grasped Ran's hand. Public word had spread that the damage was contained only because Ran had detained the demonic beast vessel in advance. If the demonic beast had rampaged in the village, the loss of life would have been catastrophic.

"No, I should have stayed in Lucerne until the end. I don't deserve such praise, High Priest Ortolio."

"Nonsense. Boras is an old schoolmate. I know he's a scoundrel. He abandoned village security out of interest in women. His punishment was the Lord's wrath."

Murmuring "amen" under his breath, Ran met Dante's eyes, who was sitting among the mercenaries. Dante winked and nodded, indicating that everything was proceeding as planned.

Ortolio led Ran and Martin into the manor. The merchant leader, grumbling, followed after them.

Once the servants had brought out tea and only four remained in the room, Ran removed his mask. Martin glanced sidelong at Ran's face.

'He really does look like a woman.'

Martin clicked his tongue and shook his head. Ran ignored him and simply blew on his steaming teacup.

Ortolio cautiously broke the silence.

"I know the Special Unit's activities are confidential. However, with both the chief priest of 1st Division and inquisitor from 3rd Division present, I must ask after your intentions. The atmosphere is tense, after all."

Ran knew that 3rd Division was awash with information about the provisional lords around Gerinhild. He was familiar with Ortolio. He was, at least by Ran's standards, a genuine priest. But by the standards of the mainland Holy Church, which saw any degree of corruption as grounds for heresy, he would rank as virtually a saint.

Ran kept any reaction off his face and pretended to be distracted. Although Ortolio seemed to expect a reply from him, Martin cleared his throat and spoke up.

"We received a tip that there is a Revolutionaries hideout near Brinhill."

At that, Ortolio's eyes widened.

"The Revolutionaries!"

"Yes. We are here to preempt any untoward incidents before the church opening ceremony."

"Goodness. To think there were Revolutionaries for real. We have never experienced even a single blasphemous incident here."

"I apologize if this sounds rude, but I must admit I am quite concerned after arriving here. I even saw several demons along the way. They roam the village openly."

"Priest Martin. What are you trying to say?"

"I mean perhaps you're being too lenient with reactionary heretics."

Bang!

Ortolio slammed the table. Ran and the merchant leader, halfway through their tea, flinched in surprise.

"I don't have time for a long discussion with you, priest. I understand—finish your business quickly and leave Brinhill."

"? May the Lord bless our meeting."

Without looking back, Martin stood up.

Ran watched Ortolio, who was slumped over with his head in his hands.

'High Priest Ortolio.'

There was much he wanted to ask immediately, but this wasn't the time. He gave a respectful bow and followed Martin out.

"Priest Martin, I think it's time you tell me what you're planning."

Martin stopped in his tracks. His jaw clenched audibly as he spun around and strode up to Ran.

"Inquisitor Ran! I don't care what you have to do—just find the hideout as soon as possible. It infuriates me just to know that scoundrels are living in a village run by such an irreverent old man."

"Hmm, well, alright. I'll try. But even if I do find the hideout, are we okay with our current numbers? Wouldn't it be better to wait for reinforcements while we search—"

"Shut up! Inquisitor Ran. I'll let it go today because you did me a good turn, but next time you talk back, consider this your only warning."

This was Martin's worst day so far. He'd narrowly escaped death—wetting his pants in the process—and had been humiliated by a mere merchant. As for that lunatic, demon-sympathizing fellow, he couldn't even protest because of his superior rank.

'I, Martin Sergio, am fated to be Division leader of 1st Division of the Special Unit.'

Success was certain if only he brought this operation to completion. This was the perfect opportunity to prove he hadn't reached this position simply due to family background.

'Any shortfall in numbers can be made up for by mercenaries from the merchant guild.'

Martin blew his bangs out of his eyes.

"When you're told to jump, just jump. Understand?"

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

Ran barely kept the corners of his mouth from twitching upward. Having grown used to wearing a mask, he almost forgot that he was showing his bare face.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Look, it's a rare species of decent priest.
Martin is a pussy.
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】