Chapter 58
"Peaceful, isn't it."
It was peaceful.
Peace had come to the North, which had rarely seen a calm day due to the swarming demonic beasts.
While the end of the war was one reason, an even bigger factor was that the orcs who had been coveting the North had used the demonic beasts as food, causing their numbers to plummet drastically.
A North without demonic beasts was merely a bit cold, making it an exceedingly peaceful time for the residents.
Though they had been immersed in weeping from the grief of losing their families for a while, as time passed, they were helping each other and mustering strength to live on diligently again.
"Good."
I said while looking at Jeyvarshu.
Repairing the collapsed walls.
The residents shared food with the soldiers and marched forward with vigorous steps.
The work may seem arduous, but their complexions weren't too bad.
They lived steadily toward tomorrow.
That sight was quite pleasing to see.
"Not bad."
Most of my actions were for the sake of quests, but thinking that it had helped their lives made a corner of my chest swell with pride for no reason.
"Right? Everyone is singing your praises, my lord."
It was Brance.
He had come running huffing and puffing as soon as he heard that Callias had awakened, shedding tears and mucus just an hour ago.
Volunteering as a guide, he added explanations about the situation here and there from beside me.
"Ah! It's Lord Callias!"
"It's the war hero!"
Children called him a hero as they looked at him, and residents walking on the road placed their hands on their chests and bowed politely.
The sight of them avoiding and shunning him during his scoundrel days overlapped in his mind.
Between them before.
And the way they looked at him now, there was a clear difference in their expressions.
He felt a sense of a completely different world.
"Get lost, you brats."
Even though he could have replied a bit more kindly.
The characteristic of a count house's scoundrel really ruins the moment even at times like this.
But what could he do.
That was just who Callias was.
As he watched the children screaming and running away with satisfaction, Brance spoke in a subtle tone.
"About those children."
"What about them."
"They were receiving instruction in Lord Bernard's swordsmanship. Perhaps because they all saw and felt something during the Northern war, they're learning quite diligently."
A man whose body wasn't even whole, teaching in that state.
"How is the old man doing?"
"He's healthy. After lying down for a day or two, he said his body was stiff..."
Despite losing one arm, the paladin's physical abilities hadn't gone anywhere, as he seemed to be getting around fine.
It was fortunate that his health wasn't bad, but there was no helping the bitter taste in his mouth.
Because Bernard had sacrificed one arm to buy time, he was able to kill that guy. However, for a paladin who had wielded a sword his entire life, losing an arm was the same as losing his life's purpose.
A corner of his heart felt heavy, as if it were somehow his fault.
'If only I had holy water, I would have at least tried to reattach it.'
Unfortunately, there was no holy water.
He did have unrefined troll's blood, but reattaching an arm with that would be difficult.
Hearing the story, they had already cauterized the wound with fire for emergency treatment.
Even with holy water, reattaching a severed limb was difficult.
"Where is he right now?"
"Probably in the prayer room, I'd say."
Prayer room.
"I see. There must be quite a few people whose hearts were wounded by the war."
There would be a lot of work to do.
Other than that, Allen, or Aron.
Knights like Orphin and others were also busy day by day with their respective tasks—repairing the walls, dealing with abandoned supplies and missing persons, and recovering the remains of the fallen.
Even though the war was over, there was a mountain of work to do.
"Looks like I'm the last one."
The number of fallen soldiers this time was in the thousands.
Delivering their remains to the embrace of their families and recovering them was no easy task.
"I should help too."
"That won't be necessary."
"Why not?"
"Those guys came and are helping with that work on their own."
"Ah, 'those guys' you mean."
It was then.
They say even a tiger appears when you speak of it.
A truly unpleasant fellow had appeared.
"My, if it isn't Lord Callias. Is it really alright for you to be moving about already?"
The symbol of the Order.
A cloak symbolizing the Inquisition, emblazoned with crossed red swords.
Though he spoke with a smiling face, I knew full well that his attitude was insincere.
"As you can see."
Another ally who came to the North, or perhaps an uninvited guest—I couldn't be sure.
It was the Inquisitor, Raiben.
"I see. Ah, you will certainly be attending tonight's banquet, won't you, Lord Callias?"
"Was there such a thing?"
"Yes, I also heard vaguely that they would be hosting guests tonight."
It was likely a banquet to commend the Inquisition fellows who had helped in the war.
Since I had also awakened, it was probably a banquet held both to reward the help received in the war and to celebrate.
"I'll go if I can."
"I definitely want to hear the story of the war hero. There are other matters I'd like to discuss as well... Then."
With that farewell of seeing him at the banquet later, Raiben disappeared.
Callias clicked his tongue.
Akasha spreading poison.
Yechel's Inquisitor Raiben.
Raiben du Valus.
"Stalker-like bastard."
"I never dreamed they would come all the way here either."
Callias didn't know either.
If he hadn't seen them while flying to the battlefield, he would have been quite startled.
"Didn't you inform them?"
"No way! I can't stand those guys either. I couldn't even sleep properly for a while because I was being chased around by them. Just thinking about it now makes my blood boil..."
True enough.
Even one of those guys was annoying enough, but to bring two more captains?
"They definitely came to capture me."
Knowing I was in the North, they must have requested support, intimidated by Zerban's reputation.
But they couldn't help but assist in the war situation in the North.
No matter how much their role was to find and interrogate heretics, it would be strange not to draw their swords when barbarian tribes believing in foreign gods were right before their eyes.
It was essentially helping by accident.
"Even so, the North doesn't have money, so I don't know what they'll use to take care of them as well."
"The North doesn't have money?"
"What do you think the North can do? It's a barren land where it snows all four seasons."
Because of the demonic beasts, they couldn't even make it a tourist destination, and the crop called Nogoja that grows from the barren land had neither good taste nor nutrition.
The only things that could be called local specialties were medicinal herbs and byproducts of the demonic beasts.
Still, because there were many demonic beasts, selling their byproducts to the Order or the kingdom was the North's only source of income.
"Hmm."
Money.
The North would continue to be exposed to considerable danger in the future as well.
The orcs lost many numbers this time, so they wouldn't be a concern for a while, but the Imperial army was different.
To those trying to subjugate Karpe, the North was nothing but a thorn in their side, so another war could break out at any time.
The North's Zerban, also called the pillar of Karpe, had been famous since long ago.
"If only we had money, it would be easy to replenish the destroyed military strength."
The main forces of the North were returning from the kingdom, but even with them, the damage from this war was significant.
To replenish the sacrificed knights and soldiers, a lot of time and funds were needed.
'The only thing that can reduce time is money, and the North has limited means of earning it, so it's difficult.'
However.
Callias knew.
A way to make big money.
'In the North, there are piles of unprocessed orc corpses like mountains.'
And in the North, hundreds of priests from the Order were stationed.
"They're bastards who torment me when I've done nothing wrong, so it wouldn't matter if I played a little trick on them."
* * *
"How was it?"
"Ordinary. With the manner of speech and arrogance typical of nobles."
A typical noble.
Of course, outwardly he possessed the most noble-like appearance among all nobles, but.
Raiben adjusted his glasses and looked at the gathered individuals.
Third Division Captain.
Orkal du Valus.
Sixth Division Captain.
Druma du Valus.
And Fifth Division Captain.
Raiben du Valus.
The three captains including himself had gathered in the guest room prepared inside Jeyvarshu's inner castle.
Three out of seven captains were gathered. All were Spirit Sword owners, and they were captains of the Inquisition whose strength and devotion had been proven within the Order.
"You know that's not what I'm asking. Other than that?"
"...I couldn't really gauge the level of his divine power. The aura I felt was minimal."
The level of divine power was minimal.
It was enough to make one wonder if the rumors of his great exploits in the war were fabricated.
Let alone the Orc Warlord.
Only the aura of an ordinary knight who would have likely lost even against a Great Warrior was felt.
"Minimal? To what extent?"
"The amount felt was Grade 4."
Neither the quantity nor quality of divine power determined a knight's strength, but...
Grade 4 was the level of an ordinary knight.
"What, only that much?"
If the amount of divine power was small, the time it could enhance physical abilities was short, and the magnitude of amplification was also small.
If the grade of divine power was high, overall physical specs increased.
No matter how great the swordsmanship, without the physical abilities to support it, it was just child's play.
"How about its purity?"
"The purity wasn't bad. But even so, it would only be Grade 3 at best."
"Wasn't the Warlord a guy who was one step away from being a Master? I thought he'd be incredibly strong since he killed such a guy, so what is this?"
"That means rumors aren't to be trusted."
"No, no, all the soldiers and knights who fought on the battlefield said so, didn't they?"
They said if it weren't for Callias, this war would have been marked by defeat.
"It's not like they were all under hypnosis."
"We saw it too. That sight was certainly devout enough."
"Hmm."
The scene they had seen directly still wouldn't easily leave their minds.
They had seen the Warlord dead, and Callias bleeding while surrounded by many knights in front of the corpse.
There were traces of what appeared to be a tremendous fierce battle everywhere, and the knights on the battlefield were even shedding tears.
If they had only heard it in words, they might not know.
But since they had seen it themselves, it was ambiguous to simply dismiss it as a lie.
"Still, Raiben, you couldn't have seen it wrong. If he's weak, can't we just take him away?"
It was Orkal, the Third Division Captain.
A young man with an youthful face and rather curly brown hair.
With a youthful appearance that could almost be mistaken for a boy, he looked innocent, but he was an Inquisition captain with a cruelty more vicious than anyone.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you mean 'what do you mean.' Is this our first or second time doing something like this? Even if the opponent is a noble, the Inquisition's job is to root out heresy."
"But there is no evidence."
Who wouldn't know that.
However, there was no evidence.
Furthermore, Callias was the eldest son of Zerban, one of Karpe's Four Great Noble Families.
Without any evidence, he couldn't be detained based solely on suspicion.
"If there's no evidence, then we can just create it."
The Sixth Division Captain with a deep voice.
Druma.
When the taciturn man who matched his voice opened his mouth, there must be some sharp solution.
"What do you mean?"
"Isn't it originally because his swordsmanship level, which was merely that of a dunce, rose sharply that we suspect him of heresy in the first place?"
That's right.
He possessed a holy relic.
Whatever it was, he had changed from being the kingdom's greatest dunce and worst scoundrel.
To the point where he could be called a completely different person.
His swordsmanship level, which should never have changed, had risen sharply, so it was certain.
To possess such a great holy relic and not report it to the Order was heresy.
'But his status is an obstacle to forcing an interrogation...'
If only this weren't Zerban.
If only he were still a scum-like scoundrel, I wouldn't be agonizing like this. But Zerban was alive, and worse, they couldn't forcibly take away the hero who had protected the North.
"Then if we make him an Inquisitor, the problem would disappear."