[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Max]
Chapter 4: An Unexpected Invitation (2)
"..."
Hamel stared at the corpse for a moment, then slowly looked around.
There were no signs of foul play.
No signs of intrusion, no signs of struggle.
Gail, before being a butler, was a skilled mage.
It wouldn't be easy to subdue him silently, and it would be difficult for an outsider to intrude into this temple in the first place.
'Suicide.'
There was no other explanation.
However, the smiling expression...
That was what bothered him.
It was definitely not the expression of a typical suicide victim.
Dab!
Hamel dabbed holy water onto his eyelids.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw the world composed of divine power and mana.
However...
'Nothing?'
Hamel had to frown.
It wasn't the work of a demon.
He couldn't feel any trace of demonic energy from Gail's body.
This was far beyond his expectations.
So, had Gail gone mad?
Perhaps he was threatened.
Or...
"..."
Meaningless assumptions.
Realizing this, Hamel took down Gail's body hanging from the ceiling.
He couldn't leave Gail hanging forever.
Thud!
The rope snapped, and Gail's corpse fell to the floor.
He didn't really feel anything.
He had encountered countless deaths and had become numb to it.
He had simply moved forward, reminding himself that it was for revenge.
By now, the accumulated deaths were too heavy and thick for him to be shocked by a single corpse.
But he was a priest, in name at least.
Slide!
He hadn't forgotten how to pray.
Hamel quietly clasped his hands together.
He knelt with his eyes closed and opened his mouth.
He recited the prayers, praising God and honoring the dead.
Even though it was a meaningless ritual for Hamel, who couldn't handle divine power, he continued praying silently.
His prayer was devout and unwavering.
It was clear that he had been repeating this prayer for a long time.
The prayer of the cleric who called himself half-baked was more perfect than that of any other priest.
After a while, a faint but distinct divine power began to circulate in the room.
Whoosh!
And then, a light burst from Gail's inner jacket pocket.
"What?"
Hamel immediately stepped back, wary, but the yellow light vanished with a twinkle.
He slowly approached Gail and searched his pocket, revealing an object that hadn't been visible before.
"Concealment magic?"
A magic that reveals itself only when certain conditions are met.
The condition was probably divine power.
Hamel opened his palm and examined the object Gail had brought.
It was a familiar-looking ornament.
Hamel immediately recognized what it was.
He couldn't forget the gold ring engraved with the wolfsbane flower pattern.
It was the Gilmore clan's signet ring, a symbol and heirloom of the head of the clan.
***
'I must hurry.'
Hamel left the room and headed straight for the bishop's quarters.
The eastern part of the Empire, Letria.
The Bishop of Letria was one of Hamel's few acquaintances in the Order.
A former exorcist priest himself, he had always been a strong supporter of Hamel.
Step step!
"...Ahem."
"...Hmm hmm."
Hamel was simply walking down the hallway of the temple.
However, the priests who saw him all averted their eyes as if they hadn't seen him.
The already quiet hallway was now filled with an eerie silence.
If their eyes met, they would awkwardly nod their heads, but no one greeted him.
The deacons were afraid of Hamel's cold and impersonal nature, and the priests were uncomfortable with Hamel, who was much younger than them.
And the fellow exorcist priests...
They pitied Hamel.
The genius who shone brighter than anyone else and was full of promise had lost his wings and fallen.
The exorcist priests were disappointed and at the same time, felt sorry for him.
Even with his special ability, fighting demons without divine power was practically suicidal.
At the same time, the exorcist priests were inwardly reluctant to go on missions with Hamel.
Just because they served God didn't mean they were all like God.
Nevertheless, Hamel had survived until now.
Even without companions, he continued his exorcism journey alone.
He didn't know if it was really his father, but at least someone wanted him to return to the mansion.
If that was the case, he would pretend to fall for their provocation.
"There's no problem."
To look into the abyss, he had to step into the abyss.
The bishop, hearing Hamel's answer, paused and let out a long sigh.
Then, as if he had no choice, he made the sign of the cross and said,
"I'll assign a deacon to you and dispatch two additional exorcist priests nearby. Please don't overdo it."
Hamel bowed to the bishop and immediately turned around.
He was tired, but not enough to delay his departure.
'I haven't unpacked my luggage yet, so I just need to take it with me... A horse would be faster than a carriage.'
He was quickly making plans when the bishop muttered quietly behind him as he grabbed the doorknob.
"Even as a priest, there's no need to hide your emotions."
"...?"
At the bishop's words from behind, Hamel turned his head to look at him.
The bishop, receiving Hamel's puzzled gaze, smiled bitterly and said,
"You look like you're about to cry, Hamel."
Only then did Hamel see his reflection in the window.
He didn't know when he last blinked his bloodshot eyes, and his lips were tightly pursed.
It was a familiar expression.
The face of someone who had things to protect, even in grief.
'Ah.'
Only then did Hamel realize the emotions he was feeling.
The death of the nameless newborn.
The death of the butler, Gail.
The deaths of all those he couldn't protect.
And the death of his mother, the beginning of everything.
No matter how accustomed he became, all those things piled up like snow, making him sad, and...
Grit!
...more than that, it made him feel awful.
Hamel clenched his fists tightly at the feeling he hadn't felt in a long time.
It took him quite a while to regain his composure and leave the room.
The sunset, now tinged with red, poured down behind him.
***
The next morning, in front of the Order's temple.
"Oh, hello! It is an honor to meet you!"
"Yes."
Hamel nodded slightly at the deacon.
He was a striking boy with blond hair and golden eyes.
Dressed in pure white priestly robes that suited him well, he was holding the reins of two horses.
After pondering the situation for a while, Hamel finally remembered.
Apparently, this boy was the deacon the bishop had assigned to him yesterday.
'This is unexpected.'
Hamel stared at the boy.
On average, deacons had to graduate from theological college, so it was safe to assume that the minimum age was 25.
But the deacon in front of him was clearly only 15 years old at most.
Was he a special case like himself?
Hamel had to pause for a moment to choose his words in this unexpected situation.
"What's your name?"
"Antonio, Priest-nim!"
The boy's eyes sparkled as he looked at Hamel.
Not now, but in the past, there were often people who looked at Hamel with such eyes.
Eyes filled with admiration.
Hamel found such gazes burdensome.
Before, now, and it would likely be the same in the future.
He would rather be mocked.
But this too was something he could endure.
Hamel greeted him without showing his discomfort.
"I'm Hamel Gilmore. Pleased to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine, Priest-nim!"
Antonio bowed deeply to receive the greeting, and books and various tools tumbled out of the bag he was carrying.
"Oh, uh? S-sorry. I'll clean this up right away... Ah, wait a minute!"
While the deacon was flustered, the horses became restless and finally slipped from his grasp.
The deacon stammered, looking back and forth between the fleeing horses and the scattered belongings.
Hamel swallowed a sigh, trying not to let it show, and replayed the bishop's words in his mind.
'He's an outstanding child. He expressed his desire to work with you, Hamel. Please keep an eye on him.'
While Antonio was picking up the items, Hamel caught the runaway horses and calmed them down.
"...He's not one to give empty praise."
Hamel muttered, returning with the horses, doubting the bishop's assessment.
Hearing this, Antonio tilted his head.
"What do you mean?"
"It's nothing."
Shaking his head, Hamel extended his hand to Antonio, who had tightened the straps of his bag.
"I heard from the bishop. You're in the middle of taking the priestly examination."
"Yes! Only the last part of the exam, the Path of Exorcism, remains."
The deacon, taking his hand and standing up, answered vigorously.
The Path of Exorcism.
It was the final test that deacons underwent to receive the priesthood.
To perform a mission with an exorcist priest or a priest and confront a demon.
The supervising priests who accompanied them evaluated whether they passed or failed.
That's why he was puzzled.
"Why me?"
[Translator - Peptobismol]
[Proofreader - Max]