309. The War of Puppets (6)
Compared to the plains, the night in the forest arrives faster and lasts longer.
Seiri followed Daryan, who walked ahead without a word, lost in her thoughts.
Before the Emperor’s corruption, he was one of the most promising cathedral knights.
A young man with overwhelming talent, so much so that it was hard to believe unless God himself had crafted him. A youth who carried the righteousness of the sun in his heart.
He was as cheerful and warm as the midday sun. She still remembered the day she first met him.
At the training grounds of the “Emperor’s Eyes” deep within the Imperial Palace, he had smiled brightly and said to her:
“Nice to meet you! Good afternoon! I’m Daryan Schryke!”
“Seiri de Ariane. Are you the new ‘Cathedral Knight’ I’ve heard about?”
“Not anymore! Let’s get along well as fellow ‘Emperor’s Eyes’!”
Daryan laughed heartily as he replied. She found his laughter fascinating.
She knew what the Emperor’s Eyes were. A church-affiliated figure wouldn’t normally be pleased with such a position.
The Emperor’s Eyes were assassins.
On the surface, they were the Emperor’s elite guards, but in reality, most of their missions revolved around assassination operations based on intelligence from Iron Side.
The Elector system meant the Imperial authority was never solid. The Electors were beasts created by power, and within their own territories, they held the status of kings.
To maintain the Empire as a single nation, a minimal “line” was necessary. A line that could be called noble duty.
The minimal norms needed to keep the Electors in check and govern them appropriately. That was the Emperor’s Eyes.
If an Elector plotted rebellion? According to Imperial law, there was no norm to suppress an Elector before an actual war broke out. The Electors would consider any intervention in military expansion as interference in their internal affairs.
Even if a war did break out, the rebels could easily transform into “peacekeeping forces” depending on the justification. Noble society was always like that.
The Emperor’s leash in such a den of beasts was information and assassination. Iron Side and the Emperor’s Eyes. If an Elector prepared for rebellion, the Emperor’s Eyes would come for them.
They would never kill the Elector directly. A power vacuum would only bring greater chaos.
Instead, the Emperor’s Eyes would kill those involved in military expansion. Minimal cuts, minimal damage. Maintaining the Empire’s foundation.
Yet, no matter how righteous the outcome, their actions were ultimately assassinations. Not something a cathedral knight should do.
Once, when she asked Daryan about this, he had laughed and said:
“You mean why I’m here?”
“The Captain could have stayed in the church and easily become a knight commander.”
“Right! This is a secret, but the knight commander of the Bright Martyr Church once told me to take over as the next knight commander.”
“But why did the Captain…?”
“The church wanted to build ties with the Imperial family, and the Imperial family coveted my strength.”
Even as he said this, Daryan smiled without a hint of bitterness. Seiri couldn’t say anything.
Before him, there must have been a rosy future. The brightest path a cathedral knight could walk.
The reason he had to give up all that honor and status to become the Emperor’s assassin was because the church he belonged to desired it.
They wanted to plant their faithful in the Emperor’s inner circle.
At that time, the prolonged 50-year war had caused the Imperial authority to steadily decline.
The Emperor needed strong military power, and the church didn’t want to miss this moment when the Imperial authority had hit its historical low.
Under such circumstances, one person’s honor was too light. One person’s life was too easily negated.
Daryan was in that situation, and to Seiri, his laughter being so pure was nothing short of bizarre.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Is there a reason not to laugh?”
“Huh?”
“Does life get any better by being gloomy and serious? Hey, Seiri. In my experience, most problems don’t get solved by worrying. You just… do your best with what’s in front of you.”
“Sounds like something a Shield Church priest would say.”
Even if the sun hides behind dark clouds, even if rain falls and shadows darken, the sunlight will still be there. When the wind blows, the clouds will part, and the sun will surely rise again.
The prayers of the Shield Church’s faithful in the face of hardship often carried that tone. And Daryan, who had been a cathedral knight of the Shield Church, was no different.
“How did it come to this…?”
Breaking free from her thoughts, Seiri silently gazed at Daryan’s back as he walked ahead.
Was it the forest shadows? The shadow falling behind him seemed larger than his frame.
It was as if a mountain range rested on his shoulders.
-Clink.
At that moment, Seiri touched a piece of wood that had suddenly appeared at the edge of the mountain path.
It wasn’t a small shrub or branch. It was a crude carving, as if something had been whittled.
A wooden plank? A stake? Why is this here…?
“What is this…?”
Seiri suddenly stopped and looked at it. It was a grave. A humble tombstone made by carving and sticking a wooden plank into a small mound. Crooked letters were etched into it.
“Armin…?”
“Armin. 7 years old. His last words were, ‘Please save me.'”
Daryan spoke without turning back.
Seiri followed behind him, scanning the surroundings.
In the darkness, things that were clearly not natural could be seen. More and more, densely packed.
Before she knew it, both sides of the narrow mountain path were filled with graves. Some were very small, some were larger, but all had small stakes instead of tombstones.
Wherever her gaze fell, Daryan’s voice followed.
“Ansel. 15 years old. Last words: ‘Lord, it’s too hot.'”
“Meliah, 12 years old. Last words: ‘Merciful God the Father.'”
“Peter, 28 years old. Last words: ‘Take me instead of these children.'”
“Captain…?”
“All of them. They were war refugees.”
Daryan’s voice had turned chillingly cold. Like steel that had long slept in an old armory. A cold, heavy voice, rusted over.
“Refugees. Orphans who lost their parents and wandered as their villages burned, the sick and the weak. I…”
Daryan stopped. Before they knew it, they were standing in front of a small hut in the middle of the graveyard. He stood in front of the hut and turned around.
“After my ‘eyes’ opened, I gathered them first. Children who couldn’t resist the Crusade but were lucky enough to survive. I gathered the refugees so they could survive the madness of the times.”
“This was… a refugee village.”
“One of them, yes.”
Only then did Seiri’s surroundings become clear to her. With no lights in the darkness, it could easily be mistaken for a clearing in the middle of the forest.
But it wasn’t. At the edges of the clearing, there were traces of attempts, however clumsy, to ward off animal intrusions.
The reason she hadn’t noticed these things at first was simple. The boundary of this clearing, no, the entire clearing, had been completely burned down not long ago.
The traces were buried under black ash, and the ashes were covered by moss and weeds grown by the forest.
“Do you know why they had to die?”
“…”
“Because they were ‘runaways.’ Because they were lucky. The priests judged that if they weren’t minions of the demon, they wouldn’t have escaped the stake, and if it wasn’t the demon’s doing, they wouldn’t have survived.”
“That’s…”
“Seiri. Is that really true?”
Seiri couldn’t meet Daryan’s eyes. He was crying.
“Really, was it only the demon who could give them a way to survive? Why couldn’t God, our merciful and glorious God, save them? Because they were truly fallen? Because these children were tempted by the demon and tainted by darkness?”
He poked at the pile of dirt beside a small grave with the tip of his staff. Beneath it, a half-burned holy statue was revealed.
“This child was holding Shield’s holy statue even as the village burned. The reason these children died was because their hometown was ‘a place strongly suspected of corruption.'”
“Captain…”
“I was… too late, Seiri. Too late.”
For what? She didn’t need to ask. She knew. If Daryan had been there, these children might not have died.
A handful of priests and paladins who raided a refugee village could never stop Daryan, who was rampaging in the mountains.
Daryan had served as the Emperor’s Eye for a long time, becoming more adept at ambushes and sabotage than anyone else.
And in another sense. Too late meant…
“So, you should leave.”
We’ve already crossed an irreversible river. You should leave and return to the Imperial Palace. Daryan turned his back again as he said this.
Black darkness, deep shadows, loomed behind him.
Unknowingly, she took a step forward. She couldn’t help it.
She couldn’t pretend not to see the once-brilliant young man fallen into misery overnight.
“Captain. We’re all accomplices.”
“Seiri.”
“If that’s the case, we should have acted first. Before discussing cause and sacrifice, we should have acted first. We were cowards. Under the excuse of orders, we acted like emotionless blades.”
“Seiri…”
“But, did we not have hearts? When we killed people, did we only feel the weight of the blade? Were we just useful tools? Captain. How did it come to this?”
She choked up as she approached Daryan. Her hand touched his cheek.
“Captain, you saved me exactly thirteen times in my memory.”
“Twelve times.”
“One was just now, from the Inquisition Officers. So thirteen times. And you were counting? How petty!”
Seiri forced a laugh, trying to joke. Daryan silently looked into her eyes.
“So I’ll give you a chance. That much. I’ll give you thirteen chances to convince me. After that… let’s convince the world together.”
“I can’t forgive the Church.”
“Not forgiveness, but compromise is possible.”
“The Church won’t forgive me either.”
“Everyone finds the first step hard.”
“There’s no need for you to join me on this hopeless path and suffer together.”
“Using the word ‘suffering’ to the Emperor’s Eye is too disappointing. How many zombies do you think we’ve defeated together so far?”
Seiri kept her voice bright, even as she choked up. Hoping he wouldn’t see her tears.
At that moment, Daryan stiffened and moved her behind him.
“Captain?”
“The Inquisition Officers didn’t come alone.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Come out. Which church are you from?”
Daryan growled, glaring into the darkness of the forest.
Then, with a whistling sound, something sharp flew in. Daryan swung his staff and knocked the object out of the air.
Quarrel. A short crossbow bolt. After briefly looking at the object stuck in the middle of his staff, Daryan gritted his teeth.
“Phaeirn Royal Hunting School?”
“Professor Carlomano Pavilos, at your service. Sir Shrike. Not from the Church, but I’ve taken their request.”
“Right. The Inquisition Office… was inside the Phaeirn Kingdom.”
Towards the voice coming from the shadows of the forest, Daryan slowly turned his body.
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