Sword Pilgrim - Chapter 58

“It’s peaceful.”

It was peaceful.

As the land seething with beasts became calm, peace came to the North.

The end of the war was one reason, but the bigger reason was that the beast population throughout the northern lands had plummeted due to the invading orcs using them as food.

Without the presence of the beasts, the only problem the North faced was just a little cold, so it was a time of perfect peace for the residents.

Although they mourned the losses of their families for a while, as time passed, they had started helping each other and regaining the strength needed to live such hard lives.

“That’s good.”

He said while looking at Jevarsch.

The collapsed walls were being repaired.

The villagers were milling about, distributing food to the soldiers, their footsteps bold and confident.

The work might’ve looked arduous, but their faces didn’t look too bad.

They were marching steadily towards tomorrow.

It was quite nice to see.

“Not bad.”

Most of his actions had been for the sake of his quests, but thinking that it’d helped them in their lives, a corner of his heart felt proud.

“Isn’t it? Everyone is praising master.”

It was Bruns.

As soon as he’d heard the news about Callius being awake, he’d jumped up and rushed back in tears. That had been an hour ago.

Taking upon himself the role of a guide, he was updating Callius on the situation here and there.

“Ah! It’s Master Callius!”

“The war hero!”

The children called him a hero when they saw him, and the locals he met on the road put their hands on their chests and greeted him politely.

The images superimposed with his memory of being shunned and avoided, during his days as a maniac.

Compared to before –

Their faces now told a different story.

He felt a sense of exasperation welling up.

“Lay off, you little brats.”

He wished he could respond with something better.

Even now, the characteristic, Scapegrace of the Count Family, was proving to be really irritating.

But what could he do?

That’s just who Callius is.

As he gazed at the children happily screaming and running away, Bruns said with a subdued tone.

“These children.”

“What?”

“They’ve started studying swordsmanship with Master Bernard. They’ve all seen and felt various things during the Northern War, so they’re trying pretty hard.”

And is that old sir in good enough shape to go about teaching people right now?

“How is that old man faring?”

“He’s healthy. He was lying in bed for a day or two, so his body is sore.”

Even though he’d lost an arm[1], the paladin seemed to have recovered enough physically to move around.

Callius was glad the man was in good health, but he still couldn’t help but feel bitter.

He was able to kill the enemy because Bernard gave him time by sacrificing an arm. However, for a paladin who’d been holding a sword all his life, losing a hand was no different than losing his whole life.

A seed of guilt had nestled in his heart, making it heavy.

‘If I had some holy water left, I would’ve tried attaching it once.’

Unfortunately, not a drop of it was left.

Although he had crude troll blood, it’d be tough to use that for attaching a severed arm.

From what he’d heard, the wound had even been burned before being bandaged and given first aid.

Even with holy water, it’d be difficult to re-attach the amputated part after that.

“Where is he now?”

“Probably in the prayer room.”

The prayer room.

“I see. There must be quite a few people who’ve been left shattered by this war.”

There had to be quite a lot of work still to be done.

Other than that, there were Allen and Aaron.

Orphin and the other knights were repairing the walls, collecting abandoned food and looking for missing persons. And the two were also busy with their own work, collecting the remains of the fallen.

Although the war was over, there were many things left to do.

“Guess I came late.”

The dead numbered in the thousands.

It was no easy task to gather their remains and deliver them to the friends and family of the deceased.

“I’ll help out too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Why?”

“They decided on their own to come and help out.”

“Ah, you mean ‘those bastards’.”

That was then.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A very bothersome guy appeared.

“Isn’t it Master Callius? Are you already well enough to move?”

Wearing a symbol of the Church.

A cloak that symbolized the Heretic Inquisitors, engraved with the symbol of the crossed twin swords.

He spoke with a smile, but his attitude was barefacedly pretentious.

“As you see.”

Callius couldn’t be sure if it was actually an ally or an uninvited guest, who’d arrived at the North.

It was Inquisitor Ryburn.

“That’s right. Oh, I’m sure Master Callius will be attending this evening’s dinner as well.”

“Is there something like that?”

“Yes, I heard somewhere that the guests would be treated tonight.”

Perhaps it was a banquet to commend the Inquisition, who’d helped in the war.

Callius himself had also awakened, so the dinner Ryburn was referring to was probably being held to repay the help received in the war.

“I’ll attend if I can.”

“I’d love to hear more about the story of a war hero. There are also some other words to share… Then, see you.”

After saying farewell and that he hoped to meet again at dinner, Ryburn slowly disappeared in the distance.

Callius clicked his tongue.

Poisonous Akasha.

Steel Justice Heretic Inquisitor, Ryburn.

Ryburn du Valus.

“He’s like a stalker.”

“I never dreamed that they would come this far.”

Callius hadn’t, either.

If he hadn’t seen them on his way to the battlefield, it’d have been one big surprise.

“Did you tattle on me?”

“No way! I hate them too. They chased us so hard we couldn’t even sleep for a while. You’ve been chased after not sleeping properly for a while because of them. I still get mad just thinking about it.”

True enough.

And now that already annoying guy had two other captains tagging along.

“He must’ve come here to arrest me.”

Knowing that Callius was in the North, he’d probably been afraid of Jervain’s reputation and had asked for support.

But he’d had no choice but to help the North during the war.

No matter how much their role was to find and interrogate heretics, it’d have been strange for them to not raise their swords when facing barbarian savages who believed in foreign Gods.

The helping part was mostly accidental.

“I don’t know how they’re going to be rewarded for their help, since the North has no money.”

“Doesn’t the North have money?”

“Just look at the place. It’s a barren land where it snows all year round.”

Because of the beasts, it can’t attract tourists, and the crops grown in this barren land do not have much taste or nutrition to speak of.

The only special regional products are medicinal herbs, and by-products of magical beasts.

Still, there’s a huge population of magical beasts, and selling their by-products to the Church or the kingdom is the main source of revenue.

“Hmm.”

If it’s money –

In the future, the northern lands will get exposed to quite a lot of danger.

The orcs have been largely decimated this time, so there’s no need to worry about them for a while, but the Imperial Army is a different matter.

The North is like a thorn in the eye of those trying to subjugate Carpe, so you never know when another war might break out.

Jervain of the North has long been famous as the Pillar of Carpe.

“If there’s money, it’ll be easy to replenish the lost manpower.”

Although the main forces of the North are returning from the borders, even taking them into account, this war has caused great damage.

It’ll take a lot of time and money to replenish the ranks of the knights and soldiers who’d been sacrificed.

‘The only way to save time is money, and it’s difficult because there’re few ways to earn money in the North.’

But.

Callius knew.

How to make a great sum of money.

‘In the North, orc corpses are now piled up like a mountain, unattended.’

And there were hundreds of priests of the Church stationed here.

“They’re the ones who tormented me even though I’m innocent, so it’s fair that they should pay a price.”

“How was it?”

“It was normal. He had the typical tone and arrogant behaviour of a noble.”

It was typical of nobility.

Of course, he had the most noble appearance among all nobles.

Ryburn straightened his glasses and looked at his companions.

Captain of the third squad.

Orcal du Valus.

Captain of the sixth squad.

Druma du Valus.

And finally, himself, the captain of the fifth squad.

Ryburn du Valus.

All three were gathered in the guest room inside the Jevarsch Fortress.

Three of the seven captains were gathered. All of them were spirit sword bearers, and they were the leaders of the Heretic Inquisition, who had a proven record of strength and faithfulness within the Church of Valtherus.

“You know I’m not asking that. Other than that?”

“… I don’t know about his level of divine power. The energy I felt was minimal.”

The level of divine power was minimal.

Rumours that he had made an outstanding performance in the war seemed to have been false.

Forget about the level of an orc commander.

He could only feel the energy of an ordinary knight who might even lose to a great warrior.

“It was insignificant? To what extent?”

“The amount I could feel was around the fourth grade.”

Although the quantity or quality of divine power did not alone determine the strength of a knight…

Level four was the level of a regular knight.

“What, that’s all?”

The smaller the amount of divine power, the less could be used to strengthen your physical ability, and the smaller the amplification.

The higher the level of divine power, the higher the overall physical specifications.

No matter how great a swordsmanship he possessed, if he didn’t have the physical ability to support it, it was just a joke.

“How was the purity?”

“Purity wasn’t bad. But if I had to say, it was around third grade.”

“But didn’t he win one-on-one against the warlord? I thought he was really strong, because he killed that kind of a guy.”

“You can’t believe rumours.”

“No, no, all the soldiers and knights who fought on the battlefield were like that, right?”

Had it not been for Callius, this war would have ended with a shameful defeat.

“I don’t think they’re all hypnotized.”

“We saw it too. Certainly, it was a scene worthy of veneration.”

“Hmm.”

The scenery they’d seen in person still hadn’t easily faded from their minds.

They saw the warlord dead on the ground, and in front of him, surrounded by many knights, the bleeding form of Callius.

There were traces of a huge battle, and the knights on the battlefield shed tears.

It was different from just listening to it afterwards.

It was difficult to dismiss what they’d seen as a lie.

“Still, Ryburn, you probably didn’t make a mistake. If he’s that weak, can’t we just take him with us?”

It was the captain of the third squad, Orcal.

A man with curly brown hair and a youthful appearance.

At first glance, he looked young and naive, but he was the one with the cruellest disposition among the heretic inquisitors.

“How do you mean?”

“How else? Have we done something like this just once or twice? Even if the opponent is a nobleman, the task of an inquisitor is to root out heretics.”

“But there’s no evidence.”

Everybody knew that already.

However, there was no clear evidence.

Besides, Callius was the eldest son of Count Jervain, one of the four great nobles of Carpe.

It was impossible to arrest him on suspicion alone without any evidence.

“If there’s no evidence, we can create it.”

The captain of the sixth squad said with a deep voice.

Druma.

When he, who was usually reticent to speak, opened his mouth, it had to be something useful.

“How do you mean?”

“Didn’t the suspicions of heresy come about because his swordsmanship suddenly rose sharply, although he was known to be a talentless dullard?”

Right.

Callius must’ve gotten his hands on a holy relic.

Something that changed him, who had been the most untalented dullard in the kingdom.

It could be said that he was now a completely different person.

There was no doubt that his level of swordsmanship talent, which was innate and impossible to change, had risen sharply.

Even though he found such a great relic, he did not report it to the Church, so it was heresy.

‘But his identity is an obstacle to proceeding with the interrogation… ‘

If this place hadn’t been the domain of Jervain.

At the very least, if he’d still been the old piece of trash, they wouldn’t have had to worry about it. The Jervain still lived, so it was impossible to forcefully arrest the hero who’d protected the North.

“Then make him an inquisitor, and the problem will go away.”

Editor’s Notes:

[1] We really suspected and re-checked while translating the fight scene, and were convinced it mentioned both hands being severed, but guess it’s time to eat crow.