Chapter 13: She Said She Wouldn't
"Hey, miss—mind turning off the high beams? You're about to blind me here."
Shielding his eyes with one hand, Steven called out to the girl standing in the middle of the road.
He wasn't sure how the thing in her hand—something that looked more like an old medieval oil lamp—was blasting out light like a modern floodlight. But then again, considering his own torch was strong enough to light up forever, he figured he shouldn't be the one complaining.
The glare didn't do much to him aside from being annoyingly bright, but the old village chief beside him looked like he was in agony, wincing and shrinking back as if the light were sunlight burning into a vampire's skin.
"The High Inquisitor was right… The people of this village are far too welcoming to the Inquisition. They're definitely hiding something."
Instead of lowering her lantern as Steven had asked, the girl muttered to herself, almost as if confirming some private suspicion.
Her outfit was hard to place—part ceremonial robe, part trench coat—yet it framed her slender, still slightly childish figure. Beneath long strands of silver-white hair, a scar cut viciously across her left eye, marring what would otherwise be a flawless, doll-like face.
On its own, she might have passed for just an eccentric cosplaying kid. But the drawn silver rapier in her hand and the heavy pistol strapped at her waist made it clear that this girl, who looked barely old enough to be called a teenager, was no one to take lightly.
"What is your purpose here? What are you plotting?"
Her voice was sharp, leaving no room for refusal as she stepped forward, lantern raised like a holy torch.
"Damn Inquisition!" The old village chief suddenly roared, unable to endure the searing light any longer. "You're here to drag away our people again, aren't you? You butchers! You thieves!"
Before Steven could even remind the girl that it was extremely rude to shine a light in someone's face while yelling at them, the chief's outburst had already drawn a response.
From nearby houses, villagers poured out in a rush—brandishing hoes, shovels, and whatever makeshift weapons they had. They charged at the silver-haired girl in a chaotic wave.
Thanks to their interference, the light finally stopped stabbing into Steven's eyes.
"Okay, but what the hell is going on?"
The discomfort in his vision was one thing, but what really puzzled him was the situation itself. Why was an Inquisition agent suddenly in this tiny village? And more importantly—since when was the village chief leading people into open resistance?
There was no way three little gold nuggets were enough to buy this kind of loyalty.
"Hurry, come with me!" The old man snapped urgently. "The Inquisition won't spare Ægir folk like you. If you want to live, follow me and escape. That girl's equipment— it's far beyond what ordinary Inquisitors carry. The villagers won't be able to hold her for long."
The screams already echoing from the mob clashing with the girl did lend his words a chilling weight. The girl was moving through them like a wolf through sheep.
Yet to the village chief's surprise, Steven made no move to run. Not even a step.
"See, here's the thing—I'm not an Ægir. So why would I be afraid? They're an official institution, aren't they? That means they have to follow rules, talk things out, all that, right? And if I just run away now, even though I didn't do anything wrong… wouldn't that make me look guilty?"
Steven spoke calmly, logically, and then made a choice that left the old man staring at him in shock.
He took the initiative to walk toward the girl who was still surrounded, even giving her a little wave as if greeting an old friend.
"So, uh, you're with the Inquisition, right? You're here to arrest Ægirs or something?"
Steven condensed all the confusion into a single blunt question, tossing it straight at her.
"Hah? …Ægirs?"
The silver-haired girl frowned mid-fight.
She'd been holding back, afraid of hurting innocent villagers while fending them off, otherwise she would have already broken through.
But his question made her pause. Since when did suspects walk right up to the enforcers and start asking them questions?
It was only then that her eyes really took in Steven—and the girl at his side, Gladiia. Their appearance left no doubt. They were exactly the kind of people the Inquisition had been explicitly warned to pay attention to: Ægirs.
"If you have no sins, then the Inquisition has no reason to arrest you. As long as you've broken no laws, committed no taboo… it doesn't matter if you're an Ægir or not."
She answered him firmly, her voice righteous even though she couldn't quite understand why this boy was acting so bizarrely.
Steven nodded as if satisfied.
"See? She says she won't just grab people at random."
He glanced back at the dazed old chief behind him, explaining seriously—though his words only made the village chief's expression twist further in disbelief. Then, without the slightest thought of running, Steven tugged on Gladiia's hand, keeping her close.
She'd been watching everything with wide, curious eyes.
"You actually believe the Inquisitor's lies?!" The chief's voice cracked with rage. "Once they take you, it's endless interrogation and torture. People they drag away—almost none ever return alive! Don't you understand?!"
Any sane person, faced with this, would already be running for their life. But this boy? He looked like he was on a casual stroll through the countryside.
The chief felt his carefully laid plans teetering on the brink of collapse.
"Uh… no, I didn't believe her," Steven replied, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.
"The problem is… I don't believe you either. You're acting like we're old friends, but I literally just met you today. So why should I ditch her word and put my faith in yours instead?"
He tilted his head, expression open yet mischievous glints flashed in his eyes.
"You say the Inquisition's bad news. But how do I know you're not the one plotting something shady against me?"
Then, with a straight face, he proposed:
"How about this—you two fight it out. Whoever wins, I'll follow. Sounds fair, right?"
He pulled Gladiia a step back with him, giving both sides the stage like a referee introducing the fighters before a match.
By now, the silver-haired girl had finished subduing the last of the villagers blocking her way. Holding her lantern aloft once more, she stepped forward, rapier gleaming in her other hand.
"I've recorded every word you used to slander the Inquisition," she said coldly. "Now then, will you cooperate with our investigation, old man?"
She ignored Steven completely. Her attention was fixed on the frozen, cane-bearing village chief before her—her blade now pointed directly at him.
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M