Chapter 172
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Drops of blood were falling from Inquisitor Metin's mace.
The brute who had charged at Metin was now lying on the ground, his face covered in blood. Letting go of the mace with a clattering sound, Metin finally regained his senses.
'Ah, lost it again in the heat of the moment.'
His vision had gone white, and he had nearly killed a random person for no reason.
The ones he was supposed to kill were not civilians, but heretics and necromancers.
Metin climbed onto the fallen brute and grabbed his bloodied face.
Wuuuuuung!
The man's blood-covered face rapidly began to heal. Metin took out a communication crystal with his other hand and held it up to his mouth.
"This is Inquisitor Metin. All units on standby, please mobilize."
After a brief burst of static, a tired-sounding male voice responded.
—What is it now? Today's not even a working day.
"I think a necromancer has appeared. I definitely caught the scent."
—...
After another short burst of static, the man replied.
—I'll send five your way.
* * *
Buried in the thick crowd, Simon was completely unaware of what was happening around him. It was noisy all around, and as usual in such places, drunken people causing trouble wasn't uncommon.
He figured it was just another fight breaking out somewhere.
'I've bought something to cover my face, and now I need an outfit for travel too.'
After purchasing a mask, Simon's next goal was a robe.
The one he was currently wearing was just a plain brown robe. He had grabbed whatever was lying around at home, but it already had tears and was worn thin.
So he decided it was time to replace it with something decent. He wanted to spend all the 20 million Blancs during this trip, since he wouldn't be able to use the currency once he returned.
Looking around, Simon entered a rather large and luxurious clothing store, rather than a street stall. The elegant shopkeeper greeted Simon with a wide smile.
"I need a priest robe. One with a hood."
At his request, the shopkeeper asked for his identification. As the Holy Federation had a rigid caste system, only actual priests were allowed to purchase priest robes.
'Even buying clothes is restricted by class? This is a bit weird.'
After checking Simon's fake ID, the shopkeeper asked for his measurements, then promptly brought out a white robe from the wardrobe.
It had a clean design without any complex patterns. Since he had to pretend to be an apprentice priest, having a white robe wouldn't be a bad idea.
"And this robe's best feature! You can wear it inside out!"
Fwoosh!
When the shopkeeper flipped the robe, it transformed into a stylish coat. The color remained white.
"And if you channel a bit of mana into it…"
She held a crystal orb in her hand and placed it on the coat, and the entire coat changed to a bluish hue.
"It changes color too!"
"That's impressive."
A robe that could change color and be worn in reverse?
This looked quite useful.
As the shopkeeper enthusiastically explained the material, Simon subtly grabbed the hem of the coat and let a small amount of Darkness flow into it.
'Oh.'
Sure enough, the coat turned black. A white robe inside, and a black coat when flipped inside out. He loved it.
"I'll take this one."
It was a bit pricey since it was a magic item, but Simon was pleased with it.
He paid 2 million Blancs, flipped the robe to the white side, and wrapped it around himself. Feeling satisfied, he stepped out of the store. He still had 18 million Blancs left.
Murmur, murmur, murmur.
But the atmosphere outside felt a bit strange. Simon quickly hid among the crowd. If something had happened, there was only one thing to consider.
"It's the Inquisitors!"
"Move! Get out of the way!"
Amid the growing unrest, a group of priests marched straight through the center of the night market crowd.
They were dragging and holding horrific items—maces, thorny crowns, torture wheels.
With darkened eyes that seemed filled with malice, blood splattered on their white robes, and murderous intent radiating from their entire bodies, they looked like they would tear someone apart if touched.
'…Those are the Inquisitors?'
To Simon, they looked like nothing more than a mob of murderers driven mad by blood.
They were already 'interrogating' several people. Right in front of everyone, they were stuffing people into torture devices. The tortured screamed as if they were being ripped apart.
"Hey, what are you, what are you?"
An inquisitor with a beak-like snout tortured a citizen with a thorny crown as he questioned him.
"You're really not a heretic? Huh?"
"I-I told you so many times… GAAAAAH!"
Witnesses to the horrifying scene tried to quietly back away. The Inquisitors immediately reacted with extreme sensitivity.
"Oh, why are you running? Are you a heretic?"
"Get them. Get them. Get them."
The inquisitors summoned Holiness and leapt into the air, landing amidst the densely packed crowd. Chaos erupted with screams everywhere.
"Don't interfere. Everyone on the ground."
"Come here. Come here."
The inquisitor with the beak-like snout found a woman who had tried to escape and dragged her by the hair through the crowd.
"I-I'm not a heretic! I'm a follower from Rohen Village! I even have my ID here!"
She tearfully held out her ID. The inquisitor glanced at it briefly, then dropped it to the ground and stomped on it.
"A scrap of paper like that. How can we trust that? We interrogate in our own way."
"Kyaaaa! Somebody, please!"
She cried out, but people averted their eyes and stayed flat on the ground, powerless.
'This is…'
Simon's fist clenched tightly.
'This isn't an interrogation.'
It was a brutal terror campaign under the pretense of inquisition. He now understood why people in this place trembled at the sight of priests.
"Get in. Get in."
"No, please!"
The Inquisitor pulled a massive torture wheel from subspace. He shoved the woman into it, strapping down her arms and legs.
Once the wheel turned, the sharp spikes at the back would scrape across her body.
Terrified, the woman screamed.
"Speak. Speak. You're a heretic, right?"
"I-I have only worshipped the Great Goddess since I was born! My parents were Clerics! Please!"
"Can't trust that. Could be makeup or disguise."
The Inquisitor grabbed the wheel.
"If your faith in the Goddess is truly sincere, then you should be able to endure this, right?"
"AAAAH, PLEASE…!"
Simon gritted his teeth.
He wasn't stupid. He knew if he exposed himself here, everything he'd built would be ruined.
'Don't get caught. Only one chance.'
Just as Simon cautiously raised his hand to summon a magic circle—
"Ah—"
The crowd began to part like a wave. The sound of murmuring burst around like fireworks.
"What are you guys doing?"
Simon's eyes widened.
A girl wearing the Efnelle uniform was striding toward the Inquisitors.
'Lete!'
She glanced toward Simon hidden among the crowd, then signaled with her fingers as if to say, "Leave this to me."
The Inquisitors flinched, clearly startled by Efnelle's sudden appearance.
"Hey, you lot."
She spoke in a grim voice.
"You ignoring me?"
"..."
At that moment, among the five Inquisitors, a man wielding a spiked chain scythe casually stepped forward. He looked down at her with overt displeasure.
"We are conducting official duties, Priest."
As his lips parted, jagged, beast-like teeth protruded grotesquely.
"Even if you're from Efnelle, you may not interfere with a heretic inquisition. If you would kindly step aside…"
Thud!
Lete kicked him in the leg. As the man staggered and dropped to one knee, she immediately followed up with a slap to his face.
SMAACK!
The sound of the slap echoed brazenly through the area, where nearly a thousand people had gathered.
"Get up, you bastard."
"..."
The Inquisitor, his cheek now red, glared fiercely at Lete. The junior Inquisitors behind him looked more shocked than angry, and the beak-nosed man grinned dumbly.
"That woman, needs to be interrogated. Strip her, lock her up, tear off her skin…"
"Shut your damn mouth already!"
One of the other Inquisitors smacked him on the back of the head in horror.
The senior Inquisitor who had been slapped slowly rose to his feet.
"No matter how high up in Efnelle you are, this is crossing the line. Whether a dragon or a worm, everything has its role, don't you think? Let us do our work, yes?"
"Why do you think I'm crossing the line?"
Lete chuckled and crossed her arms.
"You guys. Are you even operating under the right jurisdiction and time for a heretic inquisition?"
"..."
The senior Inquisitor's face stiffened slightly. Lete tapped the watch on her wrist.
"If you've come here without upper approval and are torturing residents like this, then we've got a looooot to talk about, don't we?"
"..."
"Should I go through all your schedules, flip everything upside down, and make your supervisor slam his head in apology? Or will you just tuck your tails and get lost now?"
The senior Inquisitor clenched his teeth.
'Other than being Efnelle, her status is just some ordinary priest student brat…'
His gaze shifted. Too many people were watching for him to make a move.
His pride was wounded, but provoking Efnelle further here would be worse. Backing down was the best choice.
"Let's go."
He turned his back as he spoke. The juniors mumbled in confusion, but the senior ignored them.
"Let them all go. We're heading back."
Finally, those being tortured were released. The woman tied to the torture wheel repeatedly bowed her head to Lete.
Lete told her to take care, then moved to heal the injured victims.
'But where's that guy?'
At the same time, the senior Inquisitor was thinking the same thing.
'Where the hell is that bastard Metin who called us here?'
* * *
"Kh!"
Simon ducked his head quickly while running down a marketplace alley. Fangs like those of a beast flew past and embedded themselves in the wall behind him.
"Found you! Source of the stenchhhh!"
Suddenly, some lunatic was attacking, claiming he smelled something foul.
Simon quickly ran off, while the lunatic shoved and tossed people aside as he chased. Some kind of Holy Magic was generating fangs midair and firing them everywhere.
'At this rate, innocent people will get caught in this.'
Simon veered off the street and entered a quieter alley.
"Haha! Given up on running, have you?!"
Thud!
A priest suddenly landed in front of Simon, having already gotten ahead.
"I shall judge you, necromancer!"
With a smile, Simon drew a cross and clasped his hands.
"There seems to be some misunderstanding. I'm Apprentice Priest Ska Serafino. Also, aren't you an Inquisitor? Shouldn't you stop the attacks and conduct an interrogation firs—"
"Interrogation?!"
Metin raised both arms high. Simon's eyes instinctively looked up.
A white magic circle had already formed above his head.
'Oh, crap!'
"No interrogation is necessary when it's right in front of my nose!"
KURURURURUNG!
A beam of Holy lightning descended from the magic circle and struck Simon. His body was engulfed in light and exploded on the spot.
"Khahaha!"
Exorcism, an extremely fatal Holy spell against necromancers. A direct hit purifies both Core and body with Holiness.
"One more for the count to—"
But Metin couldn't believe his eyes.
"…Huh?"
Suddenly, a whirlwind surged, and the sole of a shoe came into view right in front of his eyes.
CRAAACK!
Metin flew backward, spraying blood from his nose.
BOOM!
His body crashed into a trash heap in the alley. Simon landed lightly on the ground and dusted off his robe.
"Told you I'm not."