Chapter 27

“When I get better, I’ll play as much as I couldn’t now.”

“Are you okay? You’re getting better, right?”

“I told you. Cough! It’s just a cold. It’s not a deadly disease, at least not yet.”

027

The One Who Turned Away (Part 2)

In the quiet and desolate center of the cemetery, silence lingered. It was the time when the sun was preparing to rest, and faint sunlight cast a dim shadow on the old man’s face.

François maintained a composed expression with a forced smile, yet the shadow on his face seemed a little sad.

“It’s disappointing.”

“I asked what your business is.”

Of course, Anne wouldn’t be shaken by that, but her firm words were as cold and unyielding as ice. Only one person could influence her with a smile or tears.

“Let’s do as Sister Anne wishes.”

In the end, François stepped back once again and changed his tone. As per their known relationship, as per the Cardinal’s usual demeanor. A tone that showed respect even to subordinates.

But that also meant keeping a distance from the other person. The very distance Anne desired.

Even in this situation, Anne had no intention of letting the other person get close. The only family she had left was Louis.

Well, strictly speaking, they weren’t even engaged, so they were strangers. But Anne didn’t think so, and she believed Louis didn’t either.

“If it’s official business, there’s only one thing. It’s about Sister Anne’s recent behavior.”

François took a step back in the face of her firmness, but that retreat was to take two steps forward. A controversy Anne would have to carry with her from now on.

“Your devotion to atonement is certainly commendable, but… lately, your visits to the reformatory have been worryingly frequent.”

Anne was originally a rising star in the religious order. The fact that she harbored special feelings for a heretic she personally captured was known only to a very few around her.

Even without knowing such circumstances, taking over trials that should have been handled by other Inquisition Judges, sparing only one heretic, and even receiving disciplinary action while visiting the reformatory where that heretic was imprisoned…

To anyone, it would seem there’s a clear purpose.

“The religious order is strict, and people fear corruption. Sister Anne, rumors are already spreading.”

“……”

“The Cardinal, being in a high position, must be fair. I cannot protect you forever.”

That statement itself was contradictory. If he were truly fair, he shouldn’t have protected Anne, who had been slightly deviating from the doctrine from the beginning.

Originally, it was François who recommended the frail girl who couldn’t even become a temple soldier, let alone an Inquisition Judge.

But no matter how strong the Cardinal’s power was, it was also true that he couldn’t absolutely protect Anne. Even the Emperor couldn’t slight him.

The Cardinal, and indeed all the power and authority of the religious order, stemmed from the existing deity. They were the guardians of doctrine and slaves to discipline, unable to even dream of opposing it.

Even the Emperor’s son was branded a heretic for violating taboos, so how much more so for an Inquisition Judge, who was already rumored to have a high potential for corruption?

“The Inquisition Judge forgets her duty and sides with the heretic.”

Moreover, the reason they obeyed the will of the deity was not only because they lacked the power to resist but also because they lacked the will. If an omnipotent being exists, then his words are all true, so why would anyone try to refuse?

That was true for François, Verdo, and even herself. Anne still diligently prayed to the deity and deeply revered Ailim, but…

Even if her faith was genuine, there was something in her heart that she believed in and followed more than the deity.

“For now, it’s just a rumor, but if this continues, the rumor will grow. Sister Anne, please don’t take my words lightly.”

Though it seemed like pure concern, it was a warning.

It’s not just the rabble swayed by rumors who doubt Anne. Even François, who seems to care for her so tenderly, would personally throw her into the flames if her corruption were confirmed.

For a fanatic, nothing is more important than the will of the deity, even more than oneself. A puppet without free will, living its life hanging by the strings pulled by another being.

“I only wish to prove something.”

“What?”

Anne adapted easily to life in the religious order. That meant she had the same fanatical tendencies as other fanatics.

But what if a puppet among puppets had a different master pulling its strings? What if, without realizing it, the puppet that was supposed to dance according to the master’s touch began to control the master instead?

Even among fanatics, there are differences. An inevitable sense of dissonance.

“That heretics can be reformed.”

Despite the existence of the reformatory, the religious order had never succeeded in purifying those who had become heretics. There were cases where heresy was halted or reduced in the face of death or immense divine power.

Even those who seemed to return to normal and live properly eventually went berserk and revealed their true nature. The seed of evil had already taken root in their essence and soul.

Forcing a human shell over them couldn’t change their corrupted core.

“If it’s not John in theology class, surely you know what a heretic is, Sister?”

“……I’ve hunted filthy heretics more than once or twice, how could I not know..”

“Then.”

“Even so.”

Anne sharply cut off François’s words, which were refuting with common sense.

“Can’t we give them one chance? What was the reason for the reformatory’s creation?”

Of course, the reformatory was created to reform heretics.

To return heretics to the embrace of Ailim, a place was established beneath the Inquisition Temple, and the limited blessings of the deity were generously expended. Not for profit, but for mercy and love. To repay even a little of what the Lord had given.

It was a foolish act committed in ignorance of Laube and heretics.

“Why now? Countless heretics have died by your hands, Sister.”

“Although my past self was too weak to reach them, I only wished to save even one, even if belatedly.”

The people of the religious order now know.

That heretics cannot be reformed.

Thus, the reformatory, while maintaining its name out of respect for tradition, now operates more like a containment facility. For heretics too powerful to kill, or those who must not be killed due to practical reasons.

“Sister Anne.”

Looking at her, François quietly made the sign of the cross.

His right and left hands bent nearly 90 degrees, and beyond the touching wrists, the old man’s blue eyes were calmly settled. A cool gaze like a tributary of the Nern River that flows even in winter.

“Then, I will ask before the name of Ailim.”

Originally, the sign of the cross was used as a greeting or a sign of respect. But François did not lower his hands. A motion that strains the wrists, and even someone with joints worn smooth by years of repetition would feel a twinge if held too long.

Though his body was weak and old, easily broken like a straw, the will within still showed its strength.

“Did you save a heretic who never even had a chance to reform?”

“If not.

“Did you save a precious person out of your own personal feelings?”

The holy symbol is Ailim’s emblem, and before its sacred authority, one cannot dare to lie.

It holds no mysterious power or blessing. It is merely a hand gesture. But people know how much diverse and immense meaning can be carried in that small motion.

Thus, Anne dared not answer. How could she deceitfully speak before the deity’s majesty.

Though two living people were present, the cemetery was eerily quiet.

Anne had turned to face François. Behind her, the still majestic but humble cemetery silently watched them.

<Ronil Horas>

<Who led the pitiful to rest, and himself entered rest.>

Of course, the dead do not speak. Even the inscription on the tombstone is not their own words but a tribute placed by others.

In the silence of the deceased, the two, distorted mirror images alike yet entirely different, remained wordless for a long time.