Chapter 48

“Even if I die… Louis must live happily. For my share and more.”

“…How, can I?”

“You can forget about someone like me, okay?”

*

048

The Messenger (Part 1)

*

Louis Verge’s release from prison was a hot topic even within the Inquisition Temple.

Those who heard the news split into two factions and fought. Of course, as members of the Inquisition Temple, they fought with words, not swords. With dignity, formality, and etiquette.

Some argued that it was too hasty a decision. They said he would end up following the same path as the other heretics who had been released before. That it was just a waste of innocent lives.

Others, who had heard Anne’s speech, said this: “Saving others is our duty. Even if they are heretics who have sold their souls to Laube.”

To deny them even a single chance is too cruel.

“Welcome, Sister Anne.”

And the higher-ups of the Inquisition Temple knew more about the details of this matter.

They knew that this entire incident, which had turned the Inquisition Temple upside down, was not born out of some grand cause or mission, but simply from the heart of a single girl.

This isn’t the end; it’s just the beginning. Too many resources have been mobilized for a single heretic, and even then, they must remain on edge, fearing when the heretic might go berserk.

And the eye of the storm that brought all these changes was leisurely enjoying tea time.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Vito François.”

Despite her soft-spoken words, Anne’s expression was sullen as she held an empty teacup. She had finally been able to be together with someone, only to be interrupted, so it was no wonder she wasn’t in a good mood.

Of course, Anne was not a child but an adult, and she knew how much the Cardinal had overstepped to accommodate her recklessness.

As someone with a sense of propriety and as an Inquisition Judge, Anne could not refuse the call of the Inquisition Temple. The servants of the mansion were more the Order’s people than hers.

Regardless of the personal bonds she had formed with them, or the admiration and praise they showered upon her.

“…Brother Verdo, why are you here?”

“Good question. I’m curious too.”

Verdo, sitting next to François, retorted with a tilt of his head. He was sitting somewhat awkwardly due to the wound on his side.

At the time, she had been too heated to notice her surroundings, but seeing him like this, Anne couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

“Uh, um. Is your wound okay?”

“Sigh. Never mind that. More importantly, Sister.”

But Verdo, though his direction was different, was just as out of his mind as Anne.

“I heard you’re retiring as an Inquisition Judge.”

It was inevitable that stories from the mansion would leak elsewhere.

Of course, they wouldn’t have heard the conversations in the bedroom, but it wasn’t the first or second time she and Louis had discussed this topic.

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“A problem? Ha, a problem?”

Verdo slammed the desk in front of him with a completely un-royal-like demeanor, fuming. His angry face was a stark contrast to Anne’s calm and composed expression.

“Sister Anne. Are you abandoning your mission?”

“That’s a bit unpleasant to hear. Are you testing me?”

“If not! …Sigh, if not, then it doesn’t make sense.”

Verdo, who was about to shout in anger, met Anne’s icy, cold gaze and his momentum faltered.

Inquisition Judge Anne was not a warm person. She was polite to everyone, but no one was unaware that her politeness was a way of keeping others at a distance.

“It’s not really that strange, is it? I’m not the only one who wants to retire.”

“But unlike the seniors, you’re still young. You can still fight…”

“Who says.”

She cut him off with a short statement. Just facing her sharp gaze, Verdo felt as if a blade was pressed against his neck.

“Who gets to decide that I can still fight?”

“That, that’s…”

Despite her young age, Anne had accumulated enough merit to retire. In other words, her time as an Inquisition Judge, though not long, had been filled with blood and death.

Verdo was well aware of her legendary achievements. He knew how many corpses lay along the path she had walked, how heavy the deaths and grudges she carried on her back were.

But telling her not to overdo it and to stop at a reasonable point is the logic of ordinary people. Shouldn’t a hero show that they can push beyond their limits—no, even surpass them?

“I’m tired. I had already been thinking of quitting.”

A lie mixed with truth. That she was tired was true. But if she hadn’t met Louis, Anne wouldn’t have quit. No, she couldn’t have quit.

From the moment she fell from her world, she had been unable to attach herself to anything. Despite her beautiful appearance and dazzling glory, there was surprisingly no one by Anne’s side.

Were there no people who tried to approach her? No moths drawn to her radiant light? It was her own choice to push everyone away, even her own flesh and blood.

But at the same time, the fragile girl couldn’t bear the loneliness of being alone. The more she crumbled, the more she clung to God and her mission.

Even as she knew that doing so only made her crumble further.

“Brother Verdo, Sister Anne. Everyone, calm down.”

François, who had stepped away for a moment, returned to calm them down. Anne stared at the steaming tea being poured into her cup.

The liquid, a shade of blue clearer than her own eyes. Though it didn’t steam, Anne knew all too well how scalding hot it was.

The aroma was definitely to her liking, but filled with only bad memories, she hesitated to reach for it.

“Gah!”

Hearing Verdo scream as he hastily sipped the tea, Anne let out a small laugh. But the smile was fleeting, and her expression soon hardened again.

As Verdo yielded his seat, François sat across from her. The noble old man with blue eyes similar to hers was a much more formidable opponent compared to the overly passionate Inquisition Judge.

Anne struck first before the other could launch an offensive.

“You called me here because of Louis, right? If that’s the case, then Brother Verdo doesn’t need to be here, does he?”

“No, Sister Anne.”

But her opponent was still not to be underestimated. François’ thin smile was so natural that it was hard to imagine his finely wrinkled face making any other expression.

“He should hear it too. If the true nature of that heretic is revealed, he will have to stand trial.”

But the frail-looking old man could casually utter words that could kill someone with a smiling face. The sound of the chair creaking under his grip made it seem like he was about to break it.

“It’s not a heretic, it’s Louis. Louis Verge.”

“Only if the heretic’s sins have been completely cleansed.”

The clear blue eyes, unclouded by age, and the dull gray-blue eyes that had clouded over in such a short time glared at each other with the same intensity. The gaze that had even made fellow Inquisition Judges shrink back had no effect on the old man, who seemed too frail.

But the difference in physical prowess was undeniable, and in the end, François was the first to look away. Not to avoid the staring contest, but as if his eyes were looking somewhere far away.

“What are you trying to say now? Louis has definitely completed the penance procession!”

“By his own strength?”

She was at a loss for words. François, having gained the upper hand, instead of pressing sharply, continued in a soft voice, blinking with a friendly gaze.

“I heard that at the last moment, an intervener who should not have intervened stepped into the procession. That they personally lifted the sinner up.”

“But, in the end, Louis walked on his own…”

Even to herself, the excuse sounded weak. As François didn’t respond, Anne’s voice involuntarily rose.

The shards of ice from the broken iceberg sharply reflected the light.

“From the beginning, the conditions were unfair! You were the one who told him to cut off his leg, and then you set a long-distance pilgrimage. You never intended to release Louis in the first place…!”

“Yes.”

François did not deny Anne’s sharp accusations.

“How could we possibly release a heretic back into the world? The children of the accursed Laube can never be reformed.”

“Louis is different!”

Anne shouted in a shrill voice, but in the end, it was no different from a child throwing a tantrum. Did she read the Scriptures? Did she quote the verses?

That’s nothing. Among the Order’s records, there was a heretic who, through sheer sincerity, was ordained and even partook of the Holy Body to become an Inquisition Judge.

And because of that heretic-turned-Inquisition Judge, Ailim almost woke from His slumber. It was the Order’s greatest tragedy and failure. Since then, the reformatory, which once housed dozens of heretics, had become a hollow shell.

Naturally, Anne knew all of this.

“The matter is already concluded, so it’s not about assigning blame now. Just remember, Judge Anne.”

The words whispered to Louis on that moonlit night were all sincere.

Just not true. No matter how earnest one’s heart is, one cannot change the world alone. They say those who change the world are heroes, but…

If that were truly the case, why are there so many heroes who meet tragic ends?

“That heretic did not complete the penance procession to the end. His sins have not been fully cleansed.”

Of course, the Inquisition Temple did not think Louis would immediately turn into a heretic and go berserk. Having spent a long time in the reformatory, his malignancy must have been somewhat suppressed.

So, the words François was delivering now were more of a warning than advice.

“I’m worried about you. Inquisition Judges are not immortal, so if you stay by his side all day and something happens to you…”

“How can you say that!”

Anne sharply shouted, standing up abruptly. The rough movement caused the chair to topple and half-break. It was a statement worth getting angry over, but her reaction was more intense than usual.

If Louis was her weak spot, then Inquisition Judge Anne, not a girl, was known for her cold rationality. Why was it so hard to control herself now? Her chest felt heavy and painful.

“I’m not saying to do something right now. Sister Anne. Just be careful, and a bit more cautious.”

François, flustered by the even more violent reaction, tried to calm Anne down, and Anne, fuming, tried to soothe her burning insides by gulping down the tea. Forgetting for a moment how scalding hot it was.

And then, the teacup fell from her hand.

*Crash!*

The sharp sound of the teacup shattering. But no one in the room could pay attention to it anymore.

Finally, the mask broke, and raw horror showed in François’ gaze. Verdo’s gaze, filled with fear, locked onto Anne, who had unknowingly bent over.

Her platinum hair cascaded like a waterfall. Blue tea water flowed back from her lips, and the girl involuntarily retched.

Apart from bad memories, her body, which usually accepted it willingly, had never felt so nauseous.

“Ugh, ugh.”