Chapter 175

The confession booths were placed at each end of the large corridor before entering the chapel of the seminary.

This was to encourage the devotees who came to attend the worship service to voluntarily go to confession before participating in the service.

Of course, most of those who came to this place for worship were theology professors or students from the Department of Theology, or students from other departments who had come under the influence of friends; thus, the number of people using the confession booths was exceedingly small.

It wasn’t that I was unreliable; rather, the devotees were living according to their way without specifically breaking the commandments, and the students who were not particularly zealous did not scrutinize their rights and wrongs one by one.

Naturally, it had been a very long time since I last officiated a confession. I recalled the process of confession little by little and continued walking.

The confession booth here, located in the seminary chapel, resembled a large wooden wardrobe and was divided into a total of three small rooms.

Among them, I entered the middle room. Originally, it would have been correct for one devotee to enter each of the side rooms, but today there was only one guest.

– Bang.

As I sat quietly, I heard the sound of the door of the opposite confession booth opening. I slowly opened the small window of the confessional located in that direction.

– Squeak.

As I opened the small wooden sliding window of the confessional, I caught sight of Jericho, who seemed to be slightly bowing his head, perhaps due to his size.

Inside the confession booth, where no light was entering, it was extremely dark, so I couldn’t see Jericho’s face properly. I took a match out of my pocket and lit the small candle inside the confessional.

– Flick!

“…keep your lamps lit and be vigilant.”

The muted warm light weakly illuminated the inside of the confession booth I was sitting in. Although Jericho’s face was still hard to see, it was enough to distinguish his facial features.

“Jericho. Have you had experience with confession before?”

“…No.”

“Hmm….”

I had heard that he used to attend church diligently, but despite having a profession that inevitably stained his hands with blood, he had never experienced confession. It was difficult to understand from my perspective as a cleric.

As if he had caught a hint of my inner thoughts, Jericho spoke up first as I fell into a momentary silence.

“Actually, in the past… how should I say this, I frequently went to church just for self-comfort and to calm my heart.”

“…Is that so.”

“…It’s an embarrassing matter.”

“That is not the case. Many devotees do not commonly seek forgiveness for the sins they have committed through confession.”

Jericho fell silent. I straightened the priest robe that I had carelessly thrown on after waking and asked Jericho.

“Jericho. Have you received the sacrament of baptism?”

“…I have not. My father was not particularly zealous.”

“The sacrament of baptism washes away and forgives the sins prior to receiving baptism. And the sacrament of confession is an opportunity for salvation, which is the next step after baptism.”

Hearing my explanation, Jericho seemed to fall into thought for a moment, and I could faintly see him stroking his mustache in the flickering candlelight.

“An opportunity for salvation….”

“Do you know how to make the sign of the cross?”

“I know that.”

“To start, make the sign of the cross. Show your faith toward the Lord in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and then respond as I instruct you.”

“I understand.”

“And… from now on, please use honorifics. It is an act of pleading for forgiveness toward the Lord, not me.”

“…Yes. Understood.”

Jericho nodded his head after my explanation. The large shadow cast by him flickered in the candlelight. I quietly made the sign of the cross.

“……”

A solemn atmosphere was soon established. The faint sound of rain from outside the chapel, the hooting of an owl from somewhere, and the sound of trees and grass swaying in the wind as they brushed against each other…

As I felt that stillness and experienced inner peace, I slowly opened my closed eyes. Sensing my presence, Jericho, who had been nervously fidgeting, finally spoke.

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I am here.”

Jericho’s voice trembled severely. It was as if he was facing something fearful, and his body, wrapped in a wet coat and covered with a towel, was shaking like an aspen.

“May the Lord illuminate our hearts, and with firm belief in His mercy, confess your sins truthfully.”

Along with my voice, he stopped, as if it were a lie. Jericho quietly said.

“This is my first confession.”

“…Please continue.”

“I… I….”

Jericho’s body, which had barely stopped trembling, began to shake again along with his voice. However, it was not trembling in fear like before.

“I have stained my hands with too much blood….”

His trembling was born from overwhelming emotions.

* * * * *

Brendal Warren Jericho was born as the only son of the Jericho family, a noble family known for its swordsmanship.

The Jericho family was renowned for its proficiency in swordsmanship, so Brendal Warren Jericho possessed exceptional talent with a sword, and since he first held a sword at the age of six, he had never experienced defeat.

Yes. He had never experienced defeat ‘at all’.

“Aah!”

– Crash!

Until the year he turned fourteen, when he first faced an unnamed swordsman in battle.

“That much doesn’t even reach my toes, little boy.”

With the word ‘little boy’ flowing from her mouth, Brendal Warren Jericho glared at the woman standing before him. The youthful face was twisted with a frightening expression, and his hands, which had rolled on the ground several times, trembled, refusing to drop the sword.

“Eek…! I’ll fight again! Again!”

“You’re lacking in skill, yet you’re this bold?”

“You, you wicked lady…!”

“…Little boy. ‘Lady’ is not something you throw around carelessly.”

Regardless of her words, young Brendal charged directly at her. Faced with the impending experience of defeat for the first time, there was little he could focus on as his vision narrowed.

For instance, the wooden sword suddenly descending toward the top of his head like lightning.

– Whack!

“Ow, that hurts…!”

“You shouldn’t have done something painful, right?”

Tears threatened to come out, but Brendal held it in. His lips trembled as he felt unfairness.

“Who do you think you are to tell me what to do? I am the eldest son of this house, Brendal Warren Jericho!”

“Is that so? What should I do then? I am the one who will teach you swordsmanship from now on.”

“…What?”

Brendal’s expression turned vacant. With a slightly amused smile at his childlike demeanor, she began to introduce herself.

“Well, it seems it’s not the right situation, but to give a brief introduction… I am the Chief Executor of the Imperial Knight Order.”

“The, the Imperial Knight Order…?”

“Yes. The Imperial Knight Order. And from now on, I will also be your swordsmanship teacher.”

“……”

Brendal’s eyes automatically dropped. His gaze stopped at the golden lion emblem embroidered on the breast of the black coat.

Looking back, it seemed odd for someone wearing such an inconvenient coat for wielding a sword to fight so well. It was clear that wearing such a long coat would restrict movement.

And yet, Brendal still did not win in the sparring match. It was a bitter taste of defeat.

As Brendal bit his lips and glared at her, a calm question was thrown with a bewildered expression.

“Why? Did you have a question?”

“I, I can’t accept this!”

His hands trembled uncontrollably, but Brendal firmly held onto the wooden sword. His defiant gaze was fierce.

“Let’s do it again! If I can win against you two more times, then I’ll truly accept it!”

“…You are a prideful little boy. That pride may someday consume you, Brendal.”

“Don’t call me by name! You’re just some lady I met today….”

“……”

Thus, the sparring began again.

– Whack!

“Ow!”

“You have too many unnecessary movements. Who taught you?”

Brendal, in the subsequent second spar, continued to struggle.

– Whack!

“Ugh…!”

“In that situation, instead of blocking with a cross guard, you should have lowered the blade and deflected it. The next move should flow seamlessly.”

In the third spar, which was essentially his last chance, Brendal continued to be thoroughly crushed.

“Are you alright? Did I hit too hard…?”

“……”

It didn’t take long for Brendal to accumulate three defeats in total.

Across three sparring matches, not one of them exceeded five exchanges before the outcome was decided.

Brendal felt frustrated. Experiencing defeat for the first time brought him profound feelings.

Children love new things, yet they simultaneously fear change. A shadow loomed over Brendal, who lay sprawled on the training ground.

“So, will you acknowledge it now? That I will be your teacher?”

“…Who are you?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, what’s your name?”

With his voice laden with exhaustion and a sense of despair, Brendal asked, and her expression showed the smile that she had worn.

She smiled broadly enough to reveal her teeth, an expression that seemed too bright for someone who would take up a sword.

“And my name is, Michelle de Valuerge.”

“Michelle de Valuerge….”

“Yes. I am from the House of Valuerge.”

Extending her calloused hand that held a pleasant yet faint scent, her presence was.

“So, please take care of me from now on, Brendal.”

“…Don’t call me by name….”

That feeling was a kind of emotion Brendal Warren Jericho had never experienced before. Brendal awkwardly clasped the extended hand and stood up, trying to hide his feelings as much as possible.

That emotion was called ‘admiration’.

* * * * *

As the years continued to pass and the days of learning swordsmanship from Michelle continued, Brendal’s skills steadily improved.

There were now no knights within the family’s territory who could contend with him. This was also true for knights from neighboring territories, who were now known far and wide.

Brendal’s personality began to change. His once prideful, curious, innocent, and mischief-prone childhood demeanor transitioned into a more serious and composed nature, thanks to the teachings of his mentor, Michelle.

Finally, the year Brendal turned twenty came. He was able to join the Imperial Knight Order, following his mentor Michelle.

In terms of swordsmanship, there were no longer any flaws to point out, and his stoic and emotionally reserved demeanor was viewed as the ideal representation of a strong knight by the Order, making it all the more expected.

Even after joining the Imperial Knight Order, Brendal did not neglect his sword training.

He picked up his sword whenever he got the chance, and even upon waking in the morning, he reached for his sword first. His day now began with the sword.

And so, how many years passed as Brendal waited for an opportunity to build his achievements while honing his blade in the Imperial Knight Order.

[ The official stance of the Empire, “We can no longer overlook their exceedingly arrogant attitude.” ]

[ Urgent news! Official declaration of war between Dwarves and Elves! ]

War had broken out.

It was a time that had elapsed full 14 years since his meeting with Michelle.