Ishura - Volume 4 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Church in Aureatia's Western Outer Ward

A young girl was walking along the roofs of the homes lining the hilly road. Though she was high enough up to guarantee injury if she ever fell, the girl’s long legs were completely exposed, without even a pair of shoes on her feet.

Her chestnut-colored braid swayed behind her like a tail as she walked. Her name was Tu the Magic.

“Hey, Rique, mind if I ask you something?” she asked her companion down below.

“It’s dangerous up there,” Rique the Misfortune replied, exasperated. The dwarf was a famous mercenary, but in the streets of Aureatia, he was dressed lightly and not carrying his bow.

“Tu, you may be totally fine if you fall, but anyone who sees you is going to be in for a shock.”

“So tell me. Why do you think some houses have nice, tidy roofs, but others are falling apart?”

Tu liked high places because they gave her a clearer view of the far-off landscape. Having lived her whole life in the desolate wastes of the Land of the End, for Tu, everything about the Aureatia townscape was novel and strange.

“That’s gotta do with if someone’s got the money to repair their roof or not. Everyone’s circumstances are different, but there aren’t any run-down roofs in the nobles’ section of town, that’s for sure.”

“Nobles are people like Flinsuda, right?”

Tu the Magic was also a hero candidate appearing in the Sixways Exhibition. Known as the Demon King’s Bastard, not only was she without any relations to speak of, but her very race was suspect; it was thanks to the support of her sponsor in the tournament, Flinsuda, that she was able to live a comfortable life in luxury.

“The Seventh Minister… Flinsuda’s a really special case even among the other nobility. That woman’s the head of the Aureatia Assembly’s health care division. She’s probably the richest person in the country, second only to the Queen herself. You think if I became that rich I could see Sephite whenever I wanted?”

Tu had decided to participate in the Sixways Exhibition as a hero candidate for a chance to be reunited with Queen Sephite, who she met in the past. It was quite possible that 70 percent of the responsibility for this string of events was the result of Krafnir’s maneuvering the hero candidate Flinsuda originally planned on sponsoring.

Tu was a candid and honest young girl. At the very least, the motives she gave for herself were truthful.

…But why?

Neither Rique nor Krafnir knew the reason why. Though she seemed not to keep any secrets, the naive and unsophisticated Tu wouldn’t talk about this single point.

This girl, origins unknown and possessing tremendous individual fighting strength, sought an audience with the Queen for reasons she couldn’t speak of to anyone else.

Nevertheless, for Rique, Tu didn’t appear to be plotting the Queen’s assassination.

“There is technically another way to meet with the Queen, Tu. Do you know where we’re headed today?”

“Nope! Not a clue.”

“You came along without knowing?”

Tu the Magic was a powerful being, beyond any of the monsters Rique had seen in his life as a mercenary, yet on the inside she was like a young child. That may have been why she had taken like a baby bird to people like Rique and Krafnir—the furthest from honesty and integrity one could get.

“An Order almshouse. They take in orphans…and children from houses unable to raise their offspring—and educate them. History, writing, Word Arts, arithmetic, and the like.”

“Sounds hard.”

“Nowadays there are some places that teach even harder stuff than that. Aureatia’s government-operated schools, well, they’re even more complex… That’s where kids are studying stuff like natural sciences or economic theory. Queen Sephite attends school herself. She’s still eleven, after all.”

“Then if I join this ‘school’ place, I’d could meet Sephite, too.”

“Now there’s still a super-tough exam you have to pass to get in. An academic exam, at that.”

“…I—I think I’ll stick with the Sixways Exhibition then…”

“You might be right about that. At the very least, the Queen will be spectating the matches starting from the second round. If you and the Queen know each other, then she might recognize you.”

For the school the Queen attended, the issue of one’s social standing also was a major factor. Even supposing one received a recommendation from Aureatia’s Twenty-Nine Officials, to actually attend, one would need to be, at least, a commoner’s child.

At the present moment, with Nagan Labyrinth City’s college in ruins, it was impossible for people like Rique, who lived in the world of violence, and Tu, her very status as a member of the minian race dubious, to receive an advanced education.

The Sixways Exhibition to decide the strongest being across the land—the fact that proving victorious in such a battle was more realistic spoke to how far apart the world’s light and shadow stood from each other.

“Tu. That’s the wrong way.”

“Oops.”

Tu was heading toward a different forked road that ran along the residential roofs she was traversing. However, she immediately kicked the third-story roof and, spinning twice in the air, landed on one leg down on the pavement.

A feat even an acrobat would’ve found impossible, yet Tu was totally unharmed.

Invincible. It was Sixways Exhibition hero candidate Tu the Magic’s greatest quality. She could get hit directly with a castle’s cannon fire, let alone the landing impact from a three-story fall, and come out of it without a scratch on her.

“Ah-ha-ha. I was about to lose sight of you.”

“Not that there’s any reason for you to come with me in the first place. It’s personal business anyway.”

“So there’s someone you want to see, too, huh, Rique?”

“I’m just dropping by to say hello to a friend who’s helped me out before. I was contracted way back to do some bodyguard work for the Order, see.”

“Now that you mention it, this work of yours, it’s almost always escorting people or guarding someone, huh.”

“Most of the time, I guess. I’ve always been good at sniffing out danger, ever since I was born.”

Rique came from a mercenary family. Both his grandfather and mother had been mercenaries. It was because he bore such a pedigree that he would always pick and choose jobs based on his own set of standards, to help people.

Naturally, in the current age, there were more mercenaries like those in the Free City of Okafu, who carried out their commissions regardless of their morality, with money the only criteria they went by.

As long as they lived in an era where friend and foe, and the side of justice itself, was in constant flux, as a profession, Rique felt that their stance was also worthy of respect. Still, he needed to believe proudly in his vocation, or he’d be unable to pass on his wisdom and skills as a mercenary to his children or grandchildren.

Rique was indebted to the person he was going to see today, and it bolstered confidence in his beliefs.

“We’re here. This is the building.”

Tu joined Rique to look where his finger pointed.

“The roof’s shabby, huh.”

“…Yeah. I didn’t notice.”

Rique tried his best to answer like it didn’t bother him.

When he rang the bell at the entrance, two young men, appearing to be priests in training, came to greet the pair.

“Um, good morning. The chapel’s that way, but do you have some business here?”

“Pardon the sudden visit. I’m Rique the Misfortune. I wanted to stop by and give Aiten the Wood Oar my regards while I was here in Aureatia.”

“Oh, and I’m Tu the Magic!”

Tu hopped behind him to make herself known, but she was already tall enough for that to be totally unnecessary.

“Aiten the Wood Oar, is it? He left Aureatia quite a long time ago.”

“Did he now? Was he dispatched to another city?”

“No. He quit the Order. Said he had to get a proper job to support himself… Though, I remember hearing he was headed for Lithia, so… After the great fire there, I haven’t heard what became of him.”

“…I see. Got bad enough for someone like him to abandon his faith, huh……”

Rique himself didn’t necessarily believe in the teachings of the Wordmaker. Still, he was acutely aware of the depth of faith of those raised by the order.

“Now, all the people best suited for the clergy have up and gone, so I was put in charge of this almshouse. My name’s Naijy the Rhombus Knot.”

“…At your age?”

“Yes. I only have a vague memory of the scripture at best, so I’m not at all confident I can manage, though…”

The young lad scratched the back of his head, looking troubled. He was a good-natured young man. However—

Can the Order maintain their education and welfare in a state like this?

Rique looked back to Tu behind him. Tu blinked her eyes.

“There isn’t anyone else here who’s helped you out before?”

“No, not here. I first met Aiten on a job outside of Aureatia, too. The stuff about him being a priest for the church in Aureatia’s Western Outer Ward was just something he told me back then, too.”

“Huh, that so…?”

“I am sorry. After you came all this way to visit, too.”

“It’s fine. We’re probably the ones putting you out here. It may not be much more than a small gesture, but could you let me inside and donate to the church?”

“Huh?! Y-yes, of course, absolutely!”

As they were shown inside the building by the suddenly chipper young man, Tu, following behind Rique, consulted him by quietly whispering in his ear.

“Should I give something to them, too?”

“Don’t.”

“Like empty bug shells or something?”

“Don’t.”

They passed by classrooms where children were learning. Rique felt the number of children was very small for an Order institution in the minian races’ greatest city. If it meant there were less orphans and impoverished children in the world, then it might’ve been something to celebrate, but he knew this wasn’t so.

Then there was a man walking toward them from the far end of the corridor.

Rique gasped.

“……You!”

“Well now, if it ain’t Rique the Misfortune. And look at this fine woman you got with you!”

Rique immediately focused his attention on the position of the short sword concealed inside his clothes.

“Whoa, whoa, no need to square up now.”

The other man shrugged. He had a large mouth, and his hair was combed back.

“Ha-ha! Either way, you’re a just a chump without that bow of yours.”

“…You may be right. Though even if I am a chump, I’m pretty sure that’s enough to take you on.”

Taking stock of the sudden change in atmosphere, the youthful guide posed a question to Rique.

“U-um… Rique? Are you an acquaintance of Master Jivlart the Ash Border?”

“‘Master’?”

Rique frowned at young man’s word choice.

Jivlart the Ash Border. The boss of Sun’s Conifer. Rique knew this man.

“These guys…are a band of punk thugs from a country town. Ever since a job of mine two years ago, I made up my mind to never trust these Sun’s Conifer dregs. What’s all this ‘Master’ nonsense about, then? Jivlart?”

“A country town… Ha-ha! A real nasty way to refer to a man’s beloved hometown, wouldn’t you say?”

Jivlart jogged forward and looked down right in Rique’s face. Though his dress itself was rather high-class, the distinctive violent and boorish air to him hadn’t changed at all since Rique last saw him.

“Though, you’re not wrong.”

Sun’s Conifer, rising up from a frontier village and rapidly making a name for themselves in recent years, proclaimed to be a guild. They behaved like a band of skilled and capable mercenaries, and a majority of the city’s citizens believed their act.

However, in reality, this brute force only ever pointed their blades at those weaker than themselves who they could exploit.

“Um, Rique…”

“If you’re in charge here, then you listen, too. A while back, I took up a job guarding the daughter of a wealthy farmer. I had to escort her to the family she was marrying into. The ones the client hired to act as the on-site guarantor were Sun’s Conifer. When I successfully escorted the girl, I handed her over to these guys. But.”

Though he had only a relatively short relationship with her, the girl was cheerful and loved to make small talk. Rique had thought she’d be able to live a happy life in her new home.

“For some reason, that girl’s finger was sent to the wealthy farmer’s house. The girl who I had definitely escorted safely to her destination had apparently been abducted by bandits. The young girl who returned in exchange for a ransom was no longer in any state to present to her fiancé…and ultimately, she died.”

“Ha-ha! Well, that sure is a straaange story, eh? Though, I wonder which is stranger, that or a bungling mercenary trying to push a past failure onto someone else.”

“There are children living in this home—”

Rique pulled his hood back over his eyes.

“—and I’m not going to dirty it with blood. Step out front. You’re the boss, so you’re gonna take responsibility for the job you did.”

“Ya know, I wonder why they all start sounding the same to me. The jabbering drivel of pretentious guys like you.”

Jivlart’s smile disappeared, and he put his hand on the sheath of his long sword.

“At least have the guts to say you’ll kill me right here on the spot.”

“Hold up.”

Someone butted into the powder keg mood in the air—Tu the Magic.

“Inside, outside, it’s not happening either way. And Rique—”

Tu unexpectedly pointed to Rique.

“Don’t try to kill someone before asking about the situation in front of you!”

“Hold up, Tu… You think you get to tell me that?!”

Back when Tu and Rique had battled each other in the Land of the End, if the Demon King’s Bastard, Tu the Magic, had actually asked about why Rique and Krafnir were there, they never would have needed to fight in the first place.

“I learned my lesson! So you gotta learn yours, too!”

“Flipping the script is really unfair, you know that?!”

“…Um?”

The young priest in training, scared by the current state of affairs, timidly spoke up from behind the pair.

“Master Jivlart is donating to our facilities here. It’s largely thanks to him that I am even able to run the almshouse all by myself…”

“…What?”

“So if there is indeed some misunderstanding between the two of you…… Please, I ask you to put away your swords. A-at the very least, I would ask you to respect the Wordmaker’s teachings in these halls…”

Rique looked again at Jivlart.

He absolutely couldn’t trust the man. There was a possibility that like his past escort mission, the man had some nefarious schemes up his sleeve. However, at present, Rique couldn’t see any benefit to Jivlart currying favor with the Order in its weakened state.

“What’s your angle?”

“Angle? Is there any angle to charity?”

Jivlart stuck out his tongue to needle Rique.

“I’m real kind to kids, and the kids here are really well-behaved. Who wouldn’t want to give them a bit of spending money?”

“……”

“Those are the eyes. People like you are always like that, eh? Arbitrarily judging and labeling whatever a person does as they see fit. Raised up nice and proper into a righteous prick. What the hell do you know about me? Dragging on some moldy grudge of yours and getting a buncha random other people wrapped up in it, too.”

“And you, too, Jivlart!”

Tu butted in. She wasn’t intimidated by the violence in the air.

“That’s going too far. You may not like Rique, but none of that’s got anything to do with the Order, either! If you got your own case to make, then make it!”

“…Who’re you?”

“Tu the Magic.”

Her green eyes, faintly glowing, stared hard at Jivlart.

Jivlart the Ash Border once again slowly placed his hand on the hilt of his long sword.

An imposing move. When it came solely to making a show of brute force, Jivlart’s skills might have excelled more than those of a true mercenary like Rique.

“……I’m Jivlart the Ash Border. Hero candidate. I was invited to the Sixways Exhibition and came out here to Aureatia.”

Tu didn’t look intimidated in the slightest. It almost seemed like she didn’t notice his aura at all.

“That so, huh?! We’re in the same boat, then! I’m a hero candidate, too.”

As Tu stretched her hand to Jivlart, a smile blossomed on her face.

“…You gotta be kidding me.”

Jivlart couldn’t bring himself to return Tu’s handshake. His fingers stayed on his sword hilt.

“A woman like you, a hero candidate?”

“She’s telling the truth.”

Rique grumbled.

“You’ll see once they announce the matchups. Tu’s an official hero candidate, backed by the Seventh Minister, Flinsuda.”

“Ha-ha! So this woman’s stronger than you, huh? You’re so spineless I can’t help but laugh, Rique.”

“Pfft, heh-heh-heh… Stronger than me? No, that can’t be right.”

Rique laughed. He hadn’t thought there’d be anything to make him laugh when confronting Jivlart.

“She’s stronger than Krafnir the Hatch of Truth and me combined.”

“……”

“Uh, um…”

The silence continued. Jivlart remained stock-still before the inscrutable young girl, while conversely, Tu also wasn’t sure what to do with the hand outstretched before Jivlart.

“Makes me sick.”

“Screw this.”

Jivlart backed off. He shoved the hand affixed to his sword into his pocket and cracked his neck.

“I’ll be by again.”

“Oh, um, u-understood…… Thank you, as always.”

He departed without returning any of the numerous bows from the priest in training.

Tu was frozen in her current pose, her hand still outstretched.

“H-hey, Rique…”

“Tu. Thanks for stopping me.”

Rique grabbed her hand instead. Tu happily shook it up and down.

“…I wasn’t thinking things through clearly… Whether he’s a bad guy or not, it wasn’t right to rush to conclusions without trying to learn anything about him.”

“Right? Maybe Jivlart’s actually a good guy, after all?”

“Maybe.”

Tu probably wanted to believe he was.

The success Tu had achieved that day likely made her happier than ever.

The experience of talking things out with Rique and Krafnir, on a mission to subdue the Demon King’s Bastard, and coming to a mutual understanding.

That was why she was still so attached to Rique and sought the very same thing from all the people she met here in Aureatia.

Having been a mercenary for a long time, Rique knew that the world wasn’t like that. Folks who it was meaningless to try talking it out with—just like the those Tu had long expelled from the Land of the End—accounted for a large majority of people out there.

That day, Rique had been unable to meet the person he was indebted to, but he donated more money than he had first planned on.

He stayed there until the sun sank low, without forcing his travel companion to go back ahead of him.

Rique watched Tu from behind as she joined in the children’s playtime and pondered.

…“Maybe,” huh…

Jivlart’s group, Sun’s Conifer, was an organization from a frontier village that had rapidly and suddenly distinguished themselves and had risen up in the world.

A guild founded by a group of poor youths with neither lineage nor learning to their names. In order to grab success for themselves, without anyone at their backs supporting them, they might not have had any other methods besides dirtying their hands with the sort of vile, underhanded jobs that Obsidian Eyes, for example, had formerly taken on for themselves.

The worlds of light and shadow stood so far apart that those born in squalor were forced to further stain their hands with such dirty methods.

There were the Order’s destitute, who the inhabitants of Aureatia paid no mind. There were children that even the Order had failed to reach. Poor people on the frontier who only had brute force and violence at their disposal. Alternatively, there were the victims, left behind in the Land of the End, that Tu had kept under her protection.

I don’t think I can forgive Jivlart. But…

Rique was a mercenary. He had always chosen jobs he could take pride in.

Had he ever been able to save even a single person faced with such circumstances?

Tu, I want to believe that there’s salvation out there for everyone.