Chapter 91: Chapter 91

It was dark around him.

He blinked wide-eyed.

'This isn't a dream.'

He quickly gathered the scattered fragments of memory in his mind.

His memory broke off from the moment he collapsed at the lakeside.

'An unfamiliar ceiling.'

But it wasn't unfamiliar. He had seen it before.

As his vision gradually adjusted to the darkness, it helped him discern his surroundings.

He felt a little calmer. Belatedly, the smell of incense pricked his nose. It wasn't entirely unpleasant. In fact, it felt rather soothing.

'Maybe my nose is just numb.'

Ran gently touched his nose. He pulled off the quilt covering his upper body.

"You should be resting even more, and yet you're already trying to move?"

A voice sounded from outside the room.

Ran walked softly to check who it was.

Shairach was sitting in a rocking chair, reading a book.

Ran stood there for a moment, blankly staring at her as if dazed. He was honestly a little dumbfounded.

First, shairach in that rocking chair. It made him wonder if people's sense of comfort is about the same in both the Empire and Northland—a curious realization.

Second, the book Shairach was reading.

'Northlandic doesn't have an alphabet.'

When Ran studied Northlandic, the materials he read in Quersa's library were Imperial books transliterated with Northlandic pronunciations.

And third, the reason why Shairach insisted on her bizarre makeup.

All in all, a witch sitting elegantly like an Imperial and reading a book seemed extremely awkward.

"What book are you reading?"

"Keekeek. Trying to change the subject, huh? Is it that strange seeing a Northman reading a book?"

"It's a book about Imperial medicine."

Shairach mixed Northlandic and Imperial as she spoke.

"All these books were gifts from Arcangelo. Even this chair."

"... I see. You must have been on good terms."

Shairach giggled and waved her hand.

"No, no. It was a rather peculiar relationship."

"It was. He kept lying to me. But apart from that, arcangelo was a pretty decent fellow."

When Ran regained consciousness after collapsing, it was at Shairach's house. Not with Terrence or Iel, Rev, or even Tascar.

That in itself made Ran feel he should learn a little more about Shairach.

Only then did Shairach roll her eyes over and look at Ran.

"He kept stubbornly insisting he was my son's friend."

"Yes. Out of the vast Empire, he just happened to meet my son and become friends, and then met me again in Northland? Arcangelo, that rascal, who does he take me for, a fool? But what angers me more is that he kept treating my son like he was already dead. The rotten bastard."

Ran remembered what Hodin had once said. Shairach's son was a barbarian who defected to the Empire.

He figured there was a good chance he knew him.

"... Binut. Binut of the Frost Wolf."

Shairach looked at Ran with subtly hopeful eyes.

It wasn't hard to act.

"I've never heard the name."

Shairach nodded, as if she had expected that, though she couldn't completely hide her slight disappointment.

"It would've been stranger if you'd said you knew him. Such connections rarely happen unless the gods meddle."

"Is that why you've been staying here all this time?"

"What do you mean, because of that?"

Ran's calm, indifferent tone.

Even Shairach was momentarily overwhelmed by the atmosphere, losing her usual eccentric composure. She felt a sudden chill.

"You thought you could meet your son again by waiting here. Did Arcangelo ever say something like that to you?"

Shairach's eyes wavered.

When a new world opened, Binut, who was once at Asriel's side, would descend to the holy land of Quersa.

That's what Arcangelo had said, because he was more devout than anyone.

He said they would surely appear in the new land and that they could be reunited.

Arcangelo had said so.

"Given your deep ties with the shamanistic world, I thought you might have a reason to remain within the authority of the Holy Church."

Ran had once received help from Shairach. Intentional or not, it was thanks to the incense she had burned that he could partially awaken within his inner world.

He wanted to repay her, even just a little.

The Binut he knew—namely, Hank the Butcher—had died denying god.

He opened his mouth with difficulty. He pressed out each syllable carefully.

"Blood ties are said to be the most meaningful bond, so that any god would have made them with special effort..."

The next words came out much gentler.

"... You will, somehow, meet Binut again."

And he truly wished that for her.

He left Shairach's house.

As soon as he stepped outside, he stretched. He yawned so wide that his jaw almost cracked and then stood still, motionless like a stone statue.

Strangely, the blurry village looked much clearer than before.

'... What is this? Did my eyes get better?'

He rubbed both eyes and looked again. It wasn't just his imagination. The thick fog had largely lifted.

"Saint, I am so glad you've woken up safely."

A voice startled Ran. A Northman, palms pressed together, passed by his side.

"Saint, may the grace you bestowed on Quersa be upon Northland."

This time, another woman stopped, put down her basket, prayed, and went on her way.

As more people seemed to approach, Ran hurried away as if fleeing.

'I should've stayed out of sight, but I let my guard down.'

He quickened his pace and soon emerged into a wide clearing.

"Oh, Ran! Looks like your strength has come back!"

"We were all worried. It's such a relief."

"So glad to see you alive!"

People from the safe zone greeted him cheerfully, waving their hands. They were cultivating the land with tools they had brought from the safe zone.

A few Northmen mingled among them. Even as they awkwardly tilled the soil, their faces were bright.

They were all sweating and laughing together.

When Dario had first told him the village's name, Ran had found it so absurd he'd laughed out loud.

He smiled to himself, without even realizing it.

It meant something different now.

"A Sword Demon, a protagonist, and now a Saint. What's next?"

Rev crept up behind him, lowering his voice to try and startle him.

"I saw you coming from over there, you know."

Ran suddenly remembered something important he'd forgotten. He started asking Rev the things he'd meant to ask Shairach.

"You were like that for four days. Shairach said you exhausted yourself recklessly channeling spirit energy."

"What does it mean to have used spirit energy?"

Rev puckered his lips and shrugged.

"Terrence said it was exhaustion from overwork. Honestly, anyone would have collapsed after hanging in there for a week."

Rev added that Terrence and Shairach had even had a subtle rivalry over what had caused Ran to collapse.

"Shairach insisted on keeping you herself and took you from Terrence. Since even Sigurd sided with Shairach, we really had no choice."

"I see. So that happened."

In a way, he was glad. Now that he was better, Ran planned to visit Shairach again when he could.

The two stood side by side, gazing out at the scenery for a while.

Ran briefly wondered if bringing everyone here had been the right choice. After all, in this small village, people of the Holy Church, northmen, and demons all lived together. Some might be suppressing their discomfort.

"I don't know what everyone else thinks, but for me..."

Ran trailed off, glancing at Rev's profile.

Rev was contentedly watching his own people working and chatting busily.

"Ran, do you remember what I said when we first met?"

When he'd been captured by Umi the cannibal, the first thing Rev said upon seeing Ran was to thank Tarok, Asriel, and Dakir.

"Th-thank all the gods...?"

"Yes, that's right. I'm a bit embarrassed you remember so well. Anyway, I really meant it when I said that."

Rev spoke in a relaxed voice.

"I almost died several times. Even during the war. Each time, it was friends—and you, Ran—who saved me. Not Tarok, really."

It might have been a risky thing to say. Most people think everything is part of the god's design.

"Just because others don't say it doesn't mean they aren't thinking the same thing. Maybe they feel the same way."

Everyone had seen Ran's golden light. It was awe-inspiring, and the radiant wings felt warm.

It wasn't a religious illusion. Ran's hand had simply reached out in salvation, and beneath it they felt at peace.

"Whether you're a barbarian, demon, or Holy Church believer, the life you wish for is probably all the same. Something like that."

Rev chuckled and scratched his head, unable to fully admit that thanks to Ran, he'd found a new life, and the hatred he'd long clung to now felt pointless. Even gratitude, if voiced too often, starts to sound less sincere.

"That's why, whether Ran was a member of the Emperor's army or a Priest, nobody's going to care now. Unless you're some inquisitor, anyway."

Rev's silly joke hit like a blade. Ran quickly turned his head and cleared his throat.

In that direction, terrence was approaching, with Sigurd alongside him. Follow current novels on NoveIＦire.net

"We were all worried when that strange woman took you away."

Sigurd nudged Terrence in the ribs with her elbow.

She now understood Imperial fairly well. Even if she didn't get all the words, she could tell Terrence was gossiping about Shairach.

Shairach had nursed Sigurd with all her heart when she was critically ill. She was a benefactor to her.

Terrence, feeling awkward, changed the subject.

"By the way, I saw Tascar yesterday."

"Oh, where is Tascar now?"

"There's an encampment not far from here. He's finished preparing and told me to let you know as soon as you woke up."

"Ran, you might think it odd I'm worried about you, but don't die alone in some distant land with no connections."

Terrence knew that Ran and Tascar were heading to Ortega to fight the Snow Leopards.

Since Quersa in Northland was their base, terrence had work to do for their rear support as well.

"I'll take good care of Iel."

"I'll take responsibility and look after her."

Ran's gaze shifted to Sigurd, standing quietly beside Terrence. She sat demurely with both hands folded on her stomach.

A gentle smile spread across Ran's lips.

Fighting was, in the end, a personal matter—he was only headed to Ortega for his own reasons. Yet, strangely enough, victory would also benefit everyone. Ran felt good knowing that.

He'd never fought for someone else before.

He hurried to leave Quersa before he ran into Iel.

On the way to meet Tascar, Ran recalled the sensation of emitting light and summoning Nachal, as if reviewing them.

'Nachal and light weren't at odds.'

The two powers had coexisted. He hadn't been sure it was possible.

'If the source of my power comes from the sacred, it would naturally clash with evil spirit energy.'

In the mortal realm, demons and the Holy Church are sworn enemies.

Even if Lord Asriel's view encompasses all, transcendent powers belong to the realm of the incomprehensible.

'It'll still take time to understand all this on my own.'

He had only just awakened. He didn't have the foundational knowledge or the leisure to ponder deeply.

But now that he had confirmed these powers were his, he knew he had to master them.

'Even so, I don't know the true source of the light.'

Ran drew Nachal in front of him. He gripped the scabbard in one hand and drew back the hilt with the other.

White radiance poured from the barely unsheathed blade, bright enough to hurt his eyes.

He closed the scabbard. Suddenly, a thought occurred.

What if he had devoted all those hours in Quersa, spent studying theology and worldly knowledge, entirely to refining his swordsmanship and martial talent?

Feeling a chill, Ran shook his head vigorously.

As he walked on, he drew near Tascar's camp.

"At last you've come, imperial mercenary. Heheheh."

Tascar, seated in the midst of the group, welcomed Ran from afar.

Ran glanced around at Tascar and his group. There were quite a few of them.

He approached, calmly meeting their gazes.

**New Names, locations, skills, techniques List**