CHAPTER FIVE

Col and Myuri agreed that the first thing they needed to do was inform Sharon of the situation.

In the meantime, they had to think about how they would get her and the other tax collectors out of the city. The king had already decided to surround the city with his army at dawn, so it was not unthinkable that his cavalry and scouts were monitoring the city, and if they all walked out in great numbers over the open plains, they would be found right away, even if it was nighttime. Myuri had even grown anxious about there being no place to hide in the open field when they were on the boat to Rausbourne.

In that case, their only option was to go by sea. They asked Hans to send a message to Yosef, who was likely at the port. While they doubted Yosef would turn down the request, they were not sure if the deckhands could arrange for such a thing. Operating a boat was a tough job, so they were busy drinking and singing while they were on land.

As Col prayed that Yosef’s men stayed in moderation that night, he and Myuri made their way to Sharon and the others.

“Let’s go, Brother. Make sure you don’t get kicked off.”

“…All I have to do is hold the reins, right?”

They could not cross the city with Col on wolf Myuri’s back, since there were too many people in such a big city. So while Hans lent them a horse, what made Col raise his concerns was not that he did not have the skill to rush a horse through a city filled with people after dark.

It was the one sitting between his arms—Myuri.

“Yeah. I said I’d eat it if it doesn’t listen to my orders, so I don’t think it’ll listen to anything but what I tell it to do.”

Myuri had said she could not talk directly to wild animals, but it seemed she could convey her general attitude.

He could still hear the pitiful whinny the horse made when she glared up at it.

After being looked at like that, it would probably use its entire life force to run as fast as it could.

“Okay, let’s go!”

Myuri smacked the horse’s neck, and the horse dashed off into the night of Rausbourne with Col and Myuri on its back.

At this time of night in Nyohhira, things were just getting started, and in a city as big as this, the taverns would still be open for a while. Even in a district with rows of luxurious mansions, the rich were milling about on their horses to take in some fresh air to sober themselves up.

The horse, fearful of Myuri’s fangs, galloped with incredible speed, whizzing right by their noses.

“Myuri, Myuri! This is too fa—”

Col’s words flew into the air the moment they entered a busy street where a free-roaming pig was plodding along, trying to get its paltry share from a tavern, and the horse leaped over it without a moment’s hesitation. After a chilling feeling of weightlessness in his stomach, a heavy impact ran through his entire body. Running through town on Myuri’s back when she was a wolf was nothing compared to this fear.

Not only was his line of sight high from the back of a horse to begin with, and he was certain there was nothing that could save him if he fell off, the impact of the horse’s hooves hitting the flagstone shook him from deep within his rear all the way to his brain, which did not afford him the luxury of maintaining composure. All he could concentrate on was frantically keeping his grasp on the reins and clinging as hard as he could to the horse to keep himself from falling off.

The horse barely paid any attention to how haphazardly he was handling the reins, galloping at an unbelievable speed in tandem with how Myuri smacked its neck and pulled on its mane.

While not as crowded as during the daytime, the streets were still full of drunkards and passersby, and whenever the horse avoided them, Col felt as though everything in his skull would come pouring out, and every time they leaped over someone frozen with fear, he prayed for God’s protection.

All of a sudden, after all that, he pitched forward, as though he was being shoved from behind, his nose colliding right into the back of Myuri’s head.

“Hmm? C’mon, what are you doing, Brother? Get off.”

“Rgh…”

Luckily, his nose was okay, but his hands clenching the reins were tense with nerves, and it was only after Myuri hurried him along a second time that he could finally get down from the horse.

The horse stopped in front of the tax collector association hall. Torches were lit on either side of the magnificent entranceway, illuminating the banners with the royal insignia that hung out from the wall and over the street.

These tax collectors, however, were just about to be discarded by that very Kingdom.

“I hope…Miss Sharon is in.”

Col got down from the horse, encouraged himself just as his knees were about to collapse, and managed to keep steady. They came here first and not to the orphanage, where Clark might be, because they were close to the port, and if Sharon was not in, then they could go straight to Yosef to talk to him.

“I think she is. A seabird just looked at us, then went into a hole in the roof.”

It was not a watchdog but a watchbird.

“Then, we’ll go in—”

Just as he started talking, a window above them opened.

“Chicken!” Myuri shouted, not minding the stares coming from around them, and Sharon, who had poked her head out of the window, disappeared back inside and closed it without a word. As Col nudged Myuri’s head, the door soon opened.

“What do you want?”

Sharon appeared, holding a sheathed sword in her right hand. It seemed less like she had come to cut them down after being called a chicken but more that she had sensed this was a situation that required a sword.

For a moment, Col was unsure how to tell her.

“The king has sent soldiers to the city.”

There were only two possibilities that phrase could mean.

Either that war with the Church had begun or…

“To arrest the tax collectors.”

Sharon’s eyes widened for a brief moment, then immediately closed. She scrunched up her face so tightly, they could almost hear it, and she then returned to her regular expressionless look.

“The king is trying to set you all up as bad people.”

“He’d be okay with just a war with the Church; he’s afraid of the civil war the second heir will cause.”

She came to that conclusion right away. Just by looking at how this whole situation was made up, it seemed like Sharon and the tax collectors were deliberately trying to egg on the friction with the Church for the second heir, and Sharon was fully aware of that.

“However, we have orders from Heir Hyland—we are to save you. We have a boat.”

The boat, however, was wishful thinking. They were planning on borrowing money from Hans to get one.

Sharon had her gaze turned to the sky, and she slowly dropped it to look at Col.

“Save? Save who?”

Col recoiled at her question, not because he did not understand what she meant but because he knew all too well what she meant.

The tax collectors had been discarded at a young age, finally getting their hands on the tool that was a tax collection permit after maturing, obtaining a way to talk with their fathers. Yet, the cathedral kept its doors shut, trying to avoid them with deceitful means. In the end, the king himself pulled up the ladder, trying to push them into oblivion.

Col could not even begin to imagine their suffering, having been constantly toyed with by those in power.

But he had to say it.

“We’ll escape, Miss Sharon.”

You mean to kill my spirit and render me a living corpse?

That was what he imagined she would say, but he could say no more to her face.

Those were not the flames of anger in her eyes.

Those were the eyes of someone who was done with the world.

“It has been the same our entire lives. We get in the way; we’re thrown out. None of the people who’ve gathered here are allowed to have a fighting chance against their fate.”

Behind her, the windows and doors of the hall opened ever so slightly, the tax collectors inside looking out on them. This was not curiosity but protective gazes worried about a respected colleague.

They were connected not simply by money.

“But, Miss Sharon.” Col managed to speak only because he could easily guess what she was going to say next. “What can you do if you stay here? Do you think anything would change by taking sword in hand in the end and forcing your way into the cathedral?”

Then, they would be surrounded by the king’s men, arrested as rioters, and would wait for their judgment.

This society was the kind that would cut off a child’s hand for stealing a piece of bread. They could not be optimistic about what could be waiting for them.

“Nothing,” she spat out. “But I’m sure I’ll feel great when I cut off their heads.”

Her twisted smile sent a shiver down his spine.

“Ah-choo!”

Just as he whirled around at the out-of-place sneeze, Myuri shoved him and he stumbled forward.

Myuri stood before Sharon, rubbing her nose.

“Just say what you want to say already. It’ll be my job to comfort my brother when he’s tormented by regret in the future. So you can stop with the bad acting.”

Col was astonished by what she said.

His gaze darted to Sharon, and just for a brief moment, he thought he saw the gentle expression she wore with the children in the orphanage.

“Not all the tax collectors can wield swords. Some of us are orphans. If we can’t at least put our regrets into our blades, then we’ll never be able to believe in the future again.”

“But can’t you escape out into the ocean, even if you don’t make any feints now? Mister Yosef’s boat is big and fast, you know,” Myuri said.

Col’s eyes widened when she said “feints.” They were planning on getting the soldiers’ attention by breaking into the cathedral and letting everyone else escape in the meanwhile. Her display of fanatical hate was her way of showing them there was no use in persuading her to begin with.

She had been calm from beginning to end.

“No.”

She spoke calmly and without hesitation.

“Your ship is a commercial one, isn’t it? Even with oars, it can’t get very fast with how round it is.”

The ships soldiers used in war, on the other hand, were straight and slender like barracudas, with oars packed on either side. A ship like that had caught up to them in an instant when they were escaping from the northern islands, and it had rammed into their side.

“Not to mention the large number of people on board. We’d have to divert their attention while also lessening the cargo.”

Sharon stuck her sword, sheath and all, into the ground.

Her resolve was indomitable.

Perhaps she knew that things would turn out like this one day when she decided to fight against the cathedral.

But when he saw how collected her expression was, something struck him.

That was not it.

There was something else on her face.

“Miss Sharon.” Before he could help it, he called to her, his tone imploring. “Please don’t lose hope for tomorrow.”

Myuri, who was world-class in seeing through the inner workings of the human mind, stared at him, wide-eyed.

She was like the midsummer sun, and perhaps that had not crossed her mind.

“…How?”

When she said that, he knew.

Sharon’s calm was not the result of careful calculation, that she would turn into her bird form and escape if the time called for it or that she would act out, get arrested, and be used as a warning in order to let others escape.

There was no tragic but brave resolution; he felt nothing but calm from her.

Sharon no longer expected anything of the world.

She had given up; even if she escaped by boat, all that would extend before her would be the cold land she was so used to.

“You’re only keen when it comes to stuff like this. I mean, you are a servant of God, after all.” Sharon smiled ironically and shrugged. “If I can show them that no matter how cruel the world is, there are people out there willing to risk their lives to protect them, at least others will be able to hold on to their hope. They might be able to put their hopes into the future, even if they move on somewhere else. But…I don’t know if that really means salvation, though.”

She murmured; whenever she had hope, it was crushed.

The woman’s gaze came between Myuri and himself.

By the time he realized it, Myuri was holding his hand.

“But you know, I think it does.”

She smiled peacefully and lifted up the sword in one graceful motion, pointing it at Col’s chest.

“Can I let you take care of the boat? Everything there belongs to merchants and fishermen; there are no honest men among them who would help us when we’re in danger, since we took taxes from them.”

It was almost as though Sharon’s hopes flowed through the tip of the sword.

“Of course. And you—”

The one who interrupted him was Myuri, who shook off his hand and stepped forward.

“I’ll help. You can’t do anything by yourself, chicken.”

While not as fearsome as Holo, Myuri in her wolf form was still a good match for human soldiers. She could probably escape with Sharon in her mouth if they found themselves on the brink of death.

Sharon, however, shook her head.

She shook it firmly several times.

“This is my story. Please. I want the assurance that I’ve carved my own path at least once in the end.”

She then shoved the tip of the sword harder into Col’s chest, and he stumbled backward.

Even though there were only a few steps between the two of them, he could easily mistake her for being light-years away.

He could see the faces of the tax collectors behind Sharon.

The only ones who could truly understand their pain were themselves.

“The only thing I expect of you is good news about the boat.”

That was all Sharon said before whirling on her heel and going back inside the hall. The tax collectors peeking out of the windows all pulled back at once, and they could hear Sharon shouting from the other side of the door.

They might be able to tie her up and stuff her into the boat. But they would not be able to bind her spirit; it would stay trapped in the cathedral in Rausbourne.

Col clenched the hand that Myuri had held, opened it, then clenched it again.

She was not a domestic animal that received only as it lived; she would fly through the sky with her own wings, catch her food with her own talons.

They could not overturn Sharon’s decision, and Col had a feeling that no one should.

“Myuri.” He called her name, and she wiped her face with her sleeve before turning around to face him. “Let’s go. There are still things we can and have to do.”

Even if they could not persuade Sharon, interference was the specialty of the servants of God.

Col inhaled deeply, then exhaled.

Even if Yosef agreed to help, Sharon was of the opinion they would not be able to completely escape.

However, he still had connections he could get ahold of.

“You’ve heard the phrase selling your soul to the devil, haven’t you?”

Sharon had entrusted him with a faint thread of light.

Perhaps it was to show that she still held hope, even if it was small.

Myuri opened her eyes and nodded firmly.

Just as they got on the horse and set off, the evening bell echoed throughout Rausbourne. While it was often used to signal the time and market days and to welcome nobles when they visited, it was also used to communicate danger to the city.

Word of a fire. An enemy attack.

The city council had received contact from the king, and they declared a state of emergency. The declaration was likely being read just at that moment outside of city hall.

They were headed to an eerie part of the city, made even creepier by the unearthly ringing of the bell. A place that felt even emptier when imagining how it had once thrived.

The old public wheat warehouse sat in the darkness of the night, the very shape of silence.

“Just like Miss Sharon said, Mister Yosef’s boat alone could easily be caught up to.”

“He had an oar ship, right?”

And with Eve’s connections, they should easily be able to gather ships. Ships cost money, but Eve had infinite money.

“But do you think she’ll listen to us?”

He could not answer Myuri’s quiet question.

They dashed up the stone steps and knocked on the door.

“Miss Eve! It’s me! Tote Col!”

He thought she might be out somewhere at a lively place in town for a drink, but her personality told him that she would not leave her own bed empty.

Just as he thought, a sharp gaze peered out of the peeping window.

“What do you need?”

“Everything to do with Miss Eve’s business.”

He knew saying it like that would be the most effective. The guard’s eyes widened slightly and he said, “Wait,” before disappearing inside. It was not actually all that long of a moment, but Col grew impatient, and just as he was about to knock on the door again, the door unlocked.

“Come in.”

“Thank you.”

The inside of the manor was dark and silent.

There were not even candlestands up in the hallway, and Col wondered if Eve really was in, but there was a constant breeze like there had been when they came during the day, so he knew that a window was wide-open somewhere.

Still, he felt like there had been no wind outside, so he wondered why it was so breezy inside here…when they reached the room on the fourth floor.

Eve was on the balcony, candles and a meal on the table beside her.

She seemed to have been enjoying an abundant dinner with the umbrella girl as they gazed out to the lights of the port.

“What is it? It’s earlier than the the time we agreed on.” Eve spoke as she spat an olive pit out over the balcony.

“Miss Eve, your deal and our wishes were all but houses of cards.”

Eve, who had been sitting loosely in her large chair, adjusted her posture, now interested.

“What do you mean?”

“The king has mobilized his army. They will surround the city sometime tonight and arrest the tax collectors.”

It was possible that the knight had said “dawn” to just give him hope. Even if he did not, Lawrence had taught him that saying there was no time was an old negotiation trick.

“As…Heir Hyland was on her way to inform the king of your plot and Miss Sharon’s motives, they apparently came across communications officers, and they came to inform us. That bell is not the signal for a fire.”

After Eve stared hard at him, she turned her gaze away.

“…This isn’t just to avoid war with the Church. I guess he couldn’t stand the fear of that unruly prince starting internal conflict.”

Eve’s eyes glinted gold, illuminated by the soft, wavering light of the candles on the table.

“The kings of this country have been unreliable for generations. Kingdom of sheep, indeed.” She practically spat when she spoke, balling up her napkin and throwing it onto the table.

The umbrella girl hugged the jug of wine to her chest, shaken up by Eve’s sulkiness.

“Our feast is over. Once the king’s made up his mind, it won’t easily be overruled. Nothing good will happen to a merchant who tries to approach a ruler like that.”

A king was someone who could create things as he pleased, even the laws the people followed. Eve might be Eve, but this was not someone she could confront.

“I have to ask you a favor, Miss Eve.”

Col called out to her as she gazed across the nighttime sea, thinking.

“You probably do. I didn’t think you came to tell me this out of kindness.”

He flinched when she smiled wickedly at him, but when he thought about Sharon and the other tax collectors’ suffering, he knew he could not afford to be overwhelmed here.

“Might I ask for you to arrange a boat?”

Eve still faced the harbor, only her eyes moving to look at him.

They were cold, like a slave trader appraising merchandise.

“You’re not going to ask me to save the tax collectors?”

“I have traveled with Mr. Lawrence and spent a long time working for him.”

A slight smile crossed Eve’s face.

“Heh. Indeed. There’s no point in acting humble in negotiation unless you’re already on top. I’d give you a pass for broaching the subject like that.”

“Our acquaintance’s boat is not enough.”

Eve held her tongue and hummed.

“Miss Eve, please.”

Col took a step forward and continued.

“How much would it cost to get you to do it?”

She should be able to prepare a boat for them without question.

The main question was if Eve could see a benefit to doing so.

“What if that meant selling your body?”

The one who reacted to Eve’s question was Myuri.

“And what if the price ends up being your life?”

Myuri placed something on the scales not even Col thought she would, and Eve’s eyes widened before she grinned.

“Heh. I wonder if that gloomy old wolf was like this a long time ago, too.”

Out of all the people in the world, Eve was likely the only one allowed to call Holo an “old wolf.”

“Your business proposal is sound but lacks a conclusion. If you wanted to show you were serious, you should’ve come alone. If you did, I probably would’ve thought it over seriously.”

It would be hard for the guards to stop Myuri if she was a wolf, even if they all banded together. However, in order to get Eve to listen to Col, it depended on the situation as to whether or not she would allow that sort of violence, and they had not met the standards for that.

As a result of her quiet calculations, Eve smiled gracefully.

“If you were just acting in accordance with your own selfish, dirty gains, then I’d be fine using dirty methods to match, but you’re acting on justice. There’s only so much I can do,” Eve said, her tone somewhat compassionate. And she then quickly added, “There’s nothing in it for me helping the tax collectors.”

Renting out a boat was not free, and that was even doubly so when there was danger involved.

The tax collectors did not seem to have any assets.

And so all he could say was this:

“If I work for you, would the costs not come back to you straightaway?”

The name of the Twilight Cardinal had to have lasting power.

And he would not mind dirty work, if that meant he could save Sharon and the tax collectors’ lives and futures.

“You must be steeling yourself somehow, but I can see in your face that you’ve estimated I won’t make you do work that’s too dirty.” Eve smiled gleefully, an indescribable beauty and terror about her.

“Is that bad?”

“Not at all. Jumping straight in without seeing through the one you’re speaking to is something a coward does. And, well, your judgment is mostly correct.”

“We’ll see about that,” Myuri said viciously, and Eve shrugged.

“If you want to use him most effectively as a tool, then you should be feeding him the food of justice. Isn’t that right?”

Myuri nodded firmly and glanced briefly at Col. Her expression read that Eve was correct, even if she did not want to admit it.

“Regular people have moderate parts good and evil in them. That’s why anything they come up with is so inadequate. The priests in the cathedral are a good example, aren’t they?” Eve said, then stood from her chair and stretched lightly.

She looked just like an elegant noble, who was truly appreciating how beautiful the harbor was at night.

“But you have a faith that I find almost unbelievable. Actually, it might not even be faith. That’s your personality. You are unforgiving of anything crooked, and you think this world needs to be set straight. I guess you could even call it prejudice.”

“Are you complimenting me?”

“Of course,” Eve responded, then took a thin slice of sausage from the table and tossed it in her mouth. “Whether it be faith or justice, whenever your furnace is fed with what you believe in, you can melt even steel. That is how you’ve come to set all these crooked things straight, from Atiph to here.”

“So then, your arranging for a ship would be a cheap deal, would it not?”

When he informed her of that, Eve turned around to face him and shook her head. It was not a hard-boiled look, nor a wicked one, nor one of exasperation at a young man bringing up foolish transactions.

It was with a terribly sad expression that she shook her head.

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“Why?!”

Col could even say that whether or not the tax collectors would be saved rested on Eve.

Sharon no longer hoped for anything from the days to come, and she was trying to sacrifice herself to at least give the others hope. And she was trusting in him.

Col stepped forward, and the umbrella girl opened her mouth, about to call for help.

Eve signaled with her hand to stop her and spoke.

“If I used someone like you in a deal, it wouldn’t be hard to make a little pocket change. But I don’t think that would be enough to pay to put the tax collectors on a boat and get them away from the king chasing them.”

“But—”

“You’ve sent Lord Hyland to the king anyway, haven’t you? In that case, it would be totally obvious I let them get away. Right now, I’m nothing more than a suspicious miser trying to use the cathedral’s plans for her own selfish motives. But if I let go of the prey the king is after, I would be a clear traitor. I could never conduct trade in this country again for another decade…No, not until the next king forgets about this.”

Eve smiled at the umbrella girl to calm her and then turned back to look at Col.

“And I’m a merchant. I make a living by looking at how the scales tip and extracting profit from that. That’s why I can’t trust you.”

“I can’t trust you.” Col’s breath hitched when he heard her say that. It was because no matter what sort of insults might be right about him, he had a feeling that was not correct.

“Heh. I want to title that A Shocked Face and hang it up on my wall.”

His cheeks burned when Eve smiled spitefully.

It was Myuri who stopped it there.

“This is my fault, Brother.”

Col whirled around in confusion.

“What?”

“It’s my fault she can’t trust you. Right?”

Myuri directed her last question to Eve, and Eve stood there silently.

Eve looked as though she was gazing at something dazzling in the distance, something she could never obtain.

“You’re right. I’ll never be first for you. That’s why I can’t trust you.”

Eve was twice—no, three times his age. Of course, perhaps it was because of her brilliant wit that she did not seem weak at all, despite how she was supposedly getting on in years. It almost seemed like she was filled with even more life than when they’d met when Col was little.

But despite that, Eve gave a mournful smile like an old woman.

The reason why he did not think it was an act was because he was sure she was not aware she was making such a face.

“That’s why I’d trust you if you were sending that girl back into the thick steam of the baths,” Eve said without a hint of malice. She said it as though it was obvious, as though she was making a pointless promise that the sun would rise tomorrow in the east.

“If you take the girl back to the mountains; serve me by my side; dress, eat, and live with me; and pledge your loyalty to me, then I’ll consider it.”

What she added was perhaps not a way to hastily cover up her true feelings.

“But you can’t, can you? Your bond with this girl isn’t something that’ll weaken with distance. When your life is in danger, you won’t think back on your contract with me; you’ll think about her. And you’ll probably use anything you can in order to come back alive. Even if it means turning your back on God.”

He could not say anything in return because he could clearly the truth of her words.

“I can’t have someone like that by my side. The more useful you are, the truer it is. Someone useful will serve me well for a while, adding on premium after premium. And then, when you come to a truly important turning point one day, you won’t take me but her.”

Eve quietly shrugged.

“I would lose things more important than my life at the same time—my money and you.”

Eve smiled in self-deprecation, and the umbrella girl stepped softly up to her side.

Eve looked at her and smiled gently.

That was the thought process characteristic of someone who was constantly surrounded by betrayal and deals that might send yesterday’s profits into tomorrow.

But there was also a certainty that someone only backed by experiences could produce.

“And so no. I won’t help you.”

Eve struck down with her hatchet of logic, closing the curtains.

“I won’t save the tax collectors. There are certainly people out there with destinies like that. I’m well aware that me managing to claw my way up was nothing short of a miracle. It’s not unusual.”

Col’s face twisted even further, knowing this was her showing kindness and not her striking on an already unfortunate situation.

“You can worry, groan, and pray to God. You have a devoted girl at your side when you do. There’s your hagiography, no? Your quality as the Twilight Cardinal will only go up, won’t it, Tote Col?”

When she called his name, he looked up.

Standing there was the woman he’d met when he was a child, who had looked out for him so many times.

“You left that dreamlike bathhouse. For what? Surely not to lose yourself in sweet dreams.”

They were words of encouragement, different from what Lawrence, Holo, or even Myuri would say. Eve did not hate him, nor was she trying to drag him into depravity; she simply treated him fairly.

“This conversation is over now. You should deal with struggles your own size.”

He had nothing to say in response. Even though the one who had the means of saving Sharon’s hopes and the tax collectors was right in front of him, he could not reach her.

He remembered how high the edge of the boat was when he had fallen into the dark sea. He remembered how he’d felt then, that the impossible was impossible.

His only salvation was believing that Myuri was there, that she would be willing to drown with him.

“Now, since you gave me that tip, that means I have work to do. If you’ll excuse me.”

That was so the plotting Eve herself could escape. Of course, he could not blame her. There was no connection between the tax collectors and her; rather, she was much closer to them in position than he was. She signaled to the umbrella girl, and they both began to walk off; there was nothing he could do to stop them.

He could not even find fault with them for quickly escaping the city.

Wait.

His inner voice spoke to him.

Eve did not say she was escaping. She said she had work to do.

What he then thought of was the second contract she had undertaken—that of trapping Arugo and company, entrusted to her by the main branches of the companies that wanted to get rid of them.

However, when he thought about how she would be going to the cathedral now in this situation, he could not help speaking.

“Miss Eve, it will be dangerous going to the cathedral. Miss Sharon and the others will be headed there, armed, and the royal communications officers are putting the city council into action by mobilizing the city’s sol—”

He said that much but could not continue.

He was overwhelmed by the look on Eve’s face when she turned to him.

“Miss…Eve?”

“…”

Eve gulped and was shocked back into reality.

She then looked away. Her profile read that she had made a terrible mistake.

What did that mean? Why did she look at him like that?

She was not childish enough to get irritated by his foolish meddling.

There had to be meaning to it.

Why? What sort of work was she planning to do this late in the game?

And, without a doubt, it was something that he was not to know.

“Don’t look at me like that, Col.”

Eve offered a troubled smile.

But Col was not so much of a foolish lamb to be tricked by that smile.

The work she had that he should know nothing about could not be a report on Arugo and company. They already knew about that, and now that the Kingdom had decided to avoid war, he doubted that reporting on Arugo would be meaningful to them in a bad way.

Then, what else was she planning?

Col stared straight into Eve’s eyes. What crossed his mind was the image of the three bulls headbutting one another. Now that she could no longer profit off the tax collectors, there was only one thing left worth using.

The cathedral.

“Col.”

Eve, now irritated, called his name again, and Col reflexively turned around to look over the balcony at the dark sea, faintly lit by the lights from the port.

Eve betrayed the skewed parental love the priests managed to squeeze out and even betrayed her fellow merchants Arugo and company, whom she had called for betrayal itself. It seemed as though there was no end to this darkness.

Then, was it not appropriate there was another level to it? Was it not appropriate for her to have a plan for a time like this? And that concerned the cathedral.

However, it did not seem like Eve would wander up to the cathedral in this situation. He would not be surprised if the whole area around it was already in chaos. More importantly, since Hyland was bringing word of the plot brewing in the city to the king, Eve, who was at the very center of this whole plot, milling around the cathedral would only bring her unwanted suspicion.

Or perhaps, thinking conversely, was she going to ask for protection from the priests?

He felt like it was close, but it was off, somewhat. Would Eve do something so commendable?

No. There was no question that Eve would try to create obligation from the priests. And when Col thought about how she would also fabricate a plan that would benefit her as well, it struck him.

“You’re going to use the archbishop and the priests as shields, aren’t you?”

Eve’s expression stayed frozen. Not even her eyebrow moved an inch.

But that was an expressionless face that only merchants practiced, and the reflexive act meant to keep her emotions hidden instead laid out the contents of her heart clear as day.

Col was right.

Eve was trying to escape from the city, but the conditions she had to overcome were essentially the same as what the tax collectors faced.

The one plan that would guarantee their escape involved the priests in the cathedral, who were the very opponents the king had to pay careful mind to. And most likely, it was not Eve who would be asking for help from the priests, but they would put themselves in a position to show that they saved the priests from the tax collectors’ riot and then demand gratitude from the Church.

That is why, perhaps, she ended up calling it “work.”

And yet, there was still one question remaining.

How was Eve going to get the priests out of the cathedral?

How he came to that conclusion must have made itself evident on his face. Eve’s expression relaxed.

“I’ll send you a letter later.”

That was the composure of a victor.

They were always thoroughly prepared, because they never knew what and when something might happen.

When he thought back to the manor Hyland was renting, he figured it would not be difficult to get the priests out of the cathedral. The cathedral was in the center of the city, after all, which meant it likely had a much older history than the manor, and so—

“Gasp!”

The two things came together like lightning.

Eve acted quickly.

Col only just barely managed to twist himself and block Eve’s hand because he had once heard from Lawrence how fierce she was.

But when his posture crumbled and he fell on his rear, she straddled him, grabbed his collar, and put her weight on him there, ramming his head onto the floor. In his shock, he was almost impressed by how fluid her movements were. He somehow managed to keep his eyes open, and he saw her reach for the dagger on her belt in his field of vision.

Col was not going to hesitate, either.

“Myuri!”

A wolf howled.

Before Eve could fully draw her dagger, a mass of silver passed over Col’s body, and then the beast was pressing her down, faceup on the balcony just a moment later.

“Gah…cough—”

Col readjusted his breathing and calmed his dizziness from having his head hit on the floor. The umbrella girl was wary, but she mostly appeared ready to cry at seeing Eve’s state and did not seem like she was going to draw any weapons.

“Ever since we came to this building…Ahem, something stayed on my mind.”

He stood and looked to the guards, who were entering from the hallway after hearing the commotion.

They of course feared the silver wolf on the balcony who was about to bite their master.

“It’s a quiet, still night. But why is the inside of the building so breezy?”

“Grrrrr…”

As Myuri let the guards know she was watching them, she glanced to Col.

Perhaps she had not noticed it.

“This building is one with a long and honorable history in this district. And large ships could once dock right beside it. That means…”

Even though Eve’s arm was being held in place by Myuri’s paw, she still gripped her dagger and would not let go. Col continued speaking, somewhat impressed by her refusal to give up.

“There’s an underground passage in here, isn’t there?”

One that led all the way to the cathedral.

Eve might have decided to set up camp in such a remote place because of her aesthetic sense, but her aesthetic was money.

“Miss Eve.”

When he said her name, the hand holding the dagger gripped tighter, then relaxed.

After a dry clatter, Eve spoke.

“Stand down.”

The guards tried to resist when she said that, but it lasted only a second.

Myuri growled, baring her fangs. Though she was not as giant as Holo the wisewolf was, she looked frightening enough to let anyone who might encounter her in the forest think that anything but begging for dear life was futile.

“…I underestimated you, thinking you were easy prey, but look at me now,” Eve said with a sigh. “I slipped and said ‘work.’ That was why I lost.”

“You’ve emerged from the shadows with evil plots plenty of times, so of course even I would be on my toes.”

Eve smiled, and Myuri apparently put even more pressure on her, since she groaned.

“Myuri.”

Col warned her, and after her tail swished back and forth, she looked at him, unsatisfied.

“Will you spare my life?”

Eve did not seem like she was asking for any pity at all, but she knew that Myuri was eager to rip her head off.

“That depends on you.”

“…”

And unbelievably, Eve fell silent.

He almost felt respect for her, that she did not readily say yes in a situation like this, and for some reason, it even made him happy.

“What are you going to make me do?”

It was almost as though she was threatening to kill herself by biting out her own tongue, depending on what his answer was.

“Miss Sharon and the tax collectors are forcing their way into the cathedral. And you can help them.”

Myuri hung heavily over Eve as she made a terribly disgusted face.

“…I don’t think so, but if I say no, I’ll only become a snack, won’t I?”

Col stood and looked down at Eve as he petted Myuri while she growled.

“You might not like it, but that is your only option. Open the cathedral doors, let in Miss Sharon and the others, take them here, and put them on a boat you’ll prepare. If the priests are also on board, then the king can’t touch them. Is that not correct?”

“Logically, yes,” Eve said and sighed. “I’ll give it a shot. At the very least, we could easily help them, and if I show myself, then I’ll fulfill the promise I made.”

While Eve was fine betraying the priests, she had made a contract to help them when the time called for it. She was no one’s ally—it was all for the money.

“Then lead the way, Myuri.”

Myuri turned back to Col, then as a final desperate tactic, she pressed down hard on Eve’s chest, then released her front paws.

“Myuri, I want to do something about Mr. Clark and the children and bring them here.”

They must be shaking at the sound of the emergency bell back in the orphanage, without a clue as to what was going on.

Despite the situation they were in, Myuri rubbed her neck against him like a clingy dog, demanding he pet her. When he ran his hands through her oddly fluffy yet stiff fur, she huffed in approval.

“Providing is preventing, isn’t it, Brother? Write a letter. I’ll give it to the dogs and make them deliver it.”

Myuri had threatened every stray dog they encountered on the streets. She said that Ilenia, the sheep avatar, had taught her that she should make allies of the animals in town for when they needed them.

“Miss Eve.”

“Fine, fine. Hey, weren’t you listening?”

Eve looked to her guards and barked orders. The guards seemed to hardly believe that Myuri spoke and were literally shaking in their boots. They hurriedly retrieved paper and ink from the shelves in the room and placed them on the floor.

“There are some people I want to escape here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Col double-checked with Eve, and she sulkily looked away in a huff.

“None of this will make me money, honestly,” she complained, sitting cross-legged.

The secret passage was on the first floor, which was half in the ground and once meant to hold large amounts of wheat, behind a false wall, which was behind a pile of bricks, which was behind a stack of junk.

The closer they got, the more obvious the breeze was, making small whistling noises as it passed through the bricks.

“Grrr…”

Myuri slowly approached, kicking the bricks away with her front paws, then immediately bit into the chains wrapping around the portcullis that appeared from behind.

“Hey, I have a key.”

She paid no mind to Eve’s command, ripping into the chains as if they were sculptured candy.

“…Those chains are made from good iron…”

By that, Eve did not mean she was amazed that Myuri could bite through something so high quality; she meant that they were particularly valuable items.

“You all go first, Miss Eve.”

“…I have limits to my recklessness, you know. I’m not going to attack you.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Eve sighed, signaled to her guards with a glance, and sent them in first. The umbrella girl and the massive man stayed behind in the warehouse for when Clark and the children came.

As long as Myuri stayed by Eve’s side, she would not betray them.

“I’m practically a prisoner. Is this what you want?”

Col nodded and motioned for her to walk.

The underground passage was cool and damp, but it was well maintained, as though people had passed through it many times. There were even used candles that were not particularly old stuck in the candleholders placed here and there throughout the hallway. The ceiling was high enough that they could walk around normally, so perhaps it had been used in real wars a long time ago.

None of them spoke, and what Col thought about as they walked through the passage was what Eve had said.

They would open the cathedral doors from the inside, harbor Sharon and company as they put the other tax collectors through the underground passages and onto the boat Eve prepared. The king’s men would likely not touch them if there was a priest with them.

Logically, that was correct, and Eve recognized that. That was because Eve herself was planning on making her getaway that way in the first place.

And yet, she was negative toward a plan that included the tax collectors.

He doubted she had a plan in motion after all that…No, would that be letting his guard down?

He could sense nothing from her as she walked ahead of him.

And they had no choice but to do it. There was no time left.

“Hmm?”

Then Eve stopped. Myuri, too, had her ears perked.

“Judging by our position, it’s probably the group of tax collectors heading for the cathedral.”

The air was vibrating slightly around them. There were many people walking above them.

“Let us hurry.”

Eve shrugged and started walking again.

They then walked about the distance of one parish. At the end of the passage, there was another portcullis, similar to the one they’d entered through. Eve watched silently as Myuri bit at it and twisted the metal lock, ripping it to shreds as sparks flew everywhere.

“A vault?”

They went up the stairs, illuminating their way with the candles they held in hand, and they saw silver cups and various ornaments tucked away on the shelves.

“Take some with you on our way out, and that’ll give you a little pocket change,” Eve joked, signaling to her guards to open the lock on the door.

“The vault door locks from the inside?”

“The front entrance is also the invasion entrance. This is the way you want to go if you’re coming in from the cathedral.”

Col nodded, understanding.

“Now, only God knows if this will turn out the way you want it to.”

She likely deliberately said it like that, since they were in the cathedral.

They exited the vault along with Eve and company, coming out onto a chilly stone hallway.

There were images of parts of the scripture and banners with the Church’s insignia on the walls.

They then went up another staircase, removed a wooden board that blocked their way overhead, and came up behind the most beautiful part of the cathedral, the nave pulpit, where the services took place. Right above their heads, angels painted on the ceiling smiled down at them.

“…”

Col knew, of course, that the cathedral was massive. But the inside was emptier than he had imagined.

He looked to Myuri, whose pointed wolf ears were twitching every which way as she glared at Eve, a growl rumbling deep in her throat.

“Hey, stop looking at me like that. This isn’t a trap.”

It was not just Col’s imagination that the place was exceptionally empty. He sensed no human movement anywhere.

“And it’s not abandoned. They’re probably in the copy room. This way.”

They followed Eve’s lead. The echoing of their footsteps was dreadfully loud and almost felt eerie.

And what bothered him the most were the faint sounds of the earth rumbling.

“I would appear that all our actors are taking their places in the plaza.” Eve noticed that had been concernedly looking toward the cathedral’s main entrance, and she explained. “Well, I doubt the soldiers from the city council will end up fighting with the tax collectors. The city guard is just like them—they’re drifters with a little more guts. I don’t think they’re going to fight by putting their lives in danger. They’ll probably stare down one another until the king’s army gets here.”

As he hoped that would be the case, they went from the nave to the aisle, then into a hallway with a row of rooms. Eve turned to the left without a moment’s hesitation and loudly knocked on one of the doors.

“It’s me, Eve. I’m opening the door.”

Above them was a carving of a demon with the words SILENCE IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD.

When she opened the door, the pungent smells of parchment and ink wafted around them.

“You have a guest, Your Grace.”

As Col tried to enter the room after Eve, Myuri got close enough to rub against him, and they entered together. He realized later she was being cautious of a surprise attack.

“A guest…?”

It then seemed like a white ball of fluff stirred. It was a lone old priest with a long white mustache and beard, his large, corpulent body hunched over the writing desk.

“This is…a surprise.”

He seemed to be shocked by Myuri’s presence, but he was relieved to see her sitting obediently by Col’s side.

“This here is more of a surprise. It’s the Twilight Cardinal.”

The archbishop’s eyes widened and looked to Col.

“What…? You’re…?”

“My name is Tote Col.”

He greeted the man, but he was not sure what sort of look he should wear on his face. If this was the archbishop, then that meant he was a priest who plotted while knowing all about Sharon and the other tax collectors, who refused to either acknowledge his sins or even talk with them in secret. A despicable fallen man too eager to preserve himself.

However, the old priest she called the archbishop was not much different from the other high-ranking clergy he often saw in the baths of Nyohhira. They were quirky but rich with knowledge and experience and dedication to their holy work. They loved alcohol and meat just as much; they were more gluttonous than any young person.

He was not evil.

But he was not good, either.

“…I am the archbishop of the Rausbourne diocese, Fras Yagine…But…” Yagine, perplexed, grasped at his beard that reached his waist. “Eve, why did you bring him to me?”

“It’s my contract. I made a promise to bail you out when the time calls for it.”

“What…?”

“I guess you didn’t hear the bell. The king is closing in on the city.”

Yagine looked rather surprised, but he did not immediately stand from his chair.

He simply gave a tired sigh.

“I see. And so why did you bring him here—?”

“I want to save the tax collectors,” Col interjected, and Yagine turned to look at him. “Your Grace, I will be opening the cathedral doors.”

“The doors? No, wait, wait a second. The king is laying siege to the city? But what for? Has he decided to wage war with the Church?”

Yagine looked to Eve, and Eve gave a vexed sigh.

“The opposite. He was afraid of the Kingdom going to war with the Church because of the tax collectors pressuring you. He’s here to arrest them.”

“I-impossible…! The tax collectors are working under royal authority…and if they’re just going to make amends with the Church, then that shouldn’t be necessary!”

“Think about whose backing the tax collectors have. It’s that unruly prince,” Eve said.

The old priest’s eyes widened, and he then placed his hand on his forehead.

“Heir Klevend…He hasn’t given up on the throne yet?”

“It’s the same as you clinging to your position.”

There were as many thorns in their conversation as Col could think of.

Eve smiled, and Yagine drew up his shoulders.

“…I can’t deny that. But—”

“You want to tell me you have your reasons, I’m sure. I’m tired of hearing it. Everyone has their own circumstances. I’m sure that also applies to why you are here alone, is it not?”

What happened to the others?

They had all escaped long ago, and Yagine here had taken on the final responsibility on his own.

“…I am the archbishop. The only time I may leave this place is when God calls me.”

“I’m sorry I had to be the one to call you,” Eve said as she shrugged, rapping her fist on the nearby bookrest. “Make the necessary prepartions—quickly. Just as the contract states, I’ve got the boat ready.”

“W-wait. What about what the Twilight Cardinal just said?” Yagine asked, turning to Col.

He was likely worried about Sharon and the others.

Col felt an indescribable irritation looking at the man’s good-natured face.

“Miss Sharon and the rest have consistently been treated cruelly and have lost faith in the future. And yet, they have taken their swords in their hands, believing that by sacrificing themselves, they can allow the orphans and others on their side to escape, and that gives them hope that someone will help all those who make it out.”

When he’d asked Sharon what breaking into the cathedral with the intentions of dying would accomplish, she had said, “Nothing would change. But I’m sure I’ll feel great when I cut off their heads.”

That twisted smile of hers was not an act but a genuine facet of herself.

But he felt nothing more than a nauseating sadness when he imagined how she might feel when she found out it was Yagine who she would be standing up to as a result of her hate.

Sharon could probably swing her sword in peace if Yagine turned out to be an abominable evildoer, who constantly hurled insults until he was red in the face, who scrabbled by any means necessary in order to survive.

However, the man sitting in his chair and looking at Col was far from that sort of evildoer. It was clear that Yagine alone had stayed behind at the cathedral, a place meant for countless priests, their apprentices, and those looking for meager work to gather.

It was also unlikely it was only Yagine who was the closest thing to a good person and that all the rest were evil. There was no doubt they argued countless times among themselves, picking through their brains, faith, good nature, parental love, and of course their attachment to their positions for a way to deal with Sharon and company while also preserving the Church’s standing as one of the largest cathedrals within the organization in the Kingdom.

They all had their own excuses.

He could tell that just by looking at Yagine’s pained expression.

But the reality was that they had not helped anyone.

And yet, now, they still could.

“Your Grace, we will open the doors to the cathedral. We will then invite Miss Sharon and the others inside, go through the underground passage, and all escape to sea on the ship with Miss Eve and company. Okay?”

Yagine pursed his lips and held his breath.

Under normal circumstances, there was no need for him to ask the archbishop’s permission. He could just order Myuri to leer at him and then open the doors as he pleased while he was trapped.

Yet, he asked for permission because he wanted Yagine to make up his mind.

He did not want him to keep running from Sharon and the tax collectors but to stand before them.

“Your Grace.”

Col took a step forward, and Yagine tightly shut his eyes and spoke.

“Twilight Cardinal, please let me speak.”

“About what? What more could you possibly say?!”

It was after Col yelled, fed up with how this man just wanted to keep running.

“Do you have a place to escape to?”

He caught Col off guard.

Col was surprised he’d asked such a stupid question but also surprised that he himself did not have an answer.

“I can open the door and invite the tax collectors inside. I can pass through the underground tunnels and get on Eve’s ship. But…” Yagine restlessly stroked his long white beard, as though he was thinking as he spoke. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened, his cheeks flushed, and he continued after turning to the ceiling as though asking for help. “But yes…After all that, we have nowhere to go. It’s a bad move.”

“Why?!”

The king did not want to fight with the Church. That meant he would not attack a ship if the archbishop was on it. He should be free to go where he pleased; he just needed to find a convenient spot and get off there.

“Eve…Do you agree?”

Yagine, bewildered, looked to Eve. Eve sighed and looked to Col.

“Col. This is about appearances.”

“Appearances?”

“The tax collectors take up arms in anger and break into the cathedral. The doors open; they pour in. But afterward, after some sort of miracle, they take the archbishop to the port and openly escape by boat. How do you think people on the outside would interpret that?”

“…”

He froze in shock.

“It’d just look like they took the archbishop as hostage and escaped, wouldn’t it? The king would fear the breakdown of the settlement talks and frantically chase them to the ends of the earth. He needs to prove that the Kingdom isn’t to blame, you see. And on the other hand, how do you think the Church would approach this?”

After Eve brushed him off, Yagine answered painfully.

“The pope…would see the acts caused by the Twilight Cardinal and judge that he would no longer be able to stand idly by, and he’d actively start a war with the Kingdom in order to turn the situation around. Then…he would certainly want to light that spark before the Kingdom can extend an obvious hand of reconciliation.”

And then what would happen if he received a report that the tax collectors in question were on the same ship as the archbishop from the cathedral?

“There’s no doubt he would sink that ship. I’d do it. The dead tell no tales. The Church would put the ship under themselves, then say with a straight face that the Kingdom did it. It’s all about appearances,” Eve said in an easygoing manner.

“And yet,” Yagine added, turning to look at Col apologetically.

It was almost as though he was sorry for being unable to help Sharon and the others.

“You want me to open the door and get on the boat as you suggest, like it’s nothing?”

Even if there was more to it, Col doubted that the hate in Sharon’s eyes was an act.

“As for your safety, at the very least, I can—”

“No, Twilight Cardinal. That is not what I mean.”

Yagine suddenly stood and spoke with a tragic spirit, as though he was pleading to God.

“I don’t care if they rip me to shreds. But what if they don’t? I doubt they would approve of leaving me whole and getting on a boat with someone like me at the same time! I can imagine it—they would stand before me, stare at me without a hint of either anger or compassion, and then shove me into the underground passages. Then they’d seal it off and just wait for the king’s forces to come!”

Sharon was cool and rational. She even had the eyes to stare quietly at the scales as she stood beside the raging flames of hatred.

Say that the cathedral doors opened, Sharon found them, and Col proposed that she use the archbishop as a shield to get on the ship and escape. This was Sharon, after all, so she would likely realize the possibility that they would be left stranded at sea in a terrible situation, targets of both the Church and the king, just like Eve and Yagine said.

And then what would happen?

He could easily imagine it.

This was Sharon they were talking about—she would let the archbishop escape, and they would remain alone in the cathedral.

Then they would accomplish their roles as decoys.

“You cannot open that door, Twilight Cardinal.”

Myuri stepped before Yagine and growled.

Yet, Yagine stepped forward, as though he had not spotted wolf Myuri at all.

“You cannot open that door. As long as the door stays closed, there are still solutions. If we open the door and let the tax collectors inside, that would give definitive proof that they broke into the cathedral. If that happens, then the only measure the king can take is execution. After beheading the rioters, he might negotiate with the papal office to ask they wipe this all from the records. We must keep the door closed to save the tax collectors. If we do, then we still have the option of me defending the tax collectors…no, my sons and daughters with my own hand! That is the only sliver of hope we have left!”

It was much too rational to be a made-up story for self-preservation.

And yet, could he just abandon Sharon and the others after all this? Even though the ship that might save them was just down the passage?

Perhaps it was true that Yagine would defend Sharon and company, but the question was how useful it could be. Since the king was worried about Heir Klevend’s civil war, he had to inform the tax collectors all over the Kingdom about this policy so that the same problem would not repeat itself.

There were plenty of reasons to cut off the tax collectors’ heads.

“But then…we…”

Col was unable to continue or breathe very well.

Yagine looked at him.

His expression was that of a friend who shared his pain.

“The reason we just could not confront our sons and daughters was because we were afraid that it would become the cause of war. If word somehow got out that we spoke with them, then one could even say that the cathedral would suddenly fall.”

And that was why they planned what they did, because they figured that looking like cowards was much preferable to the great tragedy that would be war between the Kingdom and the Church.

“Twilight Cardinal.” Yagine inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “That wolf is a nonhuman, is she not?”

Col was startled.

Yagine knew about Myuri. He had a dangerous card in his hand.

Yagine’s clear blue eyes gently gazed at Col’s tense expression.

“I knew it. I’m Sharon’s father,” Yagine said, looked to Myuri, and dropped to one knee. “Those are the eyes of one who wants to bite me.”

A growl rumbled in Myuri’s throat and she lowered herself. It was to show that she would leap at him at any time, and it was not an act.

“I see you heard the story from Sharon, and you must think of me as cold-blooded, that I unilaterally dumped my wife. But please allow me to speak. The relationship between a man and a woman is complicated—”

“It’d sound more convincing if you weren’t the archbishop,” Eve interrupted, and Yagine smiled dryly.

But Col understood. Indeed. That had to be right.

Yagine’s selfishness as a priest could not have been the only reason for the deterioration of his relationship with Sharon’s mother—there had to be several reasons.

“Well…I am a priest, and that was one cause; that much is for certain. We were considerate of each other’s positions at first, but over time it grew complicated, and by the end we were hurling abuses at each other. It was an ugly breakup. I was naive and a fool. That hasn’t changed, though…”

He did not seem like he was lying. It was clear that Myuri, her stance lowered, was desperately trying to stimulate her own anger by growling.

Perhaps it was true that Sharon’s mother decided she would never associate with humans again.

But naturally, the possibility it could be a common reason, one gained from a marital relationship between two normal people, did exist. Just because it was a romance between priest and nonhuman, that did not mean it always had to be special and miraculous.

“Twilight Cardinal.” Yagine stood, smiling softly; gripped the crest of the Church that hung around his neck; and slowly bowed his head. “Thank you for getting angry, grieving, and coming this far on behalf of my daughter. I give you thanks from the bottom of my heart.”

Col was not sure what he should say to the man before him.

He thought perhaps everything he had done until now was pointless, that all it was going to do was throw the world into chaos.

“By the way, Eve. Will you help out with assisting the people who Sharon wants to save?”

“Can I take payment from the vault?”

“Of course—I don’t mind. We’ll say I took it.”

“Can do. I’ll get their attention by lighting up your ship and finding myself a fishing boat in the meanwhile. It’ll take care of their living expenses for the time being.”

Yagine nodded.

“There should be a hardworking pastor teaching reading and writing to the children at the orphanage. He would be a great asset to your company.”

It was just when Eve smiled wryly in response to what he said they heard the hum of voices coming from outside the room and down the hall.

“Brother.”

Myuri, perhaps thinking there was no need to hide who she was anymore, called out.

“Is it Clark?”

Myuri nodded, so Col whirled around and went into the hallway. He came face-to-face with Clark just as he appeared in the aisle from the nave.

“Your Eminence!”

“Clark!”

He then immediately turned around and acted as though he was doing his best to calm someone.

And then silhouettes appeared, as though ignoring his attempts to restrain them.

They were children, holding wooden sticks and pots in hand.

“You’ll have to face us!”

“Hey! That’s not going to happen! They’re not the enemy!”

Clark was desperately trying to calm the bloodthirsty children. Col was so relieved, he felt as though his knees would give way.

“I’m sorry. They insisted they come along and would not listen to me…I told them to wait in the public wheat granary.”

“It’s all right.”

“And…what on earth is going on? Where are Sharon and the others?”

Col tried to inform Clark of the situation in response, but his brain was barely functioning.

And it was much too painful to leave Sharon with nothing but the oh-so-faint thread of hope and tell Clark and the rest to run.

“Well…”

“Clark, was it?”

He heard Yagine’s voice from behind him.

“Your Grace!”

“If you want to do anything to help Sharon, then the best thing is to follow our orders without question. We will arrange for your safe escape and so that you may live on.”

The information was so sudden that Clark could only stand there frozen in place, his mouth half-open.

“Are these the children from your orphanage?”

Regardless of Clark’s reaction, Yagine smiled at all the children he was trying to save, and the children looked back at him with eyes filled with hostility.

Yagine barely seemed to mind and stayed smiling.

“Eve here will take care of your living expenses for the time being. But I’m sure you must be anxious about the future, so I’ll give you a letters patent.”

As though finally swallowing what had been caught in his throat, Clark’s Adam’s apple moved as he gulped before he spoke.

“Please wait, Your Grace. I have no idea what you’re talking about…And I am a simple pastor. What would I do with a letters—?”

“You will no longer be a pastor,” Yagine said, a hint of mischief in his voice, and extended his hand as though giving the sacrament. “Under the patronage and marvels of God, and in the name of Fras Yagine, archbishop of the Rausbourne diocese, I name you as abbot of a new monastery.”

“…What?”

“I give you a letters patent for the construction of a new monastery. Run your orphanage from there. The Church will not find fault with a monastery. I’m sure Eve will donate a great sum of money for the operating costs.”

They turned around and Eve, leaning against the wall, arms folded, scrunched up her face in displeasure.

“If you teach those brats how to read and write and make useful people out of them, then I’ll pay.”

Yagine was not someone who was content to simply sit and contemplate—he was someone who had made his way through the world.

“Now, let us prepare. We can’t flee hardship by parting the sea like in the scripture, but escaping by going underground is rather similar,” Yagine said particularly cheerfully, clapping his hands. “What is it now? God speaks of timeliness. Without the right actions, the right time, and the right place, they can turn into misdeeds.”

Clark and the children could still be saved now.

Overwhelmed, Clark nodded in response to the archbishop, and while he was slow, he gave orders to the children.

“What will you do, Twilight Cardinal?” Yagine asked, and Col was at a loss for words. “Personally, I would like you to stay in the city and reason with the king or somebody on Sharon’s behalf. You have someone from the royal family backing you, isn’t that right?”

“That’ll be Hyland. She’s an illegitimate child, but she’s proven herself. She’s got a lot of friends inside the Kingdom.”

When Eve explained as such, Yagine smiled, relieved.

“I see. That’s great. Speak of me as unfavorably as you wish, and say that Sharon and the others ultimately had no choice but to rise up. I won’t deny it, and I’ll report the same to the pope.”

That was how it had to be.

A voice piped up right when Col was about to slowly nod in defeat.

“Sharon isn’t escaping with us?”

It was Clark.

“They’re staying in the city…? But they’re right there!”

While the children stood in shock, Clark rushed over.

“Clark, I—”

“Your Grace! What are you thinking?! Please open the door! We can still save—”

Clark held fast onto Yagine, gripping his collar, and Eve’s guards wrestled with him, trying to peel him away.

Col had been through the same conversation just a moment ago. All he could do was look at Clark as he yelled, knowing it was fruitless.

Col had been persuaded by logic, and he had nodded.

But Clark loved Sharon. He had probably rushed through the underground passages full of hope.

How terrible was the despair of being pulled away from her with only a single door between them?

Perhaps he shouldn’t have called Clark over?

As he considered all that, some rough fur brushed up against his dangling hand.

“…”

Myuri looked up at him with her red eyes.

The sun rose in the east, rivers always flowed downstream, and mountains never moved.

Her silent, wordless eyes told him as such.

“Your Grace!” Clark yelled as he collapsed in the middle of the hall.

Col could claim he had made the right choice.

But people did not live on logic alone. If everything could be solved with logic, then things would never have devolved this far in the first place, and people were not that smart.

Col recalled when he had Sharon ride on his shoulder in bird form, walking around town dressed as a noble.

People mistook him for someone of high standing and opened the way for him out of fear.

Arugo had said the world was made up of so many of those kinds of layers, and that this cathedral was as massive and palatial as it was precisely because of those human qualities.

Did doing the right thing always make one right?

That couldn’t be true.

Not only were humans imperfect, but so was the world itself.

Poor souls would always end up getting crushed beneath this warped milling stone they called life.

Yagine was trying to persuade Clark as he sat on the ground in tears, and Eve was commanding her guards to begin preparations to escape.

Myuri stood beside Col, there to support him until the end.

This was one of many endings.

The only thing that did not satisfy him was how selfish he himself was.

“Stand now. You will be the abbot of a monastery from now on. Stay dignified, lest you lose your followers.”

Yagine urged Clark to stand, who did so with unsteady feet.

“P-please, just one last time…let me see her…”

Clark murmured, but Yagine shook his head. It was a slow but firm gesture.

“You cannot. If we open this door, it may lead to war. Even if I announce to the soldiers that it would not, how much would they believe my words? The tax collectors have risen up together with weapons in hand. That can be for nothing but storming the walls. It is sad, but when an evil man clasps his hands in prayer, our human eyes only see a pious act, and the opposite is true, too.”

Clark closed his eyes and hung his head.

“Besides, the Twilight Cardinal will be on your side. I’m sure you will be able to save them.”

No matter how he thought about it, there was no way he could give a clear answer.

But did Col have any other choice but to respond like this?

“Yes, of course.”

Yagine’s weary smile seemed to be telling him he could not turn white into black, and it had a hint of ruefulness, as if he could tell what Col was thinking.

How many lies could he feed Sharon and the other tax collectors? Could he denounce Yagine as evil and claim they had no choice but to come to the cathedral?

Even though he knew that was the only way to save them, it was at this crucial moment that he wondered if lying was the right thing to do.

If he acknowledged that, it would also mean acknowledging to a certain degree that it was fine for the Church to deliberately overlook all the vices and evils that had been going on within its organization.

More importantly, there was no guarantee that he would be able to save them even after all that.

It was so stupid.

It was so irritating how people prioritized ceremony and looks over being able to tell each other their true feelings, which made Col want to hate this imperfect and stupid world that God had created.

“Now, it may be a thorny path, but this, too, is a trial of God.”

The only salvation to be found here was how Yagine was setting an example for Clark’s future.

Clark and the others should be able to safely escape, at the very least, and there was no need to worry about their livelihood in the future. The other tax collectors escaping by boat could also take shelter in the monastery. Just like Myuri’s fantastic dreamworld, it would be a kind of sanctuary for them, an inviolable place.

And because of that, there were times the tyranny reached an extreme in those places. Col had visited a monastery like that on his travels with Lawrence when he was a child.

Clark would surely create an honest institution.

Col could do nothing more than pray for them as both Clark and Yagine walked away.

And Sharon would also want an official monastic institution for the orphanage, too, surely.

Clark had said that Sharon noticed there had been donations from the cathedral but stayed quiet about it. Perhaps she thought somewhere deep inside that the priests recognized it as an official orphanage.

He could only imagine how the tax collectors were, gathered outside.

What sort of expression was on Sharon’s face at that moment?

Was she cursing the soldiers dispatched by the city council, throwing rocks at them, brandishing her sword above her head in order to rouse her compatriots to make it a successful feint?

But what they harbored in their hearts was not just hatred. There were prayers, and those prayers were a wish to coax out fruit from a seed. Clark and the children would go through the underground passages and meet up with the other tax collectors. From the outside, it would seem like Sharon’s prayers had reached God.

It is all so stupid, Col thought.

“Col. We’re off, too. It’d only get messy if someone sees us here.”

Eve called out to him, and he nodded. They slowly walked off, like criminals.

He then entered the nave and looked up to the image of God made of multicolored glass behind the pulpit.

He heard a muffled thud from behind him, which was likely the tax collectors knocking on the cathedral door. It was made of thick wood and reinforced by iron. Only a battering ram could break it.

Yet, by knocking on the door, they were trying to pull everyone’s attention to them.

He could not put their wishes to waste.

“Brother.”

Eve entered the underground passage, and Myuri called to him.

The knocking on the door came again.

He turned to face the secret entrance behind the pulpit, as though desperately trying to ignore the sound.

“Don’t let it bother you.”

The gentleness of the hand Eve placed on his shoulder stung instead.

The feeling they should open the door and the resignation that opening the door would accomplish nothing intermingled with each other.

Yet, as Col’s feet moved to take him down the hidden stairway, Yagine handed Clark something in the corridor below.

“This is the letters patent—it has the name of the previous archbishop on it, not mine. On the slim chance I end up excommunicated, it will still hold power. There’s no need to worry.”

“…Understood.”

Clark dropped to one knee, and like a believer receiving the sacrament, he took the rolled piece of parchment.

That was the presentation of a letters patent for the establishment of a monastery.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been appropriate for Sharon to be here.

They would have received it together as the bell of reconciliation and blessing rang.

When he imagined that, Col could not help the stirring in his heart.

“Let us go.”

Yagine urged Clark onward.

The door to the vault was open.

Everything was hurtling toward a single conclusion.

Col was rooted to the spot, simply not satisfied with the option of moving forward because—

“Col!” Eve called to him, her voice annoyed with a hint of anger.

Myuri had also bit onto his clothes, roughly trying to drag him along.

Yagine looked at him apologetically.

Col was the only one out of place here.

But he had a reason for it.

“Please wait.”

When he said that, Eve looked toward the ceiling, Yagine widened his eyes, and Clark looked at him with doubt.

“Grrr…”

Even Myuri was growling, pulling him with such vigor that it almost ripped his sleeve.

He stopped her and held his ground because he had faith.

“Sir Col, I understand your pain…”

“No, that’s not it.”

“It isn’t?”

Col shook his head, closed his eyes, and imagined. He became a bird looking down on the cathedral from the heavens, and he imagined.

At that very moment, in front of the cathedral, Sharon and the tax collectors had taken up camp, holding fast to their positions. The soldiers sent by the city council were gathered around them, long spears in hand, keeping them in check. And even farther out from that, far beyond the city walls, the king’s army was marching toward them.

The king was acting to demonstrate that the tax collectors were bad, Sharon and the rest were acting to demonstrate they were the very ones who should be arrested, and the soldiers from the city council were acting to demonstrate that they were following the king’s orders.

But what about himself?

Could he truly go along with this show?

No, he could not.

There were no ideals to be found here—it was a more superficial, concrete, mundane story.

And if this was something that could be resolved by appearances alone, then there was another way.

In short—

“Can we not see this show from another angle?”

Everyone frowned.

“What are you…?”

“Another angle?”

“…”

All those who were world-weary looked at him at the same time, irritated.

The only one who looked at him with hope was Clark, but that was merely an expression of his intense feelings for Sharon and not any expectations for Col’s ability.

Yet, once Col thought of something, he could not get it out of his head.

“The monastery,” he murmured, and Eve, Yagine, and Myuri all exchanged glances. “It’s the monastery. That letters patent.”

Col pointed, and everyone’s eyes turned to Clark’s hand.

“There is a reason—a legitimate, justifiable reason for Sharon and the others to gather at the cathedral!”

When he yelled, Eve scratched her head. She looked at him like a drunk who was shouting about seeing spirits.

“Col, calm down. You’re just confused right—”

“Oooooooooh!!!”

It was Yagine who howled.

“God! O God! Yes! God, you have shown me the way!”

Yagine turned to the heavens, his massive stature tottering as he rushed toward Col, moving so quickly that Myuri didn’t have enough time to step between them despite being on guard.

It was possible to call what Col received an embrace, but it was best described as getting charged.

“O God! I thank you! I thank you for sending me this astute young man!”

After Yagine hugged him hard enough to lift him off the ground, he turned around.

“Yes! That is what we can do! There is a way to solve this by opening the cathedral doors and taking in Sharon!”

Impossible, Eve wordlessly muttered, but Col picked up where Yagine had left off.

“There is exactly one situation that can show the cathedral did not succumb to the tax collectors and that the tax collectors did not come with the intention of using violence, even if we do open the door!”

“Are you insane? The tax collectors are actually out there, gathered and armed. If that’s not an uprising, then what is it?”

When Eve asked, Col took a deep breath and answered:

“A petition.”

People had their strengths and weaknesses. If Eve had something she wanted to do, she would think of a way to weave a web of machinations that would eventually make things land in her lap of their own accord. But there were more straightforward ways of colliding headfirst with things in the world. And sometimes that became violence.

It was because people were stirred to action by intense feelings.

“A petition for the cathedral to build a monastery just for the orphans. It’s been several years since the Church has stopped all services in the Kingdom. They’ve been waiting for such a long time, and they simply couldn’t wait anymore. If they wanted the doors to open to have their wishes heard, to be shown mercy in the name of God, it’s only natural they would act a bit rough, yes?”

“Wait, but…”

Eve recoiled, and Yagine spoke.

“Eve, we need your assistance. If we can say that you, former noble of the Kingdom, backed the tax collectors in order to return home loaded with honors, then the papal office will look on you more favorably. You understand what I mean, don’t you?”

Just like Eve had said herself, she could change her standing as easily as a bat flitted back and forth. If someone who was possibly an ally of the Church like herself was to deeply insinuate herself among the tax collectors, who were nothing but nuisances, then the Church would surely find peace of mind for the time being.

But no, the reason Eve looked like she had swallowed a bug was because she had realized the implicit meaning in Yagine’s words—a command to bargain with the papal office in order to calm them down.

“…This’ll make me money, will it?”

Yagine struck his massive, drumlike belly and raised both hands.

“Of course it will!”

Yagine got right to the point. He suddenly turned to Col and smiled like a bandit.

“The Twilight Cardinal is here! Be it monastery or orphanage, I’m sure the donations will come pouring in from all kinds of factions looking for protection!”

Col had come to Eve, ready to feast on mud if it meant saving Sharon and the tax collectors.

It would be wrong if he ran away now. “…It sounds like my name holds quite the influence.” Col turned to Eve as he spoke, albeit timidly.

Eve’s face went bright red, and after she widened her eyes, she yelled, “Do what you want!”

While she was used to cornering others in arguments, perhaps she was not used to the same being done to herself.

Yagine childishly shrugged and called over Clark, who stood there in shock.

“You are the star here, Clark.”

“Wh—? Me?”

“Don’t you have feelings for Sharon? As her father, I know she’ll be in good hands with you.”

Clark’s eyes went rounder than a fish’s eyes as he stared at Yagine.

“But we will need direction in order to quell the scene. We will need a show to quiet everyone outside. Any ideas?”

Yagine turned to look at Col suggestively.

This was the man who fell in love with a golden eagle whose fully spread wings could cover an entire forest. He had likely “directed” miracles once or twice in his life before becoming the archbishop.

And Col could not help but remember who it was beside him.

“…Leave it to me.”

When he answered, Myuri briefly whined in displeasure, but he reached down to pet the back of her neck to quiet her.

Col felt slightly depressed thinking about how much she would complain afterward, but when he thought about how they might have gone straight through the tunnels to escape, he was ready and willing to bend to all her cajoling.

“All right, then, get ready! This will be our first divine business in years! Get ready to receive this petition!”

For the sake of moving forward.

For the sake of fighting against fate, to not be swept away.

“Twilight Cardinal—no, Col,” Yagine said. “Thank you.”

All Col could say in response was, “I still don’t know if it’ll work yet,” but Myuri, apparently unhappy with his lack of confidence, nibbled at his leg.