The Unwanted Undead Adventurer: Volume 10 Page 2

  The decorations all depicted people and events from the Church of the Eastern Sky’s scriptures, and followers were offering prayers in front of each statue and mural. In the middle of the great hall, endless rows of large benches designed to seat scores of followers were lined up. In between the large benches was an aisle of purple carpet that stretched toward the altar. Behind the altar, a large stained glass panel that depicted the Angel of the East that the church venerated lit the room with a warm glow. Still, neither the altar nor the stained glass were about displaying the church’s grandeur; they were devices meant to create a quiet, pious atmosphere.

  “I have no intention of following a particular faith, but I always do feel something when I’m in a place like this,” Lorraine said, exhaling softly.

  The Church of Lobelia was quite influential in the empire, but Lorraine herself wasn’t very religious. I suppose what she was trying to say was that this place made even someone like her want to believe in a higher power, even if for only a brief moment.

  Given that there were such things as blessings from gods and spirits, I didn’t see anything wrong with believing in something, but the fact was that blessings were often bestowed on those without a strong sense of faith. Since Lorraine and I both possessed divinity, we were both saints according to most religious institutions, but if asked if we worshiped the spirit from that shrine, I’d probably have to say no. I was grateful, but that wasn’t the same as fealty.

  “It’s not that I don’t understand why,” I murmured, “but as I sort of expected, nothing’s happening to me even in a place like this. I figured that unlike the little church in Maalt, something might happen here in the high church.”

  Lorraine turned to me and watched me intently.

  “True, you’re no different. Well, this is a church, but it’s not as though it’s overflowing with divinity. Besides, even if that were the case, you’re an oddity. You’re an undead with your own divinity, so it isn’t terribly surprising that nothing has happened.”

  “Yeah. If I thought it’d be that big of a risk, I wouldn’t have entered the church in the first place.”

  My impression before entering was that it was a large, impressive building, but I didn’t feel any unease or fear. Since my body was that of an undead, if the church itself was dangerous to my kind, I’d have felt some sort of dread or disgust upon nearing the place. The reality was that I’d felt nothing of the sort when I got here.

  Also, when I actually stepped inside, nothing had happened. It might have been reckless of me, considering that had anything happened, my only option would’ve been to have Lorraine drag me out of the building. I’d already been to a fair number of religious facilities at this point, though, including the chapel at the orphanage in Maalt. It wasn’t a large chapel, but it’d been useful in testing my reaction to holy structures. Maybe it wasn’t that reckless of me to have just waltzed in here, then.

  “However, that simply means that you can handle this particular church. It’s possible that churches of other faiths might affect you. You should still be careful.”

  Lorraine made sure to keep me from getting overconfident, and she was right, of course. I’d heard before that the relationships among gods could impact the power balance between a god and a divinity wielder. For example, saints might receive a power boost when facing followers of a god that their god hated. After all, the gods usually chose mortals based not on their morals, but on whether they liked the individual. That was what Lorraine meant when she pointed out that it might still be a problem at another church, even if I was fine in the Church of the Eastern Sky.

  “Yeah, true. I’ll be careful. That aside, what about the letter? Who do we give it to?”

  When I changed the subject, Lorraine retrieved the letter from her bag. The letter was sealed with wax, and though it wasn’t addressed to anyone on the outside, Lorraine had been told to whom to give the letter. She’d been the one to take the job too.

  “Sister Lillian requested that I give this letter to Abbess Elza of the Yaaran Abbey of the Eastern Sky.”

  “So she’s sending it to someone pretty high up.”

  In the Church of the Eastern Sky, Archimandrite was the top rank, followed by abbot, prior, canon, and so forth—ten ranks overall. There were more precise separations between ranks, but that was the basic hierarchy. The equivalent of the Great Church-Father in the Church of Lobelia, or say a pope or patriarch in other faiths, was the Archabbot, so an abbot in the Church of the Eastern Sky was essentially a cardinal or bishop. An abbot could even one day become an Archimandrite.

  Lillian was directly exchanging letters with someone of that rank, so was she higher up than I thought? She’d always just introduced herself as a cleric and never told us her exact rank. Ordinarily, someone in charge of a church in a city the size of Maalt would be a canon, at best. I suppose this was something I’d have to ask Lillian about at some point.

  “Perhaps it simply means that the Church of the Eastern Sky isn’t as caught up in their hierarchy as the Church of Lobelia. I’ve been told that if you want to send a letter to the Great Church-Father in the Church of Lobelia, you have to be either high-ranking or accomplished to get him to even pay notice of your approach.”

  That was an extreme in the opposite direction.

  “So no point in a small child saving their allowance to pay the postage, huh?” I said.

  “Well, they can still send it,” Lorraine answered, “but the letters are first read by the Great Church-Father’s subordinates, who then sort through them. In the end, only a handful of them ever make it to the Great Church-Father’s desk. That said, it’s more likely that a letter from a child like you described might have a decent shot. If word got out that the Great Church-Father read it and responded, it would be good for the church’s reputation. In the empire, if you go to a church in the countryside, you sometimes see a reply from the Great Church-Father framed and displayed on a wall.”

  “Y’know, it’s not entirely a bad thing...but it feels kind of dirty.”

  “The reality is that we live in a hard world. At any rate, the letter. I’d like to make sure the abbess receives it, so I don’t want to hand it to a random priest only for it to never be read.”

  Lorraine looked around the room, then called to a passing woman who appeared to be a nun. She was going to ask the nun to bring Abbess Elza to her. The easiest thing to do would be to give the letter to the nun and ask her to deliver it, but Lorraine had taken this task on as a proper request. Her professional pride as an adventurer meant she needed to make sure Elza got the letter. In that case, it would be imprudent to just hand it off to a passing nun.

  “Yes? How may I help you? Do you wish to offer a prayer? Or purchase some holy water? Or perhaps you wish to make a donation?”

  The nun was probably just listing off potential requests, but I couldn’t help but hear a tiny bit of hope in her voice on the last question. While religion wasn’t about money, every religious institution needed money to survive. It was understandable.

  Besides, as far as I could see from the passing monks, they all wore simple clothing. The older monks had evidently been wearing their clothes for a long time, because numerous patches were covering tears and gaps in the fabric. It was clear they weren’t in the habit of frivolously spending on luxuries. It drove home how little the Church of the Eastern Sky cared about such things, which made me inclined to donate.

  “I intend to make a donation before I head home,” Lorraine said, “but that’s not why I’m here today. We’re from the city of Maalt, and we have a letter from a nun of the church that we were asked to deliver on her behalf. I’d like to hand it directly to the person I was told to give it to. Would it be possible to have you bring the recipient to me?”

  “Ah, you truly have come a long way. Thank you for taking the time to do so. I will be happy to help you. And to whom is the letter addressed? And if possible, may I know who wrote it as well?”

  “Right, my
apologies. The letter is addressed to Abbess Elza. It was sent by Sister Lillian of Maalt. Forgive me, I don’t know Sister Lillian’s rank, as I never had the right opportunity to ask...”

  Lorraine was just describing her requested task, but the nun’s eyes went wide with surprise when she heard the name.

  “A l-letter from Sister Lillian to Mother Elza?! I-I understand. I’ll go fetch the abbess at once! If you two could wait in the drawing room— You! Show these two to the drawing room!”

  The nun, who was thoroughly anxious now, stopped a young woman, apparently a novice, and issued her orders before she hurried off.

  Lorraine watched her leave with bemusement. “Was it something I said?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe the girl could help us out?”

  I turned to look at the understudy who’d been assigned as our guide, and Lorraine nodded in agreement.

  “Forgive the odd question, but do you know of Abbess Elza and Sister Lillian?” she asked the young woman.

  “Yes, I know of Abbess Elza. She’s in charge of Ephas Abbey, the headquarters of the Church of the Eastern Sky in Yaaran. But, my apologies, as for Sister Lillian...I am afraid I do not know of her. Where is she from?”

  “She is a nun of Maalt.”

  “Ah, Maalt. I see. To be a nun in a hard land like that, she must be quite the person, but I’m afraid I do not know of her. My apologies. I’m sorry I can’t be of use.”

  Lorraine glanced over at me, but if the girl didn’t know, she didn’t know. I shook my head.

  “I see...” Lorraine said gently. “I’m sorry for asking you something so random. Please take us to the drawing room.”

  ◆◇◆◇◆

  “If you’ll excuse me. She should be here shortly.”

  After showing us to the drawing room, the woman made tea before leaving us alone in the room. Lorraine waited until we heard her footsteps receding in the distance before speaking.

  “We still have no idea why that priestess was so surprised, do we?”

  “Maybe she was just surprised there was a letter addressed to Abbess Elza? Could be she’s not much of a writer and doesn’t get much mail.”

  “Are you being serious right now?”

  Lorraine furrowed her brow and glanced in my direction. I was kidding, of course. An abbess of the Church of the Eastern Sky was not just a religious figure, but a political one as well. There was no way she wouldn’t be much of a writer, nor would receiving letters be rare for her. Therefore, it made the most sense to assume that the nun hadn’t been surprised at the fact that Abbess Elza received a letter, but at the fact that Lillian had sent one to the abbess.

  “I’m kidding. The most logical guess is that Lillian’s pretty important in the church, right?” I said.

  “Then why didn’t that girl know of her?”

  “I’m sure we can come up with a bunch of reasons, but she is young. It wouldn’t be odd if she didn’t know a whole lot about the church, yet.”

  “I suppose you have a point...”

  Although she nodded, Lorraine didn’t seem particularly convinced by my logic. Lorraine was a scholar at heart, so she never liked relying on hunches and guesses aside from determining whether it was important or not.

  Still, I shared her curiosity about Lillian. She was a nun serving out in the sticks of Maalt, but now that I thought about it, her presence there was odd. After all, she could use divinity, which made her a saint. It was easy to forget how impressive that was given that Lorraine, I, and even my thralls could use it if they wanted to, but it was a fairly rare ability. Those who could use it, regardless of the extent of their power, were valued by any religious institution they belonged to. It was normal for them to technically belong to a particular branch of faith but actually work as traveling priests, clerics, and deacons, yet Lillian had been assigned to a backwater congregation. It was easy to imagine that there was a complicated story behind that.

  “If you really want to know, you’d either have to ask her in person, or maybe ask this Abbess Elza we’re about to meet. Though, it’s hard to say whether they’ll answer that question or not.”

  “Hmm... That would be difficult.”

  Lorraine crossed her arms and sighed. Considering that this information dealt with the Church of the Eastern Sky’s internal affairs, it seemed unlikely that they’d be willing to share freely. In that case, there wasn’t much we could do about it. Although, if we asked Lillian, she might not make a fuss about it.

  We sat waiting for a bit, sipping our tea, when a knock came at the door. Lorraine and I stood and both said, “Come in.”

  The door slowly opened, and the priestess from earlier entered the room, followed by a priestess who I assumed was Abbess Elza.

  My first impression of Abbess Elza was that she looked a lot younger than I’d expected. An abbot was equivalent to cardinals and bishops in other faiths, and it was one of the most important positions in the Church of the Eastern Sky. When the supreme leader passed away, their successor would come from among those who held this title.

  People who were chosen for such roles had to meet a large number of requirements ranging from personal character to education to experience and, as a result, they often needed to be of a certain age. Despite that, Abbess Elza was extremely young. Since I hadn’t picked up the trick to identify a woman’s age at a glance, I couldn’t say for certain how old she was, but at the very least, she looked young enough that some would say she looked to be in her late twenties, whereas others would say she was still in her late teens.

  I figured I’d be safe if I said she was somewhere in her twenties. It wasn’t that she’d lost all her childish features, but that she demonstrated a certain amount of intelligence and maturity, along with a calmness that no teenager could possess. She also had raven hair, which wasn’t all that unusual in Yaaran, as well as obsidian-hued eyes.

  Abbess Elza bowed deeply when she entered the room. Lorraine and I stood and returned the bow.

  “I thank you for coming so far to deliver this to me,” Abbess Elza said. “I’m told it’s a letter from Sister Lillian Jean. I’m Elza Olgado, the abbess in question.”

  “Thank you for the polite introduction. My name is Lorraine Vivie, a Silver-class adventurer, and this is my companion, Rentt Vivie.”

  Lorraine was the one who’d accepted this task, so she was the one to answer the abbess. I was just along for the ride, so to speak. Still, I’d accompanied Lorraine from Maalt, so I did think I had a right to be here. Besides, from Lillian’s point of view, it was less that she asked Lorraine alone, and more that she’d entrusted the letter to the two of us.

  Upon learning that we shared a family name, Elza looked back and forth between us. Lorraine realized what the abbess wanted to ask, but she brushed it aside and pressed forward. There was no need to clarify things since there were a number of reasons we might share a surname, whether it be that we were married or that we were from the same family. Elza also let her question pass unanswered and returned her attention to Lorraine.

  “I have come today because Sister Lillian entrusted me with a letter to give directly to you, Abbess Elza. Here it is.” Lorraine retrieved the letter from her magic bag and offered it to Elza.

  “A Silver-class? I see. Would you mind terribly if I opened it here? I’m afraid I’m quite anxious to see what she has written.”

  The reason Elza mentioned Lorraine’s rank was because ordinarily, a Bronze-class adventurer was more than sufficient to safely deliver mail. Not many would bother hiring a Silver-class adventurer to do so. There were cases where the rich would hire a high-ranking adventurer to deliver an important missive, but Lillian was the head of Maalt’s orphanage. She wasn’t particularly wealthy, and Elza must have wondered why she’d asked a Silver-class adventurer to deliver the letter.

  The fact of the matter was that Lorraine had taken the job not because Lillian specifically wanted a Silver-class adventurer, but because Lillian knew Lorrai
ne personally. As for the fee, Lillian had initially insisted she’d pay full price, but Lorraine had given her a discount since we were coming this way anyway.

  As for why Elza wanted to open it in front of us, there were probably two reasons. First, as she had just noted, she was anxious to see what was written in the letter itself. Second, she wanted to confirm that it had been properly delivered to her.

  The former reason was simply a statement made for politeness’s sake, while the latter was likely the real reason. Normally, when an adventurer was tasked with delivering mail, they never opened the letter to check its contents. In fact, doing so without the employer’s permission was a crime. Nevertheless, some less-than-honest adventurers would steal a glance. Not many would do that, but it was best to check if anything had been tampered with, just in case.

  Lorraine nodded. “Of course. Please do.”

  “Then... Oh, my apologies. I don’t mean to make you stay standing. Please, sit down. I’ll take a seat as well.”

  At Elza’s prompting, Lorraine and I sat back down on the comfortable sofa in the drawing room. Elza sat down after she saw us settled, but the nun who’d brought Elza remained on her feet and stood quietly behind the abbess. The nun was likely standing at the ready so that she could run errands if Elza felt it necessary. That and she was probably there to serve as Elza’s shield if anything happened. I could feel that the nun had martial training, but it was hard to tell if she’d be able to put up a decent fight against us. She wouldn’t be able to do much if Lorraine decided to unleash the full force of her magic.

  Then again, if that happened, we’d definitely be captured. Even if we escaped, we’d end up wanted criminals on the lam. I wished the nun would relax, given that there was no way we’d do such a thing, but since an abundance of caution was important in these situations, there wasn’t anything we could really do about the nun.