The Unwanted Undead Adventurer: Volume 10 Page 3

  As I pondered such things, Elza’s eyes went wide as she opened the letter.

  “Is something the matter?” Lorraine inquired.

  Elza shook her head. “No. It was just that I felt an old familiar presence...”

  Elza then suddenly chanted a holy mantra of the Church of the Eastern Sky, and a gentle blue light lit the air around her. As though responding to that light, Lillian’s letter began to glow with a similar but slightly different light.

  It was unmistakably the glow of divinity. Lillian, as a saint, could use divinity, and it appeared that Elza too was a saint. You didn’t have to be a saint to become a high-ranking member of a religious institution, but having that ability would usually start you out relatively high on the hierarchy. That, in turn, allowed you to advance through the ranks faster, so in general, it made it easier to achieve a higher position. Or at least, so I’d heard. It would make sense if Elza’s unusually high rank for her age was due to her ability.

  The divinity subsided after a moment, at which point the wax seal on the letter crumbled into dust. Since I’d never seen it happen before, I glanced over at Lorraine for an explanation, and she began to explain in a soft whisper.

  “It’s a seal blessing used mostly by high-ranking clergy. It isn’t known or used by the general public. If someone who doesn’t know the proper way of opening the seal—that is, someone who doesn’t have the ‘key’—tries to open the letter, it leaves a mark indicating that it has been opened without permission. Since the mark is made with divinity, it also reveals who tried to open it. Though, I’m told that anyone who can use divinity can also erase the mark.”

  It wasn’t as though Lorraine had said it so softly that Elza couldn’t hear, and indeed, she’d heard Lorraine’s explanation.

  “I’m impressed that you know of it. You’re correct. Lillian lost the ability to use divinity some time ago, so it has been years since she sent me a letter in this fashion.”

  ◆◇◆◇◆

  Lillian had lost the ability to use divinity? The first thing that came to mind was the fact that she’d developed accumulative malice disease, but when I thought back to those events, Lillian herself had only learned that she had the disease when she was treated for it. It would be strange for Abbess Elza, who hadn’t heard from Lillian in a while and had been in the capital all this time, to know about it.

  Although, maybe it wouldn’t be that odd if Elza had gathered information in some way that Lillian herself was unaware. Elza’s words didn’t seem to have that connotation behind them, though. Instead, she seemed to be implying that Lillian had lost the ability to use divinity before she’d developed accumulative malice disease. That would explain why a saint like Lillian, who had the precious ability to use divinity, was assigned to be headmaster at an orphanage in Maalt, a backwater among backwaters.

  “I do not know if you are aware,” Elza continued, “but Lillian was a nun here in the Ephas Abbey until about ten years ago. She originally became a nun when she was fifteen, and even at that age, she had a powerful gift for divinity. She was regarded as a promising saint who would carry the future of the church on her shoulders.”

  Aha, so there was a meaningful reason that Lillian had been assigned to a rural place like Maalt. Well, no, Maalt wasn’t rural. It was a relatively prosperous frontier city. And while I wanted to point that out, Elza wasn’t the one who’d called Maalt a backwater, so I couldn’t say anything.

  “And yet she was assigned to Maalt?” Lorraine asked. “Not to cast aspersions on my own home, but Maalt is a country town compared to the capital. It doesn’t seem like a place for a saint who has that much talent.”

  A part of me was a little hurt that even Lorraine would be so dismissive of Maalt, but she was from the empire and was a city girl born and bred, so I couldn’t really blame her. I was the only country boy here, then. I felt a faint sense of inferiority as I decided to stay out of the conversation for the time being.

  Unlike my whimsical inner musings, their conversation continued on in a serious vein. Maybe I was just a little bit too much of a goof. In any case, this was all inside my head, so I could be forgiven for having a little fun in my own world, right?

  “Not at all,” Elza replied. “I’m told Maalt is one of the more prosperous parts of the frontier. In particular, as of late, it’s considered a promising land with the birth of a new dungeon. Many are saying that it won’t be considered a frontier or backwater in the future.”

  Elza offered some praise for Maalt with the confidence of someone from a big city. I could barely hold back tears; how she’d gently and tactfully worded her statement was a salve to my fragile country pride. I decided at that moment that I’d happily accept any task that Abbess Elza might ask of me.

  Joking aside, I was pretty sure that Elza’s prediction was right. Even now, we had the Tower and the Academy lurking around town. I didn’t know how useful the discoveries in the dungeon would end up being, but observations would be conducted over the long term. Not only that, but a newly created dungeon was an extremely rare find. It’d require a large-scale research project that would require building advanced research centers and academic institutions in the city itself. It was easy to imagine that adventurers and workers would flock to the city in the process.

  It was clear that the city would be booming in the future, so Maalt would be joining the ranks of the world’s big cities. Well, I didn’t know if it would go that far, but my hope was that it would. On the other hand, while there was a benefit to the population growth that would come from those developments, there would also be downsides. It was hard to say that growth would only be a good thing. The back streets might become poorer and end up as slums, or more conflict and crimes might arise as a result.

  There were already signs of that now. The spat between the Academy students and the merchant we saw before, and the disputes between Tower researchers and adventurers we saw before we left, were no doubt just the start of it. It would just mean more and more work for Wolf. Not that that was my problem, but I supposed I could help him out a little bit.

  “As you’ve stated, Mother Elza, it’s true that Maalt is becoming prosperous now,” Lorraine said. “However, that probably wasn’t the case when Sister Lillian was assigned there.”

  Elza nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Then why... No, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry...”

  Lorraine held back, evidently feeling that she might be prying into Lillian’s private affairs, but Elza answered her unspoken question.

  “No, I’ve perhaps said too much. I should apologize to Lillian later. Still, I feel I’ve given you an incomplete picture. To offer a little more detail, the reason Lillian went to Maalt wasn’t because of anything she had done, but because of internal conflicts within our faith.”

  This was a common story, but it wasn’t typical in the Church of the Eastern Sky. Or rather, it wasn’t the sort of thing that went public even if it did happen. It was more common to hear about it when it involved other religions, but...

  Elza continued, “Which is why I’ve always felt guilty about it. I tried to stay in contact with Lillian even after she left for Maalt, but Lillian herself said that contact with her would be bad for me and, at a certain point, had stopped contacting me at all. This letter is the first I’ve heard from her in a long time. I’ll carefully read the contents later and, if possible, write her a response. While I would hate to trouble you, I would appreciate it if you could take the response to her directly. We can make it an official request through the guild...”

  The conversation had gone in an unexpected direction. It was natural to want to write a response to a letter you’d just received, especially if it was from an acquaintance you hadn’t heard from in a while. It seemed Lillian and Elza weren’t just acquaintances or superior and subordinate in the church, but also friends, so it was even more understandable that Elza wanted to send Lillian a reply.

  That raised a question.
Were Lillian and Elza about the same age? Lillian was a stout middle-aged woman who appeared to be in her early forties, but Elza was talking like she knew Lillian when she was in her teens. I fought the urge to ask Elza, “How old are you?” because I was well aware that the only thing that awaited a question like that was pain.

  I’d seen it happen all too often to my fellow adventurers who’d posed the same question to veteran female adventurers at the tavern. They’d received a fist or two as an answer and ended up with a nice mouthful of dirt to go with their ale. After seeing that happen several times, I’d learned the valuable lesson of not asking women their age. Not that it completely stopped me from asking, even now. Maybe I just needed more discipline.

  Anyway, carrying back a reply... Since we’d be returning to Maalt eventually, it shouldn’t be an issue. Lorraine must have agreed, because she glanced at me to check before replying to Elza.

  “In that case, we have no problem with accepting your task. I plan to stay in the capital for a while, meaning that any letter to Sister Lillian will only be delivered once I make my way back. If that is acceptable...”

  “Yes. It’s not an urgent matter, so that would be fine. Then, I will contact you through the guild once the letter is completed. Thank you for taking on this job.”

  ◆◇◆◇◆

  Lorraine and I then each made donations before we left Ephas Abbey, the great abbey of the Church of the Eastern Sky’s Yaaran branch. While Lorraine made donations every once in a while, it was rare for me to make donations of any kind, but now that I finally had some financial cushion, I was able to make one today. I could only spare a few silver pieces, but it was enough to support a family for a month, so it wasn’t a small donation. Well, okay, it was enough for maybe twenty loaves of bread.

  I had no idea how much Lorraine gave, but the average donation from a follower of the church was, at most, several copper pieces. This figure shot up when adventurers got involved, but earnings from adventuring flowed like water, so it was almost unavoidable. Adventuring was good money, but it was also an expensive job to maintain. Just weapons, armor, and tools were enough to give me a headache when budgeting my funds. Even lower-ranked adventurers made decent money, but for many of them, once they factored in equipment and maintenance, they tended to lose income rather than make it. The only way for adventurers to find financial security was to work hard and get stronger.

  A little while after we’d left the abbey, Lorraine said, “So now the only things left to do in the capital are to buy gifts for the others and to have an audience with Her Highness.”

  “True, but the gifts can wait until we’re ready to leave, I think. Rina’s list is mostly things that spoil quickly...”

  “For foodstuffs, magic can help preserve them, but even then, it’d be best to wait on those.”

  She wasn’t talking about manipulating time and space, but just using magic to cool things or to remove humidity. It wasn’t that there was no such thing as space-time manipulation magic, but such magic was far more difficult to use than other types of spells. It wasn’t meant for casual use.

  Maybe it was easier to understand how hard those spells were if I said teleportation was essentially a form of space-time manipulation magic. Not even Lorraine could use it to preserve food. Of course, she could probably do it given enough preparation, resources, and help, but it wasn’t the sort of effort you’d expend on mere souvenirs.

  Having maybe a dozen mages in a giant magic circle chanting while pouring vast amounts of mana into a cake would make anyone critique the waste of high-level magic that would be. There was a part of Lorraine, however, that would delight in doing such a thing, so I couldn’t say for certain she’d never do it. Thinking about it, I kind of wanted to do it myself at some point. There was just something cool about experiments so ridiculous that no one had ever been crazy enough to try them before.

  While I daydreamed about that ludicrous waste of magic, Lorraine continued the conversation.

  “That leaves our audience with Her Highness. Rentt, did you remember to bring that medal?”

  The medal Lorraine referred to was the one given to us by Nauss Ancro, the captain of the Yaaran Royal Guard, who’d been protecting the princess when we’d saved her. It depicted part of the scene decorating Nauss’s armor—a unicorn stabbing a monster with its horn—which was a part of his heraldry. It was a magic item used as a form of identification, and he’d handed it to us to show to the guards at the palace gate when we wanted an audience with the princess. Technically, he’d just lent it to us rather than gifting it, so obviously I wasn’t going to lose it. And since I needed it for this journey, of course I had it on me. I thought I did, anyway.

  “Ahem... I’m sure I had it in here...” I stuck my hand into my magic bag and thought of the medal.

  “Why do you sound uncertain?” Lorraine questioned, looking a tad worried.

  I mean, I knew I’d put it in there, but there was always the possibility I’d just forgotten. All the same, I was sure I’d put it in there—pretty sure, anyway. Even as I fretted, I felt the hefty weight of metal in my hand, and a wave of relief washed over me. I pulled my hand out of the bag and the medal was there, lying in my palm.

  “Aha!”

  “Oh for the love of... You had me worried there for a second,” Lorraine said with a faint look of exasperation, but I pretended not to notice.

  “Anyway, this seal... It’s kind of creepy no matter how many times you look at it, huh? I guess a family that produces a captain of the royal guard needs to show its martial prowess even in its heraldry.”

  “Yes, that’s probably true. Nobles do have to be concerned with appearances. Of course, those who can’t back up those appearances with substance fall out of favor quickly. At any rate, with this we can enter the palace, but we still have to worry about your identity being discovered.”

  Lorraine referred to the detection net that checked for monsters entering the capital. I’d been able to get into the city due to a magic item from the Latuule Family, but when it came to the palace...

  “But you’re sure it’ll be fine, right, Lorraine?”

  “Yes. I checked what sort of detection items they use in the palace and even tested one on you. None of them responded to your presence, so there’s no need for excessive concern. But it’s still important to be prepared, just in case, which is why I’ve borrowed an underling from Edel.”

  That surprised me. “Just when did you do that?” I asked.

  “Back in Maalt, of course. It was accompanying me in the carriage. Did you not notice?”

  “Now that you mention it, I remember seeing a single puchi suri there, but I just assumed it was a wild one.”

  Puchi suri stowaways were common when traveling by carriage, so I’d paid no attention to it at the time. Since I’d no longer felt its presence when we got to the gates, I’d assumed it’d hopped off somewhere along the way.

  “It goes without saying, but even a puchi suri, unlike you, is obviously a monster, and we couldn’t very well enter the capital with one in the carriage. Plus, I wanted to confirm how effective the House Latuule’s device was, so I gave it the item and had it sneak into the capital first. It’s now wandering around the nobles’ district to make sure it’s safe to go that far in with the item. Once we’re sure of that, I’ll have it try the palace.”

  It sounded like quite a precise plan, but just how had Lorraine been able to communicate so well with Edel and the puchi suris without my knowledge?

  Lorraine must have noticed my confusion, because she added, “I was thinking a lot about this visit, so I was muttering about wanting to confirm it was safe ahead of time. Edel evidently heard me talking to myself, and he brought his underling to me. It felt like Edel was telling me to make use of it. It’s not that we can talk, but it can nod or shake its head in response to things I say, so when I was able to confirm we could communicate, I had it tag along to help me.”

  This was a bit too much inde
pendence, wasn’t it? Or maybe it was fine because it was for my sake.

  “But Edel never misses a beat,” Lorraine continued, “and he made sure to ask for a reward.”

  “A reward?”

  “Yes. You know the temperature-adjusting magic item at the house? He wants one for the basement of the orphanage as well. It’s a small price to pay for having them take on a dangerous job.”

  Edel had stayed quiet because he had other motivations, eh? It wasn’t like it cost me anything, so I figured it was fine.

  “I understand how it happened,” I said. “But even if that’s taken care of, it’s the three of us that have to pay Her Highness a visit.”

  Lorraine nodded. “Yes. We need to contact Augurey. I know the location of his inn. Why don’t we try starting there?”

  Side Story: Meanwhile, Back in Maalt

  “Hrrrm...”

  Rina—Rentt and Lorraine’s apprentice—stood furrowing her brow as she groaned in concentration and focused on the task at hand. She was currently in the courtyard at the Latuule estate, which was located in a corner of the city of Maalt. Nearby, Alize, Rentt, and Lorraine’s other apprentice, watched Rina as she gathered mana into the magic wand she held in her hand. Once Rina’s concentration had reached its peak, she opened her eyes and shouted out a chant.

  “Gie Vieros!”

  A moment later, brown matter that appeared to be dirt gathered in the empty space at the tip of the wand, slowly forming into an arrow floating in midair. Rina then motioned as though she were pushing forward. The arrow sailed through the air almost as fast as an ordinary arrow, flew toward a target made up of several concentric rings, and struck the outermost ring.

  “Wow,” Alize muttered after Rina’s arrow had landed.

  Isaac, who was standing next to Alize, nodded his approval. “Taking into account that this was your first time trying a quickened spell, you did well. If I were to nitpick, I’d say I would have liked you to hit a little closer to the center.”