Chapter 77: A Dangle-Ball Journey

The chaotic night was not yet over. After escaping the city of Sateru, we set up camp to let the horses rest. I still didn’t quite understand what was happening, but I knew the winds had changed significantly compared to before I met Father Dordon. Since leaving the city, I had been plagued by a severe headache and not a moment of peace.

“Oakley-kun, are you feeling unwell again? At this rate, I worry for the future of this journey.”

“Shut up…”

Slurp. “Oh? What’s this? You still have energy… I’m relieved.”

We sat across from a campfire. When I really thought about it, it was an abnormal situation for the priest and me to be talking like this. Father Dordon had tried to rape and then kill me. Normally, no matter what kind of reward was offered, I should have refused to accompany him.

However, things had happened that forced me to accept this abnormality. My true identity as a vanguard for the Heretics, being used in an insane “Executive Bomb” operation, and Father Dordon’s realization that he couldn’t kill me without endangering himself—these were the catalysts for this change.

Not that I thought this change was for the “better.” It felt as if I were tumbling down a dark, endless slope, pushed into a situation where things were getting worse and there was no turning back.

But I couldn’t escape this priest. He guaranteed my travel funds to the Holy Capital Sasfect, and he provided the transportation—the horse—to get there. Of course, that wasn’t enough reason to entrust him with my fate, but… I also wanted to hear what I could from Dordon, now that he was my travel companion.

Seeds of anxiety were everywhere. First, Dordon; second, the Kenneth Orthodox Church; third, the Heretics; and fourth, the future of Marietta and that blonde monk.

Father Dordon goes without saying. He was my traveling companion to the Holy Capital Sasfect by circumstance, but there was no way I could trust him. His behavior had changed since he saw my left hand—the one with the tissue of someone else adhered to the index, middle, and ring fingers—but that was merely an external restraint. It didn’t mean his nature had been corrected.

Fundamentally, we were enemies. Even though we were camping together by the fire, he might still demand kisses or worse, using the warped logic that “as long as I don’t cause bleeding or physical harm, it’s fine” or “if you find it pleasant, it’s fine.” With this guy, that was actually possible.

—Just imagining it filled me with intense revulsion and nausea. This is no joke. I was tormented by a wave of discomfort that accompanied my headache.

I noticed Father Dordon looking at me, the corners of his mouth twisted. In my heat-hazed vision, I asked him, just to be sure.

“…You aren’t going to attack me anymore, right? Not with my left hand being a ‘vulnerability’ that can’t be subjected to reckless stimulation, and not knowing where eyes might be watching…”

“That is correct. I will not cause you harm. I cannot.”

“…………”

Father Dordon slurped regretfully. Just as I was about to mutter, “Thank goodness,” his mouth moved slightly.

“However, I still harbor intense sexual desire for you.”

“Huh?”

“My analysis is thus: The Heretics’ objective is to ‘deliver Oakley-kun’ to the ‘Holy Capital Sasfect’ with his ‘body intact.’ Therefore, if I plant the belief in the ‘monitors’ that I will not harm you, it shouldn’t matter to the Heretics even if we both feel good in the process.”

“You…”

“Rest assured, I know where a man’s pleasure points are. Slurp, lick. Hehehe, conversely, it means as long as I know where to draw the line, I can do anything. I haven’t given up yet, you know?”

—As expected, this man is the worst deviant in history. I couldn’t believe I’d actually drawn out a statement as horrifying as I’d imagined, if not worse. I wasn’t feeling well enough to move properly, but I struck a threatening pose toward Father Dordon, forcing him to shut his filthy mouth. Since fleeing the city, he had stopped hiding his true colors entirely. Perhaps he felt that since his criminal history would soon be exposed to the Orthodox executive Pomett, there was no point in hiding.

“…Fufu, don’t glare at me like that. Our power dynamic is still balanced. Isn’t it because we both hold information that can ruin the other that we can build trust?”

“…………”

As he said, we both held information that could destroy the other. The flesh of the Heretic adhered to my left hand was a massive weakness that could easily end my life. I was a puppet of a cult that raided villages and collapsed cities, making them uninhabitable; naturally, I was a target for elimination. Honestly, if Pomett had found out, I would have been bound and beheaded without a second thought.

“Do you know why the Arros Temple Sect is so hated?”

“…Isn’t it because you raid villages and towns, kidnapping and killing people? A year ago, you literally destroyed Marietta’s hometown and wiped it off the map. You’re a threat as a terrorist organization.”

“That is a 60-point answer.”

“…Huh?”

“That level of recognition does not grasp the terror felt by the people.”

Father Dordon pinched and pulled at his well-groomed beard. For a criminal, he had a remarkably arrogant way of speaking.

“The Holy Nation of Geluid has fought countless battles against terrorist organizations and hostile nations. We’ve fought dragons that woke from millennia-long slumbers for a century; we’ve had our population decimated by bloody wars and stood on the brink of national extinction… and yet, the people of Geluid and the Kenneth Orthodox followers have kept their bloodline alive to this day. …Compared to such powerful enemies, what is the Arros Temple Sect? The quality of their soldiers is far inferior to the national army, their numbers are low. There are the seven wizards who are always in hiding. Of course, the executives are terrifyingly strong, but in my view, facing a dragon or a nation is far more frightening. …In other words, the Heretics are only ‘lower-middle’ in terms of scale as an enemy.”

“What…? You’re saying the Heretics are lower-middle? Even though they cause so much suffering?”

Father Dordon spoke in an orderly tone. When I tried to object, his gnarled hand blocked me.

“I am speaking strictly in terms of scale. They do not have the power to engage the nation head-on yet. …However, the Arros Temple Sect is likely the one that has made the Holy Nation of Geluid and the Kenneth Orthodox suffer the most in the last few hundred years. They know how to exhaust a nation. It is their cunning. It is off the charts.”

“…For example, what kind?”

“I shall give you cases. …‘I saw a dead Heretic, and he had the exact face of my son who was kidnapped years ago.’ ‘My daughter, kidnapped by Heretics, returned alive; but when I took her in, she was a corpse manipulated by enemy dark arts. The village burned.’ ‘The crops sold at the market were laced with dark art poisons, and several townspeople turned into zombies. Since then, we are only allowed to buy wholesale from Orthodox-approved merchants.’ …How is that? Nauseatingly troublesome, isn’t it?”

What he listed were just a few examples. When I asked Dordon more, the results of the Heretics’ horrific acts, which I could only think of as beastly, flowed endlessly into my head.

As far as our normal conversation went, I could see how he had dedicated himself to his duties as a priest. At his core, he was a deviant, but the mask of the perfect priest he had worn for decades silenced me.

“…And this ‘Executive Bomb’ is the worst, most vile invention to shake the nation. It is a perfect strategy that is almost impossible to deal with or prevent.”

I looked down at my left hand, staring intently at the flesh adhered to my three fingers.

“…So, depending on how these fingers are used, destroying this country bit by bit isn’t just a dream.”

“Precisely. Combined with ‘Zombie Poison,’ ‘Executive Bomb’… it is more than enough to destroy the country from within.”

“The Heretics’ goal is to destroy the Kenneth Orthodox, right? How can they go this far?”

“…That, I do not know. I heard a story years ago, but according to an Orthodox executive, their goal is to hijack the ‘Holy Nation of Geluid’ and expand the scale of their sect. I do not know what the Founder Arros is thinking, but it seems there is a significant grudge against the Kenneth Orthodox. That is likely why they use so many cunning methods. Perhaps the conquest of the country is a result of revenge.”

Founder Arros holds a grudge against the Kenneth Orthodox. Upon hearing that, I asked what the Church had done to Arros.

The answer I got was “I don’t know.” I knew that much. I didn’t think it was because they gave Arros special persecution, but rather that the things the Church does routinely in the Holy Nation of Geluid were the trigger for Arros’s grudge.

“People suffering under taxes, suffering from magical beast damage or crop failure, people lamenting poverty, people suffering from plagues… and people who, like me, were unlucky enough to be tormented by a shitty priest… there are quite a few plausible reasons.”

“Isn’t that hopeless?”

“Slurp. Indeed it is. However, I am a priest. Even though I have seen suffering people, I honestly do not understand their feelings. In that sense, one could say it was only a matter of time before Arros was born in this country.”

“…………”

People other than priests carry various heavy burdens. Come to think of it, Makena-san’s village wasn’t wealthy either. Measures against magical beast packs were put on the back burner, and if not for Makena-san, treatment for the injured and care for the sick would have been impossible.

The Kenneth Orthodox isn’t perfect, but I get the impression that dysfunction is accelerating because of the Heretics. As if reading my thoughts, Father Dordon told me solemnly.

“I may be the one saying this… but the Kenneth Orthodox falls into the ‘decent’ category. There are many bad parts, but the majority of the people live normally. …Even if the Heretics, who can only destroy, were to conquer this country, nothing would go well and it would end. Either the sect would grow too large to be led, causing infighting and self-destruction, or they would pick fights with other countries and expand the war… either way, only the Kenneth Orthodox can lead this country.”

“You’re really one to talk.”

“Slurp. Well, it is all a matter of indifference to me, who has become a man hunted by the nation. Whether it is the Kenneth Orthodox or the Arros Temple Sect… I care not what happens to any of it. But—”

Father Dordon, his expression shifting from that of a priest to that of a madman, stretched his reddish-purple tongue to the tip of his nose, and then grabbed my wrists while breathing heavily like a dog.

“—Oakley-kun. I want to keep thinking… only about you…”

“Guh…!? You, are you kidding—”

Beside the roaring bonfire, I was pinned down by a massive body over 190 centimeters tall. I tried to scream and struggle, but with him mounted on my waist, I had no way to escape.

“Oakley-kun. Let’s hold a ceremony when we arrive at the Holy Capital Sasfect. Let’s get married. It is my dream. Ah, yes. Let us also adopt. A child like you—with a slender neck, black eyes, and a bit muscular. I also want to make children. Tell me, Oakley-kun, how much of this can we achieve?”

“Men can’t give birth to babies, you idiot!! Just die!!”

The fact that Father Dordon was missing fingers on his left hand worked in my favor. I seized a moment of weakness, freed one hand, and accurately shook his bearded jaw with a fist.

“O, Ooh…!”

The clean hit against the giant Dordon had an effect beyond imagination. The strength of his restraint weakened, allowing me to narrowly escape. I quickly scrambled out from under Father Dordon and rubbed my wrists, which had turned blue from being forcefully crushed.

“You perverted bastard, always leaving an opening. I really wish you’d just die.”

I put distance between myself and Father Dordon, grabbing my dagger to defend myself. Meanwhile, half of my vision suddenly brightened.

I turned my head toward the light source and saw the leisurely sunrise beginning. Sunlight pouring down from the magnificent mountain range. It seemed it had become morning while we were busy with various things. Father Dordon glared at the beautiful sunrise with an expression of annoyance, looked away, and began retying his shoelaces.

“It ruins the mood. I have a policy of only attacking boys at night. So, rest assured.”

“How am I supposed to be reassured by that flow?”

“It is what I call a personal rule. It has wilted my spirit.”

“What kind of obsession is that…”

Father Dordon stood up, bathed in the morning sun. He snatched the dagger he had placed near his luggage and drew it with a metallic shing.

“…By the way, Oakley-kun, have you noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“The sound of horses’ hooves. Something is coming.”

Immediately after that statement, a group appeared on the horizon. With the rising sun in the background, a mysterious group of horsemen approached.

Father Dordon muttered, stunned. “Bandits.” Perhaps surprised by his own words, the priest turned back to me.

“They’re bandits, Oakley-kun. We shall fight.”

“D-damn it! Why me!”

I hurriedly equipped my dagger and put on the black glove on my left hand. In a few seconds, the bandits came into clear view, and tension ran through me. There were about ten of them. They seemed quite numerous.

(But—!)

I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the ex-priest standing next to me. A thick chest, thick arms. In addition to a body of steel that one wouldn’t believe was 75 years old, he had the foundation of combat cultivated through military service and murder.

Right now, I felt more reassured by this man than by any other ally. No matter what kind of enemy attacked, I couldn’t see a future where we would lose. I shouted to the old man standing beside me and lowered my hips.

“Father Dordon, protect me as if your life depends on it!”

“Aye. I understand.”

Thus, the battle between us and the bandits began.