The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 34

Oscar respectfully conveyed the order to Philip. Philip took one last look at Leon, adjusted his already immaculate white uniform, and left without a word.

Soon, only Leon and Oscar were left in the sunlit hallway. Silence, like that of a still-life painting, stretched on until Oscar finally spoke.

“Sir Berg.”

Leon, who had been staring out the window, turned his gaze. Oscar chose his words carefully, like someone writing a funeral notice, and finally spoke.

“Miss Schwarzwald wishes to meet with you.”

“Schwarzwald?”

“Yes. She wants to speak to you directly about the vision.”

A brief silence followed. Oscar, waiting, glanced at Leon with curiosity.

Veronica Schwarzwald. He had used the correct name, hadn’t he? She had introduced herself that way. Yet Leon’s reaction was as if hearing the name of a stranger. Slowly, Leon’s expression, initially indifferent, twisted oddly. It was as if he had realized something—

“Schwarzwald.”

Leon repeated, almost tasting the word.

“I see.”

He stared at Oscar intently. If she was still alive, it meant someone had extended holy power to her. And Leon had a good idea of who that someone was. It couldn’t have been anyone else. Especially since Oscar, looking more human than when Leon had left, stood before him now.

“I don’t see the need to visit her in person. What’s it about?”

“His Holiness has ordered me to keep my mouth shut, so I have no right to speak of it.”

“Then it’s something I shouldn’t know about.”

“It concerns the commander. If I may be allowed a word—”

“Permission denied.”

Oscar looked flustered at Leon’s curt interruption. Leon continued with a cold smile, “Are you planning to disclose classified information to an outsider not even part of the Order?”

Leon, expelled from the Order, was nothing more than a mercenary in the eyes of the Holy See. If the detachment hadn’t sided with him upon their safe return, he could have been executed for abetting noble murder. There was no reason for Leon to reach for information the Pope wanted to control.

“If the vision isn’t about the location of ‘it,’ I’m not interested. Has ‘it’ moved from the Blasen Mountains to somewhere else?”

Oscar shook his head, his face hardening. Just as Leon expected. He recalled the Bahamut standing atop the cliff during the battle. The woman had seen him back then. If it wasn’t about where ‘it’ was, he had no interest.

Leon only waited for Mecklenburg to return. Since the Commander had also set foot in Blasen, he surely understood the severity of the situation. With the influence of the Grand Duke, even the Emperor’s army might be deployed.

It must end. Before it’s too late. There’s no room for distraction.

“The moment she woke, she asked for you.”

Leon had just turned away when Oscar spoke, his sentence lacking a subject.

“Who said anything about sleeping together? I just asked you to stay by my side. Just for today.”

“I meant… don’t leave me here all alone.”

“…If you stay with me just for today, I’ll give it back to you.”

His chest tightened unpleasantly. It was as if he had swallowed shards of a knife, his lungs aching in protest. The most ridiculous part was the strange possessiveness that surged within him. He had tossed her aside, and yet, like a child enraged when someone touched their abandoned toy, he felt fury.

“She must have been parched. Why don’t you go care for her some more.”

Leon muttered lowly and walked down the hallway without waiting for a reply.

Cutting people off was never difficult. It was something he had done his entire life. He had abandoned even his own blood family; a woman he had shared brief warmth with was nothing in comparison. Once he killed her in his heart, calm indifference would follow—for both him and her.

***

In the darkened room, nuns moved in and out, bringing dinner and water to wash. But Leon did not come, even as the night deepened.

Veronica sat huddled in the corner, sobbing like a child. The stone floor should have been cold, yet her whole body felt as if it were engulfed in flames. The more she struggled in pain, the deeper she seemed to sink into a snare. There was no escaping it.

“I need to repay the debt…”

She moved her dried tongue to form words. As her voice reached her ears, her brain briefly started working again. Memories flashed before her eyes.

The ashes of her hometown. The snowfield where she had hugged herself with both arms. The man with red hair flowing as he handed her a glass there.

She wanted to be his equal.

If she were to explain why she wanted to meet him, that was it. She wanted to repay him for the salvation he had given her. Only then could she accept his drink with pride.

Standing alone together in the wilderness, there was much she wanted to say. Veronica wanted to regain her lost freedom and confess. Since some point, I’ve…

Her thoughts broke off as her fingers, dry like twigs, twitched convulsively. When she pressed her withered right hand with her left, her senses returned. She heard hurried footsteps approaching from the hallway. Soon, the door clanged open, and someone came to stand before her. Veronica wasn’t even surprised. By now, she knew who it was just by the sound of his footsteps.

Again, without fail, it was Oscar Berg.

There was something different this time, though—his attire. Instead of the usual steel plate armor, Oscar wore the scaled armor of the guards who patrolled the hallway, his face hidden beneath a helmet. Sensing something unusual, Veronica struggled to sit up.

“Where’s Leon?”

“Sir Berg will not be coming. Stand up.”

As he spoke, Oscar helped her up. With no strength in her legs, it was less like she stood and more like he lifted her. He quickly handed her a black robe he held in one hand—a one-piece garment connected from top to bottom, with a veil to cover her hair.

“Keep your head down so your eyes don’t draw attention. If anyone asks anything, I’ll answer for you, so do not speak.”

“…What exactly is going on?”

“Sir Wittelsbach, no, the deputy commander has sentenced you to death. The executioner will be here soon.”

Sentenced to death.

A cold finger of death traced down her spine. Veronica pressed her throbbing temples and started putting on the robe. She quickly pinpointed what she found most confusing about the man before her.

“Why are you helping me?”

Veiled, Veronica tried to look up at him despite the dizziness and nausea.

“Just earlier today, you seemed like a knight who valued orders above all.”

“I still do. I am merely following Commander Mecklenburg’s orders. Before he left, he told me to make sure to keep the assimilator alive.”

But that commander had died. And surely, the Pope must have given his permission for such an act. Even if she didn’t fully understand, Oscar would be in serious trouble if they were caught. Was this just unyielding faith, or a personal action of his own?

She couldn’t tell. But…

“Thank you.”

Veronica spoke clearly. The man hidden behind his helmet paused, then moved toward the door.

“Save that for…”

He didn’t finish his sentence because of the visitor standing at the now-open door. Veronica, having turned her head to see what was happening, nearly screamed at the sight of the man standing in the doorway. She had grown used to Leon’s large frame, so few knights could surprise her. But this man—with his stomach bulging like a barrel, sagging face, and a height that reached the ceiling—was colossal.

“What brings you here, Executioner?”

Oscar spoke after a long pause. Wearing the helmet had been a good move. Though his voice sounded calm, his face was undoubtedly stiffened.

“The deputy commander’s execution order—transport the heretic to the second end room.”

The man’s voice was clumsy, yet the deepest she had ever heard, as if it belonged more to a monster in a fairy tale than a human. Bowing her head, Veronica caught sight of the massive axe in the man’s hand. The handle was as long as a staff, and the blade was larger than her face twice over.

What made her truly tense, however, was his mention of the “second end room.”

The very last room of the black corridor was where Veronica had first stayed. So the room next to it…

Thump. Thump. Her heart pounded like an axe striking a wall. The intermittent pounding she had heard echoed in her mind, and a cold shiver ran through her body.

“Ah, you mean the assimilated one who was here. She must have been moved elsewhere. We just came to check on the room while treating the woman as usual.”

Oscar spoke as if confused, pulling Veronica behind him to show the room’s interior.

The Executioner ducked his head, looking inside. The room was empty. After a moment of silence, Oscar spoke again.

“In that case, we’ll take our leave now and ask the deputy commander if he knows anything about this.”

“Wait.”

As the Executioner turned his head from the room and spoke, folds formed on his neck, and a stench, like that of rotting flesh, wafted out. Veronica held her breath, her already nauseous stomach churning.

“Affiliation.”

“We work under the Quartermaster.”

With that, silence fell once again. Veronica clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to hold onto her waning consciousness. It hurt enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“Not the Quartermaster.”

Then the Executioner bent his massive frame, sniffing audibly. He pointed his huge finger at Veronica.

“I smell blood.”