Chapter 98

Legacy of the Living

They left the underground prison.

Outside, the sun had already set, and a crescent moon hung in the night sky.

“How many days has it been?” she asked.

“About three,” Karal replied.

The guard had brought food four times, so she had thought it had only been a day or two—but three? No wonder the hunger had been so intense.

They tied up the guard sprawled near the entrance and locked him inside the tunnel. Then they carefully peeked outside.

The underground prison was located beneath the eastern tower of the inner fortress. They could see the lord’s residence and the inner gate, but the residence was far, and the gate was closed.

“There’s no need to go to the residence. I grabbed what I could.”

Karal jerked his chin toward one side of the tower. Leaning against the wall were branches of spirit wood, along with swords and axes—the weapons confiscated when they were captured by Margrave Olnef. As for the rest of their belongings, he added that they couldn’t bring them due to their bulk.

They gathered their gear and left the tower.

The inner fortress was quiet. Braziers were placed here and there, but few were lit. Staying within the shadows, they climbed the wall stairs. After the guard passed, they slipped down along the outer wall.

Once they escaped the inner fortress, they took the main road.

Even at that late hour, several shops near the main gate had oil lamps lit, and there were still people coming and going. They passed right by patrols without drawing suspicion.

Their destination was near the northern gate—a nearby inn.

“You’ve gotten thinner.”

The inn also functioned as a tavern, so it was fairly crowded. As the four of them entered, someone in the corner raised a hand.

A woman seated at a table with two others—Beatrice.

With attendants seated on either side, she looked up at Roberta and smiled.

“Yes… we went through a bit of trouble.”

Roberta gave an awkward smile in return.

“You couldn’t have arrived after the gates closed… did something happen?”

“We were imprisoned.”

Ulrich answered as if it were nothing and pulled a chair over to sit.

“…Prison?”

“Yes. That’s how it turned out.”

Beatrice blinked, then frowned. She muttered something under her breath, but her voice was drowned out by noise from another table. It was likely a curse directed at the archbishop or the margrave.

“When did you arrive, Lady Beatrice?”

Before she could start cursing aloud, Roberta interjected.

“I arrived the evening before yesterday.”

“In the evening? That was quite fast.”

“I switched horses and rode without rest as soon as I received your letter. Even then, I thought I might be late. When I didn’t hear anything, I assumed you had already moved ahead.”

Her gaze shifted to Karal.

“You must be Brother Karal? I heard you belong to the Dawn Society.”

“That’s right… and you are?”

Instead of answering, Beatrice removed the glove from her right hand and showed the back of it.

Karal saw the emblem and fell silent.

“I received the situation through the letter. That Yusuf’s tomb was bait, and that Giacomo is targeting the Dawn Society’s relic. Is there anything else I should know?”

There was—but Roberta hesitated. It was too deep a secret to speak openly in such a crowded place.

“The archbishop is seeking the relic for the sake of Hestio’s descendant.”

Ulrich answered bluntly, rendering her hesitation meaningless.

“…What?”

Beatrice flinched, her expression showing disbelief.

“He has found a descendant not of Kormilius. It seems he intends to use that child to replace the lineage.”

Roberta, Fritz, and Karal all glanced around in alarm at his unreserved disclosure.

Fortunately, no one seemed to be listening. Their table was tucked in a corner, and the noise of the tavern drowned out their voices.

“…That’s quite an interesting story.”

Beatrice smiled, though the corner of her lips twitched.

“Yes. Quite interesting.”

“I’d like to hear more. You’re not leaving immediately, are you?”

“If we’re traveling by horse, we’ll have to wait until the gates open. So we have some time.”

Beatrice nodded and stood.

***

At dawn, as soon as the gates opened, they rode west.

It seemed the prison escape had not yet been discovered overnight—no one stopped them.

They headed toward a mountain about a day’s distance west of Huslen. At the foot of the mountain, beneath a cliff, stood a small fortress. It had once been built to guard the valley, but after a road was constructed below the mountain, it had lost its importance.

However, when Ulrich’s group arrived, there were more soldiers atop its walls than even in Huslen’s inner fortress.

“Been a while, Sir Sidoar.”

Karal rode slowly toward the gate and called out.

From atop the closed gate, a young knight—Sidoar—looked down at them. At a glance, he appeared stubborn, and his gaze toward Karal was sharp.

“Karal! The margrave must have given you orders.”

“To wait quietly, you mean?”

“Then why are you here?”

As Karal was about to answer, another knight approached Sidoar and whispered something into his ear.

Sidoar’s expression hardened, and he glared at Karal and the others behind him.

“So you freed the prisoners. Have you betrayed your lord?”

“Rather than betrayal, I’d call it loyalty in my own way.”

Sidoar let out a scoffing laugh.

“You came here for the relic, yet you have the nerve to speak like that.”

Karal shrugged.

“That’s not something someone who stabs others in the back should be saying.”

“I did it for the margrave!”

“Oh, is that so?”

With a mocking curl of his lips, Karal tilted his head slightly.

Sidoar raised his right hand.

The soldiers atop the wall drew their bows.

“You wretched worm—get lost!”

Two arrows flew toward them as a warning.

Karal snorted and pulled his horse back.

“As you can see, he’s not someone you can reason with.”

Turning her gaze away from Karal’s grumbling, Roberta examined the fortress.

The walls were exceptionally high. Even for a place that wasn’t a strategic stronghold, they were built excessively tall. Clearly, it was to protect Yusuf’s relics inside.

She looked around for another way in besides the main gate, but at a glance, there was none.

“It doesn’t look like we can force our way in.”

There were easily over a hundred soldiers stationed atop the walls.

“Even trying to sneak in at night would be difficult. They’ve already seen us.”

On top of that, they were on full alert after spotting outsiders.

“The easiest way would be to wait for the archbishop to come out.”

According to Karal, there was only one entrance to the relic vault—and only one gate to the fortress.

Roberta glanced at Ulrich beside her.

“That is one option.”

He turned his horse away from the fortress and began to ride off. Roberta and the others followed.

Laughter rang out behind them. The soldiers were mocking them, thinking they had given up and retreated.

But then—

“Wait a moment.”

Ulrich suddenly turned his horse around and charged straight toward the fortress.

The soldiers on the walls were startled by the sudden charge, but the distance gave them time to recover. They quickly drew their bows.

Dozens of arrows flew toward a single man.

Several struck his horse.

As the horse collapsed forward, Ulrich kicked off the saddle and leapt.

He soared toward the wall—of course, he couldn’t clear it in one jump. Instead, he drove a dagger into the gap between the stones.

How he even found that gap was unknown.

He buried the blade deep and hung from the wall.

“Here! Shoot here!”

The archers shouted, cursing his stubbornness as they loosed more arrows.

With a single leap, he had already climbed halfway up the wall—but what of it? He was just an easy target. That must have been what they thought.

But Ulrich braced himself, then leapt again.

With the dagger in his other hand, he struck another gap.

Twice more he repeated the motion—

And then he was on top of the wall.

How many arrows had pierced him during that acrobatic climb didn’t matter.

He didn’t die.

Rather, the soldiers, shaken by the sight, began to hesitate and step back. Sidoar charged at him with a shout—but that was all.

Sidoar collapsed helplessly.

Moments later, the gate opened.

***

The entrance to the relic vault was in a structure built against the cliff.

Behind the wall of what appeared to be a grain storage building, a hidden underground passage led inward. The entrance was taller than a man and faced toward the cliff.

Torches were mounted at regular intervals along the neatly carved stone stairs. After descending for some time, a long corridor stretched ahead.

At the end of it stood an open door.

Beyond it was a rectangular chamber, long from side to side, like an extension of the corridor.

How much must it have cost to build such a space beneath a mountain?

But there was reason enough.

The vault was filled with display cases—

And not a single one was empty.

Roberta had assumed there would be at most a few dozen relics.

But here, there were well over a hundred.

Then again, Yusuf had been a thief—not a creator. He stole relics rather than making them. In that sense, it was only natural.

“How disappointing, Karal.”

Roberta, who had been captivated by the relics, turned her head.

At the far end of the vault was a raised platform.

And standing there—arriving before them—were others.

Margrave Olnef. Archbishop Giacomo. And around a dozen retainers.

“You didn’t promise to help me again?”

“My apologies, Lord Olnef. No matter how I think about it, I just couldn’t accept it.”

Olnef let out a sigh.

“You’ve always been like this. Never hesitating to speak your mind. That’s why I valued you… but…”

He glanced at the archbishop beside him.

“My apologies. This is my mistake.”

“It’s fine. I expected this much. That’s why I hurried when I heard the inquisitor had come to Langen.”

His gaze shifted to Ulrich’s group.

“Though… your numbers seem rather small.”

Only seven of them.

The archbishop tilted his head slightly. He had brought over fifty retainers, yet the group that had broken through to reach here was so few—it seemed odd to him.

“Does gathering a bunch of useless trash make any difference?”

At Beatrice’s provocation, the archbishop let out a short laugh.

“How arrogant. Well, you’ve made it this far, so perhaps it’s warranted. But it seems you’ve forgotten something important—where you are.”

“The vault. Yusuf’s relic vault. So what?”

“Have you ever thought about why Yusuf gathered these? It was to prevent them from being misused. Which also means they are dangerous objects capable of misuse.”

Turning his back, the archbishop walked toward the display at the edge of the platform.

Unlike the rest, there were only four displays there.

And each held a single item.

“To call it ‘misuse’ is amusing. Not just anyone can wield a relic. The more valuable the relic, the more it demands qualification. Truly dangerous relics cannot be misused at all—because no one but their rightful owner can use them.”

He picked up a crystal sphere.

It was large enough to fill one hand, completely transparent.

“But there is an exception. The blood of Hestio—our Father. Those who carry that blood can wield any relic. Even the creator of the relic cannot reject them.”

A gray current began to swirl inside the crystal, like mist gathering.

“What—”

A gust of wind swept through—

And their bodies froze.

Their senses were intact. Their minds were clear.

But their bodies would not obey.

No matter how hard they tried to move, they could not.

Unable to exert any strength, they could only remain as they were, staring at the platform.

“We used this to distinguish the true bloodline of Kormilius. Whether they could use the relics kept in the Pantheon or not. And at times, the true bloodline granted us permission—to use Father’s legacy despite not carrying his blood. That is what we call grace.”

Giacomo cupped the crystal sphere with both hands.

This time, its color changed—spreading like red dye.

Another gust of wind followed.

“This is what I am receiving from that person right now.”

Her breath tightened.

It felt as though a heavy weight pressed down on her chest, yet she could not even clutch it. The cold seeped into her like the heart of a frozen continent, yet she could not shiver.

The mana emanating from the crystal sphere was constricting her very breath.

Then—

Ulrich took a step forward.

The vault was saturated with mana, yet not a single strand of it bound him.