Chapter 92

Saint Miriam Orphanage (2)

Thunk—!

The cylindrical log split cleanly in half beneath the vertically swinging axe.

It had been three days since I started staying at this orphanage.

“Phew—!”

The body that had been aching nonstop without rest had stabilized somewhat, to the point where I could now handle rough work like this.

“Oppa Klein is freaking terrible at chopping wood.”

… Of course, being able to do something and being good at it were two completely different matters.

“Wow, Matt actually won.”
“So Leinrant isn’t that special after all.”
“Or maybe Brother Klein’s the one who’s not special?”*

Seeing a twelve-year-old kid who had chopped more than twice as much firewood as me naturally filled me with self-loathing.

“Kkook!”

As I silently watched the scene, the black owl sitting on top of my head lightly pecked at my crown.

It was telling me not to rest and to keep chopping wood, wasn’t it?

“To think I’ve sunk so low that even a bird’s working me like a slave now.”

When I muttered that while staring at the fist-sized owl perched on my head, Arin’s dissatisfied voice rang out.

“It’s not just a bird! It’s a bird friend!”

Did she mean a new friend, or literally a bird friend?

While I entertained the pointless thought to myself, the pitch-black owl perched on my head flew up and settled onto Arin’s head instead.

“Hehehe!”

Arin, chewing on a potato she had stolen from the dining hall, looked upward and giggled.

“But what’s its name? Blackie?”

One of the children who had gathered around to see the owl asked that.

“You were just trying to secretly decide its name yourself, weren’t you?”
“Tch, busted.”

As if disappointed her plan failed, the child puffed out their lips, and the owl flew toward them.

“Ooooh! It’s spinning in place!”
“Blackie’s smart!”

‘I should absolutely never let that name stick.’

On the surface, the sight of the children playing with the little bird looked quite heartwarming.

Of course, only on the surface.

From my perspective, knowing the true identities of those two beings…

Honestly, I didn’t even know how to describe it.

‘It got smaller, but there’s no mistake. This thing is that chimera from back then.’

I thought of the experimental subject that had been underground in the reformatory.

The soul bound to it had been removed, but the magical power contained within its body must have remained intact.

And while I had been unconscious, Arin condensed that magical power and processed it into a kind of magical lifeform.

‘Not that I’m complaining. It’s basically an increase in firepower.’

Most of the magical power the chimera imprisoned underground possessed had been preserved.

Depending on how it was used, it was a creature capable of unleashing terrifying destructive power.

I was already worried about what the mages in Felician would say if they saw this thing.

“What, that’s all you managed?”

After focusing on chopping wood for two hours, Sister Miriam’s evaluation of my results was merciless.

“You were acting all tough saying you were completely healed, so I wondered how good you’d be, but this is barely rat-shit worth of work.”
“Rat… what?”

I’d always thought nobody could beat me when it came to foul language.

Thankfully, it seemed I was still far from matching this nun.

“Kikikik!”

Of course, even more merciless than her were the evaluations from the children who had joined in chopping wood.

“They say Oppa Klein freaking sucks at chopping wood~”
“They say it’s not even half of what Sven did~”

Comparing my pile to the towering one beside it, Miriam smirked and placed a cigarette between her lips.

“There’s no more work for you lot, so get inside. The freeloading bum stays.”
“Whoa! Brother Klein’s doing overtime!”
“What about you, Sister? Aren’t you coming too?”

The kids mocked me while asking her that.

In response, Sister Miriam raised the glass bottle in her hand.

“Uwek!”
“Sister’s drinking again.”

It was a strong whiskey bottle that had to be over sixty proof.

‘Drinking and smoking in front of kids… she’s really something.’

Apparently I wasn’t the only one thinking that, because the children grumbled before heading back inside the building.

“Haa… finally, some peace and quiet.”

After confirming the children’s voices had faded away, Sister Miriam sat atop the pile of firewood and took a swig from the bottle.

A brief silence followed.

But before long, I realized she had intentionally created a situation to talk with me.

“You said you were Father Garrison’s teacher.”
“I did.”

When I spoke while sitting on the firewood pile like her, she answered.

Garrison’s teacher.

Former Acting Executor.

Hearing those two titles made it clear why she could speak so casually to the Pope.

And why this orphanage could remain unharmed despite Palliman’s threats.

“If you’re someone like that… then I assume you also know very well what kind of situation I’m in.”
“I do.”

After saying that, Miriam lit her cigarette instead of reaching for the liquor bottle.

“First they plastered headlines all over the continent calling you Archimond’s reincarnation.”

I nodded at that.

“Then things finally started calming down a little, only for you to stir up trouble involving every cousin and distant relative you had and throw the whole place into mourning.”

It wasn’t all me… I almost argued back, but stopped myself.

Thinking about it, it really did feel like it was all my doing.

“And now, they’re calling you a necromancer after you crawled into the reformatory yourself and completely blew the whole damn place apart.”

The news that the Kripel Heretic Reformatory had vanished probably hadn’t spread very far yet.

She had likely heard about it from Garrison.

“At that point, you probably know what the Holy Nation thinks of me.”
“Yeah. They’re dying to kill you.”

I looked at Miriam as she said that and asked,

“Then why are you protecting me this much despite all that?”

Even if she was a former Acting Executor.
Even if she was someone close enough to speak casually with the Pope.

No one would do this without a reason.

“If you intend to ask something of me in return for this, then at least tell me in advance—!”
“Puhaha—!”

Right as I reached that point, Sister Miriam opened her mouth toward me and blew out a thick cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Cough! Cough! What the hell are you doing?!”

I shouted while coughing violently from the acrid smoke.

I was already annoyed enough by how often I’d been coughing lately!

“A brat this damn young already acting all miserable pisses me off, that’s why!”

Completely unfazed by my irritation, Sister Miriam spoke while I kept coughing.

“Do you know how many nobles have signed up as regular sponsors for this orphanage?”

At her words, I tilted my head in confusion.

“Klein Leinrant. You’re the only one.”

After saying that, Sister Miriam let out another puff of cigarette smoke.

“This place was made eight years ago to gather the children that Garrison rescued from the reformatory.”
“…!”

A few vagrant children and abandoned kids had been mixed in there too.

At Sister Miriam’s words, I was left speechless for a moment.

“From the Holy Nation’s perspective, they’re all just thorns in the eye, so there’s no way proper support would ever come.”

As she said that, Miriam poked me in the chest.

“And in the middle of all that, the reason those kids can live here with me like this… if you really think about it, it’s all thanks to you.”

Speaking bluntly, Sister Miriam crushed out the completely burned cigarette and rose from her seat.

“So think of protecting your back as payment for that. Don’t come here acting all miserable for no reason.”

Hearing that, I let out a small laugh and stood up as well.

“Then may I ask one more thing?”
“What is it?”

As if she had already expected my question, her answer came immediately.

“Why Garrison is so obsessed with the name Archimond.”

“I want to know the reason.”

I couldn’t keep getting chased around by him forever like this.

To untangle a knotted thread, I first had to know where it started.

At my question, Miriam silently took another swig from the liquor bottle.

Gulp. Gulp.

The old nun poured the alcohol down her throat in one go without even stopping to breathe.

“Puhaah!”

Only after draining nearly half the bottle in a single breath did Sister Miriam finally open her mouth.

“…… There used to be a group called the ‘Hand of Archimond.’”

Archimond.

The moment my name came up, my fists tightened.

“A cult organization that rampaged in an attempt to resurrect Archimond, the leader of the necromancers.”

I frowned at the all-too-familiar structure.

The northern wall.
The battle inside the secret passage.
And even the corpses we encountered at the end.

“Garrison was a sacrifice meant to be used in their ritual.”

Crack…

As Miriam spoke, the liquor bottle in her hand rapidly emptied.

“And the ones who offered him up as the sacrifice were his own birth parents.”

Hearing that, I almost unconsciously snatched the bottle from her hand.

“At the time, I was an Acting Executor, tasked with suppressing that ritual… and that’s where I met Garrison.”

Even as my questions were answered, my teeth ground together.

Because I realized that the source of his devotion to the Order—
and his endless hatred toward Archimond—
all originated from me.

“And then… you raised him as your successor.”
“I did.”

Miriam tilted the bottle again, but before long she frowned and grumbled.

“Tch. It’s empty.”

Throwing aside the now-empty bottle, she searched for a second cigarette from inside her clothes as she continued.

“I raised Garrison, while Brigante raised Palliman as their respective successors.”

Palliman.

The moment that familiar name surfaced, my gaze turned toward her.

“Yeah. That Palliman you’re thinking of.”

As though she too knew his true nature, she spoke with a troubled expression.

“So that’s why he called Garrison his friend.”
“They were friends closer than brothers. They crawled through the same hell together.”

Even while speaking, Miriam looked irritated, her hand moving faster as she searched for a cigarette.

“Haa……”

Meanwhile, after organizing my thoughts, I let out a sigh and looked up at the sky.

‘So in the end… it was you bastards again.’

Alongside the murky emotions I had felt at the wall, a twisted smile slipped through my blank expression.

‘Maggots crawling out nonstop while using my name.’

I recalled the time I headed toward the Ice Fortress.
I recalled capturing the dead necromancer and peering into his memories.
I recalled the next destination chosen by those who failed to breach the wall.

“… Felician.”
“What?”

At my sudden mutter, Sister Miriam, now holding a cigarette between her lips, asked back.

“I need to go to Felician.”

As soon as I said that, she stared silently at my face before speaking.

“You’re a guy who should be worrying about your upcoming heresy trial first, and suddenly you’re talking about going to a country all the way at the eastern edge?”
“Yes. I have to go.”

As I answered, I desperately forced my mind to work.

‘Since they stopped the Holy Blood research, that buys us around half a year.’

That short span of six months.

If not now, I didn’t know when another opportunity like this would come.

‘The Empire will need time before it starts moving again, the Order’s research momentum has been broken, Ian’s condition worries me, and if I want to grasp the future political climate…’

The countless variables I had organized in my head began colliding chaotically.

The blueprint I had been planning, the situation across the continent, the condition of the territory, and the people around me.

And as my thoughts endlessly piled atop one another—

“……”

My cluttered mind suddenly turned blank white.

No thoughts came at all.

‘Right. All of these are just excuses.’

Profit and loss.
Efficiency.
Justification.

Just as Klein Leinrant always did, the complicated calculations in my head were instantly swept away.

‘I just want to go to Felician right now and slaughter every last one of those bastards.’

What remained was pure emotion.

Not the emotions of Klein Leinrant—
but the emotions of who I used to be.

Not the second son of House Leinrant,
but a single lowly necromancer.

“I’ll go to Felician.”

Archimond’s emotions were screaming with all their might.

That he could no longer stand by and watch.
That he absolutely could not tolerate this any longer.

“I’m going to hunt down every single member of the Archimond Cult and wipe them out.”