***
“Do you know about Ditmarschen?”
At Parish Head Alonso’s question, Priest Roberta blinked her eyes.
“Pardon?”
“Do you not know it?”
Ditmarschen.
She searched for that place name within her mind.
“If you are speaking of the place at the northern tip of the Osnober Kingdom, I have heard that it is the entrance to the ice peninsula, so it is extremely cold and a place filled with monsters.”
“That is right. I was once the head priest there.”
Alonso nodded once and leaned against the back of his chair, closing his eyes. It was a habit that emerged whenever he began to think deeply about something, and because Roberta knew this well, she let out a sigh internally and turned her gaze away.
It was a day in late spring.
It was also a lunchtime where the sunlight came through the mosaic windows to warm one’s body and induce drowsiness.
Roberta was a twenty-three-year-old young priest, and she was in charge of the task of copying scriptures at the scriptorium prepared on one side of the Nua Great Temple. Having been working sluggishly while letting out constant yawns until a moment ago, she had suddenly received a summons from the Parish Head.
‘Is he going to send me on a dispatch somewhere?’
She had taken it lightly.
Since the Nua Great Temple was the place where the Parish Head resided and performed his duties, there were plenty of people to lend a hand, but she was the youngest among the priests. She was often called upon for tasks that were difficult to entrust to an apprentice.
For example, monster hunting, ruins exploration, or acting as an observer.
“I would like to entrust that place to you.”
However, the proposal that came out of the Parish Head’s mouth was unexpected.
“I mean to say that I will recommend you as the head priest.”
Roberta was handed a letter.
Its contents stated that the head priest of Ditmarschen had gone missing, creating a vacancy in duties, and therefore a successor should be decided upon and sent immediately. At the very bottom, the seal of the Pope of the Pantheon was stamped.
“Pardon?”
Her reaction was the exact same single word as the first time.
Without even thinking to close her agape mouth, she read the letter over and over again. It could not be helped. Had she not received her priestly ordination only two years ago? And yet, he was already saying he would entrust a whole temple to her?
“For your information, this position is one that His Holiness appoints directly.”
Alonso pointed to the seal with his index finger.
“Is there a Great Temple or something in Ditmarschen…?”
“Of course not. That place is the most remote of remote areas. From its location, it is close to the end of the world, and while it is wider in area than the jurisdiction of our Great Temple, the land available for farming is not even a tenth of it. The population is even smaller.”
Alonso added that the temple there was also just a single one, small and cozy.
“And His Holiness directly appoints the head priest of such a place?”
“Well, the predecessor was a person whom His Holiness chose personally. It seems he went missing because some unsavory incident occurred.”
Missing?
“It seems His Holiness does not wish to experience failure twice. Since I know the circumstances of that place well, he told me—”
“W-Wait a moment!”
Roberta placed the letter on the table, almost dropping it, and raised both her hands to interrupt Alonso’s words. She had no sense at all of where to begin grasping the situation that had come rushing in.
“I am sorry for interrupting you, but let’s go over things one by one. You are saying that the position of head priest in Ditmarschen is vacant, so you intend to recommend me, correct?”
Alonso nodded his head.
“And the reason the position is vacant is that the predecessor went missing.”
“Regrettably, yes.”
He furrowed his brows.
“And that predecessor was someone designated by His Holiness the Pope?”
“Yes. That is how it is. Is it not a simple story?”
“No, it isn't simple at all….”
Roberta’s voice trailed off as the corners of her mouth trembled.
He had spoken in a roundabout way earlier, calling it an ‘unsavory incident,’ but she had an inkling. As the authority of the Pantheon had declined recently, individuals who coveted the temples were appearing among the secular monarchs.
Acts that would have been unimaginable when Roberta first entered the faith, such as confiscating the temple’s assets or exercising the right to appoint clergy, were being carried out brazenly.
In the midst of such things, a priest had gone missing?
It was as plain as day. He had been murdered.
‘He’s entrusting a place like that to me?’
She thought that there was no better example of a poisoned chalice.
“Is it not the priority to find the missing priest first?”
“Do not concern yourself with that matter. His Holiness will also wish for it to be forgotten.”
When she started to say ‘But,’ Alonso cut her off.
“Roberta. What you must do is go to your post immediately and fulfill your responsibilities as the head priest. Keep the matter of your predecessor out of your interest.”
The two of them locked eyes. When Roberta opened her mouth to pry further, Alonso shook his head. It was a sign not to ask anymore, and it was also a sign to accept it quietly.
She wanted to say ‘Fine, then,’ and then stormed out of the seat. However, she could not. How could she, who was nothing more than an ordinary priest, refuse the command of a being who was a Parish Head? Furthermore, she knew Alonso’s personality well.
‘He must have already designated me as the successor.’
Asking for her consent was merely a matter of politeness. The only rebellion she could muster was to let out a deep, obvious sigh and throw out one question.
“Why must it be me, of all people?”
“Because you resemble me.”
She made a peculiar expression.
“Ah, I am not talking about your appearance. I am talking about your personality.”
Alonso stood up from his seat with a smile. Then, he turned his back and looked up at a wooden plaque hanging above the wooden window.
On the left side of the horizontally long wooden plaque, there was a carving of a woman discovering a baby who had fallen on the ground, and on the right side, there was a carving of the baby grown into an adult, handing a torch to a group of creatures resembling monkeys.
It was a depiction of two verses from the scriptures through engravings.
“As you know, my faith is not that deep.”
Roberta quickly looked behind her. To her face came an expression of embarrassment, wondering what would happen if the door were open and someone were to hear.
“Alonsonim.”
At her voice filled with reproach, he shrugged his shoulders.
“It is the truth, isn’t it? These days, how many people truly become priests because of deep faith? They all harbor worldly purposes and don the means. You are the same.”
Roberta cleared her throat and turned her gaze away.
Because her conscience pained her to say that it wasn't so.
“I won't say that it is your natural disposition, but…”
“······.”
“Roberta, I am the person who took you in when you were abandoned. I am also the person who performed your priestly ordination. Even if I am not your biological father, I raised you, so you cannot help but resemble me. Is that not so?”
Feeling awkward, she scratched the back of her neck and turned her gaze away.
“In my younger days, I believe I got along reasonably well as the head priest of Ditmarschen. Therefore, you, who resemble me, will also be able to do well.”
******
After exchanging such a conversation, Roberta headed toward Ditmarschen. It was a journey that took a full four months just for the travel time alone.
There were no companions. Alonso ordered her to go alone, saying that only one person was necessary, and provided her with only some travel money and a single horse.
“Take care of what you lack yourself. You are at that age, are you not?”
Among the things he told her to "take care of" was information. Alonso told her nothing. Even though he must have known many things from having been the head priest there for over ten years, he did not share even a single story with Roberta.
‘Thinking about it now, it was strange.’
Alonso had raised Roberta in his arms and told her all sorts of personal experiences as if they were fairy tales, yet he pointedly left out the stories from that period, which was the time he had spent the longest in one place during his life.
Furthermore, recommending her on the grounds that their personalities were similar? While she had unintentionally grown to resemble him while being raised in her foster father’s care, would that really be a reason to recommend someone for an official position?
‘There is… something.’
She left the Great Temple harboring such doubts.
She wanted to know the facts that Alonso had not told her.
At the point of leaving the Great Temple, all she knew was that her post was a place where a priest appointed by the Pope had been killed. Because of this, she asked about Ditmarschen at every place she stopped.
Since she was a priest, she naturally stayed in rooms borrowed from temples, and her informants were also priests. However, for three months, the repeated answer was, “Is that not roughly some place in the north?” Even she, who was like a daughter to the man, knew almost nothing of her foster father’s old post, so there was no way a stranger would know.
It was only upon reaching the Osnober Kingdom that she heard a proper answer.
“They say he is a mixed-blood of the fairies,” an old priest said.
“You mean a Gallua?”
Gallua is a term referring to a mixed-blood between a human and a fairy. There was a similar term, Mannium, which referred to a mixed-blood between a human and a dwarf.
“It is a rumor, at most. However, there are few reasons for someone to live that long otherwise.”
“If you say he has lived long, just how long has it been?”
“Well? I do not know his exact age either. I shared several conversations with him, but looking at his appearance, I could not guess his age. I only estimate it because there is a record that he succeeded the title after a lord named Hilde died. That was 300 years ago.”
Roberta narrowed her eyes.
“He certainly has lived a long time. He must not be an ordinary human.”
“Perhaps he is royalty from somewhere, or a mixed-blood born from a chance encounter.”
It was said that back when the civilizations of dwarves and fairies coexisted with human civilization, humans frequently interacted with them, and thus mixed-bloods were quite common.
So common, in fact, that there were records of kingdoms where the entire populace consisted of mixed-bloods. Gallua and Mannium were originally the names of those kingdoms, but nowadays, they had become words used to lump specific mixed-bloods together. That era was not the era Roberta lived in, but a very, very distant past.
Although it was said that mixed-bloods lived very long lives, they were not immortal. Along with the flow of eras, they lost their independent civilizations and were assimilated into human civilization; now, mixed-bloods were as rare to see as pure-blooded dwarves or fairies.
“And that person’s name?”
“Ulrich. He has no surname. To be precise, it is Ulrich of Ditmarschen, but that is a name he inherited by coming in as a son-in-law, and there were no records regarding the time before that.”
“That is unexpected. Since he lived so long, I thought he would be famous.”
“Hmm, he is famous, all right. Within this country, there is likely no one who does not know those three syllables of his name, Ulrich. The reason there are no records of him is exactly that—there simply aren't any, not because people lack interest.”
“Is that so?”
“If there were a lord who lived for 300 years, it would be strange for him not to receive attention. Furthermore, this place was undergoing a civil war until a few years ago.”
It was said to be a civil war that lasted for a staggering thirty-two years.
The starting point was an accident where the Crown Prince died of a plague, and after brothers and sisters quarreled and killed each other, it became a great war involving all the people of Osnober.
Because they fought over the throne rather than for small profits, there was no mercy for competitors; it was a time when ten severed heads were worth less than a single coin.
This chaos seemed to reach a conclusion with the victory of some fool who had received support from mercenaries from a neighboring country. This was because the country, which had collapsed under its own weight, had fallen to a level where it could be snatched up and conquered by a fool who did not even realize the fact that he was a puppet.
However, that fool invaded Ditmarschen.
No one knew the reason why he targeted such a barren land. It was so abrupt that there were even comments like, "Was it not because he was annoyed by the sight of someone watching loftily and alone while others were shedding blood?"
And the result, of course, went without saying.
“That fool lost. As for how he lost, no one knows, much like the life of that lord. What is certain is that the fool’s head was sent to the old royal capital, and the head of the Count who was manipulating the fellow was also sent to his master.”
“And then?”
“And then the wicked neighbor withdrew its hand, and we realized the fact that we had failed to recognize a ferocious beast.”
If a fox riding the back of a wolf had ruled the animal kingdom only to be bitten to death by a lion, how would the weak animals accept this? Naturally, would they not try to make the lion their king?
It was a world where families that once prided themselves on their history had been completely wiped out during the civil war, leaving only greenhorns whose history was shorter than the reign of that one man, Ulrich. They fashioned a crown to replace the lost one and offered it to him.
To this, Ulrich chose one person from the clan of his late wife and placed the crown on them before sending them back. That was an event from four years ago.
“My, he is an old man with no greed.”
Desire to devour even a millet-sized profit if given the chance is the basic qualification of a nobleman, yet he refused the throne that any noble would long for?
“Old man? Well, anyway… he is a refined person.”
The actions he showed afterward were also peculiar.
After sending out the new king in his stead, the only thing he did was arrange a marriage between the Hilderson clan and the families of the greenhorn nobles.
Because of that, relative relationships were formed among the nobles, and the internal strife was calmed in an instant, but it was said that the party who actually led that task did not show his face. He did not attend the wedding ceremony, nor did he leave his territory when the coronation ceremony was held.
“I wondered if perhaps he was exerting influence from behind the scenes, but it was not even that. It was a transcendental act, as if he had no interest in the secular world, as if he simply did not want to step outside of his own garden.”
“Could there not be some other intention that we do not know about?”
Roberta could not easily believe those words.
The Pope’s priest had died. Even if there was no certainty that the Lord had killed him, there must have been some sort of incident that reached such a situation, and her thought was that a transcendental person would have no reason to be entangled in such an incident.
“I also once belonged to the Great Temple like you, Sister, and back then, I saw many mixed-bloods. The oldest among them was a Duke of some country, and it was said that because he had the blood of a dwarf mixed in, he lived for three hundred and twenty years.”
The Duke—it was said that he was so aged that his physical body was like a mummy. He could not even walk and lay there without even the strength to lift a single arm; to anyone’s eyes, it was clear that death was hovering nearby. Even so, until the moment his breath ceased, he did not try to share what he possessed in the slightest, not even with his own flesh and blood.
“Greed—the ancient saints said that it is human nature,” the old priest continued. “Even if the years make one's character dull, greed is instead forged until it is sharp. I realized that fact while watching the mixed-bloods.”
“······.”
“But he was different. He seemed like a person without desire.”
“Like a monk?”
“He is different from a monk. A monk is a person who forgets or suppresses desire, so they cannot eliminate desire itself. Because of that, they sometimes succumb to evil gods, and they even go as far as gouging out their brains to prevent it. On the other hand, Ulrich—it was as if his desires had become nothing but burnt-out ashes.”
The old priest pondered for a moment before finally continuing his words.
“I do not know how that can be. I knew he was a strange person, but perhaps he has lived even longer than the records say, and the passage of time has made even his greed go dull.”
Roberta thought that was impossible.
“Could you tell me a little more?”
As seen in the story of the Duke, even for a mixed-blood, the lifespan has a limit of several hundred years. Just like the statement that he became a mummy after living for 300 years, even for a mixed-blood, continuing life beyond that point would merely be a state of barely clinging to life. She viewed the Lord of Ditmarschen to be the same.