***
Roberta recoiled and pulled her hand away, then looked at the fingers that had felt the Lord’s wounds. Not a single drop of blood was on them, even though the sensation of probing the flesh was chillingly vivid.
The wounds healed immediately as soon as her fingers were pulled away. They didn't even leave a trace that they had existed. If it weren't for the holes the dagger had made in his clothes and the blood the monster had sprayed, no one would have felt anything was strange.
She felt surprised and confused at the same time.
‘How can it be like this?’
It was an injury where immediate death was natural. His neck had been bitten, leaving a hole large enough for a fist to enter, and his side had been stabbed and twisted all the way to his lungs; it was a wound where he would die without even having the leisure to consider treatment.
However, Ulrih lived, and the wounds healed in an instant.
Was there a case where wounds healed this quickly?
Roberta thought of Alonso. A master of healing magic who ranked among the top in the Pantheon could do that. However, even he could not make shed blood return or heal without a single scar. Because Alonso’s healing magic was closer to accelerating the natural recovery of the human body.
On the other hand, Ulrih felt like he was returning to a time when the wounds did not exist. As if he were turning back time or as if his existence were fixed at a certain point.
“Hu, huu.”
She turned her gaze at the sound of heavy breathing.
The old man named Rasid was lying next to the body of the monster that had once been his son’s body, looking up at the Lord. The old man with gray hair was constantly bleeding from the wound cut by the blade, soaking the office floor.
Ulrih approached him and knelt on one knee.
“Do you still believe that thing is your son?”
Rasid looked up at the ceiling with half-open eyes and let out a long sigh. He, who had harbored an obsession strong enough to attack the Lord, now finally let go of it and changed into the appearance of a frail old man facing his deathbed.
“My son... is he dead.”
“Yes, a long time ago.”
“Then what is that?”
“A bug. Like a parasite, living inside a host.”
A bug—Rasid chewed on those words and then said.
“It is difficult to understand. How can a bug be a person......”
“You must know of Ioannina’s Doll. It is the same as that.”
Ioannina’s Doll—it was an old paradox.
During the era of the second human empire, there was a wizard. Her name was Ioannina, and it was said she saved her country by commanding a doll made of steel.
When she died, the citizens were said to have displayed the doll, which she had left behind but no one could handle, in the square. However, since the doll was made of steel, it corroded as time passed, and every time, they had to remove the corroded part and attach a newly made part.
The citizens used to brag to outsiders whenever they passed the square that they possessed the old item intact, but one day, an outsider heard that story and asked.
- Ioannina’s Doll is from more than a hundred years ago. During that time, how many times have you replaced the doll’s parts? All the things that make up the doll have been replaced with new ones, so not a single part that was touched by the wizard of old remains. Can you still call this her doll?
As if he knew that story, Rasid let out a short sigh.
“Was my son replaced?”
“To be precise, the body was replaced.”
Ulrih picked up one of the monster’s stems from the floor.
“You said it. You fed your son the medicine after his breath stopped, and he didn't wake up immediately after you fed him. Why didn't he wake up immediately? It was because time was needed for this to grow, take root, and control the body. Your son never came back to life. The bug that used the body as a host merely used the remaining memories to use you.”
“I... have been thinking wrong all my life.”
Rasid spoke while breathing with difficulty.
“I believed my son had come back to life, but from the beginning, he wasn't my son. It wasn't just that something went wrong and went astray, but because from the start he wasn't my son......”
“……”
“I couldn't let my son die twice. I couldn't bring that child back to life with my greed and let him die again... I couldn't. So I committed the act I did to you several times.”
“I have committed a sin. But my son—if a monster only wore his shell, my son would have no sin, right......?”
“If it wasn't your son, then it wasn't your son’s sin either.”
“If so... did the child go to heaven? Like his mother?”
There was no answer.
Roberta recalled what Ulrih had said on the day she first met him. That if he were going to tell a lie, he would rather not answer, he had said.
“Please tell me.”
Strength went tightly into the hand grabbing Ulrih’s arm as it trembled.
“Heaven does not exist. Death is an end in itself.”
“The end... an end?”
“There is nothing after death.”
“But the soul? Do souls not reincarnate?”
“That is also different from what you believe.”
“......It is hard to believe.”
The trembling spread throughout his whole body. Since he was struggling to hear what he wanted to hear while pushing back the death that had arrived before his eyes, Ulrih removed the old man’s hand and placed his hand on his forehead. Only then did the trembling subside.
“If there is no god, no heaven, and no soul, then what is this world?”
“It is a harsh world. In this world where the masters of the heavens have left and the order they created runs rampant, it is inevitable that you are deceived by the illusion of eternity.”
Ulrih said in a low voice.
“But do not worry. The death your son experienced was only once. The sins that occurred after death were not your son’s, and he suffered no pain.”
“I see, then.”
Rasid felt relieved and released the strength in his hand. His breathing subsided.
“I should have listened.”
His eyes lost their light, and his mouth began to dry while open. The death he had postponed and postponed finally caught the old man. Ulrih closed his eyes for him. And a long silence followed in the office.
Roberta stood vacantly. Although a commotion had occurred, the hallway was quiet. Whether they couldn't hear the sound or heard it and ignored it, no one came. She looked at Ulrih, wondering what to do now.
“Roberta.”
“Yes, Lord.”
Ulrih spoke while slowly rising.
“If you have something you want to ask, ask now. It is not a pleasant story to talk about later, so I would like to finish it now if possible.”
Something she wanted to ask? There were mountains of them. If anything, they were increasing, not decreasing, the doubts entangled with the Lord. How he noticed the boy’s identity, how he recovered from the wounds, and so on—there were many, but the greatest among them was the mention of heaven and the soul.
According to the scriptures, heaven is the place where the gods left, and hell is the place where the evil gods were driven out. Also, they say that when a person dies, they are distinguished into good souls and evil souls and go to heaven and hell.
Ulrih denied that. He asserted that heaven does not exist, even if he didn't know about souls. It was a heavier matter than performing the Sacrament of Infancy as he pleased.
However, she pondered and then shook her head.
“No. It is alright.”
“You must have more than one or two things you are curious about.”
“That is true. But... I don't think I should know right now.”
He raised his head, and the two of them locked eyes. No matter how many times she looked at him, his appearance was that of someone her age, yet she increasingly felt the years from that face.
That was the reason she didn't ask.
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And if she asked as if putting her hand in the hole, he would answer according to the truth. The problem was what came after. The problem remained whether she could accept it. How could she know what kind of answer would come out? If he confessed a fact that would uproot her common sense in this place, what would she do?
She had decided to postpone it for a while.
At least not yet, she thought; even if she had to make a decision someday, now was not the time when she didn't know him, and she suppressed her desire and duty.
“You really do resemble him.”
Ulrih gave a thin smile as he looked at her.
“I said it before, that you resemble Alonso. That child was the same. Even though he had so much curiosity, he was cautious about asking me. Saying it felt like putting his hand in a snake hole.”
She was startled.
“Thinking about it, everyone who stayed by my side for a long time was like that. Hilde also only asked at the very end. Even though it is nothing to me... you were always cautious about asking.”
Ulrih lightly rang the bell on the desk. At that, the sound of purposeful footsteps was heard from the end of the hallway as if they had been waiting. Roberta was certain it was the sound of the butler, Bernhard, coming.
“Roberta, do you know how many priests were between your predecessor and Alonso? If you do not know, check. I think you might be able to stay for a long time.”
#
The incident passed quietly.
The incident where the Lord was attacked by a guest in his office was not talked about much, even though the office had become a sea of blood. If such an incident had happened in the Nuua High Temple, even the serfs would have been making a fuss gossiping about it, but Dithmarschen was quiet.
It didn't mean that people’s mouths were shut well. Roberta saw the servants exchanging stories of that day among themselves. However, the reaction was lackluster.
“I heard the Lord was attacked.”
“Ah, I see.”
What kind of place is this?
That was the weight of the incident for the people of Dithmarschen. She felt awkward, thinking she had made a fuss alone worrying that it would be noisy for a while.
‘Does she resemble the Lord?’
Why were they so calm? Was it because they encountered all sorts of monstrosities since they were close to the Ice Peninsula where the flow of mana was fierce? Or was it because the Lord’s existence itself was a monstrosity? She thought both were correct, but the Lord was heavier.
Because he was a truly strange person.
“······.”
And in the spring of the following year, Alonso’s letter arrived.
The letter, which began with greetings, was filled with reminiscences of the time he was assigned to Dithmarschen until the middle of the contents. It was a preamble without substance that made even her, who was reading the letter gladly, make a indifferent expression.
.
.
.
......I read the letter sent by Lord Ulrih. He praised you. You did well. Roberta, it is a sorry thing to say to you, but I hope you will stay by his side for a very long time. If he likes you, he will keep that position while you are there.
I will not answer the questions you sent. The predecessor, Clemens, knew too much. I hope you do not meet the same end as him.
We sometimes forget the enlightenment that the process gives because we are preoccupied with the answer. What do you think is the reason thirteen priests passed between me and you? It is because twelve of them could not find or acknowledge the answer, and only one, Clemens, knew and acknowledged the answer, but that was because His Holiness taught him the answer. And because of that, he went blind.
Keep in mind that the reason you are in that position is because of that result.
It must be the time when your nose is held high, thinking you know enough while gradually adjusting to life there. However, what you know is very, an extremely small fraction. Even more so than closing your eyes and feeling an elephant.
Therefore, do not surreptitiously peek at the answer. Do not try to see him through the answer, but I hope you will come to realize what kind of person he is in the process of finding the answer.
You will be able to do it because you resemble me more than your mother. Also, I hope you will send letters often. Lord Ulrih is sending letters more often than you.
In the autumn of Nuua, Alonso.