Chapter 303 Meeting with the Inquisitor
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After Betty’s tail—yes, that blessed, wiggly miracle—had somehow revived my spirit, I went into the meeting more optimistic than I had any right to be.
”First, allow me to apologize for our rather… abrupt greeting last time,” I began smoothly, palms on the table. “And I’m grateful for this second chance to meet properly.”
Espera-san inclined her head. “Since we are to be neighbors henceforth, let us not dwell on trifles.” Her tone was crisp, the kind of polite that came with invisible rules.
”Neighbors, huh?” I quirked a smile. “Seems a bit far for that term, don’t you think?”
A faint smile curved her lips. “Admittedly so.”
I bit back the urge to point out that the Theocracy itself had insisted on that distance. Instead, my gaze flicked to the person beside her—a motion she mirrored almost at once.
There sat one of the Theocracy priests who’d come with her to the frontier. Among the faceless, hooded clergy, she was the one no one could possibly forget. Her robes strained under… well, gravity-defying architecture. Let’s just say she could blot out the sun if she leaned forward.
”Don’t just freeze there,” Espera murmured. “Introduce yourself.”
”Eep! Y-yes! I-I’m, um, I mean—ahhh!” The poor girl’s words tripped over themselves as her shoulders twitched, setting off another chain reaction that was… difficult not to notice.
Espera sighed. “Compose yourself. You’re in Lord Neil’s presence.”
”Th-that’s exactly why I’m nervous!” she squeaked.
Before the girl could combust from stress, Espera stepped in. “This is Lady Reinele, a high priestess of the Pentis faith.”
Ah. That explained the aura—and the posture of someone used to reverence, not conversation. The Theocracy’s clergy were ranked in four tiers: lower, middle, high, and sacred. Technically, an Inquisitor like Espera ranked as middle clergy, meaning Reinele here actually outranked her.
Reinele bowed, nearly knocking something over in the process.
”We’re here today,” Espera continued, “to designate an official point of contact.”
”A contact point?” I asked.
”Yes. As you may know, the identities of those who can wield healing magic are strictly confidential. Even within our own ranks, few are aware. Thus, to prevent… accidental contact, we wish to clarify proper channels for communication.”
Ah. ‘If you approach anyone else, we’ll consider it an offense.’ Got it.
Once that message was delivered, Espera fell silent, and poor Reinele fidgeted in the growing quiet. Not wanting the meeting to end on that suffocating note, I reached for a neutral topic.
”So, the clinic’s already been running while you finish the interior work, right? Busy so far?”
Espera nodded. “Initially, yes. We were overwhelmed. But we’ve stabilized—three staff can handle the current flow.”
”Guess there were more untreated patients than we realized. That’s a relief.”
Until recently, healing had been limited to whoever Spear of Shouhyou arranged. But disease doesn’t always bow to magic; for serious illnesses, people had to travel all the way to Denarl. No wonder they flocked here once word spread.
”My apologies if our side caused any inconvenience,” I offered.
”Not at all,” Espera said evenly. “The clinic’s setup required funds—we’re grateful for the cooperation.”
”E-Espera-san!” Reinele hissed. “That’s… not something we should—”
”Why not?” Espera replied coolly. “We provide healing and receive fair compensation. There’s no shame in that.”
”B-but still…!”
Yep. Just as I thought—Espera doesn’t do euphemisms. A woman of brutal honesty, through and through. Admirable, really, though I could see why Reinele was sweating bullets. Some folks recoil at the idea of clergy making money, even when it keeps their temples running.
”A sermon alone cannot feed the hungry,” Espera said firmly. “Nor can piety warm the cold. To aid the suffering, one must have resources.”
…Wow. Straight shooter, this one. Maybe too straight for an Inquisitor, but if the Theocracy’s creed is the salvation of mankind, then she’s simply embodying it.
After all, you can’t save the poor without funding. The Theocracy barely taxes its citizens, offering free healing to all believers. That money has to come from somewhere—hence their priests working abroad.
”In that case,” Espera continued, “there’s something I wish to ask. We’ve heard that the frontier covers part of its workers’ treatment costs. May I ask why?”
I hesitated. “That’s… awkward to admit, but the fees you set were rather steep. I worried some people might avoid treatment because of it.”
The air grew taut again—two faiths, two realities, sharing a table but not quite the same world.
The priests sent here charge more than the local town doctors. That’s standard when they serve as medical officers, not missionaries. But when dispatched as religious envoys, their rates drop dramatically—it’s considered part of their missionary duty. In that case, seeing a priest costs far less than any town doctor.
Naturally, patients prefer the cheaper option. But rulers dread what comes with it—the spread of Theocracy doctrine across their lands. The Empire prides itself on neutrality toward ihomono. Many refugees came here precisely because this land doesn’t brand them as different. The Theocracy’s rejection of ihomono makes its teachings hard to swallow here.
This time, though, the quoted fees were triple the missionary rate. I couldn’t stomach making settlers pay that difference. So the frontier settlement shoulders it instead—but only for those who fall ill or are injured after joining our workforce. Otherwise, freeloaders would flood the place just for cheap care.
”I just don’t want anyone too poor to afford healing,” I explained. “If they delay treatment because of money, they might never recover.”
”And this concern,” Espera asked coolly, “is it for them—or for yourself?”
”For the people working here,” I admitted. “Though… I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t also for us. Without workers, we can’t survive either.”
”…I see.”
Her voice dropped into silence again—not the cold stillness from before, but a pensive pause. I could see her thinking, lips barely parted, eyes tracing unseen thoughts.
Then—KNOCK KNOCK. A sharp rap at the door broke the stillness.
I’d ordered no interruptions unless it was urgent. So this had to be urgent.
Diana caught my eye and stepped out to investigate. Moments later, she returned, composed but brisk. “My apologies, Lord Neil. I made it clear no one was to disturb you unless it was critical. It seems… something has happened.”
Espera rose smoothly. “Then we shall take our leave.”
”Eh?” I blurted. “Already?”
”Our intent today was only to extend greetings. We can continue this another day.”
”…Understood.”
The unspoken weight of that ‘another day’ lingered as she stood. I wanted to ask what she’d been about to say—but priorities had shifted. Diana’s expression told me something pressing awaited.
”Diana,” I said, “please see them out.”
”At once.”
She bowed, but as she passed, she leaned close and whispered, “Viscount Pelant’s envoy has arrived. They request an immediate audience.”
”What?” I hissed, keeping my voice low.
Not good. Really not good.
Espera and Reinele followed Diana toward the exit as I stayed behind, dread prickling. Another visit from Pelant’s side could only mean trouble.
* * *
The Theocracy duo followed Diana through the hall.
”Haah… I thought my heart might stop…” Reinele exhaled weakly.
”Reinele, we’re still inside the Empire noble’s home,” Espera reminded her softly but firmly. Her eyes flicked across the corridor, alert. Whether scanning for threats or simply gathering intel, her gaze never rested long.
They reached the entrance. Reinele sighed in relief, shoulders slumping—finally, the clinic awaited.
Then—RUSH, FOOTSTEPS thudded down the staircase.
”Dia-sis! It’s about Tris, somethin’—!”
Diana stiffened instantly. Of all times, Bearty had chosen now to burst in—ears twitching, tail flicking. Her voice froze mid-sentence as she noticed the two robed figures. Espera’s eyes, cold and assessing, turned to her.
”You are…”
The Inquisitor’s gaze swept over Bearty from head to toe—eyes, ears, tail, every small movement. The air thickened. Her eyes narrowed, knife-sharp, until they locked onto Bearty’s left arm and stopped.
”E-Espera-san?” Reinele whispered nervously.
”…It’s nothing,” Espera said at last. “Let’s go.”
”Y-yes!” Reinele squeaked.
Espera turned back toward the door. “Until next time, everyone.”
They left without another word. Only when the sound of the door closing echoed through the hall did the tension snap.
”My heart nearly stopped,” Diana muttered.
”I-I’m sorry!” Bearty’s ears drooped low. “Ah didn’t mean ta—”
”…Never mind. Just be more careful next time,” Diana sighed.
She couldn’t stay angry, not with that pitiful tail sagging so low. With a resigned shake of her head, she sent Bearty back upstairs.
(What a mess,) she thought. (That look Espera gave her… it wasn’t random.)
Lycus’s distinctive gray hair was concealed by Estesia’s magic, but Espera’s sharp eyes had examined her far too closely. If she truly suspected anything, she’d have acted—but she hadn’t. Not yet.
(If she let us go without incident, maybe she hasn’t realized… but then, what was that look?)
Pushing the unease aside, Diana straightened her posture. There were bigger fires waiting—the envoy of Viscount Pelant among them.
Notes:
• Espera – An Inquisitor (middle clergy rank) of the Pentis faith from the Theocracy, serving as the official point of contact. She is characterized by her crisp tone and brutal honesty, defending the necessity of charging high fees (“fair compensation”) to maintain their resources and aid the suffering. She possesses a cool, assessing gaze and is highly perceptive, noticing Bearty and closely examining her distinctive features before choosing to leave without incident.
• Reinele – A High Priestess (higher clergy rank than Espera) of the Pentis faith. She is highly nervous, timid, and fidgety, nearly knocking something over in her stress in Lord Neil’s presence. She is visually distinct among the clergy as her robes strain under “gravity-defying architecture,” suggesting a very large figure. She is uncomfortable with Espera’s open discussion of money and compensation for healing services.
• Denarl – Known as the ‘City of Craftsmen.’ Now, just an ordinary city.
• Tris – Golarf’s daughter. The one who can’t control her azure origin.
• Bearty – Gray-haired Lycus girl from a remote settlement, ran away from overprotective family, appears after collapsing from exhaustion, becomes the girl Neil protects and mentors.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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