My ears grew hot from the incessant scolding, and after what felt like an eternity of nagging, my master finally bid farewell as the sun began to set.
Xenon, who had been quietly gazing down at the now-silent communication device, clicked his tongue and looked around for no particular reason.
The place where he stood was the cliff behind Veladia Castle. Once desolate, it had now acquired a rather dreamlike landscape thanks to the flower beds Xenon had skillfully created.
Perhaps because it was the place where Anelli had disappeared, Xenon was taking special care of this spot.
‘She might return here….’
While tending to the castle, he often imagined it. Reuniting with Anelli, who would one day appear out of nowhere upon this flower bed he had cultivated. Her returning as if nothing had happened, calmly appraising the items he had brought for her, and naturally instructing him to prepare a meal.
It was something that had not yet come to pass.
But because it *could* come to pass, he had searched the world for every flower said to be precious and planted them on this cliff.
“I wish she would come when the flowers bloom.”
「It won’t take long.」
He should have asked exactly how many days that meant.
If he knew how many nights he must sleep before meeting her, he could have welcomed each lonely, fading day with joy.
The only certainty, however, was that today, too, had passed without any news.
* * *
“Is this truly your will, Sir?”
To Morico, who asked in a gloomy voice, Samuel nodded with an impassive face.
“The duties I have undertaken until now are beyond me. Therefore, I intend to do what I am capable of in my present state.”
“Would it not be better to remain at the Grand Temple and nurture future disciples? I shall speak to His Eminence the High Priest myself.”
“No. I…”
Samuel’s face darkened slightly. After hesitating and falling silent for a moment, he regained his usual composure and spoke.
“I shall depart on a pilgrimage, as I have resolved.”
Though he arbitrarily called it a pilgrimage, it was, in truth, a somewhat insufficient term.
Samuel had decided to gather records concerning prophets forsaken by the god and to travel to closed temples and monasteries to clear their names.
He had once retrieved documents from Febrin Monastery, but they were never fully disclosed; on the contrary, some within the Temple argued they should be concealed entirely.
In such an atmosphere, it was only natural that Samuel found little support when he stepped forward to correct these erroneous records.
“It will be a difficult journey.”
“It is what I must do.”
“But Sir Samuel, you are now…”
Morico, with a devastated expression, could not bring himself to continue. Yet Samuel understood what he meant to say.
He likely intended to speak of Samuel having ‘absolutely no’ divine power. And on top of that, his condition of being one-armed.
“Priest Morico, this… is the final mission given to me.”
A holy knight who had embarked on an unofficial pilgrimage with the Resurrected One had not only lost all his divine power but also appeared missing an arm.
The Temple was thrown into an uproar, and Samuel was summoned to the High Priest immediately after receiving treatment.
To lose one’s divine power—how could such a dreadful thing happen!
Ironically, Samuel’s tattered state perfectly lent credibility to the oracle they had received.
《As evil runs rampant, I bestow upon you the Resurrected One; stand firm against it.》
Ah, Sir Samuel confronted evil, lost an arm, and had his divine power stripped away!
The young holy knight’s tragedy must be duly honored!
To the priests who were excitedly clamoring thus, Samuel quietly conveyed his own intention. His resolve to trace and preserve the correct historical records concerning the prophets.
The priests, who had been venerating Samuel as if he were a hero returned from a holy war, abruptly changed their attitude.
And so now, Samuel was leaving the Temple in a wretched state, receiving only Morico’s farewell.
「You sought forgiveness from the wrong party from the very beginning.」
He recalled Anelli’s voice, filled with contempt. He also remembered her attack, aimed at his arm without a moment’s hesitation.
That she injured his sword arm yet did not take his life was surely her form of vengeance against him.
Just as she declared she would not acknowledge his contribution to her rest, stripping him of all his divine power held the same meaning.
「Regret the opportunity you turned away from and spend your life in apology.」
He did not know if this pilgrimage would constitute an apology, but he had resolved to at least restore the honor lost by the Captain and the knights who followed her.
He intended to devote the rest of his life solely to that task. After all, with this body, he could no longer be the High Priest’s proud holy knight or anything of the sort.
“If you need anything, please contact me anytime. I support your will.”
“Thank you, Priest Morico.”
“But, Sir Samuel.”
Morico, hesitating, asked in a low voice.
“Do you truly not know the whereabouts of the Resurrected One?”
Samuel had not divulged any information regarding the Resurrected One.
That was likely part of the reason why he, once hailed as the pride of the Temple, was being treated so shabbily.
The pilgrimage with the Resurrected One that everyone was curious about. His attitude of saying not a single word about what transpired.
“Nothing can compel that person. She will be where she wishes, in the form she desires.”
“I see.”
Morico, who had asked one last question just in case, nodded without showing disappointment.
Samuel lowered his gaze.
He could no longer sense where Anelli was. He did not even know if she existed upon this land.
Perhaps she would never appear before him again in his lifetime.
If he were to forcibly seek out Veladia Castle, then perhaps… but that was another matter.
Samuel had now decided against doing so.
“That is how it should have been from the start.”
Muttering in a bitter voice, he bowed to Morico and turned away.
The cloak that completely covered one arm fluttered emptily, conspicuously so.
* * *
The forest, thick with deep green foliage, was originally a place seldom frequented by people.
However, after it was revealed that the Resurrected One had passed through here, pilgrims would often wander about abruptly, claiming to follow in her footsteps.
They rummaged through the entire forest, unaware of what lay deep within.
“It was right here that the Resurrected One saved us from the wicked Dullahan.”
“Wow!”
The man leading the way was clad in shabby armor.
Once, he was a man who had lived prosperously as a soldier for a renowned family.
But when the family fell, the soldiers naturally scattered, and he too, having lost his position, drifted here.
Fortunately, he was adept at calculating profit and quickly singled out a few experiences from his past that could be monetized.
His connection to the Resurrected One was the foremost among these money-making ventures.
“As you know, I served the Resurrected One. How moved I was when I reunited with her here!”
Exaggeratingly shrugging his shoulders, the man looked back at the pilgrims. Among the huddled group, his gaze suddenly caught on a figure with a deeply drawn hood.
‘Huh? Was that person there before?’
Just as the man, feeling puzzled, tried to get a better look, one of the pilgrims exclaimed loudly in admiration.
“How remarkable!”
“Haha, it’s embarrassing, but a proud memory.”
The man set aside his momentary curiosity and quickly replied.
Although the Resurrected One did not show herself, the fantastical tales of her deeds spread by word of mouth and were strangely inflated.
Thanks to this, the empire’s people greatly yearned for the Resurrected One and held her sacred.
The man, who had seen her up close, inwardly laughed at these citizens while diligently emptying their pockets.
“Right here! This is where the Resurrected One was abducted by the Dullahan! I still remember it!”
Though he didn’t remember precisely, the man pointed to a random spot and attached a plausible story.
He had been a soldier of Roam and was once part of the pursuit squad searching for Anelli.
And this was the very place where they had almost captured Anelli, only to let her slip away—a most regrettable location.
Since it was in the past, who would know no matter how he embellished it? The man freely added details and distorted the memory of that time.
Claiming to have served the Resurrected One, he volunteered as a guide, recited a suitably pleasing narrative, and the pilgrims willingly paid.
What a convenient way to make money!
“Now, let us move on…”
The man turned to lead the pilgrims onward.
At that moment, he saw something pitch-black among the bushes. The man halted, fixing his gaze.
“Huh? What is that?”
Whether the pilgrims also saw what he had discovered, they murmured and craned their necks.
As the man squinted, staring at it, someone accidentally bumped his back. *Thump.* Thanks to that, the man stumbled forward.
A few steps closer, and the shape became clearly visible.
“……Th-that is…”
The color gradually drained from the man’s face.
Just as a few brave souls among the pilgrims, who hadn’t yet grasped the situation, were about to courageously approach, the man began to falteringly step backward.
“……Run.”
“Huh?”
“R-run away.”
“What are you suddenly saying?”
The man glared fiercely at the bewildered pilgrim and swiftly turned his body.
“I said run, you fool!”
The moment his eyes met the pitch-black steed, he remembered the Monster he had seen only once. Black armor. An abnormally massive frame.
The terrifying Monster that had haunted his nightmares for a long time.
“It’s a Dullahan! A Dullahan has appeared!”
Seeing the man leading the way and hastily turning tail while shouting, the other pilgrims panicked and belatedly turned to flee.
“Kyaaak!”
“Aaaah! Help!”
Even though the black shadow did not stir, the people trembled and ran.
The silent forest echoed with people’s screams, and the sounds of their frantic running footsteps tangled together.
The noise grew gradually distant, eventually becoming faintly small, and finally disappeared completely.
Once everyone was gone, the figure that had been hidden in the gap was revealed.
It was the figure with the deeply drawn hood.
He stepped forward through the trampled grass. Striding boldly toward the black shadow that everyone had fled from in terror, he came to a stop right before it.
He stretched out a hand from within his cloak. Then, the shadow hiding in the dark shade took a step forward.
The shadow the fleeing man had called a Dullahan was merely a somewhat large black horse.
The lightly snorting horse meekly lowered its head under that hand. White fingers gently stroked the black mane.
“Hello, Nadav.”
A gentle voice flowed from within the hood.
“We meet again.”