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“Say that again, Elroy.”

His clenched fists were shaking. I lifted my head and stared into his face. It is the same place as when I first entered the world, and the conversation was also eerily similar.

“I’m doing this alone. It has nothing to do with the Disaster, and it’s something the Queen has asked me to do personally. The full party moving would only add to people’s anxiety.”

“That’s not enough reason. Why do you insist on going alone when we can all easily leave without anyone knowing?”

Georg slammed his fist down on the desk, demanding. If he had done that when I first arrived, I don’t know if I could’ve kept my cool.

“It’s a lot easier to deal with if I act alone. Going after Arjen is not the same as going after a Disaster.”

“You don’t know that, Elroy. Do you think I don’t know why you’re stopping me?”

His left hand landed on the desk. I looked up at Georg blankly, anger blazing in his eyes.

“You don’t want us to join because it’s dangerous, because he is a skilled swordsman who can wipe even the Inquisition.

That’s true. But I did confirm nor deny.

“Either you see us as fools and idiots or as burdens to be protected. Just when I thought you were beginning to trust us, you betrayed us in another way.”

“Don’t cross the line, Georg.”

At times like this, I just had to be strong. I deliberately raised my mana a bit and interrupted Georg. I pushed him back as he pressed in on me.

“Since when did you become a petulant child? Look at the situation and think.”

With a bang, I slammed my hand down on the desk. Softly, I could hear Georg grinding his teeth. He also raised his mana, but it was nothing compared to mine.

“Very well. That’s how it’s going to be. You’re right; I won’t be accompanying you this time.”

Georg turned on his heel. The flames in his eyes seemed to have subsided and turned to ash. I watched his heavy steps. He wasn’t blaming me but himself.

“If you die, don’t expect to see my face at your funeral.”

The door slammed shut. I sighed, relaxing. The room was silent when Georg left. There was a small indent on where he banged his fist. I’d never seen him so emotional before, but he must have had a lot on his mind.

“…I don’t know what to say.”

I heard Daphne sigh. She had been watching us the entire time. A look of indescribable sadness washed over her face.

“I can understand why Georg would do that and why Elroy would say that.”

“I can’t help it if you become disillusioned with me, for this is the Queen’s personal request. I should travel quietly than to advertise that we’re all suddenly missing.”

Daphne pursed her lips.

“…But are you sure you don’t want to take me with you? I think I would be helpful. No one can touch me anymore.”

“Yeah. But this isn’t a matter of needing help.”

Daphne looked more puzzled than saddened by my stubborn refusal, meaning she was more confident in her abilities. But it would be odd for a Seventh Circle wizard to be unconfident.

“You know we worry about you…”

“I do, but I still have to go alone.”

Daphne sighed heavily again. A trace of anxiety flickered across her face.

“This isn’t the same situation as the Mist. I’m not acting on emotion, and it’s something I can do alone.”

“At least you aren’t sneaking off…”

Daphne was the first to rise from her seat, looking at me questioningly.

“I trust you as much as you trusted us during the Meteor.”

It was simple to say but difficult to believe. I smiled bitterly at Daphne. She forcefully raised the corners of her mouth. Trust and faith. Trust is firm but not deep. Faith was much deeper.

“Marianne must be distraught, and if you happen to stop by the Holy Land, please say something to her.”

“She’ll be busy. They’re on full alert.”

Maybe it’s a good thing she’s busy. If Marianne wanted to go with me to find Bishop Andrei, I wouldn’t have any reason to stop her.

“I’ll be leaving later today, and I’m sure Isila can fill me in on the details. How’s she doing?”

“Stabilized. It’s a little sad to see her so calm.”

Daphne glanced out the door. Her pink hair was blowing in the breeze from the hallway. A pale pink that resembled a cherry blossom or maybe a lotus. I squinted as I took in the sight of her hair, darkening toward the tips like petals.

“…Hey, Elroy.”

Suddenly, Daphne called out to me. I snapped out of my daze and blinked. She was now standing behind my chair. The scent of a flower I didn’t recognize tickled my nostrils. Daphne didn’t say anything, just hugging me from behind.

“Don’t go too far.”

I nodded, holding onto her arm. Daphne held me like that for a while, then blushed and walked to the entrance. I smiled awkwardly and waved, and Daphne smiled back, closing the door behind her.

I let out a long sigh and sank deeper into my chair. The voice of the Holy Sword, who must have been watching me the whole time, came to my ears.

(Why do you not want them to accompany you, Elroy?)

The Holy Sword’s question was more of an innocent inquiry than an attempt to chastise me.

From the reports I’ve heard, no one knows how dangerous Arjen is. He could be on the level of a Disaster. I suspected he was even stronger. I rummaged through my notes, the last vestiges of my knowledge as a transmigrator. The records I had kept back then were no help now.

“The Arjen of today would be a very dangerous opponent. While I don’t know how he became what he is, I’m probably the only person on the continent who can defeat him one-on-one.”

I’d say Archduke Quenor or Agnes were about equal, the Northern Archduke having a slight edge. However, his chances Arjen would be one victory every twenty…And that’s based on when I last met him.

(Was that really your reason?)

I didn’t answer. Of course, it wasn’t just that Arjen was dangerous; an instinct, separate from that rational, logical judgment, warned me not to take others on this chase. Perhaps it’s a judgment that comes from the guilt of being a transmigrator.

(So what do you want to do with him?)

The holy sword broke the silence. I snapped to attention and closed my notes.

“I’ll take him alive if I can.”

‘What if I can’t catch him? What if I’m ‘forced’ to kill him?’ I pushed the question out of my head and pushed myself up from my seat.

“If I can’t catch him….”

I didn’t want to think about what happened next. I left the office and walked toward the room where Isila was waiting. Against my better judgment, I cautiously opened the door. Isila stood in the doorway, dressed in her bloodied priestly robes, and greeted me. Her movements were uncharacteristic of someone who almost died not too long ago.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Hero.”

“Lead the way.”

Isila wasted no time. I frowned slightly as I watched her approach the window sill instead of the door. She looked at me as if to ask what was wrong, and I shook my head, not bothering to correct her. There was no time to spend trying to convince her right now.

“Follow me.”

Isila looked at me distantly, then jumped out the window, landing skillfully on the roof as if it were natural.

(Are all Inquisitors like that, Elroy?)

“…Marianne does strange things like that sometimes.”

I sighed and put my foot on the window sill, but the feeling of immorality became an awl and stabbed at my conscience.

(Good thing you’ve practiced this before.)

I wanted to complain, but I just silently jumped out the window. I was much stronger than most people, even without mana or aura. Isila’s eyes widened in surprise as she watched me land cleanly.

“How…”

“Come on. Was it nearby? Considering you could get here in that state, I’m guessing it was closer than I thought.”

Isila coughed and tried to compose herself.

“Yes. They probably don’t have a permanent base and are constantly on the move.”

“It’s a perfect strategy for a cult. Wherever they go becomes their church.”

“That’s why it’s harder to track them. If it weren’t for the attack on the Magic Tower, we’d never find them.”

We skipped lightly across the rooftops until we reached the gates.

“…When we finally tracked their core members and cornered their leader…”

Isola said, stopping in place. Isola’s eyes trembled as she spoke.

“The Mercenary, on behalf of the Bishop….”

What?

***

“Are you the man named Arjen Elmion with a nationwide arrest warrant?”

Hunter Spen, an adventurer and bounty hunter, blocked Arjen’s path and smiled. A route beyond the influence of the Capital, the quickest way to cross the border. There was nowhere else for fugitives except this village and no other way but this path. He had personally captured dozens of major criminals and spies and saw this case as a golden opportunity.

“Weren’t you once called the King of Mercenaries, and then you were kicked out of the Hero’s Party? Now you’re a rat running around after the Kingdome place a reward for your head.”

The man called Arjen didn’t answer. He remained motionless, hood pulled down tight, facing Hunter Spen. The shadows of his hood made it impossible to tell where his eyes were looking or what expression his mouth was forming.

“By the way, you don’t think I’m the only one here, right?”

The amount for his head was eight million gold. Even if ten people shared it, it was enough money to play and eat for a lifetime. One after another, powerful mercenaries and adventurers from the continent crawled out of the alleyways.

“Even if you’re the so-called Mercenary King, you won’t be able to handle this.”

Arjen lifted his head.

The last they saw was Arjen’s ghastly grin.