A Priest's Life as a Villain Chapter 64

The leader of the settlent, centurion Huben allotted Ran a small hut.

It was a makeshift shelter woven together from the abundant mountain branches, leaves, and tattered scraps of cloth, shaped to look reasonably decent.

"How could you let the child get to this state?"

There was even a forr military doctor in the settlent.

As he examined Iel, he faltered, unable to continue, before finally speaking again with a sigh.

"It's sheer accumulated exhaustion. To have endured this long with such a frail body—itself is a miracle."

The mont they reached the safe zone, Iel had collapsed.

Ran watched Iel anxiously.

"How is she otherwise? Is there any idea when she might wake up?"

"Listen."

The doctor, who had been feeling Iel's wrist, turned to face him.

There were five people in the hut—Iel, Ran, the doctor, and two others.

At the doctor's solemn words, both Ran and Rev, as well as Centurion Huben, tensed up.

"Are you in your right mind? What on earth were you thinking, bringing a child this young into the mountains?"

Ran lowered his head. He had nothing else to say; the doctor's words were nothing if not common sense.

The remnants of the Liberation Army in the safe zone were different. They hid in the mountains, sharpening their swords for revenge, sustained by the single-minded resolve to one day fight back and survive.

Astana Mountain was not a place an amateur rcenary could enter without such determination.

"I don't know what your circumstances are, but stop your trek. You may have been lucky so far, but any further is dangerous. This is advice as a doctor—don't push the child any further."

"Push her? That's unfair!"

Rev interjected abruptly. He looked between the doctor and Centurion Huben, fuming.

"Push her? That's absurd! Ran ca up here to protect Iel—he's done everything he possibly could."

Rev had closely observed Ran's efforts over the past days.

Ran had accomplished things unthinkable unless one was willing to risk their life. He climbed sheer cliffs with Iel on his back, fetched pond water from dangerous precipices, and even entered animal dens to hunt more than once or twice.

Rev's eyes flared. There was a sense of accountability, knowing just how much these two had endured, partly because of himself.

Now Centurion Huben stepped forward.

"All right, that's enough. You've made it all the way here, and that's what matters for now. You should take so rest first."

With only those words, Huben stood up. The doctor, still wearing a sour expression, followed him out.

"... Ran."

Rev looked at Ran for his reaction.

Ran was only fiddling with the wet cloth placed on Iel's forehead.

'Just what happened to him?'

It wasn't a new thought—Rev had often wondered behind Ran's back what kind of story the stoic young man was hiding. Perhaps, because he was feeling emotional, the question recurred now.

Why did this man demonstrate self-sacrifice bordering on the unthinkable, even for one's blood?

He was sure there must be a complex reason. Watching this reticent young man, who never talked about himself, Rev made a silent vow yet again.

'I'll keep my promise—my promise to help them find peace here, to keep them safe.'

It wasn't just that he owed Ran his life—twice. Nor was it simply the attachnt ford from sharing hardship these past days.

There was also pure admiration: a sense of awe toward a rcenary who risked his life for duty in these troubled tis, an odd sense of kinship as soone facing adversity resistantly, and even a writer's desire to closely observe and illuminate Ran's life.

"Ran, please try not to worry too much and get so rest."

Rev stepped aside, a bitter taste in his mouth.

Outside the hut, people were gathering, their voices buzzing. Their attention was naturally drawn to the unfamiliar outsiders.

"Rev, I'm so relieved you made it back alive."

Huben approached and patted him on the shoulder. Looking at Rev's now-empty left sleeve, he had a conflicted look in his eyes.

"You were left-handed, weren't you?"

"Pardon? Oh, no. I'm right-handed."

"That's good to hear."

Huben stroked his long beard. Clad in his white robe and with his hair loose, he could be mistaken for a mountain sage.

"You must never get involved in anything dangerous from now on."

"Commander?"

"We almost lost our great storyteller and our cause could have died with you. For my sake and for everyone, just stick to your pen from now on."

Huben didn't ask Rev about the whereabouts of the other comrades. His focus was solely on Rev.

Rev suddenly felt a slight sense of discomfort.

"That man saved your life how many tis?"

Huben said, glancing aningfully toward the hut where Ran and Iel were resting.

Seizing the opportunity, Rev promptly listed Ran's feats one by one.

There was much to recount, from the man-eater Umi to the spatial distortion they encountered on their way here.

"Oh! And on the way, I saw the Imperial Guard."

Everyone's eyes went wide at that.

It was one thing for rcenaries after a bounty, but the Imperial Army rarely ca into the mountains—much less the Imperial Guard.

"The Imperial Guard? You really saw them?"

Soone from the murmuring crowd asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure. I clearly saw the gold-embroidered eagle on their chests, and they wore blue cloaks."

"N-no way? Why would the Imperial Guard be here?"

They all looked as though they'd seen a ghost. For most Liberation Army soldiers, encounters with the Imperial Guard were a traumatic mory.

Huben's surprise was evident as he tried to steady his voice.

"What happened next? Did they see you? Are we compromised?"

"Don't worry. Ran took care of them all by himself."

Rev said quickly, as if he'd been waiting for this mont.

As expected, shock spread across everyone's faces. Rev savored their reactions, noting even the doctor who had earlier cornered Ran quite harshly.

A sense of pride welled up in him. Rev captured their attention again.

"You haven't heard the half of it yet."

Everyone turned their gazes, nervous.

"Ran is a swordsman who can wield a spirit-summoning sword."

"A spirit-summoning sword? No way!"

"I saw it with my own eyes—Ran summoned the guardian spirit, Nachal."

A cursed blade haunted by an evil spirit; Nachal, the guardian of Tarok.

For demons, in contrast, it was a holy sword imbued with a guardian spirit, with Nachal being one of the three guardian deities of Tarok.

Demons revered swordsn who could wield spirit-summoning swords as 'Sword Ghosts'.

* * *

There was a good reason why the refugees in the settlent called their land a safe zone.

Backed by high cliffs and bordered by a lake ford from cascading mountain waters—a textbook defensible location.

There was plenty of grass, even dicinal herbs, and so fruit trees had been secured. Ga was abundant.

"... Damn."

Huben drew on his pipe, filling the hut with smoke.

It was the largest and most luxurious hut in the safe zone.

"Commander, please don't worry. It's not easy to find this place in the vastness of these mountains."

The doctor tried to reassure him. Both n had a woman beside them, each passing a mouthful of precious liquor into the n's mouths.

Alcohol was a luxury here, unearthed only on special occasions.

In addition to the four, there was one more person in the hut.

A man dressed in traditional barbarian attire spoke up.

"What did you want to see for?" he asked in precise Imperial tongue, as if determined not to be swept up in the mood, eyes narrowed.

"Shouldn't you be used to life here by now, Tasker?"

Through the smoke, Huben's eyes glinted slyly.

Tasker answered without a change in expression.

"You talk about it so blithely, all while watching us every day."

"It's not surveillance, it's protection."

"Ha—don't give that nonsense. Get to the point."

It had been more than half a year since Huben's refugees had settled in the current safe zone.

At that ti, Tasker's group had had a run-in with the refugees while passing nearby.

In that clash, two of Tasker's warriors died, and the remaining three, including Tasker, were detained.

"We saved you from wandering lost in the mountains, but all you do is resent us. Are barbarians always so ungrateful?"

Huben let his displeasure show.

But Tasker didn't yield, retorting coolly.

"Haha, so those who once rebelled against discrimination have turned out no different."

"... Shut your mouth."

"Don't get cocky. Were it not for your sister-in-law and nephew, I'd have split your skull myself."

Smoke hissed from Huben's nostrils.

Though insulted, he didn't lose his composure. Jutting out his chin, he asserted his authority.

"So, is Sigurd still keeping her heart closed?"

"Huben, I'll say again—don't let her na cross that filthy mouth of yours."

"You foolish barbarian."

Tension crackled between them.

Tasker, his sister-in-law Sigurd, and his nephew Ragnar had been under Huben's constant surveillance in the safe zone.

Yet, Huben had shown so asure of kindness, giving them equal rations and accommodation as the other refugees.

But Tasker knew there was an ulterior motive behind it all.

'He covets my sister-in-law, persistently.'

Both n's motives and pretenses were clear.

Huben had been forced to detain the barbarians out of concern for the safe zone's secrecy, but he cultivated goodwill as a leader by treating them humanely.

Tasker endured the humiliation of captivity for the sake of his sister-in-law and nephew's safety.

Their fierce contest of pride ultimately stemd from a single woman.

"There's another reason I called you here."

Huben continued slowly.

"... Your holand. Northland."

Tasker bit down on his lower lip, unwilling to show his feelings.

"Do you clearly rember the way to Northland from here?"

Tasker's mind raced, unsure why this snake of a man would suddenly ask such a thing.

Feigning composure, Tasker replied, "Why ask that all of a sudden? Aren't you trying to keep us from returning ho? Out of fear of our revenge, no doubt. Hah."

"Think what you will. I'd prefer if you just answered."

"I don't see any reason to answer. You're so black-hearted I can't trust a word you say."

"Fine, then maybe I'll just have a little private chat with Sigurd. Maybe Ragnar, too."

"... You bastard."

Tasker muttered an expletive in Northland dialect, his eyes bloodshot.

Huben, passing his drink to the won, giggled slyly—a laugh nobody in the safe zone had ever seen from him.

He jabbed at Tasker with the end of his pipe.

"Don't try anything clever, barbarian. I'll grant you that your wits are sharp—you learned Imperial speech quickly enough. But you're still a barbarian. You're in my palm."

"...."

"While I'm treating you like a civilized man, you'd do well to behave, Tasker. If you keep trampling on my goodwill, I don't know what I might do. Do you understand?"

A grinding noise ca from Tasker's clenched jaw. His fists trembled.

"I rember. Just don't touch my sister-in-law and nephew. I don't know what you're after."

"Good, that's what I want to hear. It's not a difficult question, is it?"

Huben waved his hand dismissively.

Tasker exited the hut. Behind him, he could hear the laughter of n and won.

"... Damn."

Huben's hut stood on a hill overlooking the entire safe zone.

For Tasker, the safe zone was nothing more than an open-air prison. He'd made and abandoned escape plans multiple tis, as Sigurd and Ragnar's lives were at stake. He could not risk reckless action.

"You're a new face."

Tasker said, addressing the man who stepped out from the shadows.

In the safe zone, it was common to et newcors, and just as common for so to die and never be seen again. Even living together, people didn't form deep bonds; Tasker kept his distance by choice.

So, he felt little when seeing a stranger.

"Didn't expect to et soone important in an unlikely place."

Tasker's gaze darkened as he glanced back toward Huben's hut, which was quite far—out of earshot.

"Who are you?"

Ran shrugged in answer.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

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