Chương 89: I Told You to Come in Person

The spot where the injured white owl had taken off was half-buried under the night's snowfall. Digging at it with the toe of a boot brought up the faint smell of burnt feathers. The talon marks still ran long across the ground, but their edges had crumbled, and only the spot where Kichan had pressed down the material board lay slightly flatter than the snow around it. Valkyrie circled the mark once, then touched a half-melted shard of cold with one fingertip. Watery light trembled briefly.

Kichan closed the mouth of the magic bag.

"We're only going to take a look." Riphiel wrapped the messenger's ring again. The owl had already flown away with their reply and vanished beyond the end of the sky.

"It is a request from the Holy See. I am not certain it will end with merely looking..."

"You said it was a request." Kichan nudged the black-root residue buried in the snow with his toe.

"You can turn down a request." Riphiel only pressed her lips together. No answer came to her at once. Kichan spent another day below the highlands. Once the owl left, the sky vanished behind another blizzard, and by morning the blood and traces of cold around the place where the material board had rested were nearly covered. When the following afternoon passed without any news, Kichan began packing the magic bag in earnest, ready to leave. Argaon sat on a boulder some distance away.

He wore a human shape, yet the snowfield around him was strangely still. The saber-toothed tiger rested beneath the rock with its body lowered, while Dust hung from the mouth of Kichan's bag and watched snow pour through the trees. Argaon's nose moved by the smallest degree.

"They're coming again."

"What is?" Before Kichan could raise his head, Dust sprang out of the bag. Valkyrie looked up. Riphiel stopped in the middle of writing something. Beyond the blizzard, two white shadows were gliding down between the tops of the black conifers. At first they looked like clumps of snow being pushed by the wind. Then wings appeared. Each time the wings folded and opened, snow poured from the branches below. They were larger than the injured messenger owl. Much larger.

When the pair swept low between the trees, the dry grass at the edge of the field flattened in one direction.

"They are larger than the messenger." Metal rings circled the owls' ankles. They bore the same emblem of the Holy See, but several layers of much older sealing script had been carved around it. The rings shone darkly, like sacred objects worn smooth by years of handling. The two owls landed. The falling snow rolled away in circles beneath their wings. Their wingtips closed with a brief sound. One stood before Riphiel, while the other settled beside the shadow of a tree some distance away.

Almost at once, both owls turned their heads toward Argaon. Their talons remained planted in the snow, but their necks drew back slightly. Kichan saw their reaction, glanced at Argaon, and clicked his tongue.

"You just have to make it obvious, don't you?" Riphiel had no time to respond. People were climbing down from the owls' backs. A woman in a white cloak descended from the nearer owl. Her clothes were neat, though several owl feathers clung to the ends of her sleeves. The moment her boots touched the snow, she bowed before bothering to straighten her cloak. A man in armor climbed down from the other owl.

The leather at his shoulders and elbows had been compressed by long use, and the fingers of his gloves bore the marks of years around a sword hilt. He surveyed their surroundings before finally looking at Kichan. Riphiel's posture stiffened.

"The Saintess and... the Saint." The Saintess and the Saint greeted them courteously.

"His Holiness cannot leave the Papal State at present." Kichan's brow moved. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. The Saint stepped forward.

"We did not wait for your reply before setting out. His Holiness had already sent us." Kichan considered that for a moment.

"He knew what I was going to say?" The Saintess answered quietly.

"His Holiness said the situation was growing worse. He ordered us to escort you back as quickly as possible."

"Why me?" This time, the Saintess could not answer immediately. The Saint looked in turn at Kichan's hands, the wake-up rod, and the traces of treatment left in the snow.

"Because you may be able to help." Kichan scratched his jaw with a look of open reluctance. The saber-toothed tiger breathed low. Dust leaned toward the white feathers caught on the Saintess's sleeve, only for Riphiel to seize it.

"So what exactly happened?" Rather than answer at once, the Saintess turned her head slightly toward the border sky. Beyond the aurora highlands, a thin band of black smoke hung beneath the low clouds. Whenever the wind shifted, it carried the faintest smell of burning.

"The conflict between humans and demihumans has become severe. Battles break out almost every day, and children and refugees are disappearing." Kichan's hand stopped. The Saint did not miss it.

"There is also compensation."

"Compensation?" Kichan's eyes changed by the smallest amount. Riphiel saw it and swallowed a sigh. Argaon narrowed his eyes, amused. The Saintess continued.

"It is an object the Papal State has guarded for a very long time. His Holiness said you would certainly want it."

"What is it?"

"We must take you to the tower. The seal is kept there."

"Can't you at least tell me what it is first?"

"You must see it for yourself." Kichan looked at the owls. They waited in the blizzard, their enormous, silent eyes fixed on him. Kichan looked from their backs to their wings and frowned.

"You want me to ride that?" The Saintess spoke carefully.

"It is the fastest way." Kichan glared at the owls for a long while, then retied the cord around his magic bag.

"We all go. And we're only taking a look." The Saintess bowed.

"Yes."

"We check the compensation. If even one of us says no, we're not doing it." The Saint answered briefly.

"I will convey those terms."

"And food." The Saintess blinked.

"Pardon?"

"Is there anywhere to eat there?" The Saint did not answer. Only his lips tightened. After a moment, he said in a low voice,"The shelters near the border are short of food." Kichan closed his mouth. The silence lowered the Saintess's shoulders a little. Riphiel added nothing more. Climbing onto the owls was quieter than Kichan had expected. The Saint mounted the forward owl first, while the Saintess checked the saddle straps on the other. The saber-toothed tiger crouched near the back of one owl.

Valkyrie stayed close to Kichan's shoulder. Dust went after every ring, feather, and piece of saddle metal until Riphiel caught it and climbed aboard with it in her arms. Argaon remained standing in the snow until the end. When the owl turned its head toward him, he mounted without a word. The owl lowered its body by the slightest amount. Kichan saw it and sighed. The wings opened. The snowfield rushed backward. Wind struck Kichan's face, and the aurora highlands dropped away beneath them in an instant.

He held a saddle strap with one hand and pressed down on the wake-up rod with the other.

"Is this thing safe?" The Saint answered from ahead.

"There are almost no reports of crashes."

"Almost?"

"There are rarely survivors to file them."

"Why would you put it that way?" The Saintess took a small breath.

"Saint."

"It is the truth." Kichan asked no more. The landscape below was changing. A black line appeared between snow and stone. A road. Smoke rose from its far end. Farther away, red light flickered despite the daylight. Riphiel looked toward it and bit her lip. The Saintess did not turn her head. She stared straight ahead like someone working not to look. The Saint kept watching the smoke. His gloved hand tightened slightly around the saddle strap. The palace of the Papal State stood inside the mountain range.

High towers and low galleries, old cathedral roofs and owl nests all leaned against one another. Metal rings had been driven into every tower, and a few white feathers hung from each one. The owls landed atop the highest tower. Talons struck stone. Old scratches covered the entire tower floor. The moment Kichan climbed down, he rubbed the sole of one foot against the stone. The Saint went ahead and opened the door. The wind vanished at once inside.

In its place came the mingled scent of old bell metal and dry feathers. The corridor was not long. Small metal rings lined the walls, with illegible writing carved between them. Riphiel held her breath as she studied it. Kichan did not try to read. The inside of his throat merely began to tickle. He frowned.

"Better watch what I say in here."

"Are you all right?" When Riphiel asked, Kichan waved one hand.

"My throat just feels strange." Argaon looked at him. The Saint stopped at the end of the corridor. A small chamber lay there. A single stone pedestal stood in its center, supporting a box covered in black cloth. The box was smaller than Kichan had expected. Yet the air around it alone seemed to sink beneath a heavy weight. The Saintess spoke softly.

"This is what His Holiness ordered us to show you." The Saint stood before the box. He drew back the cloth with both hands. His fingers stopped once before moving again. The moment he gripped the lid, his shoulders lowered slightly. The lid did not rise at once. A thread of white light escaped from beneath the black cloth. Kichan tightened his grip on the wake-up rod. Its tip gave a tiny vibration. The vibration reached his palm before the sound reached his ears. Kichan looked down reflexively.

His palm was growing hot.

"What is this?" The Saintess's lips went white. The Saint looked at Kichan without opening the box. For the first time, Argaon took a step forward.

"Back away."