Chapter 19…
Clatter—clatter—
“Urgh…”
It had already been five days since they left the estate and headed for the Nivosus Mountain Range.
Eric, half-collapsed in the swaying carriage, tried to suppress his queasy stomach.
Ugh. I’ll never get used to this damn motion sickness. I’d rather be rolling around in the training grounds with Leona than this.
Was it because of his low stamina? Even the slightest jolt made his vision spin. And since it wasn’t exactly training or combat, he couldn’t even expect the effects of <Indomitable> to kick in.
“Master, if it’s too much, shall we stop and rest for a while?”
“…No, it’s fine. We’re almost at the city anyway. Better to rest properly once we arrive.”
To the coachman’s worried voice, Eric shook his head firmly.
Far in the distance, a small city wall came into view. If they hurried, they would reach the city before sundown.
“Urgh…”
Damn it, here I am suffering with motion sickness while others have it easy. Must be nice.
Poking his head through the tiny carriage window to dry heave, he soon heard groaning from his side. Eric glanced down enviously at Lillian, who had once again fainted beside him.
How nice would it be if he could just pass out comfortably too? Yet every time she woke up, she whined about being forced to use magic before collapsing again. Sometimes, he was tempted to flick her on the forehead.
Still, it’s not like this whole trip has been a total waste of time.
<Lillian Ashford>
Level: 23
Strength [12]
Agility [15]
Stamina [9]
Mana [205]
Trait: <Glass Cannon>
Thanks to the routine of waking her up, forcing her to use magic, and letting her faint again—combined with training at the estate—Lillian’s stamina had actually gone up in less than ten days.
Granted, that doesn’t mean she can suddenly stay conscious after casting spells.
Even so, it wasn’t meaningless. After all, the reason she collapsed was because she consumed stamina after depleting her mana. By raising stamina, her effective capacity as a mage increased.
If she’s going to pass out anyway, the best option is to maximize each spell. And if my guess is right, the monsters currently nesting in the Nivosus Mountains should be weak against magic.
Clatter—
After enduring the nausea for a while longer, Eric noticed the carriage had stopped at dusk. He cautiously peeked outside.
“Quite the crowd. Almost seems busier than our own territory.”
“I wonder if the inns will have any rooms left.”
“If not, we can always ask the local lord for lodging. No way they’d refuse a guest from a ducal house.”
The place was bustling, no less than their own duchy’s capital.
Well, anyone traveling through these mountains would have to pass here. Of course the crowds gather.
He looked past the city wall at the towering mountain range, awed at its sheer size. Even turning his head from side to side, he couldn’t see the end of it.
And yet one day, this massive range would be reduced to a single peak.
If he failed to prevent the coming calamity, countless lives would be lost here. Just imagining it made a chill run down his spine.
Tap—tap—
“Sir Lillian, time to wake up.”
“Ugh… Hii! N-no more passing out… huh?”
Later, after stabling the horses and letting Leona gather the luggage, Eric shook Lillian awake where she still lay unconscious in the carriage.
“Are we there already?”
“Yes. The carriage kept moving even while you were knocked out.”
“Th-then I don’t have to use magic again anytime soon, right?”
“With all these people around? Casting magic in the middle of a city would be reckless.”
Seeing her pale face of relief, Eric pointed outside. Lillian carefully climbed down and, spotting the bustling crowds, finally relaxed.
“Anyway, let’s find our own lodgings. Better that than imposing on strangers.”
“Ah… yes!”
After paying the stable master, Eric led the two women through the streets in search of an inn. Technically, they could request lodging from the lord, but that was a last resort. As the duke’s son, they’d surely be given rooms—but considering his reputation, the welcome wouldn’t be warm.
Ding—
“No rooms here either, Master.”
“Ugh… this looks like the last one. What if they’re full too?”
“Then we’ll try offering extra pay. If not, we’ll have to go to the lord’s manor.”
Eventually, after wandering for some time, they found a small inn tucked away in a back alley. Though the streets were crowded, Eric had expected some availability since the avalanche had cut off the mountains. He was wrong.
Travelers had stayed, merchants had gathered to do business with them, and rooms were packed.
Haa… hopefully we can get one here… huh?
As they passed the noisy tavern tables toward the counter, Eric froze.
The Shadow Paladins? What’s the Church’s dark hand doing here?
In a dim corner sat armored knights in pitch-black plate.
The Shadow Paladins—elite zealots chosen from the Church’s holy knights, infamous as the Order’s “dark hand.”
“Is something wrong, Master?”
“…No, nothing.”
But why were they here, of all places? In the novel, they always handled the Church’s dirtiest work. Yet perhaps it wasn’t strange—they might just be passing through, blocked by the avalanche.
Still, nothing good comes from crossing paths with them. Especially in this body…
Despite the name “paladins,” they were fanatics who carried out the Church’s filthiest tasks in the name of the Goddess.
Even with Allen’s body—the Goddess’s beloved—Eric wouldn’t have wanted to deal with them. In this useless, unblessed body, it was even worse.
“Innkeeper, do you have any rooms left?”
“No, sir. We had some earlier, but those guests over there rented out the entire second floor.”
Eric followed the man’s pointing finger and grimaced. Of course—it was the Shadow Paladins. Several of them even met his gaze.
“…Shall I ask if they’d be willing to spare a room or two?” Lillian whispered hopefully.
“No, that’s not—”
“You should.”
Just as Eric tried to wave her off, a calm, commanding voice stopped him.
“Deny not your fellow’s need. Give freely when called upon.”
From among the knights rose a figure dressed in black with golden embroidery, her face hidden by a dark veil.
Eric recognized her instantly, and cold sweat ran down his back.
No way… why is she here?!
The Church’s true darkness, even beyond the Shadow Paladins—an inquisitor who embraced forbidden arts to root out “heretics.”
The Goddess’s Sixth Finger.
Isabella Ravenkroft, Inquisitor.
<Isabella Ravenkroft>
Level: 50
Strength [205]
Agility [90]
Stamina [120]
Mana [95]
Traits: <Fanatic>, <Superhuman>, <??>
Even though the timeline hadn’t reached her proper appearance yet, her stats were already monstrous.
“There’s no need to decline. Even if we give you three rooms, we still have more than enough.”
“R-really? Thank you! Master, what a relief! She’s so kind!”
Behind the veil, a faint smile could be seen. Her gentle tone and generosity seemed every bit like the Goddess’s grace.
Unlike the innocent Lillian, Eric couldn’t smile. He knew her true nature—something even her knights might not realize.
“…Master.”
Leona’s worried eyes pressed him for a response. Eric finally forced himself to bow.
“Thank you for your generosity. Then we’ll humbly accept.”
There was no avoiding it. Refusing would only draw suspicion.
It’s just for one night. We’ll only sleep. Nothing to worry about.
He wasn’t planning to cross paths with them in the mountains tomorrow anyway. His only goal was to clear the avalanche’s cause and prevent the catastrophe that would one day erase this entire region.
Best to take it as a small blessing—an early rest before climbing tomorrow.
After thanking Isabella and paying, Eric accepted the keys and led his companions upstairs. Dwelling on uncertainties was pointless. What mattered was preventing disaster and earning enough merit that the family elders could no longer dismiss him.
Later, downstairs.
“Why did you help them?”
Once Eric, Leona, and Lillian were gone, one of the knights asked. Though space wasn’t truly an issue, there had been a reason they rented an entire floor in this secluded inn.
“Didn’t you hear earlier? I was merely following the Goddess’s teachings.”
“…”
With a playful smile, Isabella narrowed her eyes at his stony silence. These dreary knights never understood jokes.
“How many outsiders even know of the Shadow Paladins’ existence?”
Sighing softly, she recalled the man who had caught her eye the moment he entered.
That unsettling feeling—like seeing a clumsy imitation of a human. He carried none of the Goddess’s warmth, as though he were one of those filthy “incompetents” unblessed by her grace.
“Very few, even within the Order itself,” the knight admitted.
Yet that man had looked at them differently. For a brief moment, his eyes had been filled with suspicion—like someone recognizing those who should not be there.
“And what about me?”
“…Pardon?”
She had also seen his startled expression when she offered him the rooms.
That girl called him ‘young master’…
An incompetent. Yet of noble birth.
In the north, there was only one such person.
The wastrel of the North… the Ater family’s second son.
“Which priest is assigned to the Ater Duchy?”
“Because the duchy is so large… I believe Sir Elior is stationed there.”
“I see…”
Eric Ater.
Rumor painted him as a pathetic scoundrel, but his wary gaze earlier suggested otherwise. Perhaps the rumors were wrong. Perhaps he had been pretending to be incompetent all along. Or perhaps… something else entirely.
“Could we obtain a report from Sir Elior about any recent changes in the Ater family?”
“…Is that a request from the Goddess’s Finger?”
“No, just…”
Smiling faintly, Isabella shook her head.
“Just a personal curiosity.”
Yes—for now, it was only curiosity.
