WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Order

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 66: God's Love (1)

──────

Marcus moved so naturally that Isalvius only noticed something was wrong after his wrists were already half tied.

"Marcus? Why are you suddenly tying my wrists...?"

"We couldn't find our answer outside the walls, so we need to go inside and look around. And you're the only one here who can double as a gift and a lure, Isalvius."

If they meant to cast a line, they needed decent bait first.

And in a situation like this, where people were fighting over the Order of the God of Flowing Water, no bait could be better than Isalvius.

"Even so..."

Isalvius mumbled, trying to say something, but couldn't finish the thought. He understood too well how much danger Elbridge's group had already taken on for his sake.

In a situation like this, for Isalvius to accept some risk of his own wasn't a choice. It was an obligation.

With a resolved expression, Isalvius asked, "Understood. But I want to know what you plan to do once we're inside the walls."

"First, we should figure out what outcome you're hoping for, Isalvius."

Elbridge thought it a little odd that they'd tied Isalvius's wrists first and only now started the actual discussion, but neither Isalvius nor Marcus, the two people actually involved, seemed to think it mattered much.

After some thought, Isalvius said, "The ideal outcome would be rescuing every paladin and priest of the Flowing Water church, and getting them all into the castle held by the Black Hand-Axe Brotherhood."

Marcus asked, "The church that used to have close ties with yours, is that the Black Hand-Axe Brotherhood?"

"That's right."

Elbridge had never been to the south himself, but he'd heard about it from well-traveled paladins.

The churches of the southern continent, they said, differed a great deal from those elsewhere.

The first thing that stood out was the naming. Since churches down south were often built around bloodlines or shared territory, names like Apostles or Brotherhood were common.

"If that's the best outcome, what's the second best?"

"Well. It's less about second best and more... The important thing is gathering as many priests and paladins as possible in one place. Once our numbers grow and we have a real voice, we can avoid situations like this one."

Marcus thought for a moment before answering. "Then let's do this. We use Isalvius as bait to get inside the castle, then find an opening and slip the priests and paladins out. Escape a few here, escape a few there... Let's gather as many people as we can that way."

Isalvius still looked uneasy. "There will be rumors. Even if things go well, this might be the first and last castle we manage to rescue anyone from."

"You said the churches are at war with each other, so they probably don't keep in close contact. That means rumors will spread more slowly too. If we're lucky, we might manage to rescue people from three or four castles."

It was a reasonably realistic plan, so Elbridge and Rombel gave small nods of agreement.

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield, who had been quiet until now, made her presence subtly known.

- Of all people, Marcus came up with an opinion that lines up exactly with your goddess's. Rather sharp of him.

But in the very next moment, Marcus hesitated.

"Wait. The God of Fox Rain has sent down an oracle."

"An oracle?"

"Yes. Running to the storehouse every time you pick up a single stalk of grain is something only a fool would do. A wise person gathers enough stalks first, then carries them all at once... That's the gist of it."

In other words, rather than going from castle to castle rescuing a few paladins of the Flowing Water church at a time, they should cooperate with whatever faction held this castle, gather as many paladins as possible in one place, and then get them all out at once.

Rombel gave an awkward laugh. "That's definitely the better plan. Why didn't I think of that?"

But Elbridge couldn't laugh along with Rombel. He couldn't shake the thought that the Goddess of the Rusted Shield might have felt a little hurt by this.

Marcus said, "That settles it, more or less. Let's move."

Marcus took the lead alongside Isalvius, with Rombel and Elbridge following behind them.

As the four of them approached the wall, a harpoon on a rope shot down from above and struck the ground.

Thunk.

The harpoon buried itself nearly two spans deep into the earth.

The southern soil might be soft, but that was still well beyond what an ordinary person's strength could manage.

'They said there are hardly any knights in the south... so a paladin, then.'

Looking up, Elbridge saw a young man in a metal cuirass looking down at them from atop the wall.

"Stop right there. Who are you?"

The young man's voice was a little stiff, but what came through wasn't hostility so much as tension.

Even the spot where the harpoon had landed was too far off to have been meant to kill. Elbridge's group hadn't looked like a hostile force, which was why the response, such as it was, came out fairly mild.

Marcus answered, "Travelers who'll clearly be useful to you."

"Be specific."

"I'm Marcus, mercenary of the Order of the God of Fox Rain. The paladin behind me is Sir Elbridge of the Order of the Rusted Shield. And the dwarf beside him is... just Rombel."

Rombel shot Marcus a look, but Marcus paid it no mind.

The young man atop the wall answered, "That's certainly not southern dress or an accent I recognize. Where are you from? As far as I know, neither the Order of the God of Fox Rain nor the Order of the Rusted Shield has any presence in the south."

"We came from eastern Solenion."

"The east, huh. And how did you end up bringing a priest of the Flowing Water church along?"

"It's a long story. Mind if we come in and speak with whoever's in charge? I can't promise we'll be useful to you, but we won't do you any harm either."

Marcus's words carried a fair bit of persuasive weight.

In a castle holding anywhere from several dozen to over a hundred paladins, four outsiders posed no real threat.

"Wait here."

The young man's hand flicked briefly toward something behind him. Surely sending word up the chain to someone higher up.

After a short while, the young man called out, "We can't open the gate. Climb up the ladder."

If they opened the gate and troops that had been lying in ambush in the Great Forest came pouring out, it would be a disaster, so they'd rather lower a ladder than open the gate.

"Lower the ladder for us."

Clunk.

A ladder large enough to be mistaken for a siege ladder was hooked over the wall.

"I'll go up first."

Elbridge climbed the ladder first.

When he reached the top of the wall, the first thing that caught his eye was a dozen or so men and women surrounding him.

'Southern paladins? Their gear is strange.'

They wore metal cuirasses, but the rest of their armor was made of tanned leather.

Too elaborate for soldiers, but too simple for paladins.

Their weapons were unusual too. Each of them carried a somewhat short, curved sword along with a roped harpoon.

Elbridge turned to look at the city beyond the wall.

Buildings packed close together on the ground.

The floor space of each building wasn't large, likely because space was tight, but they were built up two or three stories high.

Just as Isalvius had said, small houses sat perched in the massive trees inside the city. Some houses stretched between one tree and another, and some people even used enormous burls in the trunks as houses.

Staircases fixed to the bark were visible here and there.

'If they might need to climb up and down trees at any moment, that's probably why the paladins here are armed so lightly.'

Once Marcus and Rombel, carrying Isalvius, climbed up after Elbridge, the young man from before said, "Follow them."

The dozen or so paladins moved in a tight formation around Elbridge's group, as if escorting prisoners.

Just as Elbridge's group had gazed at the southern city with curiosity, the people of the city watched Elbridge's group with eyes just as curious.

Except that whenever the onlookers' eyes happened to meet those of the southern paladins, they quickly looked away.

'Fear?'

It was clearly different from how people in the east reacted to paladins or knights, without fear.

Marcus seemed to notice the mood too, and lowered his voice to ask Isalvius, "Isalvius. Are southerners afraid of paladins?"

"Yes. The south is different from the east. Southern paladins are, how should I put it... You could think of them as a mix of eastern nobles, knights, and paladins all in one. They rule their territories through bloodlines and hold a monopoly on force."

"Why did that difference come about?"

"Unlike other regions, where demonic beasts have long been rare, the south has never managed to fully clear its demonic beasts out. It's the vast Great Forest. There have always been plenty of demonic beasts, and the paladins' role has never disappeared. Every church here has always been both ruler and protector of its city. Their authority couldn't help but grow."

"Fascinating."

Unlike Marcus, who found it all simply fascinating, Elbridge and Rombel found the mood a little familiar.

People in the old days had feared paladins a little, and revered them a little, both at once.

As Elbridge walked slowly along, he found old memories of things he'd once heard about the south rising up in pieces.

A much smaller population than other regions. Mostly minor churches without heavenly seats. Land where demons rarely appeared. But land infested with more demonic beasts than could be counted. Paladins who doubled as priests...

Before long, the group's steps came to a stop.

They'd arrived at a spot with the largest, and somewhat leaning, tree in the city.

In front of the tree stood a platform about chest height, built from a pale white stone rarely seen in this region.

A middle-aged man sat atop the platform, and below it stood dozens of armed men and women in formation.

About half carried the curved swords and harpoons, but the rest carried a variety of other weapons.

'It's not just different weapons. Multiple churches are mixed in here. But the ones using harpoons clearly have the strongest following.'

Behind the platform, a few people stood staring at Isalvius with wide eyes, and from their expressions, they appeared to belong to the Flowing Water church.

Elbridge finished his quick survey of the scene and turned his gaze back to the platform.

'That man must be the head of this church.'

A man with black curly hair falling to his shoulders.

Even seated, it was easy to tell his frame was far larger than an ordinary person's, and he carried an air less human than that of some lean, powerful beast.

The man on the platform spoke. "I never expected guests from the distant east. I'm Bireone. Leader of the Silver Javelin Apostles. In eastern terms, I suppose you'd call me something like an Archbishop and High Paladin combined."

Archbishop and High Paladin combined. Elbridge felt a small flicker of kinship.

Granted, in Elbridge's own case it was more that there'd been no one else around to take the important posts, but still.

Marcus answered, "I'm Marcus, mercenary of the Order of the God of Fox Rain. These two behind me are Elbridge, paladin of the Order of the Rusted Shield, and Rombel."

Bireone's gaze swept over Elbridge's group. And Elbridge thought that gaze lingered on him a little longer than the others.

"So. Marcus. What brings you to the Silver Javelin Apostles?"

"Took on a request. Isalvius here asked us to help gather the priests and paladins of the Flowing Water church somewhere, anywhere, so they could live together."

"So Isalvius is the client, then. Why are the client's wrists tied?"

A sharp catch.

Come to think of it, there was no real reason to have tied Isalvius's wrists at all.

If he had to reach for one, maybe it was that having Isalvius's wrists bound made Elbridge's group seem a little less threatening?

Marcus blurted out whatever came to mind. "In the east, there's a custom of wrapping gifts nicely before you give them."

"Ha!"

The answer seemed to please him, and Bireone burst out laughing.

The paladins around him turned their heads slightly and laughed along too.

Elbridge picked up a useful piece of information from this: southerners apparently liked jokes that made no real sense.

After laughing for quite a while, Bireone said, "Fine. Not a bad joke. I'll accept the gift gladly. You're all free to go now."

Marcus frowned. "The request I took on isn't finished until the people of the Flowing Water church are all gathered together."

"Are you saying you intend to fight alongside us?"

"If that's what it takes."

But Bireone's response came back lukewarm.

"Would you even be useful?"

Caught off guard by the unexpected rejection, Marcus faltered.

But to Elbridge, it didn't read as a rejection so much as a provocation.

Despite the lukewarm tone, Bireone's eyes were full of interest.

And it wasn't just Bireone. Every paladin lined up below the platform seemed to be expecting something.

There were people like that in the world.

People who found it easier to size someone up by clashing with them than by patiently getting to know them through proper courtesy. People who believed you could only see someone's true worth by crossing swords with them.

Bireone and the southern paladins were making a demand of Elbridge's group.

Be a little more honest than usual, and a little ruder than usual. Show what's really underneath.

To people like this, humility was simply the behavior of a weakling not worth respecting.

So Elbridge bared his white teeth and smiled.

"Anyone listening might think you southern pups actually had an eye for judging an eastern paladin's skill."

Sure enough, what burned in the southern paladins' eyes wasn't anger, but interest and competitive fire.

Elbridge lifted his chin with arrogance.

"If even one of you manages to beat me, I'll strip off every piece of my armor and crawl all the way back to the Holy City of Solenion."

At Elbridge's bold declaration, Bireone burst into laughter.

"Ha! I know the Order of the Rusted Shield picked up four heavenly seats this year. But more seats doesn't mean the paladins got any better."

Elbridge grinned. "Anyone want a shot. I'll show you what our weakest paladin can do."

Footnotes:

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried