WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle
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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈
Chapter 73: Dungeon (1)
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Eugene was considering his unit’s next move.
They had crushed the pirates and sold the spoils for a fair price. Thanks to Baron Est’s generous hospitality, the army’s morale was high.
“Already thinking about your next battlefield?”
Marbas smiled at the ambitious young knight.
“An army costs money just by breathing. It would be a waste to let it sit idle.”
“If you lead them, any enemy will turn into a pile of silver coins, so all you need to worry about is where to go.”
“Thank you, but aren’t you cold dressed like that?”
Winter was nearing its end, but the air was still chilly. Yet Marbas wore nothing but a monk’s robe.
“What can I do when even the cold feels warm? Every sensation against my skin brings me joy.”
“Well, you don’t seem like someone who’d catch a cold from this.”
Eugene had noticed it while pouring purified water over him, but Marbas’s body was thick and sturdy, unlike what one would expect from an elderly summoner.
“More importantly, Baron Est is as fortunate as you are.”
The two looked down from the balcony at the newly arrived guests.
Several dozen combat priests led by a Hospitaller knight were entering the castle in formation.
They were sturdy warriors who offered their souls and bodies to God and trained day and night.
The swordsmanship they learned was no less than what was taught at The Knight's House, and their resolve would not waver until their final breath.
Monastics might have no interest in power struggles between nobles, but they rushed at monsters and bandits like moths to a flame.
“To think so many noble people would answer the request of someone as insignificant as me.”
Baron Est, who had gone out to greet them, was moved by God’s love, but the baron was also beginning to feel the burden. Far more people had arrived than Baron Est had expected.
Still, letting those who had come to help the fief go hungry would be the greatest disgrace for a noble.
“My hospitality may be lacking, but I will serve you with all my sincerity.”
“We appreciate the baron’s sentiment, but we came only to obtain supplies. We’ll be leaving shortly.”
Fortunately, the monastics did not seem to intend to remain at the castle.
“I heard from the residents that Sir Eugene is staying here. Is that correct?”
“Yes! He destroyed the gathered pirates in a single stroke. Thanks to him, the surrounding area is safe again.”
The monastics were impressed by a victory greater than they had imagined. No wonder the villages here had remained intact, unlike those in other regions.
“I wish to see him on an urgent matter. Please arrange a meeting.”
“Of course.”
The Hospitaller knight who commanded them came up with the baron’s guidance. Eugene knew him.
“Sir Andrew?”
“It’s good to see you. I had been looking forward to the day we met again, and this truly must be God’s guidance.”
He was the one who had purified the battlefield where the Imperial Faction and Noble Faction had fought a bloody war.
‘He was a more senior figure than I thought.’
Given that he always led so many combat priests, he could not be an ordinary monastic knight.
“I regret not recognizing you properly then. To think you were the one who slew an evil heretical mage and a magical beast.”
After returning, Andrew had made inquiries about Eugene. The accomplishments he learned of were astonishing.
His eyes were full of goodwill. A knight who had defeated evil among evils was like a brother fighting the same holy war.
“There is something I would like to ask of you, Sir Eugene.”
“So you did not come solely at Baron Est’s request.”
He had asked for supplies as soon as he entered the castle, then sought Eugene out to request help. Such efficiency showed that he had come with a firm purpose from the beginning.
“Protecting suffering people is certainly important. But we came because of a more urgent duty.”
“What is it?”
It was strange to hear this from people who looked only to God and had made charity their calling.
“There is Rasta Monastery not far from here.”
“It is an ancient place. I saw it on the map.”
After becoming lord, the first thing Eugene had done was learn about the powers surrounding his fief.
Rasta Monastery was an extremely isolated place, cut off from outside contact. Eugene knew only that it was very old.
“The pirates are not interested only in villages. Monasteries are prey they seek with burning eyes.”
Monasteries accumulated far more wealth than most villages. They could not compare to cities or noble castles, but they were easier to attack.
“If there are no villages left to plunder, they’ll target monasteries.”
“Yes. Duke Ismar sent us to support Rasta Monastery. But the number of pirates we expect is beyond anything we imagined, and we desperately need your help.”
Not every pirate had joined because they were tempted by the title the Emperor had offered.
Many simply sought plunder amid the chaos of civil war. Such pirates would raid monasteries without a second thought.
“We can only hope the monastics have kept a close watch, if only so they can evacuate if needed.”
Andrew shook his head at Eugene’s assumption that they might already be too late.
“The people of Rasta Monastery will die before they abandon their posts. It is not an ordinary monastery.”
“Are they safeguarding a holy relic?”
An object used for a long time by a great saint was called a holy relic, a keepsake bound to them by a powerful connection.
In the world Eugene knew, worshipping a mere object was considered a form of idolatry and forbidden.
Yet in a world where divine miracles truly existed, holy relics held a different status. They contained the power of miracles and saved people, so they were treated with reverence.
“In a sense, they are safeguarding something even more important than a holy relic.”
Andrew was silent for a moment before speaking.
“An entrance to Hell is sealed beneath Rasta Monastery.”
His expression was utterly grave.
* * *
“So it is a dungeon.”
Marbas said this when Eugene returned after saying he would consult his advisers.
“Andrew called it an entrance to Hell.”
“It depends on what you call it. Just as summoners call it a Spiritual Tide while priests call it the cycle of an evil god.”
“I have only heard rumors about dungeons.”
It was not a term for monster dens or laboratories left behind by mages. Dungeons were far more dangerous and malicious places.
“Parts of the present world where we live overlap with the Otherworld. Rarely, there are even places directly connected to it. Every one of them is dangerous.”
Sometimes they were dense forests. Sometimes abandoned castles. Sometimes holes that burrowed endlessly into the earth.
Separating such dungeons from the mortal world was also one of the religious orders’ important duties.
“In this case, the monastery itself must have been built from the beginning to seal and watch over the dungeon.”
“Exactly.”
Eugene took a letter from his pocket.
“Andrew lent it to me. It is a letter the abbot of Rasta Monastery sent to Duke Ismar.”
“He gave that to you? Well, they are desperate for help, so the side in need must reveal more secrets.”
Varda looked surprised, but also proud. It meant Eugene had earned that much recognition.
“It seems that slaying the heretical mage and magical beast meant a great deal to them. When I said I needed to consult my advisers, he handed it over for reference.”
Eugene unfolded the letter and placed it on the table. The two mages approached and read it.
< To Duke Ismar.
I deeply regret the civil war in Roman.
The cycle of an evil god has arrived, and the world will grow even more dangerous, yet humans shed blood and pour out hatred against one another. It is truly heartbreaking.
But that is not the only danger we must consider.
The monastery’s seal has grown too old, and its holy power is weakening.
Furthermore, pirates allied with the Emperor have been drawing closer in recent days.
This old monk is deeply worried that they may be blinded by greed and enter this place to commit some foolish act.
More than ever, we need strong brothers here. We may even need a new seal.
Please heed the concerns we bear. This matter is also connected to the peace of the north.
Abbot Benedict. >
“I think we should accept their request for help unless there is a very good reason not to.”
The monastics possessed sufficient military strength and devoted themselves to helping the people. Duke Ismar was also the most powerful figure in the north.
Earning goodwill from both sides could only benefit them.
“I was thinking of accepting. But...”
Eugene looked at Marbas.
“Wouldn’t it be better for you to remain at the castle, Marbas?”
“Why would that be?”
“I thought that, as a summoner, you might not get along with monastics.”
Mages generally did not have good relations with monastics. Summoners, in particular, were once called necromancers.
Darkness, death, ghosts, and suspiciousness. They had an image that seemed to gather every sinister aspect of magic.
“Not at all. Of all mages, summoners like me get along best with monastics.”
Marbas laughed heartily as though Eugene’s concern was needless.
* * *
When Eugene announced that he would join them, Andrew grasped his hand with a moved expression.
“Thank you. God will surely bless this great devotion.”
The combat priests behind him also made the sign of the cross and prayed.
Baron Yones remained in Baron Est’s fief. There were many wounded and conscripts, so both their marching speed and combat strength would have suffered.
“This is the summoner Marbas.”
“I once read a book you wrote during my theology lessons.”
“To think the Magical Beast Slayer and a renowned summoner will join us. This must be God’s arrangement!”
The monastics greeted Marbas warmly after Eugene’s introduction.
They were so excited that Andrew had to calm them down and lead them elsewhere.
“I never expected you to have entered a religious order and studied theology.”
“For the last thirty years, the world around me held nothing but pain and heat.”
It was common for people to rely on faith to endure unbearable suffering.
“When one suffers like that, sometimes... one feels as though they have pierced through the pain and reached something beyond it. A merciful yet powerful presence. I wondered whether that was the salvation of God the priests spoke of.”
“My master once said something similar.”
Marbas looked startled and curious.
“Sir Gopri?”
A knight who swung a sword, not a seeker of magic. Marbas was deeply interested to hear that someone who had walked such a different path had experienced something similar.
“He said that while concentrating on every sound in the world, he heard God’s voice.”
“So that was why the Knight of Prophecy devoted himself to faith. How interesting.”
“My master is not a mage, but his hearing has reached the realm of magic.”
“Yes. Magic is not as extraordinary as people think.”
Marbas nodded readily.
It was entirely possible for someone who had devoted a lifetime to a single sense to hear a fragment of mystery.
“To return to the matter at hand, I have experienced Hell more deeply than anyone. I recorded those experiences and theories in a book, and the religious orders showed great interest.”
The book Marbas wrote about Hell was considered required reading among monastics, something one should read at least once.
“I am not the first case. In any famous religious order, there are bound to be at least one or two books written by summoners.”
Summoners devoted their lives to looking into other worlds. During that research, some came to understand vast and transcendent beings.
History had seen no shortage of people who awakened to faith from that shock and knocked on the gates of monasteries.
Even those who did not go that far showed profound respect for the existence of God. It was only natural that summoners and monastics would be friendly.
“Even so, I am surprised that the religious orders are so accepting of a mage’s knowledge. I thought they would be far more stubborn.”
“They already have an excellent example of what not to do. Does the Church of the Absolute you grew up with not provide the answer?”
This world was full of countless dangers and mysteries. No matter how powerful someone was, if they proceeded with arrogance, their end would be nothing but decline.
The forces leading the world today always remembered the lessons learned from such a past.
“I trust your martial strength as well, but please do not let your guard down.”
“You are not saying that because of the pirates. Are you worried about the dungeon?”
“The part of the abbot’s letter saying the seal is weakening troubles me.”
Marbas stroked his rough chin and fell into thought.
He had always wanted to grow a beard, but the flames that burned his soul and flesh had kept his chin smooth.
Now, though, his beard grew normally. Even while deep in serious thought, the corners of Marbas’s mouth rose.
“During a Spiritual Tide, all kinds of incidents are bound to occur.”
“I would like to say nothing will happen when I arrive, but... that is not easy.”
The deeper Eugene’s understanding of magic became, the more he realized that powerful mysteries were fated to become entangled with other mysteries.
“You are practically a walking vortex of mystery.”
Marbas recalled the dream Eugene had described.
Perhaps even the enormous mystery known as the Wandering Castle was being drawn to this strange knight.
A ship wandering through the fog was drawn to a brilliant lighthouse.
That was why Marbas stayed with Eugene, aside from repaying his debt.
“In any case, do not worry too much. I am with you this time.”
“Oh?”
“Spiritual seals are one of a summoner’s specialties. That is another reason summoners get along with religious orders. Should something happen, I will step forward.”
They faced two tasks, suppressing the pirates and dealing with a dangerous dungeon.
The best possible hands for both had gathered. There was a reason the monastics had rejoiced and called it God’s arrangement.
Footnotes:
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