Summoned by the Heretics – Even in Another World, the Zealot Who Worships Death Remains an Outcast - Vol 3 Chapter 53

Sukui was once again being jolted around in a carriage today.

Since the organization had been dismantled, there was a mountain of things to do.

Even though many tasks had been handled by those around Sukui while he slept, there were still plenty of things he needed to take care of himself.

Sukui wouldn’t deal with anything that didn’t pertain to his faith in death. Conversely, if something had even a slight connection, he would see it through. Given the future moves that needed consideration, there were many matters he couldn’t ignore.

Inside the carriage, Horo, who had been keeping Sukui company frequently as of late, was once again expressing his joy over the latest reward.

“But Horo-san,” Sukui interrupted Horo’s joyous words to interject.

“While what the lord gave us is generally good, this reward in the form of land…”

“This is worse than trash,” Sukui stated firmly.

Horo, who had been eagerly heading towards the land given by the lord, was taken aback.

To be more precise, Sukui considered most of the rewards unnecessary, but he hadn’t said so out of consideration for Horo’s happiness. Horo was genuinely pleased that Sukui’s efforts had been acknowledged, and Sukui was aware of that.

“Huh? But isn’t owning land amazing?” Horo asked, bewildered.

Owning land meant becoming a lord—essentially, it was prestigious. That’s how Horo saw it.

“Land is a splendid reward. However, depending on its quality, it can turn into a liability,” Sukui explained.

The land Sukui received this time was, apparently, an abandoned village. It was slightly distanced from the city of Onus but still within the lord’s domain. Until a few years ago, there had been residents, but over time, they had all relocated to Onus, leaving it completely empty now.

The village was once in a prime location near a prosperous town, and it had sustained itself by selling crops to the thriving city of Onus.

“It may have been a valuable village back then, but with no people and no maintenance,”

It was of no use. Sukui had considered a few ways to use it, but based on the time spent traveling there, it felt like a waste.

To Sukui, it was nothing more than a rusted collar from the lord, a clear indication of the desire to keep him tethered.

“Then how will you use it? With our magic, my lord and I could turn it into a large farm,” Horo suggested.

“That was one of the more viable options I thought of, but given the current situation, we aren’t struggling with money,” Sukui replied.

The money received from Francois at the gambling den, combined with this reward money, meant they had more than enough to last for several years. There was no need to go out of their way to establish a distant farm.

“Well, if it’s unnecessary, we can always sell it somewhere. Although, transferring a reward from the lord might be frowned upon,” Sukui remarked.

The lord simply wanted to keep Sukui tied to the city. Knowing his intentions made it easier to plan a response.

While thinking this, Sukui still intended to conduct an inspection. Partly to find a way to use it, partly just for the pretense of having checked it out before discarding it.

“Oh?” Sukui muttered.

They had reached a point far from the village, still at a distance where Horo couldn’t see clearly, when Sukui raised his voice.

“Is something the matter, my lord?”

“No, it’s just… I thought I saw some people,” Sukui replied.

Including those inside the houses, there are thirteen in total, Sukui promptly stated.

“Could it be that it’s being used as a hideout by bandits?” Horo wondered.

“If that’s the case, it would be an opportunity to offer salvation,” Sukui responded calmly to Horo’s concern.

However, Sukui had a different impression—it didn’t seem like a bandit group.

“Aren’t they engaging in farming?” Sukui questioned.

“Yes, it does look like they’re settled residents,” Horo observed.

The people who had appeared in Horo’s line of sight were not dressed well, but their lifestyle seemed like that of simple farmers. The fields had been maintained, resembling the way the original villagers likely kept them. The supposedly abandoned buildings clearly had residents, making it hard to think of them as ruins.

What caught Sukui’s eye was a massive mound of rocks. It was taller than the houses, and the collection of stones formed steps on all sides.

An altar, Sukui instinctively concluded.

“Could they be wanderers?” he wondered.

Considering the possibility of conflict, Sukui decided to leave the carriage at a distance from the village and asked Horo to return later in the evening.

“It’s not an issue if they’ve chosen to settle here,” Sukui thought aloud, holding Horo’s hand as they stepped down from the carriage.

As far as the land was concerned, Sukui had been told by the lord that he wasn’t required to pay any taxes. This could change if they decided to rebuild, but the lord wasn’t the type to tax a land he’d given away for free.

Sukui pondered whether it was possible to transfer the land to these people, although he wasn’t thrilled about the idea of being put in charge of overseeing them.

Of course, Sukui was the rightful owner of the land. He could rent it out to them and collect taxes, but that would also entail supervising them. They were, after all, people who had settled in an abandoned village without permission. If they caused trouble, it could become an unnecessary hassle.

“Let’s start with a conversation, shall we?”

“Yes, my lord,” Horo replied, showing no signs of fear as she accompanied Sukui.

As the two approached the village, some of the villagers who had noticed them disembarking from the carriage began to approach. Four men, perhaps due to their farming work or for other reasons, were quite large in stature. They likely came forward, wary of the well-dressed pair and the potential for conflict over land rights, determined not to be underestimated.

“Hello. Do you all live in this village?” Sukui greeted them in a gentle tone.

His tone was one meant to ease any suspicions of eviction or tax collection.

Just those words alone softened the expressions of the four men slightly.

“I heard this place was an abandoned village, but it seems you all are living quite well. Are you trading agricultural products?” Sukui inquired.

As he began to ask about the distribution of goods, something unusual happened to the four men.

They began to cry.

The men, startled, touched their own faces and realized they were wet with tears.

“Excuse me, but what…?” Sukui attempted to ask.

It was as if his words alone, and nothing else, reached the four men’s ears. One after another, they began to sob uncontrollably.

“What’s going on?” Sukui murmured, bewildered by the sight of four large men crumbling into tears just from being spoken to.

Although he could have induced such emotions if he tried, he hadn’t intended to. Sukui found it curious, and taking a step back, he signaled Horo to hold off for a moment as they waited for the four men to respond.

“My apologies, did I offend you in some way?”

“A-Ah…” One of the men choked out.

After crying for a while, each of the four deeply bowed their heads to Sukui.

Though not in perfect unison, all four assumed the same posture, and the first man to regain his composure began to speak, his voice trembling.

“W-We apologize for this…”

Tears still streamed down his face, but the man continued, wiping them away as he spoke.

“D-Did you… visit a certain slave trader… at some point?”

“A slave trader?” Sukui repeated, starting to catch on.

At the same time, Horo seemed to grasp the situation unfolding before them.

“Was it perhaps the place where I went to spread my faith?” Sukui asked.

A few days after coming to this otherworld, Sukui had rescued a dying girl from a slave trader. That girl was Horo.

At that time, Sukui had spread the gospel of death openly within that place of decay. Most people had chosen to end their lives, but Sukui remembered that a few had survived.

“We are those survivors,” the man continued, still sobbing. Upon closer inspection, Sukui noticed the deep scars on the man’s tongue—a sign that he had likely failed in his attempt at death.

Sukui, now understanding, asked for the full story.

Those who had been drawn to death but failed to achieve it had been able to escape their captivity thanks to Sukui. However, most of them had no family to return to or found it impossible to return to ordinary life.

Having been saved, they decided to live freely while always holding gratitude towards Sukui and reverence for death. Despite being strangers to one another, they were able to unite due to their shared feelings of gratitude towards Sukui.

Eventually, after fleeing from the dark alleys, they had found their way to this abandoned village and continued their lives here.

As they continued their conversation, more villagers gathered, and as they heard Sukui’s voice, they were overcome with emotion, crying, praying, and expressing their gratitude.

Sukui gently calmed them down and listened to their stories. Reviving an abandoned village solely with ex-slaves was no small feat.

“Though it’s called an abandoned village, the soil here is fertile for farming, and there are houses that only need minor repairs to be livable. We have no trouble leading a normal life,” a woman called out proudly from one of the houses.

It seemed as though she was boasting about their village to Sukui.

Of course, this was a village where people had lived just a few years ago. In a world where magic existed, rebuilding happened more quickly.

“What did you do for supplies beyond the crops?” Sukui asked.

“We sold them to passing merchants and exchanged them for other goods. We may have taken some losses, but now we’re quite settled into this village,” the woman answered.

Sukui surveyed the village with admiration. Indeed, despite its wear and tear, one wouldn’t think of it as an uninhabited village.

They had homes, fields, and even a means of acquiring other goods through trade. It seemed they had at least the minimum essentials covered.

“But to think we’d get to meet you again,” one of the villagers remarked.

All of the villagers expressed how they had never forgotten their gratitude towards Sukui. They had been so preoccupied with getting by day-to-day, but they had always wanted to find him one day and express their thanks.

“We are the foolish ones who, despite being touched by the beauty of death, could not fully embrace it. Even so, we have never forgotten our respect for you or for death,” the villager confessed.

There were many gods in this world, but no god of death. As such, there were no religions that revered death.

Even so, the villagers claimed that Sukui had made them aware of the beauty of death.

“That’s perfectly fine. To live with reverence for death in your hearts is also a form of devotion to it,” Sukui responded kindly.

At his words, the men once again shed tears.

They confessed that there were times they reconsidered ending their lives or felt they couldn’t bear to keep living. Yet, the acceptance of death and the knowledge that it would always be there to welcome them had provided them with a sense of solace.

“If you would, please take a look. It’s a reflection of our feelings,” one of the villagers offered.

The large mound of rocks that had initially puzzled Sukui turned out, as he had suspected, to be an altar.

It wasn’t built to offer anything, nor was there anything at its peak.

Even so, Sukui instantly grasped the magnificence of the altar.

“I see… I hadn’t thought of this. What a profound display of faith in death,” Sukui commented.

Indeed, the rock mound was something that could allow someone to die if they jumped from it.

While it was just a high pile of rocks in physical form, to those who worshipped death, its significance was different.

“Yes, it’s a place where we can always be welcomed into death. That reassurance forms the foundation of our community,” the villager explained.

Hearing Sukui’s approval, the villagers were deeply moved. Sukui himself couldn’t help but feel a certain excitement in the closeness he felt to death.

The structure was filled with the same philosophy of death that Sukui held.

“Since you’re here, please allow us to show you around the village. We don’t have much, but we want to show you the results of the gratitude you saved us with,” one villager said eagerly.

The villagers enthusiastically discussed death with each other. Yet, there was nothing dark in their words.

Horo, being Sukui’s chosen one, also received respect, and the villagers listened to Sukui’s words as if hearing a deity speak.