Summoned by the Heretics – Even in Another World, the Zealot Who Worships Death Remains an Outcast - Vol 3 Chapter 61

“Faith in Death, Salvation in Death”

Mistrel Bishop nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Since Sukui wasn’t entirely without any recollection of conversing with a deity, outright denial was difficult.

If the entity Sukui referred to as an angel was indeed a god, and if Mistrel Bishop had knowledge of the conversations prior to her transference, what could the reason for this be?

“Very well, that’s enough for now.”

With those words, Mistrel Bishop stood and extended both hands toward Sukui.

“I understand you well now. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

Her demeanor shifted—should one call it a change for the better? Her tone was sincere.

The gaze of Mistrel Bishop, meeting Sukui’s eyes directly, was steady, her expression cheerful.

“Let us both strive to do our best.”

Sukui couldn’t make sense of what was being said at all.

Understanding it in the moment seemed nearly impossible.

It didn’t take Sukui long to decide to leave the scene as quickly as possible.

She was unprepared. The lack of information about Mistrel Bishop, as well as her inadequate understanding of religion, had left her at a disadvantage.

As a result, she couldn’t comprehend the bishop’s words nor respond appropriately.

She resolved to revisit after thoroughly analyzing the bishop’s statements and preparing herself.

Sukui reflected on how her busy schedule had caused her to neglect research on her meeting counterpart.

Since she hadn’t been confronted with overt hostility, she decided it was best to withdraw for now.

Failing to understand meant she couldn’t identify potential triggers for anger.

One couldn’t predict what might lead to failure.

“Yes, let us do our best,” she replied, smiling gently, intent on swiftly wrapping up the conversation.

Mistrel Bishop appeared satisfied, while the Duke of Aquitaine seemed inclined to discuss matters of mutual interest further. However, as a first meeting, it could be seen as a success.

The Duke hinted at more complex discussions to come, mentioning he had a personal request, which seemed to reassure him that he had bait to draw Sukui in.

After a brief exchange, Sukui left the room.

Neither the Duke nor Mistrel Bishop accompanied her out; they remained in the room.

As the door closed, Sukui delved into her thoughts.

“Good work,”

Martyl Deacon greeted Sukui and Horo as they exited the room.

“Did you have a fruitful conversation?”

“Yes, Mistrel Bishop is quite a unique and intriguing individual.”

Smiling, Sukui responded, “She completely overturned my idea of what a bishop should be.”

Unique individuals often take pride in being called unique.

By highlighting her surprise in a respectful manner, Sukui knew it was an easy way to please someone.

This was self-evident to her—a straightforward conversational tactic.

“Indeed, bishops are often thought of as devout and humble figures,” Martyl Deacon said, escorting them to their carriage, his tone slightly livelier, as Sukui had anticipated.

“However, in this case, I would describe her as more of a greedy visionary than a typical bishop.”

“Greedy, you say?”

Sukui couldn’t help but think the term didn’t quite fit.

Certainly, Mistrel Bishop was unrestrained and not exactly polite, but “greedy visionary” seemed more applicable to the Duke of Aquitaine.

“Yes, but those who serve others must look up, not down, and lead with strength.”

“Leading from the front, you mean?”

While leadership qualities couldn’t be summarized in a single definition, Sukui acknowledged this as one valid perspective.

Mistrel Bishop, eccentric as she was, still held the position of bishop. She was undoubtedly capable, and her unrestrained nature might be why she was respected, even by the deacons.

Satisfied with Sukui’s response, Martyl Deacon nodded slowly and guided her to the carriage.

“Thank you for today. Please visit again soon.”

“Of course, thank you as well.”

After exchanging those words, the carriage set off, and Sukui let out a long sigh.

“I really couldn’t grasp much of what Mistrel Bishop was saying.”

“I can’t make heads or tails of it either.”

Horo echoed Sukui’s confusion.

If Mistrel Bishop’s behavior had been characteristic of the followers of Love, Horo might have been able to provide some insight. However, her conduct was entirely different from any other believer Horo had encountered.

“One thing is certain—this meeting was likely a trap.”

Sukui stated this as if it were obvious, casting a sidelong glance at Horo.

Horo nodded in agreement, fully understanding her point.

“The connection with the divine. They likely summoned you to confirm whether you truly had contact with a god, young master.”

“That’s the part I have no grasp of at all. I’m used to dealing with the unknown, but when it’s this incoherent, even thinking about it becomes…”

“Incoherent,” Horo murmured, almost reacting to Sukui’s choice of words.

Yes, perhaps that was the answer.

What if Mistrel Bishop’s incoherence itself was the key to understanding her?

A person who appeared incoherent might, in reality, be someone steeped in madness.

And such an individual…

Perhaps, was right next to her now.

Before that thought could take shape, Horo dismissed it.

Sukui might be eccentric, but she was compassionate and kind.

Horo harbored no doubts about that.

“For now, we’ll take some time and visit again later. Regardless of Mistrel Bishop, we must maintain a good rapport with the Duke of Aquitaine to avoid any unnecessary trouble.”

“You plan to demonstrate capabilities equal to or exceeding theirs, earning their judgment of us as allies, correct?”

“Exactly,” Sukui replied, discussing her strategy with Horo as they rode the carriage back to their inn.

At the inn, without Mei and the others present, Sukui prepared a simple meal in the kitchen. Afterward, she spent some time overseeing Horo’s studies before calling it a day.

“Shall we head to the territory today?”

The next morning, after finishing breakfast, Sukui addressed Horo.

“Yes, it feels like it’s been a while since we’ve seen Mei-san and the others.”

“It’s only been a few days, but considering we used to meet them daily at the inn, it does feel like it’s been quite a while.”

As Horo spoke cheerfully, Sukui offered her a gentle smile.

“Ah, come to think of it, isn’t today…”

“Yes, the shopkeeper mentioned yesterday that the kitchen would be completed today.”

The kitchen.

In Sukui’s village, cooking facilities had been scarce. As a temporary measure, they’d decided to turn an empty house into a communal kitchen to prepare meals for the entire village.

“Though it’s just a basic setup for now, we’re planning a small celebration to mark its completion. Mei-san’s father is spearheading the event, and we’ll be using vegetables from the village.”

In essence, it was a party to christen the new kitchen.

“Although I’ve been banned from entering the kitchen, Flame-san brought ingredients unavailable in the village, so it’s shaping up to be a feast.”

“That’s right! Mei-san was so excited about it!”

The completion of the kitchen marked the first step in the village’s development.

Though Sukui had been prohibited from participating in the cooking by Mei’s father, she was undoubtedly destined to be the star of the celebration.

“They’ve likely started prepping since yesterday. While Flame-san might be a bit late, it seems like the whole day will feel like a festival.”

Reflecting on this, Sukui realized they’d left rather early.

Departing in the morning meant they’d arrive by early afternoon. If it was going to be an intense celebration, perhaps arriving in the evening would have been better.

“It’s shaping up to be a fun day!”

But when Sukui looked at Horo’s face, she reconsidered.

Both Sukui and Horo had hardly had any time to rest.

Studies, training, dealings with the upper class, and fulfilling guild requests—it had been an endless cycle.

A break was needed. Thinking of it this way made Sukui smile wryly.

It almost felt as if she, too, had been looking forward to this day.

“Indeed, it seems so.”

Sukui smiled at Horo, sharing in her excitement.

Seeing that smile made Horo happy, and she snuggled closer to Sukui.

“By the way, young master, you’re carrying a lot today as well. What did you bring?”

“Oh, it’s nothing significant.”

Sukui always carried a large load. Considering the village’s reconstruction, it was understandable, but carrying so much even on the day of the festival felt odd to Horo.

As if answering Horo’s curiosity, Sukui opened her bag and took out a piece of cloth.

A slightly small, colorful garment.

It was children’s clothing.

“The twin children we played with the other day didn’t seem to have clothes that fit them. The entire village lacks sufficient clothing.”

The twins wore oversized adult clothes, and even the adults weren’t dressed properly.

They probably didn’t have distinctions like work clothes, casual wear, or sleepwear.

Even if they had the means to do laundry, having so few clothes in total made it unsanitary due to the washing cycle.

“I’m not saying you can’t live without enough clothes, but as they say, food, clothing, and shelter are all essential. Mei-san’s father led the way in building the kitchen, and Flame-san spearheaded the house repairs, so I brought these.”

Sukui’s bag was filled with enough clothes to distribute about three outfits to each villager.

“Young master, you also led those efforts.”

Horo pouted slightly at Sukui’s self-deprecating words but was delighted by the thoughtful gift.

Horo liked clothes too. Thinking back, she remembered when she was first given clothes.

“Clothes are part of being human. They say just wearing clothes you like can change your mood.”

Speaking in general terms about feelings she didn’t personally experience, Sukui gazed in the direction of the village.

“It’s still quiet. I wonder if everyone is preparing.”

“Yes, perhaps we came too early?”

Responding to Horo’s words, Sukui looked toward the village.

Even if they were preparing, with Sukui’s keen ears, she should hear some sounds, but perhaps they were out and about making arrangements.

She pondered such thoughts.

“Driver, you can stop around here. We’ll walk from here.”

“Is here okay?”

Horo looked puzzled as Sukui had the carriage stop a short walk away.

“Yes.”

With just that word, Sukui, carrying her large luggage, stepped off the carriage.

Horo, still somewhat confused, tried to gauge her intention as she got off and began walking.

It was strange. Sukui didn’t explain her reasons.

That in itself wasn’t particularly unusual.

In battles or conversations, Sukui often refrained from giving answers, encouraging Horo to think for herself.

Horo understood that Sukui intended to cultivate her thinking skills, and she herself wanted to arrive at answers on her own.

However, it was rare for Sukui to respond in a way that seemed to reject questions or ignore her when she asked.

Had she asked something obvious? Was she supposed to understand without being told, or was it rude to ask?

Such anxieties in Horo were, however, immediately dispelled.

Even as they approached the village, there wasn’t a single sound.

“Y-Young master?”

Even at a distance where Horo’s ears should clearly pick up sounds, they didn’t see a single person.

“Um…”

Sukui didn’t answer.

She just walked in silence.

Horo walked silently beside her.

It was quiet.

The doubt that perhaps no one was there was dispelled when four men appeared as if waiting for them upon reaching the village.

Come to think of it, when they first visited the village, they had been confronted by four men, Sukui recalled.

Looking closely, they were the same four.

She remembered as if it were yesterday how they met Sukui, realized her identity, and began to speak tearfully.

But if there was one difference from that time.

What the men were shedding—no, what they had been shedding—was not tears but large amounts of blood, and they would likely never speak again.

“Huh?”

Instead of tears, a small voice, along with the large luggage, fell from somewhere.