Vol 4 Chapter 92: “Original Sin” (Vol 4: The Otherworldly Battlefield Arc)

In the end, Sukui ended up joining the church.

The church was organized with the cleric at the top, supported by knights and numerous other members. Sukui, however, didn’t fall into any of these categories. Instead, he was placed in a position directly under the cleric’s command.

“Are you okay with this?”

Holo asked, sounding somewhat dissatisfied. While she didn’t mind Sukui joining an organization, the idea of him working under someone didn’t sit well.

“It’s fine, for now.”

Sukui had been a mafia hitman for a long time in his previous world, though he hadn’t done such things since arriving in this one. He held no particular aversion to being part of an organization.

“Even though I’ve joined the church, it’s just about following the cleric’s instructions. It’s not like it happens often, and I can still maintain a certain level of independence.”

It wasn’t a bad arrangement. Sukui wasn’t required to visit the church regularly—he simply had to assist when the cleric asked.

This arrangement also granted him a title as a member of the church, a position of authority in this city. While “authority” here meant little more than a certain level of trust, gaining even that much could be unexpectedly difficult.

“As long as you’re okay with it, Master.”

Holo didn’t object further. Half of her reservations stemmed from jealousy toward the cleric, though she understood Sukui didn’t view the cleric romantically.

It had been about ten days since Sukui and the cleric negotiated with the mafia.

Holo didn’t know the details of what transpired between Sukui and the cleric during that time. All she knew was that Sukui had joined the church and was now directly under the cleric’s command.

During those ten days, Sukui had been active either on his own or under instructions from Holo or the cleric.

His activities included responding to monster invasions, capturing criminals, and leveraging his knowledge of the three nations for trade negotiations and meetings. While busy, considering his abilities and past experiences, it could be said his tasks were relatively safe.

Today, Sukui had returned home after hunting a flying monster that had escaped during the previous invasion.

“The cleric is thinking about defeating the Demon Lord, isn’t she? Are you going to join her, Master?”

Sukui was preparing dinner while Holo, taking a break, made tea and chose a jam to pair with it. She asked about the church’s plans.

“Given my position, I’m supposed to, but for now, I’m holding off.”

There had been another meeting regarding the Demon Lord’s defeat. Sukui, after demonstrating his capabilities, argued that having as many knights as possible would still be meaningless.

The knights had to concede, knowing Sukui’s skills. The fact that even Sukui, who could easily handle the so-called elite, admitted he wouldn’t stand a chance against the Demon Lord, made the futility clear.

“The idea that only a hero or a saint-class mage can fight the Demon Lord means there’s no point in gathering lower-level fighters. In this city, only I, the cleric, and Holo-san could stand against the Demon Lord.”

During these ten days, Sukui had also contacted people in the city’s underworld but found no one who matched the prowess of an A-rank mage. The few with decent abilities weren’t trustworthy enough to rely on.

“Without knowing the Demon Lord’s abilities, it’s difficult even to gather intelligence. With only three people at an A-rank mage level, it’s far from reassuring.”

Historically, many had set out to confront the Demon Lord, at least to gather information, but none had returned. The Demon Lord’s castle might even function as a magic device, trapping anyone who entered. That was the most logical assumption.

Incidentally, Sukui had not yet told anyone that Holo was capable of fighting. The cleric seemed to have deduced it but had stated in the meeting that only she and Sukui could confront the Demon Lord.

“Regardless of what the Demon Lord may be, they are considered the root of all evil. I can understand wanting to stop them.”

The cleric’s instructions to Sukui included searching for capable individuals to fight the Demon Lord. Though he had no intention of slacking off, he couldn’t deny a sense of resignation.

“Well, given that this is a city of criminals, it’s unlikely we’ll find anyone strong enough not to drag you down, Master.”

Holo tilted her head thoughtfully.

“Oh!”

She suddenly exclaimed.

“What is it?”

“Well, speaking of capable individuals…”

Holo paused, considering whether her idea was far-fetched, and then spoke.

“Pardaa-san was supposedly very strong in the past. I’ve heard stories about how he protected children in Poliviti before the cleric arrived. Maybe he knows some strong people?”

“Oh, that’s a blind spot.”

Sukui smiled as he neatly sliced some dried meat. “Pardaa-san himself might be a stretch, but birds of a feather flock together. He’s a well-connected individual, so there’s a chance he knows someone we can rely on.”

Since they had the opportunity, Sukui suggested they bring dinner to Pardaa-san and see what they could learn. Holo agreed.

The two prepared a pot of stew, took some bread, and headed to Pardaa’s house. When Sukui mentioned they had something to discuss, Pardaa welcomed them warmly.

“I hadn’t eaten yet, so this is a big help.”

Pardaa slowly lowered himself into his chair, moving with care for his aging body. It was the same seat as last time. Sukui placed the pot in the center of the table and spread out some sliced bread.

“I’ve made it a bit spicy. You can eat it as is or pair it with the bread.”

Sukui pulled out a bottle. “This pairs well with alcohol too.”

“Oh, that’s much appreciated. It’s hard to get a drink around here,” Pardaa said, tilting his glass toward Sukui.

As Sukui poured the drink, he glanced around the room.

The room was barren. He had thought as much the last time he was here—there was nothing in it. Initially, he assumed this was because Poliviti was a resource-scarce area, but after spending time here, he realized the city wasn’t that deprived.

Pardaa simply didn’t seem to want to keep many belongings.

“So, you’ve come to borrow the wisdom of an old man, have you?”

Pardaa sipped his drink and accepted a plate of food as he spoke.

“Well, it’s nothing too important,” Sukui replied.

He smiled slightly, adding, “Mostly, I just wanted to share a meal with you since I had the time.”

Holo thought to herself, What a charmer.

“Haha, that’s a delightful reason. I hear you’ve officially joined the church, Sukui-kun,” Pardaa said. “I imagine they’re keeping you busy.”

Sukui agreed, mentioning that the work was fulfilling.

“Actually, I need your advice regarding that,” Sukui said, lowering his voice. “This is confidential, but…”

“Currently, the cleric is leading an effort to recruit members for a Demon Lord subjugation party.”

“What? Without waiting for a Hero?” Pardaa exclaimed, his surprise evident.

But his tone also carried a hint of understanding. For those familiar with the cleric, it wasn’t surprising that she would want to take on the Demon Lord without relying on a Hero.

Some might call it idealism, but the respect she commanded came from her relentless pursuit of those ideals and the results she achieved.

“She likely wants to prove that this city can accomplish great things on its own, without relying on the world’s approval,” Sukui added.

“Hmm, that does sound like her,” Pardaa muttered thoughtfully.

His expression grew serious, and Sukui nodded in agreement.

“The Demon Lord is said to require a Hero accompanied by saint-class magic users to defeat. The cleric may be one such magic user, but there aren’t others of her caliber.”

Sukui didn’t include himself in this evaluation.

Although his undead magic might rank at S-class, Sukui considered his overall abilities to be closer to A-class at best.

“There’s no standard for how many saint-class magic users a Hero might bring, but it’s unlikely to be just one. Without a Hero, we’d need at least several saint-class magic users to even consider this.”

Despite searching the city, Sukui hadn’t found anyone with that level of strength, even under the cleric’s guidance.

“While I’ve received advice from the cleric, I’m still a newcomer to this city. That’s why I thought someone like you, who’s lived in Poliviti for so long, might know of someone.”

“Hmm, I see.”

Though he nodded in understanding, Pardaa’s expression remained tense. It was clear he was thinking hard, but the chances seemed slim.

“I’ve heard that you were quite a formidable fighter in the past, Pardaa-san. People say you trained Sopra-san and Abid-san as well.”

“Oh, those were rough days,” Pardaa replied with a chuckle.

He referred to the time before the cleric’s arrival in Poliviti.

Back then, sharing a meal like this would have been unthinkable. The mere idea of eating peacefully with someone else was a luxury.

“It’s a dangerous task, so I’m not here to pressure anyone. I just want to reach out,” Sukui said.

He emphasized, “It’s also a request from the cleric herself.”

Pardaa stared into the distance as if searching through old memories.

“That’s right… Poliviti was a place where children couldn’t survive back then. I fought to protect the children I took in and taught them self-defense.”

Sopra and Abid, thanks to that training, seemed able to hold their own in a fight.

“I killed so many. I did it to protect the children, but I ended up drenched in blood.”

A hint of regret showed on Pardaa’s face. Remembering the past likely brought back unpleasant memories.

In fact, such memories probably outnumbered the good ones. Sukui worried that he had steered the conversation toward old stories too quickly.

“But if we’re talking about standing alongside the cleric…”

Pardaa paused for a moment, then answered.

“No one comes to mind. At least, not stronger than I was back then. The children I raised only received enough training to defend themselves. And if there had been someone stronger than me back then…”

He gestured around. “I wouldn’t be here now.”

Sukui sensed more than disappointment—he realized just how powerful Pardaa must have been in his prime. He had protected multiple children, cared for them, and never lost to any foe.

Sukui found himself wondering if the present Pardaa could still show flashes of his former strength.

“I see. It’s true there can’t be multiple saint-class magic users in Poliviti,” Sukui said.

He mentioned that perhaps they should wait for a Hero, and Pardaa agreed.

“The cleric can be a strict superior. Those under her go through a lot.”

“That’s the same everywhere.”

Sukui shifted the conversation back to small talk.

It wasn’t a wasted question. Holo felt a bit guilty but still thought it was worthwhile to visit, as good relations with neighbors were important.

“By the way, do you take care of this place on your own?” Sukui asked.

Pardaa’s body looked frail. Sopra had come by recently, so Sukui assumed one of Pardaa’s former wards occasionally helped out, but he brought it up as a conversation piece.

“I manage, but I rely on others a lot. I can still do a few things myself, though I’m not very efficient.”

“We’re nearby. Feel free to call on us anytime.”

As Sukui skillfully offered support, Holo wondered if none of the children Pardaa raised had stayed with him.

Poliviti didn’t have a formal marriage system. She had heard that Pardaa and his wards once lived together in a large house, like the one Sukui now occupied.

In a place like this, staying together might have made sense for mutual support. There were still many orphaned children around, so continuing that support would have been feasible.

At the very least, Holo thought, one of them might have stayed in this house to care for Pardaa. But then she realized that no matter how much of a benefactor he was, people here didn’t always have the resources to look after someone else.

“So, do you maintain the garden yourself?” Sukui asked.

“Indeed.”

He had been curious about this before. Having a garden in Poliviti was rare, and taking the time to enjoy gardening was a luxury.

“That’s one thing I do on my own.”

It seemed like something Pardaa had strong feelings about. There were no weeds, the plants were neatly arranged, and beautiful flowers bloomed.

It was clear he put real care into it.

“You’ve put a lot of work into it.”

“Yes, though it’s actually… a graveyard.”

Pardaa spoke slowly, not as if he was unwilling, but as if the topic was delicate.

“For one of the children you raised?”

Sukui, accustomed to dealing with death, didn’t offer apologies or condolences. He spoke as though continuing their casual chat.

“Yes. It was the first one. I owe who I am today to that child.”

There was no evident sadness in his voice. It was likely an old story, possibly faded with time.

Still, he tended the garden, remembered that child, and spent his days looking out over the flowers.

“That’s a lovely sentiment.”

Whether he was simply accustomed to death or carried another intention, Sukui’s words came across as sincere flattery. Pardaa merely replied:

“Thank you.”

He offered those words of gratitude to someone—anyone—who might understand.