How a Former Pastor Lives in Another World

15

Greater Danger

It wasn’t too difficult to beat the witch to death.

She was a witch who couldn’t even flee after being denounced, easily caught.

It meant she wasn’t that powerful of a witch to begin with.

Moreover, her luck was terrible, facing off against fully armed clerics like Priest Moro and top graduates like Ray, second-placer Aaron, and fourth-placer Jenny, all possessing holy relics.

With the addition of the villagers’ mob beating, the witch was splendidly exorcised.

“Woooah! The witch is dead!”

“Long live Soltera! Sol Estella!!”

“Long live Soltera! Sol Estella!!”

The villagers cheered triumphantly upon the successful witch hunt.

The trainee members who accidentally hunted the witch looked dumbfounded, but Ray didn’t miss the opportunity.

Swooosh!

He caught the soul departing from the dead witch’s body.

[······!?]

The bewildered soul screamed out.

The round-shaped, worm-like, dark red soul was torn apart right there.

The torn soul scattered and naturally flowed into Ray.

As the possession took place, his vision transformed.

He felt a heavy weight on his chest, lower than his usual line of sight.

‘This is why I hate female possessions.’

It had been a month since the last possession during the entrance exam when he snapped a prisoner’s neck, not a particularly pleasant experience.

‘It seems to be this village. What was the witch doing here?’

The witch’s name was Mary.

She had come to this village in search of something, and its identity was soon discovered.

“I must hurry to the lord’s castle to assist Lord Capricorn!”

Capricorn. It was the reason why Witch Mary had come to this village.

The problem was that it wasn’t easy to gain entry into the lord’s castle.

Mary stayed in the city, biding her time for months, looking for an opportunity to infiltrate the castle, but there weren’t many ways for a mere commoner to enter.

Meanwhile, a plague spread throughout the city.

It wasn’t Mary’s doing.

In medieval cities, diseases were easily propagated due to sanitation issues.

This time, too, the plague had spread due to poor hygiene and management.

Mary saw this as an opportunity.

“Everyone, take this herb. It will alleviate your symptoms more than before.”

Pretending to be a distinguished physician to raise her reputation!

The plague didn’t just sweep through the commoners’ districts. It wouldn’t be long before it reached the lord’s castle.

What if there was said to be an outstanding physician in the village?

Mary’s herbs, honed with her deep knowledge of pathology since becoming a witch, were indeed effective against the plague.

Thanks to Mary, there were plenty who survived the plague without dying.

‘Good! If it goes on like this, I’ll be able to infiltrate the lord’s castle!’

Who would have thought that such an unexpected plague would be of help?

But seizing that opportunity was also her own doing. Indeed, I am smart!

“Margaret. Won’t you go on a date with me today? I’ve reserved a splendid dinner for you.”

What is this, a man crazed by lust?

In a city ravaged by plague, this male suitor dares to ask her, busy tending to the sick, for a date.

Margaret looked at Ronald, the miller’s son who lacked any tact, with eyes full of contempt.

“I’m busy.”

“What? No way! I’ve already paid the reservation fee! If we cancel now, I’ll have to pay a penalty!”

Oh, this pathetic fool.

He made reservations on his own and now he’s complaining.

The miller’s son always acted so superior, but now he’s just an eyesore.

“Just go away.”

“Margaret…! How dare you…!”

The witch who had rejected Ronald’s date hadn’t considered it.

A not insignificant number of medieval witch hunt accusations stemmed from ‘spurned advances.’

“That woman is a witch! I saw her using suspicious herbs!”

“What? Margaret is a witch? No wonder she seemed odd!”

“······Ah, damn it.”

The witch felt unjustly accused at this.

***

“Hmm······.”

Having read the witch’s memories, Ray felt a twinge of sympathy.

She really had bad luck.

To be accused there? And she was a real witch.

Why was this true?

Regardless, through the soul of the witch who had been terribly unlucky, he confirmed that there was something in the lord’s castle.

“Capricorn······.”

“What does that mean?”

Jenny tilted her head in confusion. Aaron and Henry did the same.

“Ah, it seemed like the witch was crying out that name as she was dying. Do you know it?”

At Ray’s question, Father Moro shook his head.

“I’ve never heard that name before. It could be a high-ranking contractor that the witch served.”

Ray was skeptical at this.

If there was a high-ranking contractor named Capricorn in the lord’s castle, why hadn’t they welcomed the witch who came to serve them?

“It seems likely that it’s related to those who were posing as the territorial army.”

“I think so too. Was that why you sang the exorcism?”

“Yes, actually, when the priest was conducting the heresy interrogation, an unusual aura seeped in.”

Father Moro realized that the witch, who had not flinched at his interrogation, had revealed her true form through Ray’s exorcism.

Exorcism. That is, it wasn’t the witch’s disguise but a warding against another power.

‘How did the young brother notice such a thing?’

Father Moro was surprised that Ray had keenly noticed it and performed the appropriate exorcism ritual.

Among the clergy, there are those who possess the power of exorcism, able to easily track demonic energies, but Ray was not known to Father Moro as one of them.

In other words, he had noticed the strange change purely through spiritual power······.

‘Is it a natural-born trait?’

It was indeed a precious quality.

A power that can be stronger than any bestowed ability.

It is something that can only be awakened by the chosen of the gods.

‘Could it be…’

Father Moro, in the deepest sanctum of the Holy Nation.

It was no coincidence he thought of beings more revered than the cardinals, those lofty celestial entities.

“Brother Ray. Have you noticed anything else unusual?”

“Well…”

Ray whispered cautiously, wary of the villagers intoxicated by the fervor of the witch hunt.

“There’s something in the Lord’s Castle. It seems the being the witch speaks of, Capricorn, is there.”

“In the Lord’s Castle…”

Of all places, it had to be where the nobility resided.

The domain of the city’s master, the Count of Violet, who also ruled over four neighboring cities and more than twenty villages.

A military noble adjacent to the north, with over fifty knights under his command.

Not an easy target for the clergy of the Holy Nation to breach.

“Father Moro. Is it indeed difficult to enter the Lord’s Castle?”

“The nobles tend to be wary of priests. Especially the itinerant ones.”

And for good reason.

An itinerant priest usually means an armed pilgrim warrior.

In other words, an unwelcome guest like an inquisitor or a paladin.

“But do we have to approach as priests?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… don’t we have a noble among us?”

Swiftly.

Three gazes turned in one direction.

The son of the Archbishop, from the distinguished noble house of Graham.

Aaron Graham.

“Ah, well… Strictly speaking, my father has renounced worldly ties…”

Once a noble, always a noble.

***

The northern stronghold. It’s been nearly half a year since Count Violet of the borderlands has cut off contact with the outside world.

The strange inquiries and the bizarre shamans passing through made the atmosphere within the castle walls understandably subdued.

Ralph Violet, the Count of Change, was aware of this atmosphere.

“Count, there’s a report about the witch hunt that occurred in the city…”

“I’m not interested.”

The Count’s sharp response silenced the official.

Instead, he asked about something else.

“What happened to the shamans we summoned this time?”

“They failed again… Count! We must stop summoning these suspicious shamans! Perhaps we should turn to the Holy Nation instead…!”

“The Holy Nation is out of the question!”

Bang! The Count of Change slammed his desk, shattering the solid wood. Even thick lumber was no match for the brute strength of a Sword Expert.

“Summon new shamans! Among the barbarians, there must be one who can heal my daughter!”

“Count…”

It was a story that had been repeating for half a year.

The Count of Change, the northern chieftain and the kingdom’s guardian, was not always like this.

He was a warrior, steadfast as a fortress, defending the kingdom’s borderlands.

A commander who had protected the kingdom from the northern barbarians all his life.

And now, he was summoning the very shamans of the barbarians he so despised?

Anyone who knew the Count of Change would find it unimaginable.

‘If only the young lady hadn’t become like this…’

The Count had lost his composure because of his daughter, who had been bedridden for the past six months.

Lady Ophelia, the Count’s daughter, had been injured while subduing monsters in the domain and had not opened her eyes since.

No physician within the Count’s command could treat Ophelia, and the young lord had guessed it to be the work of an evil spell, suggesting they summon the clergy of the Holy Nation, but for some reason, the Count refused.

‘Of course, if rumors spread that the young lady was cursed by an evil spell, she wouldn’t be able to marry… I understand, but…’

To summon barbarian shamans instead?

The aide remembered the Count of Change as a more reasonable man.

“Did he refuse again?”

“Oh, young master…”

The aide bowed his head to Lawrence of the Violet Change family.

“Ever since my sister became like this, father has changed too. He was never like this before…”

“Young master…”

Lawrence, though young, was a bright prodigy.

He knew the incident that befell his sister was not a matter to be delayed by mere talk of marriage.

“Recently, I heard that a priest from the Holy State will visit for a witch interrogation. Can’t we invite him to the castle?”

“The Count has strictly forbidden the clergy’s entry. The soldiers will… prioritize the Count’s wishes.”

“I suppose so…”

If the clergy from the Holy State were to visit, it would be inevitable for this matter to spread as rumors.

After all, it was suspicious enough for a noble to bring clergy into the castle.

“Jackson. I’ll ask you frankly.”

“Yes, young master.”

“…The smell from my father. It seems to be getting worse. Could it be an illness?”

It was a question the servants of the Count’s household dared not raise.

As Lawrence said, an unusual rotten smell had begun to emanate from the Count. It was as if…

“It’s similar to the smell from my sister. I may not have as much experience as my father or sister, but… it’s akin to the stench of a decaying corpse.”

“Young master…!”

Jackson glanced around nervously, checking if anyone had overheard. If so, it would be a disgrace to the Count’s family.

“The lady’s illness is severe, causing a peculiar smell. Having been by such a lady’s side for long, the Count might emit a similar scent.”

“…Really?”

“Yes, that’s true. Therefore, young master, especially at times like these, you must remain steadfast. The Count will soon…”

That’s when it happened.

A guard, rushing in haste. He was a soldier guarding the firmly closed castle gates.

“What’s the matter!”

“Ah, young master! It’s just that… a guest has arrived!”

“A guest? I haven’t heard of any guests visiting?”

As Lawrence expressed his surprise, the guard revealed the guest’s identity.

“He claims to be Aaron Graham from the House of Graham!”

“The House of Graham? Isn’t that a noble family far to the south of here?”

Why would a scion from such a place come here?

“Ah…!”

Jackson’s eyes sparkled. Having served the Count’s family for a long time, he knew the nobility’s directory by heart.

“Young master! We must welcome them as guests immediately!”

“Indeed, that must be done… But first, I must report to my father…”

“Let’s not rush that! We must first escort you inside the castle!”

“……?”

Lawrence, puzzled, watched as Jackson’s face lit up with a hopeful radiance.

The Graham Earldom.

A prestigious family traditionally known for producing clergy for the Holy State.

***

Thanks to the aide Jackson’s ingenuity, Ray and his companions were able to enter the Violet Lordship’s castle.

Officially, it was hospitality for a noble visiting the domain. But in reality, as soon as they met Lawrence, they all revealed their identities.

“I am Aaron Graham, a reserve member of the Holy State’s armed institution, and these are my peers. Lastly, this is Father Moro, the inquisitor of the Eclipse heresy.”

“Ah……”

As Aaron candidly revealed their identities, Lawrence’s pupils wavered.

It was a time when the clergy’s entry was strictly forbidden by his father, Earl Violet’s command, and he had broken that decree.

But before Lawrence could say anything, Ray took the initiative.

“Lord Lawrence, have there been any suspicious signs in the castle lately?”

“That, that is……”

Lawrence hesitated to speak rashly about his sister’s condition.

The ultimate destination for a noble lady is to marry into another family and become the mistress of the household.

Even though his sister was a knight renowned even among the border earldoms, marriage was an unavoidable fate.

If strange rumors were to be tied to such a place, it would ruin his sister’s prospects for marriage.

“My lord…! If not now, then it will be too late!”

“Jackson! Father ordered silence!”

Lawrence scolded Jackson, but Jackson, kneeling, pleaded in a pitiful voice.

“My lord…! Still, we must save the lady! A marriage is important, but how can it be more important than a life!”

“Jackson……”

Moved by his retainer’s desperate plea, Lawrence wavered.

Eventually, he decided to defy his father’s command.

“The truth is……”

Lawrence began to reveal the whole story.

The words that fell from his lips were ominous.

Countess Ophelia Violet was injured while subduing a monster and had to be escorted away.

A strange scent wafted from the young lady who could not open her eyes, and soon, a similar smell began to emanate from the count as well.

With each word from Lawrence, Father Moro’s expression grew more grave.

And Ray felt the same.

‘Could it be…’

Then, Priest Moro spoke.

“May I examine the young lady’s condition?”

“That is…”

“It’s necessary. The situation may be more serious than you think.”

Under Father Moro’s insistence, Lawrence nodded silently. Father Moro looked back.

“Except for Brother Ray, the two of you wait here.”

“What? But…”

“I’ll be right back.”

Father Moro, with Ray in tow, followed Lawrence discreetly.

They arrived at the door to Lady Ophelia’s room.

The soldiers guarding the door asked,

“Young master, who are the two behind you…”

“They’re sorcerers newly hired by my father.”

“Ah…”

The guards sent subtle glances, struggling to manage their expressions.

The sorcerers who had entered the lady’s room over the past half-year had performed such bizarre acts that the guards were visibly disgusted.

“I shall enter.”

“Oh, yes…”

As the guards readily opened the door, Lawrence said,

“You might want to hold your nose.”

The meaning of his words became clear the moment they stepped inside.

A terrible stench poured out from the inside, assaulting their noses.

“Brother Ray, hold your nose tight…”

Father Moro advised the inexperienced Ray, but he was already pinching his nose tightly.

“Sir, do you have something like mint powder? If you apply it under your nose, it should help.”

“Ah… I’ll try to save her.”

“???”

Ray seemed to have the know-how.

He strode towards the countess lying on the bed.

“Damn it.”

And then, he began to curse.

It was understandable.

Black.

A pitch-black darkness, devoid of even a hint of red, had taken hold inside the young lady.

“This is…”

“Yes, I felt it too.”

A dreadfully evil aura emanated from Lady Ophelia.

Both of them immediately recognized the malice that could be felt beyond understanding, through the skin.

A demon.

Ray made sure not to speak aloud, so as not to provoke the demon inside the lady.

Father Moro also quietly signaled to go outside to talk.

That’s when it happened. Bang! Someone flung the door open.

A man with a fierce look and a large build. His purple fur was notably impressive.

“Father…”

It was Ralph Violet, the Border Count of Violet.

“You lot… get away from my daughter this instant!”

The Border Count’s fierce gaze was directed at the two of them.