Chapter 3: Priestess Roberta(2)
It was summer when she entered Dithmarschen. Because it bordered the frigid lands known as the Ice Peninsula, the feeling of summer was faint. Even when the sky was clear and the sun beat down, the north wind was so fierce that it drove away the heat.
The center of the domain was the small city of Freiche, which was said to have originated from a hill fortress built long ago—back when the region's old name was forgotten and it was considered part of the Ice Peninsula—to block the descent of an evil god's creations.
As the temperature rose and the snow melted, people naturally migrated here. It was said to have become the central hub after the previous Lord, Hilde, developed the surrounding area using the fortress as a base.
Priestess Roberta viewed the full panorama of the hill and the city from a distance.
"They said the people here live like nomads. It seems that was true."
Below the hill, tent houses were pitched in an encampment.
They were the round tents commonly seen in nomadic cultures. Called Ger or yurts, they were houses made for easy assembly and disassembly by nomads who moved their homes with the seasons.
The territory of Dithmarschen was vast, but with the exception of its southernmost tip, the environment was ill-suited for farming. For that reason, they said, the people had no choice but to make their living through herding and hunting.
The Lord governs from Freiche Castle while the people live like nomads.
"There's no outer wall."
So there was only a small castle atop the hill. There was no outer wall whatsoever to protect the surrounding residences. After all, when the weather changed, the entire settlement would just pack up and leave.
'The temple must be inside the castle, right?'
A sudden curiosity, bordering on anxiety, arose in her.
If one of those scattered tents was the temple, wouldn't that mean she'd have to live as a wanderer for her entire term? A mobile temple... it was something she would naturally experience if she became a military chaplain, but she had hoped her first post, however small, would at least be made of stone.
She gave a hollow laugh at her own selfish thought and spurred her horse on.
"Where have you come from?"
A guard stopped her as she arrived at the castle gate.
"I am one who serves Ganimea, and I have come to see the Lord."
Roberta took off her glove and showed her palm.
A blue pattern appeared on her bare palm. It was the symbol of Ganimea, one of the gods of the Pantheon, and proof that Roberta had been ordained as a Priestess.
"Please wait a moment.
[MISSING]
A blue pattern appeared on her bare palm. It was the symbol of Ganimea, one of the gods of the Pantheon, and proof that Roberta had been ordained as a Priestess.
The guard went inside the castle and soon returned with a middle-aged man. The man was a southerner, with brown skin and red eyes.
'He's incredibly tall.'
Also, he was bald and quite tall.
He must have some Giant's blood in him.
Roberta herself was quite tall, so much so that men at the temple avoided standing next to her during ceremonies, but he was taller than her by two heads.
"Did you say you are a Priestess of Ganimea-nim?"
On top of that, his voice was a gravelly low tone. How could she not be frightened, with a giant looking down at her with red eyes and speaking in such a low voice? She calmed her startled heart and forced an awkward smile.
"Yes. My name is Roberta. I was sent by Alonso-nim, the diocesan head of the Nua Grand Temple."
"By Alonso-nim?"
The middle-aged man's voice rose.
"If you don't mind my asking, what is your relationship with Alonso-nim...?"
"Alonso-nim is the one who took me in."
"Ah, I see! He is as kind-hearted as ever."
Joy was evident in his voice.
"Is Alonso-nim well?"
"Of course. He asked me to tell you that he wanted to come himself."
"That would have been wonderful. It is a shame."
He kissed the back of her hand.
"My apologies for the late introduction. I am Bernhardt Meyer. Please call me Bern. By the grace of Lord Ulrich, I serve by his side."
Bernhardt introduced himself as the steward of the Dithmarschen family.
"Alonso-nim came here before my time. I remember he was just over thirty then... Now the time has come for his successor to arrive."
He spoke as if reminiscing.
"Time seems to fly so fast. My memories of Alonso-nim are still so vivid. He was a kind-hearted man who never shied away from difficult tasks and would lend a hand to children struggling with chores."
Compared to his intimidating appearance, his way of speaking was surprisingly gentle. Roberta thought that perhaps he was a kinder person than he looked, but his posture was the same as Alonso's when he was deep in thought, so she quickly spoke up.
"Um... I'd like to see the Lord."
•"He has stepped away for a moment. It will be some time before he returns. If you don't mind, I could show you to the temple in the meantime."
Roberta was about to agree when a question came to mind. Considering the Lord's age, shouldn't he be bedridden and ailing?
"May I ask what for?"
"He has gone to perform a Sacrament."
"A Sacrament?"
A Sacrament referred to the whole range of religious ceremonies. Births, rain rituals, and priestly ordinations were representative examples, and the types varied, ranging from as few as six to as many as twenty-three, depending on the sect of the Pantheon.
It was a rite that only a Priestess could preside over.
"Was there another Priestess here?"
ranging from as few as six to as many as twenty-three, the types were varied.
It was a rite that only a Priestess could preside over.
"Was there another Priestess here?
For a moment, she wondered if the missing Priestess had returned. That couldn't be. She hadn't been seen for nearly a year; there was no way she was still alive.
Did they invite a Priestess from a neighboring domain? It was a common method when a Sacrament could not be postponed and there was no responsible Priestess on site.
But Bern shook his head.
"No. The Lord will perform it himself."
"What do you...?"
Her eyes widened.
"Has the Lord been ordained?"
A look of 'oops' flashed across Bern's face. He then closed his mouth and subtly averted his gaze. Roberta's eyes grew even wider.
What is this nonsense, she practically screamed inwardly.
"He's really performing a Sacrament? The Lord, himself?"
Yes.
Roberta felt her mouth go dry. As if she had to check on someone who had fallen off a cliff, she barely managed to part her lips and ask.
"Wh-what kind of Sacrament?"
"The Infant Sacrament."
She stifled a scream and clutched her head with both hands.
'Of all the things...「
The Infant Sacrament was considered the most important of all the Sacraments.
In the beginning, the world was said to be covered in fire. In that time, when the land had not yet taken form, the gods came, drew water to extinguish the flames, raised the earth, and made life bloom.
But life was fragile and did not grow easily, so the gods scattered power throughout the world so that life could adapt to the harsh environment. That power was Mana.
The Infant Sacrament was the act of connecting a life to the Heavens so that Mana could dwell within a person. Some described it as having one's name recorded in the Register of the Heavens.
Unless a baby was too frail right after birth or had been abandoned somewhere in the mountains, it was a rite they were certain to receive. By receiving the rite, one was truly recognized as a person. Conversely, it also meant that one who had not received the Infant Sacrament was not treated as a person.
This was the Infant Sacrament, and that was why it was the most important rite.
What on earth was he thinking, performing the Infant Sacrament when he isn't even a priest...
What happens if someone who has not been ordained performs the Infant Sacrament? Usually, no problems arise from the rite, but on rare occasions—truly rare occasions—one might commune with an evil god.
The evil gods were beings who had opposed the principal deities of the Pantheon over the direction of creation and were cast into hell. The meaning of becoming one of their servants needed no explanation.
"If a person who hasn't been ordained presides over a Sacrament, they could be branded a heretic! You must know that, right? Ah, no, let's drop this."
She got back on her horse.
"Where is the Lord? I have to see him right now."
Roberta glared at Bernhardt. He awkwardly scratched his bald head. He looked as if he knew what the problem was, but unlike the heretics she had seen, he neither panicked nor made excuses. Not only him, but even the guard standing beside him showed little reaction.
"What in the..."
[MISSING]
Roberta glared at Bernhardt. He awkwardly scratched his bald head. He looked as if he knew what the problem was, but unlike the ones she had seen
At that, she was the one who was left dumbfounded.
"It's not far. Here, we gather the babies born since last summer and perform the Sacrament for all of them at once the following summer. If you head down from here for about half a day, you should be able to see him."
Bernhardt gestured to a soldier with his chin. As the man mounted his horse, Roberta quickly followed.
*
She went back the way she came.
Whether you'd call it bad luck or not, the rite was being held in a place a little to the east of the path Roberta had just traveled. She saw a group of people, and nearby, a flock of grazing sheep.
'Those aren't sheep. Is their blood mixed with that of a monster?'
From a distance, their fluffy white fur made them look like sheep, but up close, their appearance was more like a cow covered in wool. Having never seen or heard of such an animal, she concluded that its blood was mixed with that of a monster.
Dithmarschen and the uninhabited lands above it, the Ice Peninsula, were lands where the descendants of monsters born before the age of history still lived and breathed. It was probably common for grazing livestock to mate with monsters.
However, their wild nature is usually inherited, making them impossible to domesticate. She had never heard of them being tamed enough to be put out to pasture like this.
The Lord must have done this, too.
She frowned. The disappearance of the head priest, the heretical Sacrament, and now this village... it was difficult for her to think well of the Lord. If not for the recommendation from Alonso, whom she followed like a father, she might have rushed to the Pantheon and written a letter of accusation.
She spurred her horse. A group of people was gathered a short distance from the herd of livestock. Even from afar, she could tell some kind of ritual was taking place.
'If it's still in progress, I have to stop it.'
In the middle of the crowd, a woman was handing a swaddled baby to a young man. The baby, struggling not to be separated from the woman who appeared to be its mother, burst into tears the moment he took it in his arms.
Its cries were so loud they reached Roberta's ears. The young man held the baby, patting it gently to soothe it. The infant's sky-rending wails began to subside as she drew closer to the group.
"Where is the Lord?"
Roberta tore her gaze from the baby and scanned the crowd. She had to find the Lord. The three-hundred-year-old man, the scoundrel who performed Sacraments as he pleased.
But there was no old man in the crowd who looked like he could be the Lord. She slowly reined in her horse, circling the outskirts of the group, her eyes searching, but an unknown anxiety only grew in her heart. There was no old man she could definitively identify as him.
He's right over there.:
Over there?
When she turned her head again, it was to the sight of the young man from before, lifting the baby to press their foreheads together. On the surface, it looked as if he were just playing with the adorable baby.
Roberta was about to ask the soldier who had guided her just where 'over there' was when her eyes suddenly shot wide open.
"What......"
Red tendrils appeared on the baby's face and spread out in all directions.
Roberta was about to ask the soldier who had guided her just where 'over there' was when her eyes suddenly shot wide open.
Red tendrils appeared on the baby's face and spread out in all directions.
A soft light emanated from the point where their foreheads touched, seeping into the baby and flowing through its veins. The crowd gasped at the sight. And she, too, let out an involuntary sound.
Only the baby, oblivious to what was happening to its own body, giggled as if tickled and patted his cheeks with both hands.
'Impossible.'
Roberta couldn't believe it.
Mana does not settle in a person who has not received a Sacrament. If someone were to try to transfer their own Mana to another, it might settle temporarily, but only for a moment. Once the force compelling the flow of Mana disappeared, it would naturally disperse.
But that baby was accepting the external Mana as its own. Though its young body could only hold a minuscule amount of Mana, it did not expel any of it.
Why would that be?
Why would Mana settle in the baby?
Because its name was on the Register, because its name was carved in the Heavens, because it had been granted the right. 'This life is worthy of wielding the power scattered throughout the world by the gods.' In other words, the Infant Sacrament had been performed. And not through a connection to an evil god, but to the Heavens.
"H-How?"
How could he, not even a priest, inscribe a name in the Heavens? Was he some kind of saint, qualified to bestow a Sacrament without having been ordained?
It's impossible, she muttered, unable to even think of closing her gaping mouth. The suspicion that had been creeping up in a corner of her mind began to transform into certainty.
'They said the Lord went to perform a Sacrament.'
Then who is the young man in the middle of the crowd, performing the Sacrament?
The old priest had said it. The oldest half-blood he had ever seen was three hundred years old, and that Duke looked like a mummy.
Roberta had seen half-bloods before, and they looked much the same. Half-bloods had longer lifespans than humans, so they simply aged more slowly. But several hundred years was enough time for even a half-blood to lose their youth.
"Then, the Lord of Dithmarschen...?
The young man returned the baby to its mother and turned around. The crowd standing behind him parted, opening a path. Roberta remained frozen in her saddle until he reached the head of her horse.
"Did you come because you were worried? It seems Bern misspoke again."
Roberta suddenly recalled her conversation with the old priest.
She now understood why the old priest had tilted his head in confusion when she had referred to the Lord as an old man. And why he had called the Lord 'uncanny'.
No matter how she looked at him, he was too young.
He looked as if time had not touched him at all.
........
Roberta opened her mouth to say, 'You are...' She wanted to ask if he was the Lord of Dithmarschen. But when she tried to speak, the words caught in her throat.
Looking up at her, he said.
"Yes, I am the Lord of Dithmarschen, Ulrich, as you see
Looking up at her, he said.
"Yes. I am the Lord of Dithmarschen, Ulrich."
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