The Archer of Beast Woods

by Kanata Yanagino

“That is not the issue!”

  “Then what is?”

  “This is too sudden!” He slammed a fist against the desk again. “I will take him back with me and we will discuss this! Will you settle for that?”

  “Hmm, that will do fine. Discuss all you wish. But I would be truly happy to see this a reality, Bagley. I have taken a liking to this man.”

  “I had this when you gave me your support. I’ll thank you to keep me out of your ridiculous games!” he said at the top of his voice, then scowled at me and Menel. “You! Novice! We are leaving! Come along!”

  “Y-Yes!” I hurriedly stood from my chair.

  Hurricane Bagley was gone as quickly as it had come, and with that, my meeting with His Excellency Ethelbald, Lord of Whitesails, came to a close.

  ◆

  “Menaces causing me trouble, the lot of them...”

  Bishop Bagley griped constantly on our way back. Menel pretended to listen, but I could tell the clergyman was getting on his nerves. Yeah, these two were not going to get along.

  “Um—” I was about to step in and say something, but...

  “Especially you, novice! Did you not think to consult me before going off on your own...?!”

  As Bishop Bagley’s complaints became increasingly vehement, Menel finally started talking back. “Consult? Fig to that. We aren’t your pawns.”

  “What did you say to me?! I am the head of the temple!”

  “So what?!” They started quarreling, and after that, it was impossible for me to intervene. Gods, these two were like oil and water...

  As I watched them argue, the deacon who had been attempting to stop the bishop back at the lord’s mansion spoke to me. “I’m sorry about Papa. There are a lot of things troubling him recently, and he seems to be a little frustrated...” She had her flaxen hair loosely braided and was smartly dressed in a jacket, waistcoat, and long skirt.

  “That’s all right. I apologize on behalf of my companion. So, are you Bishop Bagley’s daughter, then?” I’d been wondering about that. True, as far as I was aware, there was no restriction on marriage for members of the clergy in this world, but was the bishop really married?

  “Yes, I’m his daughter. We’re not related by blood, though.”

  “So...”

  “Before being appointed here, my father was in the capital. He was in charge of running a temple with a large orphanage.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Exactly how he’d gotten the duke’s attention I had no idea, but somehow he had, and the duke plucked him from the capital and brought him here. I hadn’t known Bishop Bagley for long, but the incident at the mansion had taught me that he was capable of being pushy. Maybe the duke had judged that he would be well suited to running a temple in a remote region like this.

  “Many of my seniors and friends who left the orphanage found jobs back on the mainland. Papa helped them get into a lot of different places, but I and a dozen or so others followed him over here.”

  Not only did he have quite a few connections, he had some very loyal people under him as well. Although I’d been keeping an open mind about the man for a while, it was probably time that I formed a definite opinion.

  Outwardly, he looked corrupt, was terribly grumpy, and gave a ridiculous first impression—but despite all that, Bishop Bagley was probably quite competent.

  “Bishop Bagley.” I called out to the bishop, who was still arguing with Menel about something or other. "Thank you very much. You intervening really helped me.”

  “You think I did it for you?! I merely defended the temple’s authority from His Excellency’s self-centered actions. You come second!” Then he went back to grumbling about the duke and how he did outrageous things when something captured his interest.

  Bishop Bagley really did complain a lot. Even though getting all this off his chest was probably his way of staying sane, I felt like I understood why he didn’t seem well-liked within the temple.

  “But still, all that aside,” he said to me, “the authority of the common folk must be respected. Please remain in the chapel after Evening Prayer. We will discuss His Excellency’s proposal.”

  “All right, understood. Ah, but... umm...”

  “What now?!”

  “Sorry... What’s Evening Prayer?”

  A noticeable vein bulged on the bishop’s temple. There was a pause, and then he let loose a furious volley of insults.

  Yes, I’m really ignorant, I’m sorry...

  ◆

  Apparently, religious services had undergone a lot of reformation over the last two hundred years. All the daily cycle’s observances, which in Mary’s time had included Vespers, Compline, and several others, were now combined into something called Evening Prayer.

  Considering how multiple services had been combined into one and the language used during it had also been simplified, it seemed likely that the collapse of the Union Age had meant that some places hadn’t been able to maintain that complicated system of rituals. Also, the bishop and deacon both looked shocked when I told them that I knew about Vespers and Compline, so it looked like even those terms weren’t heard much anymore.

  “Were you studying with people who were familiar with the old liturgy?” he asked me. “A tribe of long-lived monks or something?”

  “Umm, yes. That’s more or less correct.” I wasn’t sure if becoming undead counted as being “long-lived,” but there was no doubt that Mary had been very familiar with the old ways of worship.

  “So you’re not completely ignorant, then.” Bishop Bagley hummed in thought. “Anna, there should be a book or two in the library that cover the revisions to the liturgy. Get them for me, and while you’re at it, see if you can arrange for a suitable teacher for him. Not only is this man a novice, he’s a relic of two centuries ago. This is going to take some effort.”

  I got the feeling he was deliberately bad-mouthing me again, but I couldn’t complain—he’d pretty much hit the bullseye. Behind the bishop, the deacon called Anna bowed her head repeatedly to me, looking really apologetic.

  After that, I returned to the temple, joined back up with Bee and Tonio, was subjected to a barrage of questions (mainly from Bee), and after dealing with a lot of other random tasks that needed to be done, I took part in Evening Prayer.

  Even though the people of the temple were still very busy clearing debris and treating the injured, it looked like none of them intended to neglect their daily prayer. They clearly felt that times of hardship were when it was most important to pray. I thought that was a very laudable attitude.

  The service was very solemn and impressive, but I felt a little uncomfortable. Everyone suggested good seats to me, and eyes flicked towards me from all directions. I wasn’t used to receiving hospitality like this or being the center of attention, so I never felt settled throughout the service.

  Once it was over, everyone left the chapel, and I waited there for a while in prayer. Soon enough, the bishop arrived. He’d apparently had an appointment to keep and had cut out on the scheduled prayer.

  “One moment,” he said. Then he got down on his knees, put his hands together, and prayed.

  In an instant, the atmosphere in the chapel, empty except for me and the bishop, completely changed.

  The bishop’s praying looked astonishingly natural. It was a beautiful sight, even though the bishop himself was far from so. I had never seen anyone look so in their element while praying before—no one, that is, except Mary. I found myself with my hands together as well.

  “Now then.” The bishop prayed for a far shorter time than I thought he would.

  “U-Um...”

  “What?”

  “Bishop Bagley, this has been on my mind for a while, uh...” I paused for a moment to choose my words. “You have definitely been blessed with a high level of protection from the gods, I can see that.”

  I had no doubt about that after what I just felt. I’d had a kind of sense of it ever since I first met the bishop, but now I fel
t confident saying it: the protection he’d been blessed with probably equaled mine, or even exceeded it.

  “But I heard from the people at the temple that you don’t use blessings. But if that’s what your prayers are like, then I think you either don’t let people see them, or you deliberately tone it down in front of them. Why is that?”

  “Hah. Idiot novice.”

  He insulted me...

  “What do you understand benediction to be, boy?”

  “Protection received from the gods.”

  “Then tell me, why did the gods bless you with protection? To give you special treatment? I hardly think so, do you?”

  I was silent.

  “It is because through you—do you understand this? Through you, the god has something they want accomplished. And we must constantly think of how to use our blessings in a way that is consistent with the desires of the gods who gave us our protection. Those who treat them like a tool to be used whenever convenient merely take away from the majesty of the gods; they do not add to it. The protection such fools receive only declines over time. Many of those nitwits fail to understand that. Because they do not understand, they remain forever novices, and eventually lose their protection.”

  The bishop was really sounding off about this.

  “I am the head of this temple. It is in a rough area that has only just started to be developed. To secure money and rights, we must shout and intimidate; to build consensus, we must do favors and use bribes. Imagine what it would do for me to parade around high-level blessings under those circumstances. The populace would think, ‘What are the gods thinking, giving protection to a man like that?’”

  He glared at me. “Let me ask you, boy, do you think that is consistent with what my guardian deity desires? Do you think that would be useful in raising the prestige of Volt, god of lightning and judgment?”

  “No.”

  “Precisely. No. In which case, the correct conduct for both blessings and prayer is to keep them stored away inside. I have left the spectacle of blessings and the promotion of the gods’ prestige in the very talented hands of the vice-bishop. He is also good at winning over the hearts and minds of the people. I can leave the bothersome and stressful task of being the pretty face of the temple to him.”

  Then, Bishop Bagley turned the conversation on me. “And what about you, greenhorn? Do you think yourself a ‘hero’ just because you killed a wyvern?”

  I couldn’t come up with a response.

  “A paladin,” he said, snorting derisively. “A paladin?! Here we have a stripling who still does not even understand what it means to be blessed, and he is to be called a paladin?! His Excellency does enjoy his jokes!”

  The bishop displayed his astonishment through exaggerated gestures, and because I honestly didn’t know how to respond, I just listened.

  “Boy. I can even tell him for you, if you like. If I refuse firmly, even His Excellency will surely let this go. Well...?” he asked, his tone overbearing.

  His stare and his large body worked together to give an intimidating impression that was no less than what I’d felt from the Duke of Southmark.

  “Put the idea to rest, greenhorn,” he said. “Nothing good will come of it.”

  “Even so...” I didn’t look away. I looked right back into the bishop’s eyes. “Even so, through me, my god is trying to accomplish something.”

  The bishop frowned and looked at me, his expression stern.

  “You will not budge?”

  “I will not.”

  “Fool.”

  “Probably.”

  “What did you swear to the god of flux?”

  “To dedicate my life to her, to drive away evil, and to bring salvation to those in sorrow.”

  “Rejoice. I have met many nitwits over the years, and you have exceeded them all.” He gave a massive sigh. “I will find a few people for you. You do the rest yourself.”

  I bowed my head very deeply and thanked him. No matter what anyone else said about this man, I decided that he had won my respect.

  ◆

  After that, the brakes seemed to come off, and everything became frenetic.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the bishop contacting the duke to inform him of our intention to accept his offer, while the solemn-looking priest that Anna had found lectured me on matters of etiquette and current ceremonial procedure for priests.

  The wheels had already been set in motion for me to receive my decoration. It was all happening terrifyingly fast. Was it really supposed to be this easy to receive a knighthood? I wondered what on earth had driven them to act with such unprecedented speed.

  That said, the damage the wyvern had done was not to be taken lightly; there were people who had lost their homes and jobs, and I’d heard whispers that they wanted a celebration that might create some temporary work. Ah, come to think of it, even in the ancient and medieval histories of my former world, new temples and shrines were erected whenever disasters occurred. There must have been aspects of wealth redistribution to that, too.

  In any case, if I was knighted, things would move a lot more quickly. People, money, and things—all would be easier to manage with authority and the power underlying it. When I thought about it that way, it didn’t feel terribly important that I’d be collared by the duke and the bishop. I didn’t think that those two would treat me too badly, anyway... probably.

  “Whence came he? And where trained, and where studied? Of him we know little, but that he is the disciple of the lost god of flux, and carrieth within him the divine torch.”

  This was probably a necessary step.

  “The depth of his faith equal to that of a bishop, the depth of his study to that of a sage. And dwelling in his arms, a strength without peer that crushed a wyvern. Through this man’s body, Souls of the three Heroes, do you intend your names of great renown to boom forth once more?!”

  Th-This was... necessary.

  “The Disciple of the Torch, the Wyvern Killer, the Peerless Powerhouse—the Faraway Paladin, William G. Maryblood. One and all, learn the names of the new Hero who appeared in the city of white sails! Hmm, that feels about right!”

  Okay, even if it was necessary, c’mon!

  “Bee, would you mind not practicing your story right in front of me?!”

  “Come onnnn. Don’t be such a sourpuss.”

  “It’s ridiculously embarrassing!”

  “That’s the level of what you did, so it’s your own fig fault! What’s she supposed to say?”

  “That doesn’t make it not embarrassing!”

  We were in our room at the temple. As the three of us talked and argued, Tonio quietly fiddled with an abacus. “Hmm.”

  “What’s wrong, Tonio?”

  “I am unfortunately coming to the conclusion that a large number of draft animals will be quite pricey, no matter what I do.”

  “Ah, about that...”

  Things had gotten really messy with all this knight business that came from me killing the wyvern, but I hadn’t forgotten my main objective. My goal was the same as ever: to hunt the demons of Beast Woods, and at the same time, do something about the economic issues of that area and promote the good name of the god of the flame.

  And to that end, I had a plan.

  “Oh? And what might that be?”

  “Could you look around for any animals that are sick or hurt, and do a bit of negotiating to buy them at a low price?”

  “Huh?”

  “Then I’ll heal them all.”

  “Oh...!” Tonio’s eyes opened wide.

  Yeah, I have been thinking about this, Tonio. This and all kinds of other things.

  The livestock merchant would be happy for the chance to sell off their sick and injured animals, and we would be happy because we’d get the animals we needed. As for the potential impact on the merchant’s future sales, the villages of Beast Woods were very cold and had extremely low purchasing power, so they wouldn’t have been big customers fo
r the merchant in the first place.

  I’d also get to save the animals that were suffering. They would continue to be draft animals and be put to hard work, so I couldn’t say if that was something to be happy about—but at least in theory, everyone would end up satisfied.

  In practice, the merchant would probably not feel too great that he’d sold off his injured stock only to have them healed right after, so we’d need to tread carefully there, but that was only a slight problem.

  “Also... it would be really helpful if I could keep relying on you for trading between Beast Woods and Whitesails... How much money do I need to put in?”

  Tonio put his hand on his chin and hummed in thought. “Will,” he said, “I think we need to sit down and talk business for a moment.”

  “B-Be gentle with me...”

  My to-do list was getting longer and longer. But I had only one objective, and I was ever progressing toward it. Gracefeel, I whispered in my mind, I’m doing okay. And I’ll do my best.

  I felt the quiet and expressionless goddess give the slightest of smiles.

  ◆

  It looked like a reasonably large inn. It had two floors; the bottom level was a bar, and upstairs, there were rooms for travelers. They were on the second floor, of course, to prevent sleep-and-runs. Some things are the same in every world, I mused.

  The sign hanging out front said “Steel Sword Inn,” and below it was a small banner with a weapons motif. That was apparently the symbol of an “Adventurers’ Lodge”—a gathering spot that also served to bring adventurers and jobs together.

  Adventurers were outlaws, making their livings as mercenary-like hired muscle, bodyguards, Union Age ruin-hunters, beast exterminators, and anything else that paid reward money. In terms of my previous world’s history, the professional gladiators of ancient Rome may have been closest, or perhaps the gunslingers in Westerns. Their social status wasn’t high, yet at the same time, it was a class that produced both heroes and fortunes in a heartbeat.

  It was evening, and the streets were full of laborers on their way back from work. Menel and I reached the inn, whose door had been left wide open, and we peered inside. There was already a din inside, despite the hour. We saw people wearing warm clothes—we were, after all, still in winter—clacking together horns filled with ale. But there was something a little strange about it.