Chapter 17: Steven. Not an Ægir
"You are…?"
Even though he had already considered countless possibilities in his mind, the man the inquisitor girl addressed as sir ultimately chose the most direct approach and asked this mysterious outright.
Steven stops rubbing Gladiia's small head. He looked up with interest and met the masked man's gaze.
Putting everything else aside, that outfit was seriously cool. So cool, in fact, that he suddenly felt the urge to collect a similar set for himself someday.
Secondly—more importantly—he could clearly sense the intense caution in the man's eyes. He mentally scratched his head, feeling genuinely puzzled.
Have I met this guy before?
Why was he looking at him like he was some kind of ferocious beast?
"Sir," the girl spoke up before Steven could say anything, "these two Ægir were trying to escape together with the village chief who had been cooperating with the Church of the Deep. After encountering me, they voluntarily… surrendered."
Even knowing how absurd that sounded, she still chose to report the facts to her superior.
"He didn't resist at all. In fact, even that man was subdued by him personally." She pointed at the old man who had already passed out from excessive blood loss after his manic outburst. "Based on my judgment, I believe he's not affiliated with this village."
Her tone was firm and serious.
Although this man who called himself Steven was utterly incomprehensible in terms of logic and behavior, there was one thing she was absolutely certain about.
From beginning to end, he had never shown any hostility toward her.
Even at the very start, when he had been misled by the village chief, he had only taken a neutral stance, there was never any intention to fight her.
"Good," the masked man said, nodding slightly as if in agreement. "Once an inquisitor makes a judgment, they must have faith in it. Do not waver because of outside factors."
As though reassured by her assessment, the caution in his eyes toward this 'Steven' eased noticeably.
It was clear that he trusted his subordinate deeply, enough to believe a stranger wasn't an enemy based solely on her evaluation.
Steven, meanwhile, couldn't help but feel that the relationship between these two might not be limited to simple superior and subordinate.
Judging by the bird feathers poking out from the man's hair…
Don't tell me they're father and daughter?
A dad taking his daughter out to grind experience and build her résumé?
Just as Steven was entertaining himself with these random thoughts, the man suddenly walked straight up to him.
After briefly glancing at Gladiia—whose condition was clearly far from normal—he shifted his attention back to Steven.
"Greetings. I am Dario, High Inquisitor of the Inquisition," the man said calmly. "And that over there is my subordinate, Inquisitor Irene."
Just when Steven was expecting some kind of stern warning—or perhaps being arrested on the spot—the man instead extended his hand and formally introduced both himself and the uniformed girl beside him.
The whole situation instantly went from law enforcement confronting a dangerous individual to a perfectly ordinary social introduction.
"Uh, hello," Steven replied reflexively. "Steven. Not an Ægir."
Since the other party had been so polite, Steven felt it would be rude to keep messing around. Toward people with a good attitude, he was always willing to respond in kind.
He shook Dario's hand, deliberately emphasizing his race.
Call him a block-man if you want, but Ægir? No way. That was a classification error he absolutely could not allow.
Who knew how serious racial discrimination might be in this world? If he didn't clarify things early, he might end up saddled with a massive black pot from the moment he arrived.
So if there was a chance to explain it clearly, better do it sooner rather than later.
"Then, Mr. Steven," Dario said calmly, "given the contradictory circumstances surrounding your involvement with this village chief, would you be willing to accompany us to the Inquisition for a discussion?"
His tone was nothing like someone about to haul a suspect off to jail. If anything, it sounded more like a friendly invitation between equals.
Only Dario himself knew the truth.
The pressure radiating from the seemingly carefree young man before him was something he had never felt before. Not even his own mentor—Carmen, one of Iberia's twelve Saints—came close to inspiring this level of unease.
Steven claimed he wasn't an Ægir? Dario believed him.
Even if Steven were one of those nameless horrors from the deep—creatures whose very names could not be spoken—Dario wouldn't have doubted it for a second.
The only comforting point was that this Steven appeared highly rational—and, unexpectedly, quite easy to talk to. That was the main reason Dario had adopted such a cautious and courteous attitude.
After all, the duty of the Inquisition was not to provoke monsters shrouded entirely in mystery.
"I don't really mind," Steven said with a grin. "Anywhere's fine for me right now. But clearly, this isn't the time to worry about that, is it?"
He was genuinely curious to see what the Inquisition—described by the old man as a den of monsters—was actually like. And as a state-level organization, they might even be able to help him dig up some information about that… Rhodes something.
But just as he said, that was all for later.
Right now, the real problem was obvious—
How were they supposed to break through the swarm of bizarre monsters that were already emerging from all directions around the village, closing in on them from every side?
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M