The Hunt of Arrogance
A long procession advanced along the main road.
More than sixty carriages stretched out in a single line, each one different in kind. Some were covered, others not; some had two wheels, others four; the number of horses pulling them varied as well.
And just as varied were the people. Travelers clung close around the caravan, walking alongside it. There were hundreds in total—merchants and the guards they had hired, travelers, refugees—people of every sort mixed together.
There were always those who attached themselves to a merchant caravan when it moved, but this one was particularly large, and the variety of people was unusual. It was likely because of the times. More and more people were being forced to leave their cities, and even traveling in groups no longer guaranteed safety.
Perhaps because of that, despite its length, the procession moved quickly. No one needed to urge them on; everyone hurried their steps on their own.
"I feel reassured with a priest traveling with us."
A plump-cheeked merchant spoke from atop his horse.
"We've made our own preparations, of course, but if a noble lord truly set his mind to coming after us, there would be no way to stop him. To be honest, I was thinking it would be better to have a priest like you with us than all these preparations."
Riding alongside him, Roberta shook her head.
"Even if you praise me like that, I won't be much help when something actually happens. I'm merely borrowing my father's prestige. As you know, brother, in these times, even being a priest doesn't guarantee tolerance."
The merchant let out a long sigh and pressed his forehead.
"Honestly… I don't understand how things have come to this. It feels like the world has changed overnight."
Roberta was near the front of the procession.
When she agreed to join, the merchants had gladly placed her at their side.
She had once joked, "It feels like I'm some kind of charm," and it had turned out to be true. Because of that, she now found herself listening to the merchants' complaints.
"They've all gone mad."
A large-nosed merchant spoke.
"As if it weren't enough to defy the Pantheon, now they even doubt the purity of His blood… Who could do such a thing without being bewitched?"
"Bewitched is a bit much. Come now. Who could possibly bewitch someone like the Emperor? And how would his subjects be bewitched?"
"Well, who knows? But if they can control dragons, why wouldn't they be able to control people?"
At those words, Roberta's eyes widened.
"A dragon?"
The merchants fell silent. They exchanged glances, clearly uneasy—like they hadn't expected her not to know, like they had misspoken. Avoiding her gaze, they shot looks toward the merchant who had mentioned it.
"…You haven't heard? The rumor that a dragon appeared in Sorebel."
"In Sorebel…? No. This is the first I've heard of it. Could you tell me more?"
He hesitated before speaking.
"It's only something I heard. When His Majesty personally led the army and fought a great battle in Sorebel, a dragon appeared in the sky and melted the imperial forces with flames."
"Is that all? No name, no description, no other details?"
"I heard its scales were pitch black, and it was so enormous that it made it seem like night had fallen… Ah, and the flames it breathed were said to be green."
Her expression hardened, and Roberta covered her mouth with her left hand.
"A rumor is just a rumor."
Seeing this, the merchants hurriedly added,
"Exactly. A dragon in our age? That's absurd."
"It must be nonsense. With so many rumors going around, of course one about dragons would be mixed in."
They were wary of angering a priest with such nonsense—but in truth, it was the opposite. The reason her expression had hardened was because she believed the rumor to be true. She could not dismiss it as mere gossip.
She had met the child of the primordial dragon, Luo beidra, on the Ice Peninsula, and had heard from Archbishop Giacomo about another dragon.
Perhaps the dragon that appeared in Sorebel was Kurvanoi—the one the archbishop had encountered.
"Are there any other rumors? It doesn't have to be about that dragon."
The merchants exchanged glances.
"Well… that's all that comes to mind right now."
A lie. They were deliberately avoiding the topic.
She clicked her tongue inwardly. She had been too hasty. She should have responded more casually, played along. With the authority of Kormilius wavering, they wouldn't dare openly share such rumors with a priest of the Holy Church.
Slowing her horse, Roberta looked around. She searched for Ulrich. Neither he nor Fritz was in sight. Where had they gone? They had been right behind her just moments ago, but now they were at the very rear of the procession.
"Sir Armin."
Calling out his alias, Roberta guided her horse toward them.
Several people in wide-brimmed hats were speaking with Ulrich. There were seven of them. From her position on horseback, she couldn't see their faces, but as she approached, they stopped talking and stepped back. Then they removed their hats slightly and bowed their heads.
The seven of them were Hongin—Red People. The name came from their truly crimson skin. It was unlike the way pale skin reddens under the sun. It was as if they were soaked in blood, or painted over—vividly red.
And on their heads, now revealed beneath their hats, protrusions jutted out. The number and size varied. Some were more pronounced than a knuckle, others left gaps like patches of baldness. The count ranged from one to six.
When Roberta returned the greeting with a light bow of her own, the Hongin quickly put their hats back on, hiding the protrusions.
Ulrich guided his horse slightly away from the procession.
"So, what is it?"
"I… heard about the dragon."
"A dragon appearing in the battle at Sorebel?"
She blinked and looked at him.
"You already knew…?"
"I just heard."
His gaze shifted toward the Hongin.
"Ah, I see."
Embarrassed, Roberta scratched the back of her neck.
"Then… I suppose you already know what I was going to ask."
"Isn't it whether the dragon Giacomo encountered and the one that appeared in Sorebel are the same?"
"That's right. What do you think?"
"My guess would be yes."
She asked if there was a possibility it was a different dragon.
"It's only natural that there are dragons I don't know. I stayed in Dithmarschen for too long, so there are bound to be gaps in my knowledge. Still, I find it hard to believe there are more than two or three. If their numbers had grown that much, they wouldn't be facing extinction today."
"So the dragons you know aren't the ones in question."
"As I said, they wouldn't step forward."
After watching him quietly, he continued,
"Didn't I say dragons are arrogant? Because of that arrogance, they try to reveal themselves. But once that arrogance is broken, they become more timid than anyone else. They hesitate, fearing they might meet the same fate again."
"That makes it sound like the other dragons have all been broken at least once."
At that, Ulrich let out a thoughtful hum and stroked his chin.
"Other than flying through the sky, they're really no different from oversized lizards."
A faint, involuntary laugh escaped her.
"Anyway… that's all I heard. I did try asking, but everyone seemed cautious."
"It can't be helped. You're an official priest of the Holy Church. Who would dare speak freely in front of you?"
He continued,
"I've heard various stories as well. But none of them are things you need to personally verify."
"Are those people trustworthy?"
"They're more trustworthy than those who filter their words out of caution. Is this your first time seeing the Hongin?"
"No. I've seen them occasionally—mostly at the Great Temple of Nua."
Roberta followed Ulrich's gaze.
He was looking at the Hongin walking while talking with Fritz.
"Since you've been using that name, you probably haven't seen them much, Ulrich."
"Rarely… but also closely."
She narrowed her eyes slightly as she examined him.
"…There must be another reason I don't know."
She asked the question with her gaze.
Ulrich gave a bitter smile.
"Do you remember the name Selim?"
"I couldn't forget that already. It's your alias, isn't it?"
In the second age of humanity, he had bought enslaved non-human races and freed them in the Kuiania Desert and the Esta-Mauneto Mountains. The name he used at that time was Selim.
"When I mentioned that, I believe I also said I bought races that were treated as monsters, as well as humans."
"I don't remember exactly… but they must have been the Hongin."
"They were only a part of it. Back then, they weren't called Hongin."
He added that they had simply been called monsters.
"Look at them. Skin as red as if painted with blood, and growths that will turn into horns if left alone. What were you taught as the reason for that?"
"That they were born where the flow of mana was distorted, and their appearance changed because of that—that's what the scriptures say."
"The scriptures say…"
He repeated the phrase as if savoring it.
"In truth, what's written in the scriptures is false. The ancestors of those children were servants of an evil god. It wasn't a mistake—they truly served it. And the children born from those servants were simply sold for a few silver coins."
And he had bought those slaves and set them free.
Roberta shifted her gaze back toward the procession.
"Why would something incorrect be written? Did you correct it, Ulrich?"
"I did not touch the scriptures. Once you correct one thing, you start wanting to correct others. The distinctions between canon, apocrypha, and heretical texts never sat well with me. I only told them what was true and what was false."
Which meant the one who recorded it had deliberately placed a lie into the scriptures.
"Then—"
"Kormilius. Who else would dare tamper with the scriptures but that family?"
"That's… unexpected. Even if other parts were altered, there would've been no need to distort the part about them being servants of an evil god."
She tilted her head.
Writing falsehoods despite knowing the truth would only introduce errors into the scriptures—what could they have intended? The Kormilius family she knew was not one to act without gain.
"Is it? To me, it seems only natural."
Before she could ask why, he continued,
"Roberta, you're viewing Kormilius through me. And what you've seen so far is their recent state. You've seen what they've become after breaking beyond repair. Because you don't know what they were like before they fell, you can't help but see them as they are now."
"…Are you saying the scriptures were altered out of goodwill? Not for personal gain?"
"They abolished the slave system that was widespread in the previous era, and granted freedom to many non-human races, including the Hongin. They even inserted falsehoods into the scriptures so those people wouldn't suffer from prejudice."
He added quietly,
"That falsehood didn't always lead to good results."
"At one time… they took greater pride in being descendants of Hestio than in any arrogance. They cultivated themselves so as not to tarnish that name, and held themselves to stricter standards than anyone else. So even when they made mistakes, they could return to their rightful place. At one time, at least."
This, too, was unexpected. Before and after being assigned to Dithmarschen, Roberta's view of Kormilius had changed greatly—but one thing had remained the same.
That they were rigid fundamentalists.
Yet the past Kormilius that Ulrich described was the exact opposite.
As she fell into thought, Ulrich also fell silent.
The two continued following the procession in silence.
Only after some time had passed did Ulrich speak again.
"There will be an attack soon."
Snapped out of her thoughts, Roberta lifted her head sharply.
"What?"
"I didn't join this procession just to observe them."
Roberta looked around. To attack a group this large—who would do such a thing? As the merchants feared, some noble?
Because of their numbers, they were harder to raid—but the reward was greater. A merchant caravan with dozens of cargo wagons—an opportunity to seize everything at once. A noble with power but no morals would surely be tempted.
"It won't be for plunder."
Ulrich guided his horse toward the middle of the procession.
A carriage for passengers was moving right beside them. There were cargo wagons in front and behind it, and a few carriages of similar shape further along.
Roberta studied them, then traced her gaze from the front to the rear of the procession.
Looking closely, among the sixty or so wagons, six or seven had similar shapes, though their colors differed.
Those were the ones Ulrich was following.
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