Chapter 60

Recommendation to become an inquisitor.

On the outside, it was called a recommendation, but it was clear what intention was hidden inside.

‘They’re still suspicious.’

Callius didn’t know what exactly they suspected him of, only that they were still clearly suspicious.

However, his identity and position was now different than before, so they recommended him to become a heretic inquisitor on the surface, but their true goal must’ve been to get to interrogate him.

As long as they managed that –

They’d simply fabricate a sin even if one didn’t exist.

It was ridiculous.

He didn’t know why they kept on doing this, but he wasn’t fool enough to fall for such a shallow trick.

“Thanks for the suggestion, but…”

Just as Callius was about to respond –

Elburton, who’d been quietly listening all this time, spoke.

“Thank you, but no. My apologies.”

His voice was heavy.

With a trace of anger in it.

“May I ask why?”

Ryburn asked, a little nervously.

Although wounded, Elburton was still the Lord of the North.

The Pillar of Carpe.

As a knight with one foot into the realm of Masters, he deserved honour and respect.

Ryburn thought he knew what Elburton might say, but Elburton took a deep look at Callius and said something outside his expectations.

“Callius is the eldest and only son of Jervain. Now he must receive the education appropriate for a successor.”

Callius furrowed his brows at that deep, inscrutable gaze.

“You’re saying…”

“I mean that he is the man who will one day be responsible for Jervain, and for the northern lands. The succession ceremony will be held soon, so it’ll be difficult for him to become a heretic inquisitor.”

Elburton’s words surprised not only the inquisitor-captains, but also everyone else present.

Naturally, including Callius.

‘This is a bit too much.’

Although he’d had some expectations of becoming the next successor.

Because he’d demonstrated his worth.

Moreover, right now, nobody knew whether Callavan had been buried in the ground or ascended to heaven.

Since there was no reason to adopt another heir, it was natural for him to be selected for the position.

‘He even brought up the succession ceremony.’

If that took place, it’d be irreversibly set in stone, and he would become the next Lord of Jervain.

Not only would the Jervain patriarch’s position pass into his hands, but he would also inherit the title to these lands, which would be a bit of a hassle.

He wouldn’t be able to attack others without caring for the consequences, and every single one of his actions would be under a lot of scrutiny.

Even his words. Everything would become tinged with a political nuance.

Of course, it was still something he needed, but only after some more time passed. Right now was still too early .

The life of a wandering pilgrim suited him more at the moment.

‘For somebody with my characteristics, to become the Lord of the North?’

It was insane.

Of course, it was not only Callius who was nonplussed, but also the inquisitor-captains.

They’d thought they’d hit upon a brilliant idea, but Elburton’s one move was enough to overturn the whole table.

“Lord, have you not healed yet…?”

“I was wounded quite deeply in this last war. Since I felt death brushing so close, I’ve been thinking of stepping back and enjoying the rest of my life. Spending some time with my grandchildren would be nice.”

Elburton looked sincere.

Watching him secretly look at Emily as he talked, he really seemed to have changed his mind since his latest brush with death.

So it was Callius whose thoughts turned more and more urgent.

‘It might be better to become a heretic inquisitor.’

But that too came with a lot of annoying things, like being interrogated.

No matter how the interrogation ended, they wouldn’t stop probing him for weaknesses.

This way wasn’t good, that way wasn’t either.

Callius pondered for a moment.

‘Fine. After all, the northern lands are bound to grow in importance.’

There was Fatalite’s holy sanctuary, and Valtherus’ Tears had been planted there.

Not just that, there were still trolls hiding in the valley at the bottom of the Sinking Forest.

‘Besides, the North needs to grow further in power.’

It had to become stronger than it was now.

In order to resist the empire’s invasion in the future, increasing its military power was necessary.

However, the destruction of Carpe couldn’t be avoided solely with the North.

So.

“Then let’s do this.”

Callius spoke up, taking an alternate look at Elburton and Ryburn.

“After the succession ceremony. How about having me serve as a heretic inquisitor?”

“You mean…”

Heretic inquisitor, and the Lord of Jervain.

Both should be accepted.

Each had its pros and cons, but if you combined both, only the pros would remain.

You don’t have to be tied to the North, and if you become a heretic inquisitor, there is little chance that you’d be driven out as a heretic because of others’ envy.

Besides –

‘To cut out the rotten roots of Carpe, to save the kingdom itself.’

Was that not the true vocation of the inquisitors?

Besides, if he were to be the future ruler of Jervain and the North, who would inherit the count’s position…

‘They won’t dare try anything reckless.’

After all, Elburton wasn’t going to pass everything on to him right away.

“Are there any other problems?”

“… I see. Naturally not.”

Ryburn’s trembling cheeks were a tell-tale proof of his judgment.

Crackle, crackle.

The office inside the castle.

An awkward atmosphere surrounded Elburton and Callius.

They stood infinitely close, but somehow because of that, they seemed infinitely distant.

‘This reminds me of the past.’

Of his childhood.

Of the time when he’d burned down a farmer’s small three-room thatched cottage, to grill some skewers for eating.

‘That’s exactly how father looked like back then.’

Like the calm before the storm.

Elburton was silent, as if carefully choosing his words.

But his posture contained a silent anger that seemed unable to be hidden.

How long do I have to wait? Such were Callius’ thoughts as he got progressively more and more bored.

“What were you thinking?”

Elburton finally spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“To hold the succession ceremony and then become a heretic inquisitor! If you succeed the count’s title, you should be given a more serious position than a mere inquisitor.”

And yet Callius had just agreed to take the position.

Elburton frowned as if he couldn’t understand his son at all.

Although superficially, the inquisitors were known throughout the kingdom to be the ones to root out and interrogate traitors and heretics.

But in reality, they were just a group mired in the politics of the Church and the state.

One inheriting the title of a count, one of the few great noble titles of the kingdom, should not step forward to join their ranks.

“If you take my place, you will be the Lord of the North and a count of the kingdom.”

“I know.”

“And despite knowing that, did you just say that you want to become a heretic inquisitor in front of them?”

“I knew it, but I did it anyway. Thanks to me, you’ve made a lot of money. It’s fine if you don’t praise me, but blaming me is a bit too much.”

“You only see one side of the coin and ignore the other. There are many things in this world more important than money. If you pursue the honour established by your ancestors, money will follow you…!”

Elburton, who clenched his fists, took a deep breath and sat down on the chair.

“Think of the weight of your words, Callius. Based on your words and actions, Jervain’s prestige shall be built up or destroyed.”

“I’ll figure things out somehow.”

“… Cheeky. I thought you’d changed a bit, but there’s no difference.”

“Yes.”

Callius accepted his father’s words without the expression on his face shifting even the slightest, rather than getting angry. It was unbelievable.

‘Yeah, he’s different from before.’

The situation was different from the past, when they’d faced each other after one of his son’s crazy escapades.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking. But… I won’t ask. Please don’t forget that the spirit of the North, the blood and sweat of your ancestors, resides in your heart.”

Having said that, Elburton took out an old-fashioned key from his bosom and threw it.

Hwik, cheok.

It was quite big and heavy.

The material looked like stone, but it didn’t seem to be an ordinary object.

“What’s this?”

“It’s the key to our treasure house, that successive generations of family heads have guarded for centuries.”

Jervain’s heirloom –

Callis, couldn’t be handed over yet.

“You are now Jervain’s official heir. Choose what you want and take it.”

Jervain’s treasure vault.

‘I hope I’ll pass this on to you one day.’

Jervain’s treasure trove where their artifacts, as well as the swords transformed rom carcasses, are displayed.

A treasure trove that only the successive heads of household, and the most outstanding among their direct descendants, can enter.

“You will be the second in your generation.”

The first was probably –

“You’ve been wandering around as a pilgrim. Have you heard of Violet’s whereabouts by any chance?”

“I haven’t.”

“Is that so…”

An awkward silence followed.

Violet von Jervain.

Callius’ younger sister.

‘According to the setting, she leaves the family after Callius goes to the Church.’

Unlike the eldest son, she has a talent for swordsmanship, but she has no attachments to the sword, so she suddenly left the kingdom one day and started wandering around.

If you’re lucky enough to meet and become friends, she acts like a wandering merchant who sells you strange items.

‘She’s probably in the empire right now.’

Violet’s personality was like that.

She won’t intervene whether Carpe fell or the empire, so Callius didn’t have to worry about her.

“That’s all you wanted to say?”

“Well, yes.”

Now that he’d received the key to the treasury, Callius wanted to escape this awkward atmosphere as soon as possible, to go see the swords of the previous patriarchs.

Just as he grabbed the doorknob –

“Callius.”

“…”

Turning around, he saw Elburton standing at the widow, looking out.

“I still have one more thing to say.”

“Then say it.”

“For saving Jervain and the North, you have my sincere thanks.”

“… I see.”

Cheok.

Callius hurriedly shut the door and left.

Elburton muttered, as if to himself.

“What do you think?”

The old man who’d been secretly hiding nearby, appeared.

The butler of the Jervain family.

Nochtel.

“If we use the heretic inquisitors to turn all the orc corpses into carcasses, we can make a great profit. Assuming seven tenth carcass swords and three tenth life swords, it’ll come to at least 60,000 gold coins.”

“We can’t just sell everything off.”

“If we sell half the carcass swords and leave out the life swords, it’ll still be over 20,000 gold coins.”

“It’s just gold. But it’s definitely an appropriate amount to patch the insufficiencies of our military power.”

With that amount of money, it would be possible to repair the broken walls and restore the entire northern estates to some extent.

Besides, the life swords would be perfect as rewards for the knights who’d been active in this war.

Elburton’s lips twitched. His wallet had been strapped for money due to the war, but Callius solved the problem with only a few words.

“Besides, don’t we still have the warlord’s body in good condition?”

“Right.”

If the warlord’s body were turned into a carcass –

Wouldn’t a spirit rank weapon be born?

Of course, it’d belong to Callius, but he would soon become the Master of the North anyway, so that didn’t matter.

“Lord, no, master, I think you don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

Elburton’s stiff expression, which had never relaxed while he’d been facing Callius, loosened up in an instant.

“He still resembles me, though. He’s got my wit.”

“It was like seeing the lord of the past. That power to deal with the orc warlord, and then turning crisis into opportunity to get the maximum benefits.”

“After all, blood will tell in the end.”

Although Elburton’s face was still stoic, Nochtel didn’t miss the twitches at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s a little late, but now he looks like a proper Jervain.”

“Nochtel.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Guide Callius inside the treasury. Because there are some treasures that can be dangerous depending on how you use them.”

Nochtel was startled.

All the treasures in the treasury are ones used by the patriarchs of old. They each have their own stories and accompanying martial arts.

If you just blindly choose a weapon overflowing with energy inside Jervain’s treasure vault, its consciousness might release itself and show you something bizarre and traumatizing.

“Isn’t it tradition that you can’t say anything about the treasure house?”

“They’ll all belong to him anyway in the end, so what’s the point of that?”

Nochtel’s lips twitched.

Although the lord pretended to be indifferent, this was bias alright[1].

“Very well.”

The old butler, Nochtel, left the office, no expression on his face.

Editor’s Notes:

[1] 팔은 안으로 굽는 (lit. arms bent inward), showing bias or nepotism for those close to you.