Chapter 563: Chapter 550: Contempt for the holy
[Realm: Álfheimr]
[Location: Heart Kingdom]
[Pulchritudo]
Pastor Nicholas and the nun Catherine.
Those were the names of the two people who had welcomed them into the old church.
They had introduced themselves with genuine sincerity, almost with an eagerness that Mikoto immediately noticed. It was not difficult to understand why. A visitor who not only knew of their faith but also recognized figures and symbols that should have been completely unfamiliar within this world was not something they encountered often.
In fact, Mikoto suspected it was probably something they had never encountered before.
Their curiosity had been obvious, though neither of them had been rude enough to overwhelm him with questions.
Mikoto found that somewhat surprising.
Most people who discovered something unusual about him either became overly cautious, overly fascinated, or attempted to pry into things that were none of their concern.
Nicholas and Catherine had done neither.
They had simply welcomed him.
Now, after their introductions, Mikoto found himself sitting leisurely within one of the old wooden pews.
One armored sabaton rested over his opposite leg, his posture relaxed despite the weight of the armor he wore. The old church creaked softly around them, the distant sounds of the city barely reaching through the thick walls.
Robert remained standing nearby.
Unlike Mikoto, he seemed perfectly content not to sit. Perhaps out of respect for the church, perhaps because he was simply more comfortable keeping watch.
Either way, he said nothing.
At the front of the church, Pastor Nicholas was still occupied with the remaining demi-humans who had stayed behind.
The old man spoke with each of them patiently.
There was no trace of impatience in his voice despite the long day. Every person received the same attention, the same kindness, and the same gentle smile.
Mikoto watched him for a moment.
The man was different from most religious figures he had seen.
There was no performance or any attempt to appear holy.
He simply helped because he wanted to.
"He seems to be a natural at this," Mikoto murmured quietly.
His red eyes remained on Nicholas; the pastor moved among the demi-humans like someone who had done this countless times before.
"Father Nicholas has always been that way." Catherine’s soothing voice came from beside him. "He has never been the sort of person who can simply walk past someone suffering and pretend not to notice. He believes that if he has the ability to help someone, then ignoring them would be its own kind of failure."
Mikoto shifted his gaze slightly as she approached; she placed two cups of tea onto a small round table positioned in front of him. The gesture was simple but clearly meant as an act of hospitality.
"Though I must apologize. This is hardly the hospitality you would expect from a proper church," Catherine said, her expression becoming slightly apologetic. "Some of our rooms have fallen into terrible condition and are in desperate need of repairs. Unfortunately, this area is one of the few parts of the church that remains stable enough to receive guests."
A small, sheepish smile appeared on her face.
"We are not accustomed to having many visitors."
"Think nothing of it, my lady." Robert gave a slight bow of his head, accepting the gesture with genuine appreciation. "The journey to reach Pulchritudo was not exactly a short one. After everything we have encountered along the way, a warm drink and a place to rest are already more than enough."
Catherine’s smile warmed.
"You are too kind, Ser Robert." Her eyes moved between the two of them. "But I must admit..." She paused briefly. "You two certainly make quite the unique pair; you are rather eye-catching."
He immediately understood who that statement was mainly directed toward; his eyes briefly shifted toward him. Mikoto still sat there completely composed, seemingly unaware or perhaps simply uninterested in the attention he naturally drew.
"You should see our other company," Robert murmured quietly.
The comment was low enough that Catherine did not quite catch it; she tilted her head slightly in confusion. However, after a moment, her attention returned to Mikoto.
"But I must say..." She hesitated; her blue eyes studied him carefully. "Forgive me if this sounds inappropriate, but you..." She paused, searching for the correct words. "I have met many beautiful people throughout my life. All individuals who were praised endlessly for their appearances."
Her expression softened.
"But you are different." She gave a small, almost embarrassed smile. "It is difficult to describe. Looking at you almost feels like looking at something that should not exist among ordinary people. It is almost like seeing a real Angel."
Mikoto’s expression barely changed.
However, when his red eyes returned to Catherine, there was still a calmness in his gaze.
"You’re too kind." Even with his indifferent expression, the words sounded strangely graceful. It was almost unfair how naturally his appearance contradicted his personality. Someone who spoke so bluntly should not have possessed a presence that made even simple words seem elegant.
"But tell me something." Mikoto leaned slightly back. "What made you believe in God?"
The question was direct.
Most people would have hesitated.
They would have searched for the safest answer, the most appropriate answer, or the answer they thought someone wanted to hear. Catherine did not; she considered it immediately. It did not seem like she had prepared an answer. Perhaps the reason was something she had carried for a long time.
"I suppose you could say Father Nicholas saved me." Her smile softened as she folded her hands together in front of herself. "Before I met him, I did not really understand what faith meant."
She looked toward the pastor.
"To many people, belief is simply something they inherit. Something they are told to follow." A small smile appeared. "But Father Nicholas never treated it that way. He showed me through his actions, and he helped people who had nothing to offer him. He cared for those who had been abandoned. He offered kindness even when kindness was not returned." She looked back at Mikoto. "He is a man with more warmth than anyone I have ever known."
Her eyes briefly moved toward the pastor.
"And his devotion..." She smiled softly. "It was impossible not to be moved by it."
Mikoto was quiet for a moment.
"God does have that kind of influence, I guess."
The words sounded casual and almost dismissive. But Robert noticed it again, that brief flicker. That small change in Mikoto’s eyes. A trace of something else, something that did not belong with the rest of his expression.
It vanished almost instantly.
But Robert had seen it.
Again.
He raised a brow slightly but chose not to comment. Whatever that feeling was, Mikoto clearly had no intention of explaining it.
"But forgive me." Catherine offered a small bow. "I should return to Father Nicholas and help with our remaining guests." Her expression remained warm. "It was a pleasure speaking with you."
She turned gracefully, her robes shifting slightly as she walked back toward Pastor Nicholas.
Robert watched her leave.
"The nun’s quite the beauty," he murmured. "And she’s kind too."
Mikoto immediately looked toward him.
"Are you aiming to become a womanizer next?" His tone was dry. "Or I suppose you’re really just trying to determine whether she’s useful for whatever plan you have."
Robert sighed.
"Must you always assume the worst?" He shook his head slightly. "I am not so cruel as to simply use people whenever it benefits me." His gaze shifted toward Mikoto. "Besides, where did that gentle voice of yours disappear to?" A faintly amused expression crossed his face. "Why does everyone else get to hear that calm, pleasant version of you while I receive nothing but insults?"
Mikoto ignored the comment; instead, his red eyes returned to the painting he had pointed out earlier.
The image of Michael.
The Angel with the sword.
"I wanted to see something." His answer was vague; Robert followed his gaze toward the painting.
"But I have noticed that distaste of yours." Robert’s voice was quieter as he made the observation.
He had spent enough time around Mikoto now to recognize the small changes in him. The small shifts in his expression. The brief moments where his usual attitude slipped and something far more severe showed beneath it.
His eyes moved toward the painting of Michael again before returning to Mikoto.
"You’re not exactly someone who hides your opinions," Robert continued. "So I have to ask, are you simply not fond of this faith?"
Mikoto did not answer immediately. For once, there was no quick insult or a dismissive remark.
He simply remained quiet.
His red eyes stayed fixed ahead, though it was clear his attention was no longer on the painting itself.
Robert watched him carefully.
It almost seemed like Mikoto was deciding whether answering was worth the effort. Whether explaining something so personal to someone else was more troublesome than keeping it buried.
After a few moments, Mikoto finally exhaled softly.
"It’s not exactly my distaste." The answer was simple, but Robert immediately noticed the wording.
That meant there was more; Robert gave him a questioning glance.
Mikoto noticed but continued.
"Have you ever harbored hatred that wasn’t yours?" His question came unexpectedly.
Robert blinked slightly.
"Or something similar," Mikoto added, his tone quieter. "A feeling that exists inside you, but when you look at it honestly, you know it didn’t truly come from you."
Robert was silent for a moment; he looked back toward the painting. He understood the question, but not where Mikoto was leading him.
Still, he considered it seriously.
"For the first part..." Robert paused. "I cannot say that I have." His emerald eyes remained on the painted figure. "I have carried the anger of people close to me. I have understood why they hated certain things. I have watched people I cared about suffer and felt their rage because of it."
A small frown touched his expression.
"But that anger was never truly mine." He tapped his fingers lightly against his arm. "I suppose the closest I have come would be carrying the ideals of those beside me." A pause followed. "Believing in things because the people around me believed in them." His expression became slightly more thoughtful. "Even when, deep down, I was not entirely certain those beliefs belonged to me."
Mikoto listened.
Then he spoke.
"Imagine that feeling..." He slowly raised his right gauntleted hand, looking at it for a moment. "Except multiplied." His fingers curled slightly. "Not a little stronger, not something you can simply ignore. A hundred times worse."
The words were simple and too light for what they implied.
"Let’s just say..." Mikoto lowered his hand slightly. "There are emotions inside me that shouldn’t be there." A brief silence followed. "Things that have been festering." His gaze shifted back toward the painting. "Feelings that I know are real, but at the same time, they don’t feel like they belong to me."
Robert remained quiet.
For someone who constantly acted detached, Mikoto had just admitted something surprisingly personal.
"I’m surprised you’re telling me this." The statement was not judgmental, more curiosity than anything.
Mikoto immediately looked back toward him.
"Don’t get the wrong idea." His tone returned slightly closer to his usual self. "You’re just the closest thing to normal here."
Robert raised a brow.
"Normal?"
"Compared to the others," Mikoto began counting them off almost casually. "Gretel has her own baggage. " His expression remained neutral. "The oni would probably just tell me to accept the challenge and move forward." A slight annoyance entered his voice. "And the monster, she’s annoying."
Robert almost smiled at the bluntness.
Almost.
Mikoto lowered his hand completely and leaned back slightly, his head tilting as his red eyes settled on Robert.
"But don’t mistake this for me being vulnerable." His voice was firm. "This isn’t some heartfelt confession." A small frown touched his rosy lips. "I’m not suddenly opening up or whatever you think is happening."
He looked away.
"I’m just venting. There’s something annoying me, and talking about it is slightly less annoying than keeping it in my head."
Robert studied him for a moment; the explanation was very much like Mikoto’s. Even when admitting something personal, he still had to frame it as an inconvenience. As if acknowledging the importance of his own emotions was somehow more embarrassing than carrying them.
"Well, if you say so." Robert’s voice held a little amusement. "But regardless..." He looked back toward the painting. "It’s strangely human of you."
Mikoto’s eyes shifted slightly.
Robert continued.
"Having problems you cannot simply cut away." A thoughtful expression crossed his face. "Being bothered by things you cannot solve with strength alone." He glanced at Mikoto. "For someone who constantly acts as though nothing can reach you, it is strangely reassuring to know there are things that trouble you."
Mikoto did not immediately respond.
Comments