55 – Priest, priest. Our priest.

The unwrapped carriage ran across the plain.

Perhaps that’s why, the sunlight warmly licked the helmet.

I was the only passenger in the carriage.

I gladly lay down on the floor, and the soloist I was lying on with me rolled around and gave off a beating light.

Now the sun was warmly sweeping over us.

But, I couldn’t warm myself up.

It was in the middle of a human-sun drying while lying down in the wagon compartment for a long time.

“The weather is nice.”

A soldier driving a wagon came to talk. Judging by his tone, he must have been quite bored before.

“That’s right. On a day like today, you have to lie down somewhere.”

“That’s good. Where are you from? It would be nice if you could talk to me on the way.”

With those words, a brief conversation began.

The light-mouthed coachman skipped even audible statements and immediately started complaining about his life.

His life story that he was about to quit his job, but the sudden outbreak of the Battle of Yeongji, made me feel as if North Korea fired a missile during his last year of vacation.

“By the way, why did this Yeongjijeon happen?”

“If I had known that, would I have driven the carriage? It would have been nice to have been riding in the back car.”

I didn’t mean to you. It was a word that the coachman spat out as if stabbed.

“Eh, when this job is over-“

“I’ve been doing this for 5 years, so I recommend not saying that.”

The coachman, taking my advice, began to tell the story of the town we were going to instead of planning his old age.

“There is nothing special about that village.”

“You start off pretty straightforward.”

“How can the truth be like that?”

That’s what the coachman answered.

The carriage was fast. His reproaches were blown away by the sound of the wind, and he added one last word.

“But there is only one special thing about the town we are going to.”

The coachman was excellent at raising people’s expectations.

“What is it?”

You’re not saying ‘it’s special that there’s nothing special’, right?

“This is the church we are going to.”

“I see.”

At the cathedral here, they seem to give you even strawberry moncher.

Or maybe that coachman is a surprisingly faithful believer.

“The priestess who is staying in that village for a while is pretty.”

…I guess not.

“Really.”

At the words of the coachman, I was worried that the new punishment would fall on this carriage.

“By the way, why are you going to pick up the priest?”

The coachman asked curiously.

The answer was simple, and not particularly confidential.

“Because I have to consecrate the body.”

Newspaper, Cafe Mocha, Goblin, and Cardboard House.

In this world where everything is mixed, of course the undead also exist.

I’m not an expert on that, so I don’t know, but at least there’s one thing I know.

– After the Battle of the Territory, you must call the priest to consecrate the land and the body. To be precise, after the battle.

Hwaran told me the reason right away.

The resentment gathers and the undead appear in places where war breaks out or people die horribly.

Usually at most something like a skeleton or a zombie pops out, but he also said that sometimes a high-level undead might come out.

That’s why in the northern part where the Battle of the Territory is regarded as a duel, after the Battle of the Territory was over, the priests were always called to consecrate the land and the corpse.

Although there was no sign of a battle in the cave we were in, no one could deny that their deaths were gruesome.

If you think no, try it once and let me know.

So, the fair Count gave us a bottle of hard liquor and deep consolation.

He gave a tearful speech to the weeping families holding on to the skin of the corpses and the back of a mercenary going to call a priest.

The reason I went to call the priest was known to the villagers as simply consecrating the victims to go to a good place.

Of course, there was a reason to prevent the corpses from turning into undead, but the lord didn’t dare to say it, and he didn’t correct the thoughts of the residents.

Sometimes it’s better to hide something.

“I see.”

And the coachman, who had not seen the scene before, listened to my answer and only covered the back of his head.

“Somehow. I saw earlier that some of the villagers were crying so sadly.”

It’s unfortunate.

Speaking those words, the driver focused on driving the wagon again.

It’s unfortunate.

I also put the words out of my mouth.

Yeah, that’s unfortunate.

***

It is quiet.

If there is a contest that expresses the first impression of Miley Village in a single word, I wondered if that would be the target.

A country chicken, who might be someone’s livestock, was scooping out the ground with its beak, followed by chicks.

“The cathedral is over there. If you walk, it’s 5 minutes, if you go by carriage, it’s right there.”

As the coachman, who had been yawning, started driving the carriage again, I stopped him.

“I think I can go there by myself.”

“There won’t be much to see.”

“Isn’t it at least more than inside the military camp? If you park it near me, it will come and go on its own.”

For him, it was an unobserved complaint, so the coachman moved the wagon to a nearby shade.

He gave directions with his fingers and quickly fell asleep.

I got off the carriage. The sound of grains of sand being dragged came from the soles of the shoes.

Beep.

When I turned my head, the chicks who were hanging out near the sleeping mother were looking at me.

“Hello.”

After receiving my greeting, the yellow lumps tilted their heads and started chattering among themselves again.

It looked peaceful, so I put my helmet and sword on the wagon.

The sound of “Delgeureuk” Came in quite cheerfully.

I entered the village feeling a little more peaceful.

And.

-There won’t be much to see.

The coachman’s assessment was correct.

In the village where there was almost no crowd due to farming, only the barking of dogs could be heard from time to time.

But it was good.

That glass window with old dust gathered around the rim because the window wasn’t cleaned properly, and the dirty wooden horse next to the front door.

From far away, children running and clattering with only their chests and heads forward in a hurry.

Even the mother dog, whose elongated, wagging tail slid across the ground, shows her feelings of wanting to run amok with her children in that sad expression with her tail waving more and more.

It was just nice. There was no reason other than that.

-There won’t be much to see.

The coachman’s evaluation was wrong.

***

The cathedral in Miley Village was small.

In the Hebrides, the second largest building after the castle was the cathedral, but it was different here.

The doors of the cathedral were locked.

In front of this solemn space where people come to ask God for directions, as I don’t believe in Him, if I dare to go to find a priest, he can’t ask where to go.

“Priest, priest. Our priest. Where can I go to find it?”

Muttering that, I stood blankly in front of the cathedral, kicking the stones off the floor.

“Hey, brother?”

Someone with an oriole-like voice tapped my back. That is until you knock.

“Yes?”

I turned around and saw a priestess in a loose white priestly robe looking up at me.

She was a girl in a puppy top who seemed to be in the early 160’s and with a blonde bob cut that looked good on her.

In both hands, she was holding a ripe red apple and an incense burner hanging from a chain that looked like a Mass. She had a different charm than the Prianian squad leader.

I don’t have a hobby of distinguishing people’s appearance, but if the squad leader is the moon, this person might be the sun.

A smile continued to linger on his lips, showing the illusion that the surroundings were brightening.

But the most remarkable thing was her breasts, which were draped over the baggy clergyman’s clothes and made to stand out.

Is there a separate creation of the world? If you create a mountain on a plain, that is the creation of the world.

‘What am I thinking right now?’

While she was suddenly crying her blasphemous thoughts, she opened her mouth again.

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“Mass time is already over. Did you come to pray?”

The priestess asked, her golden eyes shining with divine equanimity.

“No.”

I shook my head.

“Is that so!”

I looked slightly regretful, but I couldn’t lie.

I took out a letter from my chest.

“Could I see the person in charge of this church, by any chance?”

“What are you doing?”

Her eyes widened slightly.

It’s not a shady meaning, it’s like what should I say.

Should I say it’s like a dog wagging its tail friendly?

After erasing the strange thoughts I heard again, I opened my mouth.

“The introduction is late. My name is Golfian G-House.”

The priestess stared at me without saying anything.

“By order of the Count, I have come to find a priest who will consecrate the bodies so they can go the right way.”

“I see!”

She nodded her head broadly.

For a while, I felt curious about that dog-like behavior, but I went to the main topic.

“We are looking for a priest in charge of this church. Is the priest in charge of this place?”

“No!”

The answer was short and bold, which was a talent Hwaran would like.

“Let me guide you to Priest Eliot, who is in charge of this place! Previously.”

After saying that, the priestess handed me an apple.

The apples, shiny as if soaked in sunlight, looked very desirable, and on top of them, a golden light seemed to shimmer.

After receiving it from her, she asked her.

“Thank you, but what is this?”

Is missionary work reduced to an apple these days? When I was young, I gave you a chicken leg in front of school.

“It’s an apple!”

The priestess laughed brightly, and she exclaimed loudly.

My God, who do you know as an idiot?

“I see.”

But I couldn’t help but nod my head. It was like rejecting someone’s favor, and it’s been a long time since I haven’t eaten an apple.

“Because it’s an apple for breakfast!”

“It is daytime, priest.”

“One apple during the day is fine!”

At that answer, I could only nod my head.

Only then, she smiled wider and looked back at me with an oops before opening the cathedral door.

“My introduction is late!”

“Yes.”

After saying that, the priestess placed her hand on her chest.

I averted my eyes from her swaying something.

“I am Elisir Lien, the priest of the sun god. G-house mercenary!”

“Nice to meet you, Priest Rien…”

As I was about to return, I felt something strange.

I never said I was a mercenary. Did you notice my Gambison by any chance?

Maybe he saw my round eyes, Priest Rien said with a smile.

“It’s a trade secret, can I tell you?”

I shook my head. ‘Cause I don’t need to know

“Enough.”

“I see.”

Her face darkened.

Is it my imagination that the invisible tail looks like it’s drooping behind its back?

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