A Priest's Life as a Villain

Chapter 005

The man's name was Dante.

"?? As the Leader of the 13th Branch of the Revolutionaries, entrusted with the significant mission of attacking the capital city, Gerinhild?"

Crack—!

Ran struck with a short, abrupt punch.

Dante's head snapped back and then returned. Blood streamed from his nose.

"Kkeup, you son of a bitch, hitting me while I'm talking?"

When Ran feinted as if to hit once more, Dante pressed his lips tightly together.

"There's no need for a lengthy explanation. You're the one who sent Hans in, aren't you?"

"Hah, Hans was your doing too, huh!"

"That's right."

The tentacled demonic beast's form was gradually disappearing, black smoke subtly rising as if combusting from the extremities of its body.

"You were going to summon that thing when High Priest Boras took Hilda into the Grand Cathedral, right? And when it seemed it was all going sideways, you went for broke here."

"? Damn it, of all people, it had to be the Mad Dog."

Lately, Dante had heard the ominous rumors running through the Revolutionaries.

Inquisitor Ran, nicknamed the Mad Dog.

The back of his neck tingled the moment the beaked mask introduced itself as Ran.

Boras, buoyed with triumph, slapped Dante's bound face several times. The dignity of a high priest was nowhere to be found.

"You bastard I'll tear apart! How dare you! Turn Hilda! Into a demonic beast!"

"Hilda was my comrade, bound by a pact! If anyone is dumbfounded by her senseless death, it's me!"

"Y-you demon bastard, S-shut your filthy mouth!"

Despite the blows, Dante's spirit did not falter. He was simply aggrieved. This had been a plan crafted with long effort and care. It was fine that Hans got caught—there were plenty of others to serve as guides. Not just anyone could be the sacrifice. Hilda was irreplaceable.

Boras shouted,

"Inquisitor! Arrest him at once! I'll petition the Special Unit Captain so that I may personally carry out the execution by burning!"

Ran quietly looked down at the kneeling Dante.

All of the rebel cultists he'd met and dealt with so far had been honest—to put it another way, they avoided trickery. Their actions were rooted in a belief that they performed noble deeds. Using shallow tricks was seen as dishonorable. In that regard, they weren't much different from the upright types of the Grand Cathedral or holy knights.

'This one is different.'

The plan was clever. He'd exploited the fact that the high priest who administered the area near the capital city had a weakness for women. Daring and ingenious strategy.

If not for the overwhelmingly low abilities of the players he deployed, and the misfortune of meeting the wrong opponent, it might have worked quite well.

"Did you plan everything yourself?"

Dante grinned, nodding. His front teeth, red-stained with blood, were exposed. Rather than pride, his nuance suggested gratitude that anyone had recognized his effort.

"You dream big, dark mage. What did you expect to get with just this much?"

"Keh, what did I expect? I'm satisfied simply by making my name known. Achieving the ideals of my comrades is just a bonus."

"Your reputation?"

"Heh heh, yeah. Think about it: Dante, the first dark mage to summon a demonic beast right in the middle of Gerinhild! I could die on the spot without regret."

Ran couldn't quite understand him. The mask hid his bewildered face, thankfully. Lowering himself slightly, he met Dante's gaze.

"How many dark mages like you are left in the Revolutionaries?"

"Well, it's certain there aren't many as young and promising as me."

"Good."

"K-keh keh. Inquisitor! Make my crimes sound even worse. If possible, let me die in front of the emperor. Then everyone will remember me. Dante, the Butcher of Lucerne! If it's this kind of death, I'll accept it gladly. In fact, it's even better this way."

Dante's body quivered excitedly.

Ever since coming to the mainland, Ran had encountered all sorts of human types. This one was the first of his kind—fresh, even reminding Ran of his own early days in the mortal world. Back when everything was new and strange.

After a brief reminiscence, Ran spoke quietly.

"Let me meet your leader."

"Heh, what are you babbling about?"

"If making your name famous is enough for your plan's success—"

"Well, yeah, that's my standard."

"I'll help you with your plan."

Dante's eyes widened. Boras immediately shouted from the side,

"Y-you, inquisitor!! What nonsense are you spouting?? Kk—gag."

Ran drove a sword into Boras's throat. Blood, dark and sticky, spurted out. Boras staggered and fell, his mouth wordlessly opening and closing, before dying.

Dante stared blankly at the scene. Uncomprehending, he just blinked. The sword stuck in the high priest's neck looked familiar. Only then did he suddenly feel something missing, and when he checked his waist, his own sword was gone from its sheath.

Clatter—

Ran dropped the sword in front of Dante. Blood trickled along the blade.

"Isn't assassin of the high priest better than butcher of Lucerne? Anyway, congratulations."

"You, what are you doing??"

Ran crouched again to meet Dante's eyes and tapped him lightly on the cheek.

"Well? Are you more in the mood to negotiate now?"

Suddenly, chills ran through him. Yes, it was frightening, but more than anything, he hated being killed out of hand. To be found as a corpse on the damp cellar floor would be a dog's death. His fate now rested entirely on this inquisitor's whim.

Dante nodded his head vigorously.

* * *

'Astana Revolutionaries, 13th Branch Head, Dante.'

Dante wrote his name in large letters on parchment and laid it over Boras's face.

"Your self-love is overwhelming."

"This is thrilling. Now this is what I've wanted. Who'd have thought I'd live to thank a Special Unit Inquisitor."

The two left the cellar together in secret. Ran led the way, having already memorized the mansion's structure. They headed for the corridor leading to the rear gate. No one had been there in ages; pale dust rose with every step.

"Cough, cough... Hey, inquisitor. Do we have to leave this way? Slipping out the back after a victory ruins the look."

Ran sighed quietly behind his mask. There are people who exhaust you quickly in conversation. Dante struck him as one of those. Still, it was far better than most demons, who were completely impossible to communicate with.

The exit door came into view.

"Is it okay for you to leave without giving orders to your subordinates?"

"Subordinates? The comrades outside aren't my jurisdiction. They're just other branch members who were rushed in because, thanks to someone, the plan went awry."

"So, it's fine for us to just go?"

"Yeah. We don't follow military-style ranks and discipline like the imperial army. We're all simply united under the Demon Liberation Front."

They operated across the nation independently, without clear structure. It made rooting them out difficult; no matter how much you dug, you couldn't get to the top. There were far more hidden revolutionaries than those visible targeted by the Special Unit Force. This is also why the suppression of the group had been so sluggish.

"Now we can talk more comfortably."

Ran glanced around as he spoke. They were on a secluded mountain path.

Dante loosened his robe's front and fanned himself.

"As I said before, we don't have a clear organizational structure. If you mean the head of the Revolutionaries by 'leader', not only do I not have access, I don't even know who that is."

"I know you work in cells. Then who is the superior who gave you the order to attack Gerinhild?"

"That would be the 2nd General Branch Manager."

"And above that?"

"No idea."

"How many General Branch Managers are there?"

"No idea about that, either."

Since becoming an inquisitor, Ran had conducted countless interrogations and torture sessions. Even the rhythm of a breath allowed him to distinguish truth from lies. Dante was being honest.

"All right. Take me to that person."

"But first, I want to confirm something myself. How did you see through my plan? Even if you forced Hans to talk, he knows nothing beyond his mission—he couldn't have given up any information on the plan."

Strictly speaking, the operation was a failure. He'd achieved minimal results, but even that was with Ran's help. As the plan's designer, Dante wanted to trace the cause of failure. Beyond ideology, it was pure curiosity.

"Dante. You seem a bit confused; you have no right to ask questions."

"What?"

"I'm being polite, but does it sound like a request? You're a hostage. Your life is in my hands."

"... Ah, got it."

With a light jerk of Ran's chin, Dante hesitantly moved ahead. He had only walked a few steps before he spoke again.

"Then answer me this! Even if you did make a pact, Hilda was my precious comrade. I have a duty to honor her spirit."

"... What do you want to know?"

"Did you sleep with Hilda too?"

Ran let out a sigh. Dante was dead serious. He pressed Ran again.

"To me, this is important! I can't travel with someone who violated a comrade, whatever else!"

"We only exchanged a few words. Nothing happened."

"Swear to Asriel, as you do. If it's true, I'll cooperate without any more backtalk."

"I swear to the Lord, I did not have relations with Hilda."

"All right, let's go."

It would take a full day to meet the 2nd General Branch Manager. There was no way they'd arrive today. The two were still deep in the mountains. Ran picked a suitable spot to rest.

"What are you doing?"

Dante asked with a look of puzzlement as Ran borrowed his sword to whittle some sticks he'd picked up. The pointed stick looked like a makeshift spear.

"If it gets any darker, we won't find any food. While I'm gone, gather some sticks for firewood."

"What's with the confidence? What if I run off while you're away?"

"Who knows. Maybe you'll find out why people call me the Mad Dog."

Dante simply coughed for no reason.

A little while later, Ran returned. Two mountain rabbits were skewered on his makeshift spear. He glanced at Dante's bundle of gathered sticks and immediately kicked it apart.

"Are you an idiot?"

"What?! What did you say?"

"They're all damp—they've soaked up water. How would you burn these?"

Dante had never camped before. He assumed any branch would burn. He'd found a pile of fallen branches in the shade and swept them all up.

In the end, dinner had to be postponed.

"Wow, this is delicious. I didn't know such delicacies existed."

Dante bit into a perfectly grilled piece and marveled as the juices exploded in his mouth. He forgot his companion was an inquisitor and ate with abandon.

Ran tore the meat into small pieces and, hidden by his mask, ate bit by bit.

"That looks really uncomfortable. Why not just take the mask off?"

"Mind your own business."

After finishing the meal, the two sat staring at the fire in silence.

"We're not going to sleep here, are we?"

"We can just stay up all night. I will."

"Don't joke. How is anyone supposed to sleep in a place like this, not even a scrap of blanket?"

"I thought all the Revolutionaries are tough guys who survived on grit alone. Who gave you your branch manager title, anyway?"

"If two comrades gather, a coordinator comes and lets you know."

"I see? It's not even war games. Is it any wonder your lot never succeed?"

"Hey, enough. Didn't we agree not to talk about that side of things?"

Caw—!

A loud bird's cry echoed. A bird circled the twilight sky.

Dante stood and spoke with excitement.

"Oh, a crow! Inquisitor, did you know? Our demon race has always believed crows to be the incarnation of a god. Ah, that god's not Asriel, by the way."

Thwack—!

Ran lightly chopped Dante on the back of the neck. As Dante collapsed limply, Ran laid him gently on a bed of thick, soft fallen leaves.

As promised, the bird descended and folded its wings by the fire. Ran pulled parchment and a pen nib from his robes.

—I have seized the tail of the Revolutionaries. I will gauge their true strength and judge whether to proceed.

It was in an ancient tongue unused by Imperials. Ran tightly rolled the parchment and handed it to the bird. The bird soared toward Quersa.

For a long time, the gaze behind the mask followed the bird as it disappeared into the sky.