Chapter 30: The Tribunal

Roland was silent when they emerged. The strange sensation on his wrists and arms lingered, leaving him feeling deeply unsettled. Enid seemed to have guessed what had transpired; she bade him a smiling farewell and led him straight out of the cathedral.

"You likely won't be coming back here for a long time."

Roland simply felt uneasy. He did not wish to harbor malice toward a venerable old bishop, nor could he bring himself to believe that certain things he had suspected were not only ignored but brazenly disregarded, despite being listed among the grave sins in the doctrine.

Enid only repeated, time and again, that he would not frequent this place. Nothing more.

"You should have suddenly turned around and licked him just now."
"That might have scared him to death."

*I’m afraid he might have thought the same thing as I did.*
"...Ugh, you’re disgusting."

Roland’s lips curled slightly. He could sense that Enid felt a degree of remorse for what he had been subjected to. It was clear that regarding the Holy Cross Church, there were many things she had not yet told him. Perhaps she preferred that he see them for himself?

"I heard some voices, my lady."

"Everyone recorded in the 'Golden Book' hears them." Enid was not surprised by Roland’s experience. "That is the protection afforded to the faithful. You will understand once you reach the lesson on Curios."

Curios...
Just now, the flame that devoured the sound...

*Did you do something?*
"I am the only one who can speak inside the head of Roland Collins."
*That’s an unexpected reason. You’re becoming more and more like my uncle.*
"So are you."
*You have an uncle, too?*
"..."

They left the church and boarded the carriage once more. The sanctuary, from which hymns constantly drifted, gradually faded into the distance, leaving Roland in a daze. He had always measured distances with his own feet in the past. When had he become accustomed to taking a carriage everywhere?

"Perhaps if I lost this luxurious life one day, I wouldn't be able to adapt."

Enid leaned to the side, sitting on the same bench as Roland. A gentle wind, already carrying a hint of winter, brushed against his cheeks, smoothing his furrowed brow.

"People find it easy to get used to the good, but it is very difficult to adapt to the bad."

Roland admitted she was right. Who wouldn't want to live a good life?

"The Inquisition will ensure you remain ‘luxurious’," the woman said, looking at the hands resting on Roland's knees. Long hours of pressing, grinding, and moving medicine chests had made the tendons and bones on the backs of his hands stand out. "Besides, what is this compared to the future?"

"You will become increasingly prosperous, Roland."

Her words were far gentler than the breeze blowing by as they traveled slowly. Roland wanted to offer his usual professional thanks, but he found she had already turned her head away, staring at the pedestrians passing by the roadside.

"At this moment, you should say: 'Sister Bat, I don't want to work hard anymore!'"
*Please address Enid as 'my lady'.*
"Lady Bat, I don't want to work hard anymore!"
*Shut up.*

Once the two stopped talking, the only sounds filling his ears were the rhythmic rumble of carriage wheels and the chaotic clatter of hooves. Roland felt that Enid’s mood had soured.

They were silent the rest of the way. It was only when they entered the West District that she finally spoke.

"Your uncle ought to hire someone to help out," she suddenly remarked, apropos of nothing. Her low voice was husky, blending into the wind like the rustling of brittle winter branches. "He received a hundred pounds in inheritance, yet he lets you do heavy labor every day, doesn't he?"

Roland could hear the dissatisfaction in her tone. Honestly, he thought Pusey Collins had been good enough to him. Even the heavy lifting, the grinding of medicine, and learning to categorize herbs by touch and scent before bed—some of the prickly ones had left his hands full of holes at first—were fine.

He was content.

However, he couldn't tell Enid, "My uncle is good enough to me." Because Enid was also very good, exceptionally good, to him. He didn't know why he couldn't say it. He only had a vague feeling that he shouldn't praise Pusey Collins in front of Enid. It was just a feeling.

"Some people are born with a surplus of schemes."

"I am preparing to resign from that job, my lady." Roland ignored the drifting text and pursed his lips. "He is very happy that I have found a decent, well-paying job, and he always praises you, saying that you—"

Enid grew interested. "Saying what about me?"

"Saying you are a kind person—kind, elegant, and wise. He said he had never seen a woman as excellent as you." Roland tried his best to speak well of his uncle.

In reality, Pusey Collins found Enid the most annoying of all. He always thought this unmarried, improper woman had done something to Roland. He even claimed that if they met again, he would certainly confront her.

"Uncle said I should repay you in the future."

Enid looked at Roland with a cryptic smile. "When you become a Ritualist, Roland. I hope you won't be embarrassed by what you said today."

"...My lady?"

Whether it was because of Roland's words or... something else, Enid's mood appeared much brighter. She signaled the driver to turn onto another road, and the horses, breathing out plumes of white mist, shook their heads and accelerated at the coachman's call.

"We are almost there."

Roland knew that the quieter it became in his ears, the deeper they were venturing into the West District. It was strange that only the Inquisition was located in the West District.

"...Because 'Holy Cross' is a collective term," Enid explained. "Although we all gather around the Father of All Things and the Attendants, there are distinctions."

The Holy Cross at the highest level was a broad concept. Beneath it were the 'Church' that performed acts of mercy throughout the land, the 'Inspectorate' that worked with the state to maintain order, and the 'Inquisition' that handled special, major events. Though they shared the same faith, the rules they followed differed greatly.

Perhaps it wasn't that the Inquisition was in the West District, but that the Church and the Inspectorate were in the East.

"That sounds a bit complicated." Roland wisely told himself it was best not to ask further.

"It is not complicated," Enid rubbed her temples. "The matters the Inquisition handles are very simple. I have said before: we are a group of pure people."

Enid was like that. If the members of the Inquisition were all like that...

"Then Roland Collins could harvest a whole swarm of evil-minded bats."
*To be honest, compared to bats, I prefer the whales that Miss Nina once mentioned.*
*They seem so cute.*
*If I lived in the ocean, I could see these big guys often.*
*I wonder if a Ritualist can live in the sea.*
"Whales?"
"The kind that spray water?"
*I think so.*
"They exist on land too, what's so rare about them?"

Roland didn't understand. Suddenly, he remembered something very important and blurted out:

"My lady, it seems we forgot...!"
"Hmm?"
"Purification."

Enid smiled, looking at the anxious boy with great indulgence. She extended a finger from her sleeve and tapped Roland between the brows. "Didn't you feel it?"

"At the Temple of Mercy—the hall with the many white elephant columns, I saw you secretly touching them when you left. The purification ritual set up by the Immortal has been running for forty years."

"By the time you went inside, that ritual had already been completed."

Roland was surprised. "Is that what you called—"

"Exactly. The architect and builder of that cathedral spent forty years crafting this miracle on earth, using it as a ritual object to push open the Gate of Immortality—"

"Christopher Ryan."

"The purification ritual laid down by that great man will never cease, unless the entire cathedral is destroyed."

Mentioning this Immortal, Enid softened her expression, and her words were filled with reverence.

"The path of greatness begins with the first Ring."
"And those who reach the tenth Ring are what we call Immortals."
"He pushed open that door in only forty years..."

Immortals.
Literally, people whose bodies or souls do not decay?
Roland thought of the first time he met Enid. Those flames, sharp and surging like thorns. Were Immortals more powerful than Enid?

"More?" Enid laughed. "We are not comparable, Roland. Immortals can barely appear in the Waking World. They either stay by the side of the Gods and Attendants, or they roam and traverse the Sleeping World..."

"They can no longer be called 'human,' I mean, from every perspective."

Roland fell silent.
The tenth Ring is Immortality.
Then, the so-called Attendants...

"Attendants are different from Immortals."

Enid seemed reluctant to let Roland know about the 'Attendants.' She tapped her thigh, speaking vaguely: "...They are 'things' that 'comply with the rules' and are 'recognized by the rules' to serve at the side of the deities. In a sense, they are no different from the deities themselves."

"If you are curious, you can file an application to check a name in the archives—"

"'The Golden Nun'."

At this point, she suddenly leaned forward and rang the bell.
The Inquisition was arriving.

The carriage turned a corner, and a grim building drew near. Yes, Roland felt that words like elegant, magnificent, or spectacular were insufficient to describe the exterior of this structure.

Grim. That was the most fitting.

The architecture was entirely gray and black, with extreme Gothic spires and stone-carved patterns that made it look, from a distance, like a giant beast hiding in the night, waiting to devour those who approached.

As the hooves settled, Roland didn't wait for Enid. He grabbed his cane and stepped out of the carriage first.

"Lacking etiquette, not gentlemanly enough."
*I don't want to be carried out of the carriage again. That was too embarrassing.*
"You could express it in words instead of performing such rude behavior."
*In words? That’s even less polite.*
"Not necessarily."
*Let's hear it.*
"'If you carry me again, I’ll stick my face under the horse’s tail.'"
*I really shouldn't have any expectations for you.*

Roland maintained a smile as he stepped forward, extending his arm so Enid could lean on him with one hand while holding up her skirts with the other to step down.

"You look quite presentable now." The woman smiled, adjusting his hat. "Come, follow me."

The Inquisition.
It was deathly quiet here.
*'Only colder methods can combat evil.'*
He saw the words carved into the stone slab at the entrance.

Inside, the building was warm. The lighting was ample. The walls, like those of the majestic cathedral, were etched with various intricate patterns—seemingly stories of punishing evil, or perhaps, real history.

They met few people along the way, all of them moving in a hurry. Compared to the clerics in the church, the executors of the Inquisition carried an air of sternness.

Enid led Roland into her office:
Located at the very heart of the building.
Down a single path, a room carpeted in purple.
Roland estimated it was ten times the size of his uncle's pharmacy? Perhaps fifteen.

The ceiling and walls were a mix of black and gold, with oil paintings and several well-maintained swords hanging on the walls. On the mantle of the fireplace sat a row of uneven, short, thick candles. On the desk were stacks of books, and... two hand-stitched white rabbit dolls.

As Roland entered, Enid suddenly realized: she instantly accelerated, sweeping past Roland so quickly she stirred up a gust of wind. She strode to the desk, pulled open a drawer, and swept the two rag dolls into it with a single motion.

*Bang.*
Closed.

Roland: ...
"..."

After she finished, she turned around, only to remember...
Roland was blind.
"Indeed."
Roland: ...Indeed.

Enid: "Ahem... I just saw two moths."
"I’m different; I saw two little white rabbits."

Roland nodded, neither awkward nor at ease, and stepped into the room leaning on his cane.

"I will introduce you to a colleague. He will be stationed at the Inspectorate, and you will be under his responsibility. When it comes to handling 'miscellaneous matters,' we are far inferior to the Inspectorate."

After taking a light jab at them, Enid smoothed her stray hair and tucked it behind her ears.

"Starting today, I will give you an item containing the Inquisitorial Code. You must keep it on your person at all times, especially when sleeping—this will allow you to pinpoint your coordinates more accurately, to enter the kingdom of the Father of All Things... instead of that of other gods."

"Finally, I must teach you a lesson. You are missing the most fundamental knowledge."

It sounded like a lot of things.

"It is a lot, because you lack the knowledge of an entire world."