The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 89
Chapter 89: The fat aristocrat is introduced
Grace spoke to the priest, who had been silently watching with a strangely warm smile. Mitrof and Canule were led into the church by Grace.
The rectangular worship hall of the church was long and narrow, with clear divisions of sunlight and shadow. Vertical windows were evenly spaced along the high ceiling, and the bright sunlight coming through them drew slanted lines on the walls.
Long benches, worn and discolored, with some missing backrests or rotting away, lined the left and right sides, separated by an aisle in the center. The walls, which were probably originally white, were now dull and showed signs of aging that could not be corrected by maintenance alone.
As they walked with Grace, Mitrof looked up at the ceiling. Dust and debris floating in the air twinkled in the sunlight. The painting on the ceiling, which was revealed through light, caught Mitrof’s attention.
“——It’s a beautiful painting.”
“Oh, you mean the ceiling painting—it’s a fine one, isn’t it?”
While Grace did not seem particularly interested, Mitrof continued to gaze intently at the painting on the ceiling.
In the center of the church, a circle was formed, within which saints, knights, and gods were depicted. The famous scene from the Bible where gods entrust a holy sword to knights to slay dragons and saints bestow blessings…
The soft brushstrokes and soft color scheme are typical of religious paintings, but Mitrof thinks that this ceiling painting is more eye-catching than other religious paintings. Is it because of the precision of the drawing, the skill of the composition, or the place of the church that it has fallen out of fashion?
Mitrof himself is not a pious believer. He had prayed at the church and solemnly listened to sermons from priests and monks, but he had never felt the presence of God or corrected his behavior for that purpose.
However, Mitrof had an indescribable sensation.
He did not see God there, nor did he experience any sort of lightning-like revelation.
He just felt it in his skin, in the presence of something sacred.
Beautiful things have the power to solemnize people.
“Can human beings create something like this? Could the will of God be imbued in each stroke of the brush?”
In the church, countless people kneel and pray, lighting candles… They have been watched by the weight of time for thousands of days and decades.
Mitrof understands that the church is not just a building. Under this painting, people stand straight. Looking up, Mitrof feels as though he is not gazing at the painting but receiving the gaze of God.
“Mitrof-sama?”
“…Ah, sorry—I was just feeling comfortable.”
At Canule’s call, Mitrof turns his face with a wry smile.
He had never prayed properly before. It was strange that he suddenly thought of himself as a devout believer. His convenience for changing himself was laughable.
Grace passed by a row of benches and entered a side aisle. The two followed her.
There was a door in the back, and beyond it, a small guest room was set up.
When Grace opened the window in the room, the wind entered along with the light. There were four chairs placed around a low table.
Mitrof sat facing Grace, and Canule stood diagonally behind him.
“What’s wrong, Canule? Why aren’t you sitting too?”
“No, it’s just that…”
“It bothers me when you’re the only one standing.”
“If Mitrof-sama wishes it, then I shall sit down—excuse me.”
Grace smiled as she saw Canule obediently take a seat beside Mitrof.
“It seems like everything went well in my absence.”
“Yeah, Canule has been a great help—if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have been able to continue my adventures.”
“You are too kind.”
“Canule has taken great care of Mitrof, hasn’t she?”
“No, it is simply my duty.”
Grace tilted her head slightly at Canule’s formal attitude.
Sunlight poured cheerfully onto the seat by the window. Grace’s silver hair flowed down her shoulder, swaying smoothly in sync with her head gesture, shining in glittering particles of light. Grace’s eyes were clear blue, reminiscent of the color of the current sky.
‘A beautiful person,’ Canule thinks.
As a knight, Canule often accompanied her master to social events. There, she saw plenty of ornate noblewomen and girls.
While these women, who had been polished in body and mind since childhood, possessed a beauty deserving of the name, compared to elves, the difference was clear—like silver and iron, similar but vastly different.
“Let’s move on with the conversation.”
Canule said, steering the conversation unusually.
“…Yes. At this point, there is nowhere to hide. Let me tell you about my situation. Honestly, I suspect that this is the will of the Divine Tree. In this melting pot of a city, I happened to run into you all without prior arrangement—perhaps it is a sign that I should not suffer alone and should speak out.”
Grace closed her eyes and smiled as if chewing on bitterness, then opened her eyes and looked up at the church wall.
“As you can see, this is a church—it can also be said to be a ruin that has been abandoned.”
“Do you live here?”
Mitrof asked Grace, who then nodded.
“For less than half a month, I have been living here by fate… I’m sorry for the late report, but the Divine Tree has safely overcome its illness. It is thanks to your help—I would like to thank you again.”
Grace bowed deeply.
She was originally a hunter from an elf village. She came to this city to find the ingredients for a healing medicine for the Divine Tree, which was afflicted with a withering disease in her village. The three of them cooperated to obtain the medicine, and Grace returned to her village several months ago.
“I’m relieved to hear it’s healed.”
“The people from the village are also grateful to the two of you—because it is a story that cannot be made public, I was sent again. To deliver a token of appreciation.”
At this, Grace stumbled over her words a bit and coughed.
“A token of gratitude? I’m happy to receive it, but…”
“Well, if that’s what you think, then it will help me out too.”
“After gratefully accepting it, how did Grace end up here?”
“After accepting it? no… Well, that’s where the problem lies.”
Clearing her throat, Grace looked at the two faces alternately.
“Have you seen Kai and Kou’s faces?”
“——I have.”
Mitrof answered honestly, and Canule nodded.
“Then, it’s easier to explain—this is an orphanage where the ‘Branded Children’ live.”
“I see—I had a feeling it was something like that.”
When Mitrof carried Kou on his back, he saw that face under the hood. Was it best described as ‘half-beast’? Although Kou had a human face, his nose was pointed like a dog’s, and he had the mouth of a beast.
“‘Branded Children’ refers to someone who has been cursed by relics found in the labyrinth or under the influence of magic.”
“Like myself.”
“I see. But historically, it did not have that meaning. It referred to beings who were not human…those who drew a line between themselves and others were called ‘Branded Children.'”
“I see, so they were abnormal beings.”
“Mitrof, please refrain from using that term.”
“Isn’t it just a name for categorization? That’s what I read in a book.”
“Even tasteless words hold meaning when spoken by people—the word ‘abnormal’ is not appreciated around here. ‘Branded Children’ is still a better alternative.”
“I see. I didn’t know that—thank you for telling me.”
Mitrof bowed his head. He accepted it honestly and recognized his ignorance.
Grace gave him a soft look for his honesty.
“The priests here take care of children who were forced into darkness due to the curse of the labyrinth, illness, mixed race, injury…each burden they could not avoid carrying.”
“Indeed, that is admirable.”
Mitrof said solemnly.
“No, no, I’m just doing what I can.”
A man appeared from the door in the back of the room, holding a tray with a cup and teapot. Mitrof guessed that it led to the living space with facilities for the priests and nuns who lived there.
Even though it was a church, they needed facilities for the resident priests and nuns to live comfortably.
“I’m sorry, Saffron-dono—I’ve caused you trouble.”
“Yes, a friend has come, how delightful—It is also my pleasure to entertain good guests.”
Saffron arranged tea on the table, urging Grace to sit as she stood up to accept the tray.
“That being said, all we can serve is herbal tea from the garden and a modest cookie.”
“I’m grateful to be able to eat and drink—as you can see, I’m always hungry.”
Saffron wrinkled his eyelids at Mitrof’s casual response.
“This herb is rare, you see—I’d be happy if you enjoyed it, but I can prepare normal tea for you if it doesn’t suit your taste.”
“I really like this tea—as for Mitrof…oh, excuse me—Saffron-dono, this is Mitrof, and this is Canule—both of you, this is Saffron-dono—he is the priest who oversees this church.”
“Grace-san told me about you,” Saffron said with a gentle smile.
As a priest who managed the church, there should be attendants who serve him, but he seemed to be very proficient in pouring tea from the pot.
“I was just hearing from Grace about how she decided to introduce us.”
Saffron offered Mitrof the cup, which he took. At aristocratic tea parties, there is a complicated etiquette regarding who should drink tea first. The host may drink first to show that the tea is not poisoned, or the guest may drink first to show that they have no doubts.
Mitrof, still adhering to ingrained aristocratic customs, decided to first drink tea.
This was his judgment to show his satisfaction without objection to Saffron’s utmost hospitality and the fact that the tea was brewed from rare herbs. As a guest, it would be best to drink tea first and demonstrate complete satisfaction.
Mitrof lowered his eyes slightly and peered into the cup. When it came to tea, it was usually red, brown, or sometimes yellow, but the herb tea was a vivid green color like the new leaves of summer.
If he brought his nose closer, the aroma would be faint. However, it was not a bad smell. He felt a refreshing sensation.
With one sip, it was quite lukewarm. As a priest, he must have been educated in various subjects. It’s impossible for him not to know how to brew tea properly. While black tea uses boiling water, it seems that he deliberately cooled it down. He drank it slowly without getting burned, and the taste lingered on his tongue.
At first, he felt the astringency and unique bitterness that made his brow furrow. But after swallowing it, he discovered a profound sweetness.
‘I see, it’s better to drink it lukewarm,’ Mitrof nodded. If he were to drink it at the same temperature as black tea, the bitterness and astringency would decrease, but this delicate sweetness would disappear.
“This is the first time I have ever tasted this tea—it’s quite enjoyable.”
Mitrof honestly voiced his thoughts, and Saffron nodded with a gentle smile.
“It’s a type of tea that has been consumed in Eastern countries for a long time—It’s not prevalent here, but I like it.”
After telling them to take their time, Saffron returned to his room.
Mitrof and Grace quenched their thirst with the green tea, and Canule was curious about the green tea, contributing to a moment of relaxation.
“Shall we continue our conversation?”
As Grace spoke, the deep voice of a wild man was heard from afar outside the window.
“Excuse me, is Saffron-saaan here?”
The voice was low and drawn out. Grace frowned, creating deep wrinkles on her forehead. Mitrof sensed that the man was not a desirable guest, even without asking.
“…Perhaps it will save time for explanations—the reason I’m here is precisely because of that voice.”
Grace said with a sigh. Mitrof and Canule followed in her footsteps, and the three of them walked towards the entrance of the church.
Saffron was already there when they arrived. Two men were standing there, and Saffron seemed to be exchanging words with a burly, bear-headed man.
Behind him and to the side, a small man with sharp eyes was also standing. He seemed human.
“I’m sorry for having you come so many times, but my answer remains the same—I have no intention of selling this church.”
“However, Saffron-san, I am also doing this as I was asked—complaints have come in, saying that they are scared to have people like you living here. You understand, don’t you? We have an obligation to maintain the safety of the neighborhood.”
“Of course, I understand—I’m not happy about causing trouble for residents either—however, if we can talk and understand each other, there may be a solution—can we please have an opportunity to speak with those residents?”
“You’re persistent—no matter how many times you say it, our answer won’t change—the residents don’t want to see your faces.”
Although the tone was polite, the content was harsh. Mitrof frowned. Clearly, this was a violent person.
Ignoring Mitrof’s cowering, Grace pushed forward and stood next to Saffron with her arms crossed.
“… It’s you again.”
The bear-headed man groaned in a disgusted tone.
“You look like you’re about to say something unpleasant—rest assured, my feelings are the same as yours.”
“It has nothing to do with you—are you a member of the church? Or are you this priest’s child? No? Then be quiet, will you?”
“I am not a child; I am here of my own volition; as long as I am here, I will not allow any unjust demands for eviction.”
“What are you talking about? We legitimately purchased the entire parcel of land. If you want to live here, it’s only natural that you pay the appropriate amount of money—If you can’t pay, then you have no choice but to leave.”
“You purchased the land where the church stands? This is God’s house—have you obtained proper permission?”
The bear-headed man’s eyebrows furrowed at Grace’s resolute attitude.
Despite her petite size, Grace had a well-proportioned face and sharp eyes that could pierce through someone. The bear-head man shifted his large body uncomfortably and turned his face away.
“… Brother, what should we do?”
The small man called “Brother” looked at Grace with a bored expression. After glancing at Saffron, Mitrof, and Canule, he yawned.
“Let’s go—it’s crowded with guests today—we don’t want to be rude.”
“Huh? B-Brother?!”
Without even turning to the voice that called out to him, the man quickly walked away.
The bear-headed man looked flustered as he looked at the small man’s back and Grace, then shouted, “We’ll come back again!” before running after him.
Watching the strange pair, who seemed like villains but were actually quite unusual, Mitrof walked alongside Grace.
“Is this orphanage a target for land grabbers?”
“Yes, they’re a group of thugs who create chaos in this area.”
“I’ve heard rumors of illegal groups controlling the backstreets, but… what are you doing to counter them?”
Mitrof turned to Grace. Just then, someone interrupted their conversation.
“Saffron-sama, wasn’t there someone here just now?”
A nun dressed in a black robe appeared on the path next to the church that led to the yard. Although she had her hand on the wall, her eyes were hidden behind the black garment.
Mitrof guessed that she was either visually impaired or blind, but he noticed that the woman’s ears were long, even though they were hidden under her hood.
“Grace, are you there?”
“Yes. Troublesome visitors came, but they just left.”
Grace replied, then faced Mitrof with a mischievous smile.
“Let me introduce you, Mitrof—this is my older sister.”