The Hunt of Arrogance
"…What do you mean, he's old? Lord Carmelo?"
Roberta looked at Rinna as if she didn't understand.
"That's right. He's far older than he appears."
"Very much so," Rinna added.
Just how old did the old priest mean by very?
Ulrich only used Carmelo as an alias—he hadn't altered his appearance. To anyone, he looked like a man in his early twenties. No matter how youthful he might be, it would be hard to imagine him being over forty.
And yet, he was someone who had lived an unimaginably long time. Depending on how one knew him, that span could range from centuries to the very beginning of time.
Because Roberta knew that, she couldn't simply dismiss the old woman's words.
"You've never heard anything about him, sister?"
"Not at all. Lord Carmelo has never spoken about himself like that."
Maintaining her composed act, she met the old woman's gaze.
"Perhaps I was jumping to conclusions."
Letting out a soft hum, the old priest furrowed her brow.
At that moment, Roberta cast a sideways glance at Fritz.
"Where did you hear something like that?"
"From records my mother left behind. His name was written in them."
"Records…?"
"Just that—records. You could say she organized her memories before facing death."
Priest Rinna paused briefly before continuing.
"From the Age of the Gods up to just before the Third Age of humanity. My mother tried to leave behind everything she remembered as records. After she passed, my siblings added to them before passing them down to me. That's how I came to know the name Carmelo."
So she had only inferred it from records?
"It seems he was mentioned as someone from a very distant past."
"From a human perspective, extremely distant. That was the first time he appeared in my mother's records."
"Surely… it doesn't say he was from the Age of the Gods, does it?"
Roberta responded lightly, almost jokingly, while carefully watching her reaction.
Rinna's lips curved slightly upward.
"Unfortunately, the mention only comes near the very end. 'Socheno of Kormilius gathered all sects. As the direct son of Carmelo and the representative of the lineage, he—'"
"Socheno?"
"Wait a moment."
Roberta cut her off immediately.
"The Socheno you just mentioned…"
"As you know, that is the name of His Holiness, the first Pope."
"…You're saying Lord Carmelo is his father?"
"According to my mother's records."
The aged priest's eyes stared steadily at the younger one.
Roberta lowered her gaze and touched her lips with her right hand.
Was Rinna's claim true?
She couldn't judge here. But it was certainly possible. Carmelo—no, Ulrich—was the kind of being for whom such a thing wouldn't be impossible.
Hadn't he said so before? When the Second Age of humanity collapsed into chaos, the Kormilius lineage approached him. If he would grant them certain promises, they would restore order to the world.
What if one of those promises was his blood?
Would a lineage obsessed with purity pass up the chance to reclaim blood that had been diluted over time? Whether it was asking for a direct child or arranging a union with someone of Kormilius, wouldn't they have demanded such a pact?
"It was first recorded in my mother's time, but that wasn't the end. My siblings' records mention it as well. The Kormilius lineage has never used the same name as their ancestors, yet every few hundred years, the name 'Carmelo' appears in the world. What do you make of that, sister?"
It was obvious—they were the same person.
But she couldn't say that. Unlike before, when Ulrich himself had revealed the truth to an inquisitor, this was only speculation. It wasn't something she could confirm on her own. The best course was to feign ignorance and probe further.
"Do you really believe those records?"
"Is there even a need to believe or not? The family tree would give you the answer."
That was true. Would there really be no genealogy for the first Pope? Even an ordinary priest could verify it if they tried. There was simply no reason to.
The Pope was chosen from the collateral branches of Kormilius. It wasn't a hereditary position. As long as one belonged to the lineage, that was enough—the identity of one's parents only mattered within the family.
Still hiding her thoughts, Roberta spoke as if she couldn't understand.
"No. Just from a family tree, you're saying the two are the same person? There's nearly a two-thousand-year gap between the Carmelo in those records and the Carmelo here."
Even mixed-bloods couldn't live that long. And Kormilius was a lineage that insisted on purity. How could a human without the blood of other races live for over a thousand years?
"Isn't it possible precisely because they are pure?"
"How so?"
"Doesn't the scripture mention it? Humans who lived extraordinarily long lives."
Roberta fell silent.
"Take Arturus Magnus, for example. His name spans over a thousand years in history. And while not to that extent, there are others—names of pure humans who lived beyond what should be possible. And what does the Pantheon say they all have in common?"
"They are said to carry the divinity of Lord Hestio."
"That is what Kormilius is said to possess."
Did she truly believe that?
The words rising to her throat, Roberta swallowed.
Rinna's claim was simple—that among the Kormilius lineage, there were exceptional individuals who gained long lifespans. To someone who believed in the divine nature said to reside within Kormilius, it was a plausible conclusion.
And though Ulrich's true history was deeply hidden, more people knew fragments of it than one might expect. Like the Kormilius, some knew a broad truth; like the Roslayan count's family, some knew only that he had lived an extraordinarily long life as a human. Rinna's claim wasn't entirely unreasonable.
"I thought you might know, sister…"
Rinna sighed, sounding disappointed.
At that, Roberta felt something difficult to put into words.
"…Then, do you perhaps know the names Ertie or Oscar?"
"I don't know Oscar, but I do know Ertie. That was the name of a dragon slayer from the previous age."
As Roberta was about to speak, Rinna frowned and quickly continued.
"More importantly, shouldn't we continue this conversation inside? How long do you intend to keep an old woman standing out here?"
"Ah… my apologies."
Roberta apologized and started walking again.
***
Even after that, they continued talking, but she learned nothing particularly new about Priest Rinna. She was indeed a properly ordained priest of the Pantheon. She even revealed the priest's seal on the palm of her right hand. There was nothing to fault in her conduct either—she spent most of her day helping around the temple or in the prayer hall.
Roberta went to the lord's residence to meet Ulrich. She intended to inform him about the elderly priest, but she couldn't meet him. With the steady arrival of nobles, her turn kept getting pushed back. In the end, she left a letter, though she couldn't tell whether it had even reached him.
Three days later, Roberta rode out beyond the eastern gate with Fritz.
"It keeps getting colder," Fritz said, shivering as his breath turned white.
Soldiers were lined up along the outskirts of the city. Those gathered from across the central Empire numbered just over seven thousand—more than expected. She had thought it would be around six thousand, but the name of Kormilius truly carried weight.
If they waited a few more days, they would easily surpass ten thousand. But the man holding the reins had no intention of delaying. Roberta urged her horse forward, moving from the rear to the front.
"Tell those who arrive late to follow us to Parvije."
Ulrich was not dressed as he usually was. A man who had once traversed the Ice Peninsula wearing nothing but simple cloth now wore full armor. Over it, he draped a blue mantle embroidered in gold with the crest of Kormilius. Since he wouldn't have prepared such things himself, someone must have provided it.
"There's no need for them to rush. This won't be a battle that requires that many hands."
"Are you certain?" asked Alessandro, the king of Parvije.
Instead of answering, Ulrich looked toward Count Schnautfen Trine.
"They might unite, but Parvije's situation is quite poor," the count said. "Right after His Majesty Alessandro left the country, that mage Shwab reportedly acted on his own and raised troops. As a result, the dissatisfied nobles are beginning to push back."
"I thought as much," Alessandro scoffed.
"There are even rumors that the former king and his heirs were assassinated," the count added, glancing at Ulrich. "Only rumors, of course—but who knows how much support they'll give to a mere mage who monopolized power."
"Even so, don't underestimate them."
Ulrich turned his gaze to Alessandro.
"I've gathered these forces under the name of Kormilius, but whether they amount to more than a show depends on you. You must face Parvije. Without you, we are nothing more than invaders."
At that, Alessandro grinned.
"I know. I'm just taking back what was stolen. So all I have to do is show them I'm the rightful ruler, right?"
"That's right."
From the front, Ulrich surveyed the formation.
A little behind the front, Roberta—now among the priests—met his gaze. She smiled and tilted her chin slightly to the right. There stood the elderly priest.
Had he received the letter?
Ulrich gave a small nod.
***
Two days after they set out, snow began to fall.
Though the central Empire was milder than the south, winter was still winter. Rivers and fields froze over, and snow piled atop them in white layers.
At first, it lightly covered the frozen ground, but as they advanced, it grew deeper. After marching east along snow-covered roads for several weeks, winter had fully set in. The snow rose above their ankles, and the army reached the border.
Though called a border, it wasn't marked by any drawn line. Instead, a mountain range served as the boundary—the west belonging to the Empire, the east to the kingdom.
The range stretched long and rugged, allowing passage only through a few gates—and all of them were controlled by the Kingdom of Parvije.
Alessandro frowned as he stared at one of those gates.
"As expected, they don't seem willing to open it."
Between two steep, cliff-like stone mountains stood a fortress.
It was narrow and had high walls, so the garrison was small—perhaps a thousand at most. Yet Alessandro knew all too well how many times that small force had repelled the Empire.
It was, quite literally, a natural fortress.
By the time they arrived, the pursuing forces had joined them, bringing their numbers to over eight thousand. Though they outnumbered the defenders eight to one, no one believed it would be easy to take.
A horn sounded from the fortress. Soldiers appeared atop the walls, taking defensive positions.
"What are your orders?"
The nobles all turned their eyes toward Ulrich.
He was the one who had insisted on taking this route despite opposition. His resolve had been so firm that some had even suspected there might be an insider—but the tightly shut gates showed no sign of welcome.
With so few troops, they knew from experience it couldn't be taken. There was no option but to turn back.
"Alessandro. Come with me."
Ulrich stared at the gate for a moment, then turned and gestured.
Two riders who had met his gaze approached—one bearing the royal standard of Parvije, the other the banner of the Kormilius family.
With them close behind, Ulrich spurred his horse forward and rode toward the gate.
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE : https://beastnovels.com/