The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#Chapter 348 Delinquent Priest Rufus (6) - Thugs or Wardens? For Raphaela, examining the condition of herbs was an act so ingrained in her body that it might as well be called a part of her life. Whether it had been harvested outside the proper season, whether there had been any mistake in the processing, whether the right method had been used for storage according to the herb's properties—there were far too many things to keep in mind, and not a single one could be handled carelessly. Because medicine existed to heal the human body. No matter how perfect the prescription, if the medicine itself was in poor condition, the illness could turn fatal. That was why Raphaela couldn't help but feel uneasy when Rufus first said, "I'll just buy the medicine we use." Well, of course—because she didn't trust bought medicine. She could hardly remember ever seeing a properly made herb or medicinal ingredient sold at other shops. But after a few days of running the clinic, Raphaela had come to realize something. In a small village, she could somehow balance supply and demand doing everything herself—gathering herbs, making medicine, and treating patients—but running things that way in a city was simply impossible. However capable Raphaela was, she only had one body, and gathering herbs required skill and knowledge, while processing them took a great deal of labor besides. When she could produce ten, there were a hundred people who needed it, so there was no way to strike a balance to begin with. More than anything, the quality of the medicinal ingredients Rufus purchased wasn't bad at all. No, it only came out as "not bad" because Raphaela's standards were so exacting—honestly speaking, these were goods that would have been rated top-grade anywhere else. Being able to steadily supply this much in bulk, without a single shortage or drop in quality, meant that the capabilities of the Brown Trading Company itself were simply tremendous. If that were so, then just how remarkable a person must Rufus be, to receive such extremely deferential treatment from the employees of a trading company like that? Which only made it all the more of a mystery. 'Just what on earth is the priest's true identity?' There was no room for doubt that he was someone noble and highborn, but she had no idea why such a person would be traveling alone on a pilgrimage without so much as a proper guard or attendant, or why he would go to the trouble of sponsoring Raphaela to overhaul the city's medical system. His appearance was suspicious, his identity was suspicious, and his words and conduct were suspicious. It had reached the point where she wondered if the very concept of suspiciousness had put on human skin and started walking around. (E/N: The demon king is not suspicious at all) If Raphaela had been a bit more shameless or sociable by nature, she might have tried to get close to Rufus and dig out his true identity, but she had never been the type who was good with words to begin with. When it came to matters tied to her own field of expertise or her personal convictions, she could speak up boldly enough, but this wasn't even that kind of matter. '...Well, for now I suppose I have no choice but to focus on treating my patients.' Leaving her curiosity unsatisfied wouldn't kill anyone, but the patients waiting only for her touch right now would be in danger if she didn't help them. For anyone else it might be different, but for Raphaela, it was a priority that needed no deliberation at all. "Oh my, dearie. Thanks to you, my back's stopped aching every day. I'm truly grateful." "Think nothing of it. Still, your back could go out again, so you should avoid lifting anything heavy as much as possible." "Right, right. I'll keep that in mind." Just as she was, as usual, about to finish treating a patient and send them off today, a sudden commotion of murmuring voices came from outside. After an exchange about someone cutting in line and being sorry for being in a hurry, the clinic door burst open urgently. "S-Saintess! You have to run!!" The one who came in drenched in cold sweat was Mirdin, the young Warden Raphaela had treated once before. He was a patient she remembered well, since after she'd fixed his leg he'd called her a saintess and thanked her in tears over and over again. "What do you mean, I have to run? What are you talking about...?" "T-there's no time to explain in detail! For now you need to get away from here—" At that moment, another commotion broke out outside once again. The voice that came this time was somewhat clearer. —This place is a wicked shop run by heretics!! Anyone who stands in our way will be treated as a dog of the heretics!! The murmuring, which had sounded like it was protesting and demanding answers, died down at once with that single shout. Leaving behind the looks from Mirdin and the old man, who both seemed to be pleading with her not to go out, Raphaela stepped outside the clinic. The queue that should ordinarily have been stretching long in front of the clinic. In its place, as though it had been forcibly torn apart, she saw a group of Wardens camped out in front of the clinic. The one standing furthest out in front leveled his spear threateningly at Raphaela and spoke. "Heretic witch! So you've been deceiving and enchanting foolish believers, have you! But that ends today!!" "...I'm not a heretic, though?" "Ha! Do you think I don't know you've been consorting with corrupt outsiders beyond the Sacred State, acting as their spy!" Ah, Raphaela thought, and closed her eyes for a moment to apologize, out of place as it was for the situation. 'I'm sorry for misunderstanding, priest. I thought you had sold me out.' "That's a preposterous accusation. I've never acted as anyone's spy." "It's no use trying to bewitch us with your wicked words! What are you all standing around for! Seize the witch at once, all of you!!" Ah, this. They never had any intention of listening to her in the first place. Raphaela pondered for a moment. The fact that the Wardens had moved probably meant that some high-ranking person somewhere hadn't liked the treatment work she'd been doing. Now that she'd even been slapped with the false charge of colluding with a foreign country, if she were dragged off, things probably wouldn't end well for her. As she debated whether to resist or not, she glanced around for a moment and soon gave up on resisting. It wasn't because she felt disillusioned with life at being surrounded by suspicious stares. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was precisely because she'd seen the resolve on her patients' faces, ready to fight alongside her somehow if she tried to resist, that Raphaela found herself unable to resist at all. If she went along quietly, it would end with just her, but the moment she resisted, everyone here would be dragged into it too. It was just as Raphaela, seemingly resigned, was about to utter words of surrender. "Hmm? Now that's strange. As far as I know, the whole reason Wardens exist is to act on behalf of the god's will and protect the believers, and yet the people here seem to be Wardens in uniform only, while their conduct is worse than that of thugs come to collect protection money." It was polite speech, certainly, and yet there wasn't a trace of respect in it—just a string of words that sounded like a scathing put-down. While everyone stood stunned at this sudden feast of insults, Rufus, cradling a paper bag of bread in his arms, calmly walked up to Raphaela's side. "Here, take this, Raphaela. This is today's lunch. It's walnut bread, and it turned out to be quite tasty." "Huh? Ah, yes." While Raphaela, looking dazed, took hold of the bread, the Wardens, only now understanding what they'd just been called, let their faces fill with fury. "H-hey, thugs? You there!! How dare you insult us, who serve the will of the great Kargal!!" "My, my. With the war god's temple sitting right in the middle of the city, impersonating Wardens—you people certainly have some nerve." Rufus shook his head slowly, then spoke. "Though as a righteous priest I'm not fond of violence, I can hardly stand idly by and let rogues who impersonate a god's soldiers and sully his name go unchecked." "That—" -We're saying we're real Wardens, damn it!! That was probably what the leader of the Warden group had wanted to shout. But it never came to be. Because Rufus swung his fist and sent the man's jaw spinning without warning. Crack! A crisp, meaty impact—so crisp it sent chills down the spine—rang out in front of the clinic. The Warden leader, unable to even scream properly, spun a full one and a half rotations in midair before slamming into the ground, foam and blood mixing as they spilled from his mouth. "C-Captain!?" "This madman! Do you think you'll get away with laying hands on a Warden!!" The Wardens, drawing their spears without hesitation, failed to realize that Rufus's clothing was in fact a priest's robe. Part of it was no doubt that, unlike a typical priest's robe, his was mostly black in color, but more than that, it was the influence of their preconceptions. A priest would never be alone in a back alley like this, without a single attendant at his side. And even if he were, he'd never suddenly hurl abuse and beat a man down with his bare fists. One soldier, his vision narrowed by preconception, thrust his spear without hesitation, and Rufus, just as without hesitation, twisted his body aside to slip past the thrust before, without hesitation, kicking the man who'd thrust the spear squarely in the groin. A strangled shriek rang out—whether it belonged to the soldier or to someone among the surrounding onlookers, no one could tell. Though there was no doubt whatsoever that the one who'd made the sound was a man, not a woman. And once two men had gone down in succession like that, the remaining Wardens couldn't even manage to thrust their spears properly. It couldn't be helped, really. Wardens were a group that acted as the hands and feet of the temple. Whether their actual combat ability was high or not didn't matter in the slightest. The mere fact that the temple stood behind them was enough that ordinary believers didn't even dare think of resisting them. And the Wardens themselves knew that fact all too well. That was the problem. A soldier who fights knowing full well the other side can't resist could never become a warrior in any true sense of the word. That was nothing more than a thug. Against Wardens who acted like tigers when beating down the weak but like mongrel dogs when they themselves were being beaten, Rufus's merciless pummeling began. "This is for the crime of blasphemy!" Thwack! Crunch! "This is for the crime of threatening innocent citizens!" Slap! Crack! "This is for the crime of daring to impersonate a Warden and sully that name!!" Crash-bang-thud! "This is for, um. Well, whatever-crime-it-is!!" There was no counterattack, no resistance. Not because they knew enough to give up cleanly, but because the moment they tried even the slightest counterattack or defense, Rufus noticed at once and beat them twice as hard for it. "W-wait, please! That's enough already! At this rate they'll really die!!" When Raphaela, unable to watch any longer, stepped in to stop him, Rufus let go of the soldier whose face he'd been grinding into a pulp while holding him by the collar, and spoke. "Hmm. Well, something like this could never actually kill him, but there's a need to cut down on wasted time, so let's leave it here." Rufus gave the back of his hand, thoroughly stained with blood, a rough shake to clear it off, then used the soldiers' own spears to hang their owners dangling from them, hoisting the load skillfully over his shoulder. Even while carrying five grown men—armored and armed men, no less—Rufus's manner remained utterly composed. Raphaela asked urgently. "Where are you planning to go?" Rufus answered. "Well, having caught men who impersonated Wardens, shouldn't I hand them over to the temple?" Leaving her with the words, "I'll be back soon, so you can just wait comfortably," Rufus calmly began walking toward the heart of the city. Naturally, having heard that, there was no way she could really just stand by and wait. Raphaela followed after Rufus, and, caught up in the moment, the other patients followed along as well. "Good lord. What is that?" "Am I seeing things right now?" Murmur, murmur. Whisper, whisper. The further Rufus advanced into the city center, the more the citizens who caught sight of him let slip cries of astonishment. Well, seeing him striding along in broad daylight, tattered Wardens slung over his shoulder like some caveman hauling home his spoils, they couldn't help but doubt their own eyes, wondering if this was really happening. "Halt!! Stop right there!!" By the time Rufus finally reached the front of Kargal's Temple, no small number of Wardens already stood armed and ready to receive him. Amid a mix of bewildered, confused, wary, and angry stares all fixed on him, the one who appeared to be the unit's captain—apparently recognizing Rufus's priest robe this time, at least—shouted in a tone somewhere between courtesy and menace. "State your identity and your purpose!!" Rufus smiled brightly, then planted the spears with the Wardens dangling from them into the ground at even intervals, as though he were planting trees. And then he answered. "I am Priest Rufus. I've brought in some 'self-proclaimed' Wardens who were sullying Kargal's honor." Rufus's answer seemed so far beyond anything he'd anticipated that the one who appeared to be the captain rolled his eyes about for a moment before glancing to gauge the reaction of a middle-aged man who was likely the highest-ranking person present. The middle-aged man. Fredrick, Mayor of this city, scowled and spoke toward Rufus. "A priest, you say? I've never once seen a priest wearing a black robe like that! Nor have I heard any word that a priest was coming to visit!" "That's an odd thing to say. Is a priest supposed to seek your permission individually every time he goes anywhere?" Fredrick's face showed a moment of being caught speechless, but he soon seemed to gather himself and answered. "But! Even granting that, harming this city's soldiers so recklessly is clearly a problem!!" Rufus answered again. "Ha ha ha, it seems there's been a misunderstanding, so allow me to say it again. These men aren't Wardens—they're thugs who impersonated Wardens." Fredrick's face twisted as if to say what kind of nonsense is that, but Raphaela, realizing Rufus's intent, felt a chill run down her spine. "—Because if men like these really were Wardens of 'Boots,' then in order to protect Kargal's honor, I would have to launch a Heresy Inquisition against this city itself."