Chapter 160 - An Unconditional Absolution
Ernest and Erika spent a moment in silence, quietly gazing at each other.
Ernest tried to make sense of this chaotic situation, while Erika...
Erika simply stood there with her hands clasped behind her back, looking up at Ernest with a gentle smile.
It was as if just seeing him carried a special meaning for her.
Staring earnestly at Ernest, Erika slowly parted her lips to speak.
"Older Sister?"
"…An."
Just as Erika was about to say something, a young voice called out to her.
It was the girl who had been humming a tune as she walked by earlier.
Startled, Erika quickly stepped away from Ernest, then looked at the girl—An—with a slightly awkward smile.
By then, Ernest had already concealed the pistol Erika had been holding behind his back.
He glanced back and forth between An and Erika, trying hard to grasp what was happening.
"….."
"….."
An unnatural silence settled over the dark alley.
Seeing Ernest's deep blue officer's uniform, An instinctively took a step back.
Although she seemed a little flustered, there was no trace of fear in her expression.
Black hair, prominent cheekbones, pale skin—a Belliangian with blood from the northern region of the Empire.
Saraan Song.
A child of Saraanian descent who fled the Empire and settled in Belliang.
She was taught to be wary of Imperial officers, but she actually isn't wary at all.
She has no idea how dangerous this situation really is.
The Saaranian adults, including her parents, never properly explained the risks to her.
Maybe they felt safe just being in Belliang.
Any warnings to beware of the Imperial Army probably came only recently, after the war began.
Ernest instantly pieced the situation together just from An's appearance and reaction.
'It's possible that the villagers already know they're Saraanian.'
Perhaps they let their guard down, believing they'd be safe in Belliang, and revealed their identity.
"An, it's okay. Come here."
Erika spoke calmly as she approached An—and she spoke in Belliang. Erika's Belliang was remarkably fluent. Even Ernest, listening, could barely tell she wasn't a Belliangian; her accent was nearly perfect.
"But Dad said the Imperial Army is dangerous…"
"That's right, the Imperial Army is dangerous."
Erika knelt to meet An at eye level.
"But this Older Brother is different. Maybe other people are, but not him."
"Why not?"
"An, I'll explain everything later, but for now, can you go ask Werner to gather everyone?"
"You're just like all the other adults. You think you can brush me off just because I'm a kid, right?"
"Yeah, that's right. But if you have any complaints, take them up with your parents, not me. I had nothing to do with you being so young."
"Hmph."
An snorted at Erika's words with a sulky look, then rummaged through the cloth covering her basket, casting a quick glance at Erika.
When Erika smiled and patted her on the head, An stuck out her lips but still pulled out a piece of bread from the basket and thrust it toward Erika.
"This one's the biggest. You should be grateful to me."
"Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'll enjoy it."
After Erika took the bread, she kissed An on the forehead.
An muttered something shyly, shot a glance at Ernest, and then turned and ran deeper into the alley.
"Do you want some?"
Erika offered the bread to Ernest as she asked.
Ernest gazed at her for a moment before accepting the bread and handing her the pistol.
As soon as Erika took the pistol, she opened the powder pan, emptied out all the gunpowder, and removed the ammunition before putting it in her pocket.
She tucked the pistol behind her waist, where it was well hidden by the cape that hung down to her hips.
Ernest tore the large, tough bread in half and handed one half to Erika.
"Oh my, thank you."
Erika spoke demurely, but with a playful tone, dusted off her hands cheerfully, and took the bread.
She pinched off a soft piece from the inside and put it in her mouth.
Ernest watched her for a moment, then tilted his head.
"You don't really seem like someone who should be in the middle of enemy territory during a war."
Ernest spoke in a low voice.
That one sentence held three separate implications.
First, he was pointing out that it was unusual for a Saraanian to be in a place occupied by the Imperial Army.
Second, he was highlighting the danger for a woman like Erika to be walking around a place crawling with soldiers whose violence had peaked due to the war.
Lastly, he was implying that someone who appeared to be a noble, or at least educated as one—as Erika seemed, based on her fluent Belliang language and well-mannered way of eating bread—was out of place here in both appearance and circumstance.
From Erika's fluent Belliang and the way she ate her bread with graceful manners, Ernest realized that, even aside from being Saraanian, she hadn't grown up as the daughter of a typical farmer or fisherman.
"Are you worried about me?"
"I'm suspicious."
"Thanks for worrying, though."
"..."
"But I prefer to decide for myself where I belong."
Ernest narrowed his eyes and stared at Erika.
"You've changed, Ernest."
At Ernest's reaction, Erika murmured with a bitter smile.
"You used to get flustered so easily—it was cute."
"Enough."
Ernest cut her off firmly, putting a stop to Erika acting overly familiar, just as she had in the past.
As Erika said, Ernest really had changed.
When they first met, Ernest hadn't known much about women at all.
Erika's strange familiarity used to leave him flustered and at her mercy.
Of course, there hadn't been the slightest hint of romantic interest.
Back then, Ernest's only thought regarding Erika was, "What's wrong with this person?"
But now, Ernest had gone through too much to still be easily flustered or swayed by others as he once was.
"So why are you here?"
With a calmness that somehow came off as threatening, Ernest pressed Erika for an answer.
Despite his tone, Erika only looked up at him as she chewed her bread, seemingly unafraid.
It might seem a little odd, but strict about table manners as he was, Ernest patiently waited for Erika to finish chewing.
At House Krieger, speaking with your mouth full was simply not tolerated.
After swallowing her bread, Erika spoke in a quiet voice.
"To save people"
"...."
Upon hearing Erika's answer, Ernest was about to press her further, but only parted his lips without saying a word.
His quick mind had instantly grasped the full meaning behind Erika's words.
"…The Empire won't be rooting out the Saraanian people for now."
Ernest whispered in a low voice.
"To rule over such vast territory will require an immense administrative effort. Not even the Empire can afford to expend its resources on that kind of operation right now. Managing its own affairs is proving difficult as it is, and now they're fighting a two-front war. Just reinforcing their grip on Belliang will take at least three years, at a minimum."
Erika listened silently to Ernest.
Once he finished speaking, she responded.
"You're right. But you can't be sure, can you? Do you really think the people behind all this will act so rationally?"
"So, you really are a noble. How did you get here?"
"Wait, wait."
When Erika responded, clearly understanding his meaning, Ernest grew more certain that she really was a Saraanian noble—and pressed her even harder.
Raising both hands as if a little flustered, Erika said,
"Ernest, could we please have a normal conversation?"
"Stop talking like you're the only one who understands what's going on. I'm so confused right now."
"..."
Ernest quietly took a step back.
This time, Erika didn't try to approach him, either.
"Explain."
Ernest spoke coldly.
Erika let out a small sigh.
Still, she showed no signs of being afraid of or disappointed in Ernest.
"Then let's start with introductions, one more time."
Dressed like a man and with her hair cut short, Erika pretended to hold her skirt as she greeted Ernest.
"Erika Mayer. Just call me Erika. 'Adopted by luck'—that's how I ended up here, and I don't like the reminder."
"…Ernest Krieger."
"Yes, Ernest."
For the first time, Ernest introduced himself to Erika using his full name.
Erika smiled as she replied.
Ernest realized something in that moment: no matter what happened in the future, this woman would never call him "Krieger."
"As you know, Werner and I are Saraanian. We're here in Belliang to save Saraanian people. As for how we got into Belliang—we smuggled ourselves in on a trade ship headed toward the Northern Sea."
"When?"
Erika, who had been speaking so easily, immediately fell silent at Ernest's sharp question.
When had they snuck across the border?
Was it before the war broke out? Or after?
It might seem like a trivial detail, but it was actually very important.
If it was before the war started, how could they have known this situation would happen and snuck into Belliang in advance?
"Someone told me."
That was Erika's answer. It meant they'd come to Belliang before the war began.
If so, who had tipped them off? Who could possibly have known about the war plans that were kept secret even from the highest levels of the Military Authorities?
"Who was it?"
"I can't tell you that."
As Ernest pressed her for an answer, Erika shook her head firmly.
"All I can say is, it's not anyone you're thinking of."
"..."
If it wasn't a high-ranking official in the Empire's Military Authorities or political circles, then who on earth could have revealed such sensitive information to this young, powerless woman?
"Can we move on to the next topic?"
"…Alright."
"Anyway, that's how Werner and I came to Belliang and are helping Saraanian people escape."
"Why? And how?"
"Well, as for the method—we use ships at the Northern Sea Port."
Just as Erika herself had been smuggled in, they were now secretly transporting Saraanian people by ship to get them to safety.
"And the reason is…"
Erika let her words trail off, gazing steadily into Ernest's eyes.
She looked as if she might smile, but didn't; instead, she spoke solemnly.
"…Because it's the right thing to do."
"...."
"What do you think, Ernest? If you know that they're going to die for no reason, and you know you could stop it—do you really think it's right to just stand by and watch, doing nothing?"
As the adopted daughter of a noble house, Erika would never have been suspected of being Saraanian unless something unusual happened.
If she kept her head down, she could live and die as a noblewoman.
Even so, she risked her life to save Saraanian people she had never even met, simply because they were of the same nation.
"…What about when we met two years ago?"
Ernest recalled their meeting two years prior and asked.
Back then, Erika had been wandering the roads with Werner.
Had she already been doing this at that time?
"We were on the run then. That was before I'd even been adopted. So, Ernest—look, I appreciate your deep concern, especially since you're not planning to turn me in, but as you can see, things are a little hectic right now."
Erika stepped closer, narrowing the distance between herself and Ernest as she spoke.
Ernest sensed that Erika was somehow steering the conversation away from something.
She didn't seem to have any dark motive for wanting to save people.
Still, that couldn't be the whole story.
Erika was hiding something.
"Can you help me out?"
"..."
It sounded almost like the practiced line of a skilled swindler, and Ernest gazed calmly into her eyes.
"It's not a difficult request. I just need you to say a word. I wouldn't quite call it a trade, but I'll grant your request."
Erika's turquoise eyes sparkled.
Ernest realized something odd—Erika was asking him for help with a strange sense of conviction.
Come to think of it, Erika exhibited almost no wariness toward Ernest.
Normally, having her identity as a Saraanian exposed should have terrified her.
Just moments earlier, when they met, she had trembled in fear with a gun pointed at her.
But the moment she realized her opponent was Ernest, she relaxed completely and started chatting with him as if nothing was amiss.
How could she be so familiar and open with an officer from the Imperial Army who had secretly followed a ten-year-old girl into an alley?
"If I can do it, whatever it is—I will."
And now he was saying something so reckless it made Ernest worry for his own judgment.
"Are you crazy?"
"…Talking like that to a girl, you're going to make yourself unpopular."
At Ernest's earnest remark, Erika shot back in a sulky, almost threatening tone. Ernest, overwhelmed, pressed his forehead with his hand.
"..."
Erika's gaze followed Ernest's fingertips. His left hand, battered and practically mangled from broken or torn-off fingernails during the battle in the forest before the Bertebras Mountains, was still a mess.
Erika's face twisted in pain, but it returned to normal once Ernest lowered his hand.
"I'll just listen for now."
After some deliberation, Ernest decided that, for now, he would simply hear what Erika's request was.
At those words, Erika smiled softly, as if she fully expected Ernest to grant her request.
"Leaving behind everything and settling in a new place isn't easy, you know. The people who fled the Empire and made a life here are terrified of having to run again. That's why, even when they know the risk, they simply look the other way and hope everything will be fine."
"So you need a villain?"
"No!"
Ernest wondered if Erika wanted to use him, an Imperial officer, as a bogeyman obsessed with hunting down Saraanian refugees, to scare the villagers into alertness.
But when he asked, Erika recoiled in shock, frantically waving her hands.
She was so startled that she stepped right up and grabbed onto Ernest's jacket.
"It's the opposite, the complete opposite. That's not what I want at all."
Clutching Ernest's jacket tightly, Erika spoke urgently.
Noticing how close she'd gotten, her face flushed with embarrassment; she let go, stepping back.
Her hands brushed over the wrinkled fabric of his jacket and lightly drummed against his chest as she let go.
"If a just, upright, tall, young, handsome, dashing Imperial officer—someone who can't stand wrongdoing—came to warn them, maybe then they'd finally open their eyes, face reality, and flee."
Ernest wondered if things like height, age, and looks really mattered for this, tilting his head as he studied Erika's eyes.
Erika held his gaze for a moment, then bashfully looked away. Sweat, brought on by the sweltering summer heat, ran down her smooth forehead.
"…If you just said those words, Ernest, you could save so many lives
Erika swallowed hard, then looked at Ernest again, her nerves plain to see.
"So please, help us."
She still seemed so sure that Ernest would help her.
Yet, the desperation in her voice was suffocating, heavy and earnest, regardless of that conviction.
There was no way to know for certain if the authorities in Belliang would start rounding up Saraanian people.
Even if it did happen someday, it was certainly not happening yet.
And there was no guarantee that this would truly save anyone, even if she was right.
All reason fell apart under scrutiny.
So even if Ernest stepped in here to help Erika hide the Saraanian refugees, he couldn't really say he was saving them.
After all, Ernest had no real reason to help them in the first place.
As an officer of the Empire, he really ought to report and arrest the Saraanian people instead.
Still, he couldn't bring himself to make a decision easily.
'The people who can survive should survive.'
He thought of Yurgen—already gone—who had died for Ernest, a man he'd barely known. The words Yurgen had muttered in his misery echoed in his mind.
"…All right."
Ernest didn't turn Erika down. Just as she'd said, if this small act could even possibly save lives, he thought he ought to do it. And maybe, just maybe, it would help wash away some of the blood on his own hands.
"Thank you."
Still holding Ernest, Erika spoke in a voice trembling on the verge of tears.
Her shaky hand slowly stroked Ernest's back.
"Because of you, so many people will have a chance to live."
"..."
"You're the one who saved them, Ernest."
It didn't sound like just gratitude.
Strangely, Ernest felt like she was the one trying to comfort him.
And maybe she was.
"I'm glad you're such a kind person."
"…Let go."
Ernest gently pushed Erika away—not forcefully, but softly.
Erika stepped back without resistance.
She gave a slightly wistful smile.
Ernest's face, oddly enough, was twisted in pain.
"Do you smoke?"
"..."
At the sudden question, Erika finally broke into a real smile.
"You have to smell nice if you want girls to like you. Ernest, the smell of cigarettes is a no."
"Isn't it just you who doesn't like the smell of cigarettes?"
"That's right."
Erika answered Ernest's question without hesitation, speaking with a smile.
"Think about something you'd like me to do for you. Anything's fine."
"What if I ask for something unreasonable? What are you going to do then?"
"You will? Something unreasonable?"
Erika's eyes sparkled with amusement.
Ernest frowned slightly.
Erika was clearly convinced that he would never ask her for such a favor.
Ernest didn't want anything from Erika.
Even if she hadn't offered, he would probably have helped the Saraanian people escape.
Still, seeing her so confident made him want to tease her.
"Can you do a handstand and run ten laps around the village?"
"...Do you really want me to do that?"
"I just decided I do."
"…Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Are you really going to be like this? There's nothing else? There must be something. I said I'd do anything—anything!"
"There's nothing."
"I know you're just saying this to tease me. You're not actually going to make me do it, are you?"
"What if I really did? Would you do it?"
Erika glared at Ernest with a face full of annoyance, but then she suddenly gave him an incredibly warm smile.
"You're not a kid—so childish."
Erika grabbed Ernest by the wrist and started walking.
For a moment, Ernest tried to shake her hand off.
But then he realized it was just an overreaction, something the war had done to him, and he hesitated.
"Think of something real."
As she walked ahead, Erika spoke.
"Really, if it's something you want, I'll do anything for you."
There was a tone of determined resolve in her voice.
And at the same time, there was a hint of loneliness.
"Anything except walking around the village ten times on my hands. Or nine or eleven times, for that matter. Actually, let's just skip the part where I have to walk on my hands at all."
"Then it's not really anything, is it?"
"I said I'd do anything that I can actually do."
"And what is it that you can do?"
Ernest asked Erika.
It wasn't meant to provoke her; it was genuine curiosity.
Erika stopped abruptly.
She whipped her head around to glare at Ernest, her face flushed red.
She shot him a wordless, warning look, and then started walking again, still firmly gripping his wrist.
Ernest felt he needed to make a serious study of Erika's unpredictable and often inappropriate responses—reactions that defied his expectations of the situation.
Aside from Marie, he had never had much in-depth conversation with any women, so there weren't enough examples for him to fully grasp Erika's behavior.
Not even the countless teachings of his esteemed Father Haires or his respected mentor Captain Thomas Kohler had included any guidance on how to analyze the psychology of such irregular and disorderly beings.
To him, women were like wild animals he'd never seen before.
Those unknown creatures, who might have been expected to glare at him with guarded eyes and run away, suddenly approached fearlessly, took him by the hand, or pulled him close—and who wouldn't be flustered by that?
Or maybe it was just Erika who was like this.
If all women were truly this unpredictable and chaotic, that would be nothing short of a disaster.