Red Riding Hood - Chapter 53
Through Ylfus’s messenger hawk, Sird, Bétor roughly determined Ylfus’s location and immediately began searching the nearby vast forest.
Led by Bétor, the knights of Kalasca and Leardon’s mercenaries soon discovered a village near the spot Ylfus had indicated. However, the village was exceedingly suspicious.
The gloomy, ash-gray settlement, shrouded in smoke rising from chimneys, was populated by eerie residents wearing beast masks.
In the center of the village square stood something that, by all appearances, could only be a pyre.
A towering pillar rose ominously above the mound of wood, as if prepared to hang something large.
Bétor frowned as he examined the pyre and muttered,
“What is this place? This village isn’t on any map.”
Leardon chimed in,
“This cursed forest doesn’t belong to any kingdom. It’s a land shunned by all, haunted by the ghost of a fallen dynasty. This village is likely a settlement of displaced refugees or wandering drifters.”
“I see. But where is the young master?”
As they spoke, a man wearing a white goat mask and priestly robes approached, flanked by two figures in dog masks.
The priest said,
“You are correct. This village is a refuge for those who have lost their homeland or have nowhere else to go. I am the priest who guides these poor souls under the teachings of God.”
At the word priest, Bétor stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
“Ah, a priest. I am Bétor, commander of the Chivalric Order of the Wolf, a knightly company serving His Majesty King Brian of Kalasca.”
The priest replied in a dignified tone,
“Ah, knights of the king. I understand. May I ask what brings you to this remote land?”
Bétor spoke urgently,
“We’re searching for someone—a knight named Ylfus Gracian. He is the heir of Kalasca. His appearance… well, he’s large. Large and very hairy.”
At the word hairy, the priest let out a soft sigh.
“A large, hairy man.”
The priest glanced around the village before continuing,
“As you can see, this is a small village. If someone like that had appeared, it would be difficult not to notice. However, I’ve never heard of such a person arriving here.”
Bétor grew anxious.
“Priest, if you help us find him… to honor your dedication in spreading the teachings of God in such an isolated land, I will offer gold equal to his weight.”
The priest repeated,
“Gold…”
The indifferent tone with which he uttered the word made it clear to Bétor that offering gold to strike a deal would be futile.
The priest spoke nonchalantly,
“It holds no meaning for me, but if it can provide a better life for the villagers, I wouldn’t refuse. However, knights of the king, I regret to inform you that no large, hairy knight has appeared in this village.”
In a voice as smooth as silk, he added,
“If you wish, you may search the village yourself. I ask only that you conduct your search with the utmost courtesy, so as not to alarm the villagers.”
“Thank you for your kind permission, Priest,” Bétor replied.
At that moment, Leardon, who had been scrutinizing the surroundings with a scowl, interjected,
“By the way, Goat Priest, why is everyone in this village wearing beast masks?”
Though the term Goat Priest made Quiel grit his teeth inwardly, he maintained a composed tone as he explained,
“As you likely know, this forest is a cursed land, haunted by the ghost of a fallen dynasty. The fearsome angel Azazel, who finds joy in condemning human sin, reigns over this forest. To avoid Azazel’s gaze, we wear beast masks.”
Leardon nodded, his mouth agape.
Though the priest’s words seemed dubious even to him, Leardon wasn’t a paladin like Ylfus. He was a mercenary commander who fought for coin.
As such, he had no intention of interfering with the mysterious religious practices of an isolated village. Besides, if he had to find a hairy knight like Ylfus—who was likely passed out in some tavern with his armor pawned off—it might be easier to spot him among people wearing beast masks than among a crowd of ordinary villagers.
“Also, Goat Priest,” Leardon continued, now determined to satisfy his curiosity fully, “what’s that pyre for?”
Quiel replied smoothly,
“That is for the beast to be offered as a sacrifice to Azazel. The beast will bear the sins of this land and be presented to the accuser.”
He added,
“Of course, it’s merely a symbolic ritual.”
Bétor, who had been silently observing their conversation, couldn’t help but think,
Suspicious.
