Owari no Seraph – Kyuuketsuki Mikaela no Monogatari v1c2 part1

The Serial Killer

Europe of the 13th century was a world of God and religion.

Everyone believed in God and thought that they would be granted a happy life if only they prayed to Him.

Crowley Eusford wasn’t an exception, being under the impression that following God’s will was the way to attain happiness.

But these days, every time he closed his eyes, he always saw the same dream.

The worst nightmare of a dream where he killed and killed and killed people on the battlefield under the banner of God’s name; where his comrades kept being atrociously slain; where pagans, with tanned skin and eyes alight with flames of hatred, kept unleashing attacks on him and his comrades.

Ah, ah, there it was again, that dream. As if he was a sinner and God kept showing him that dream every night to punish him. Even though he believed in God so much.

Even though I believe in Him so much…

“…”

But this was where Crowley Eusford woke up from his dream, all because a gritty sound of swords clashing nearby reached his ears.

The same instance, his hand flew for the sword on his belt, before he remembered: ah, he wasn’t on the battlefield anymore.

Ever since he had returned from that war, he had become very jumpy like this. Especially he couldn’t handle the sound of swords clashing. The moment he heard it, his heart started pounding hard and he was on high alert, ready to fight.

It had been more than a year now since he had last stood on the battlefield, but strangely enough, he still couldn’t quite find peace.

Around him, 10 boys fought in pairs with dull bladed training swords. The place was the training grounds for training knight apprentices that Crowley himself made by clearing the yard of his own house. For a while now, teaching swordplay here was what put food on Crowley’s table. It was a second practice of the day, and he ended up dozing off in the middle of it.

“That was rude of me.”

With a wry smile, Crowley got up and clapped his hands twice. The apprentices put away their swords in a hurry and lined up in a row in front of Crowley.

“That’s it for today. You all got better since our last practice.”

Though he did think how shamelessly false-sounding the line was, the faces of most of the apprentices lit up with joy.

“Thank you for today!”

Only one tall boy sent him a glare. “How could you see any of our progress when you were nodding off, Crowley-sensei?” he said.

Crowley took a closer look at him. The boy was 16 or 17, with a few faded pockmarks on his face, a good body build and a decent amount of muscle. He was probably confident in his strength. In his sword skills, as well, and also, in the influence of his parents.

It was easy to gather that much from the expression on his face.

“What is your name?”

”…“

“What would a Templar Knight be doing at a training school of an out in the sticks town like this?”

Gilbert stopped in front of the sitting Crowley and addressed him, “It has been a long time, Crowley-sama.”

The students, who watched the scene unfold from a distance, started making a commotion again, making Crowley think that perhaps he needed to start their education from the basics of a knight’s manners and mindset rather than of swordplay.

Looking up at Gilbert, outloud he said, “Drop the ’-sama’, Gilbert. These days, you’re a much greater man than I am.”

But Gilbert paid his request no mind and continued, “Crowley-sama. Why do you not attend church anymore?”

It looked like he didn’t intent to let up on the formalities anytime soon.

He was always like that, forever uncompromising if he believed that what he was doing was right. But that was the precise reason why he kept believing in God even on that wretched battlefield.

A shadow of worry clouded Gilbert’s expression as he asked, “Ever since that war, you stopped coming to church. Naturally, I know the feeling, too, and I understand it. So many of our comrades fell in that war. It pains our hearts so, and some even lost the most precious thing there is - their faith.”

“But you are not like that, sir, I am sure. You saved so many of our comrades. Including me, of course. If not for you, I…”

But Crowley interrupted him, “It wasn’t me who saved you. It was God, Gilbert, because He saw how unshakeable your faith was.” A bitter smile threatened to twist his lips at how ridiculous it was that these words came out of the mouth of someone like him - someone who had started to lose his faith in God.

However, to that Gilbert answered, still gazing at him fixedly, “Even if so, it only means that you, another survivor of that war, are also a person chosen by Our Lord.”

“Crowley-sama.”

Gilbert gazed at Crowley, “I would like to recommend you for the position. Our comrades all agree with me. If only you attended the assembly…”

“Your achievements in that wretched war shine so bright that it is not an exaggeration to call them uniquely outstanding. Bearing the noble intention to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your comrades in your heart, you saved a great many of them. Risking your life, you slew legions of enemies. I cannot think of anyone who could be worthier than—”

But Crowley laughed at that, “Sacrificing myself, eh. If I’m that great a man as you say, then why didn’t I make good on my self-sacrificing intention and die there? Why am I still living without a care in the world?”

“Hahaha!” Crowley burst out laughing.

He couldn’t imagine himself as being chosen by Lord no matter how he tried. If anything, what he saw was not God but Devil.

In the battles to take back the Holy Land, he killed and killed pagans, flying justice in the name of God, but in the end, he never caught even a glimpse of Him.

What he did glimpse was Devil.

“…”

For whatever reason, on that battlefield, he ended up seeing a monster that sucked human blood. Although now, more than a year later, and him living every day in peace, it had become impossible to ascertain if what he had seen there was real or a hallucination.

But even if it was just a figment of his imagination, he… there and then, at that place where he needed God, in whom he believed so much, the most, he failed to catch even a glimpse of Him.

That’s why Crowley reiterated, “…In any case, I’m not worthy.”

Gilbert’s next question was cutting, “Then, do you want me to believe that teaching children of nobility swordplay in this backwoods town is what your worth amounts to?”

Crowley tossed a glance at his students, watching the two of them from a distance, and replied, “Unlike me, these kids have a future, and teaching them is an important duty.”

“They just want to use the banner of a hero, no? And I don’t feel like meddling in petty politics.”

Before he could check himself, Crowley blurted out, “Listen, Gilbert, the name of the Lord is not to be taken in vain like that.”

“That’s a royal bother.”

In reply to that, Crowley informed him, “Sorry, Jose, not sharing my lunch with you.”

“And I distinctly remember telling you not to come here anymore.”

“Nothing good will come out of being by the side of someone like me.”

But for some reason, at that, Jose gave him a proud look. “I am absolutely sure that that is not so! Serving Crowley Eusford-sama, the hero of the Crusades, is a great honor that my humble self does not deserve!” he said with an impossibly bright and sunny smile.

Losing this round, Crowley smiled with a strained smile. “The hero, huh.”

He had already heard that earlier today and was frankly fed up with the hero talk for one day.

Not to mention that he didn’t consider himself a hero in the first place.

At the very least, for a Knight Templar, to be killed in battle was supposed to be the greatest honor. Surrender was out of question, especially for the higher ranking knights. If so, then just what honor was there for the defeated commander?

Meanwhile Jose continued joyfully, “Today, too, I was asking the other surviving knights about your heroic deeds in the war that they had witnessed! Can I please tell you what they told me?”

“Please allow me!”

“Because I thought you might have forgotten!”

“Good grief, go home in the evening at least.”

“Nothing I would need your help with.”

“Hm~ I was just going to go out and check if anything is disturbing public peace.” Because it wouldn’t do to keep getting food for doing nothing. “So Jose, call it a day and go home already.”

But Jose wasn’t about to, firing off with excitement plastered all over his face, “I see! Nothing less from you, Crowley-sama! They say protecting public peace is the most important job of a knight! Please allow me to accompany you!”

So he was going to tag along, huh.

Crowley sighed, “Haa”, and his hand made to reach for the rosary on his neck again.

It was the force of habit.

For your heart to be one with God. Always with God.

Before the war, he had no doubt that God lived in his heart, as well…

Chapter end