Chapter 59 : The Shadow’s Reckoning

Bishop Mayra.

“That’s… the first time I’ve received something like this,” Curtis  murmured. “Is there a hidden meaning here? Some veiled summons by the Church?”

He held the parchment back out to Jenny. She read it carefully, then shook her head.

“No, nothing covert. Take it exactly as it reads. The Bishop is requesting to see you… personally.”

“So it’s not an order?”

“Correct. But unless you have a strong reason, there’s little cause to decline.”

“Well… fair enough.”

Deacons could be found in any chapel. Priests were not rare in the towns and cities. But a Bishop… was another matter entirely.

Technically, a bishop was the spiritual leader of a diocese. But in practice, there were rarely enough clergy who could meet the requirements for elevation. One had to wield the sixth miracle, a feat beyond all but the most gifted and devoted. There simply weren’t enough to go around.

So, often, a single bishop governed multiple dioceses, delegating their duties to senior priests of noble character.

In truth, while the Church and secular nobility could never be compared directly, a bishop’s standing was akin to a patriarch of a great noble house—one that ruled not just a city, but hearts, faiths, and spirits.

By that measure, Bishop Mayra stood far above mere lords like Gauwd or Narok, whose factions had failed even to grasp half of Nizerthe.

And considering the Church was the only power with roots reaching across the known world… even that comparison was generous.

For a mere silver-ranked mercenary—unaffiliated with any noble bloodline or ecclesiastic order—to receive a personal summons from such a figure? It should have been a great honor.

But Curtis , never one for blind faith—neither in this world nor the one he came from—was wary of accepting anything without thought.

“Do you have any idea why I was summoned?” he asked Jenny.

She tilted her head, thoughtful.

“No details were included in Lilia’s letter either. Perhaps… the Bishop is simply curious? No one else has managed to survive more than a month at Lilia’s side.”

“That’s because they were nowhere near Curtis ’s level!” Lilia piped up indignantly. “Skill, drive, dedication—he outclasses them in everything!”

“And yet,” Jenny added wryly, “you paid him less than half the usual commission.”

“Ugh—!”

“If Curtis  hadn’t been kind-hearted, a lesser mage would have left—or worse, demanded their coin in full, loudly.”

“Ghh…”

“And let’s be honest, there are no more worthwhile hunts nearby. If you’re both leaving the frontier anyway, perhaps it’s time to formally end the commission—”

“No! We can’t end it yet!”

Lilia, visibly deflated from Jenny’s barrage of facts, suddenly jolted upright and latched onto Curtis ’s sleeve like a pup abandoned at the gate.

“Brother Curtis … you’re not leaving, are you?”

“Where there are meetings, partings must follow.”

“W-What?! Brother?!”

“…That was a joke.”

Curtis  struggled to suppress his grin as he gently calmed her.

“Since you’ve been summoned and I’ve been invited, we’ll go to Abacar together, shall we?”

“…Will you come back to the frontier after?”

“If there’s still work left undone, absolutely. I’m not the kind to vanish without a word. You’ve no need to worry.”

“That’s a relief…”

Lilia sighed, visibly reassured. Jenny sighed too—though hers carried a different weight.

“You don’t need to humor her this much,” she said. “Don’t feel obligated.”

“I don’t,” Curtis  replied with a smile. “I help because I want to. For now, at least.”

“And I want Curtis  to stay forever!”

“Ah… Thank you.”

Jenny straightened. “So, then. You’ll accept the invitation?”

“I will.”

“Good. The next church courier departs on the fifteenth. We’ll set your departure for then.”

That left ten days.

Curtis  nodded. “Please take care of the arrangements.”

Jenny returned the nod. “In that case, during the next ten days—”

“No more hunts,” Lilia cut in swiftly. “Let Brother Curtis  rest.”

“I was going to suggest sparring!”

“That’s still not rest!”

“It’s fine,” Curtis  said with a chuckle. “I’m open to anything.”

Whether hunting beasts or dueling Lilia, the experience gained was roughly the same.
It didn’t matter much either way.

Even if he did nothing at all, he’d eventually get bored and find something to entertain himself. So truly—anything was fine.

Lilia’s eyes lit up once more, Jenny sighed again, and Curtis  simply smiled. This rhythm had become… oddly familiar. A new kind of peace.

Ten days passed.

Curtis , Lilia, and their party departed on the scheduled courier route and arrived safely in Abacar after five days’ travel.

Wasting no time, they went directly to the Cathedral.

Lilia and Jenny were summoned first. Only after their meeting did Curtis  receive his audience.

“It’s good to finally meet you.”

The Bishop’s chambers were spacious but restrained—well-appointed, not ostentatious.

The woman seated within was in her middle years, her poise graceful with time, her eyes sharp and clear. A gaze that weighed and measured.

“You’re Curtis , yes?”

“Yes, Your Excellency…”

“Mayra,” she corrected gently. “There’s no need for titles here. Speak freely.”

“…Thank you for the kindness.”

She poured the tea herself, then half-closed her eyes and savored the aroma, though whether she was truly enjoying it—or observing him through the steam—was difficult to say.

Curtis  sipped his tea calmly, waiting.

Only when the cup was half empty did Mayra speak again.

“With each courier’s return from the frontier, your name came up again and again. You’ve become something of a legend within the diocese.”

“Have I?”

“There’s no need for modesty. In just two months, you’ve accomplished more than some mercenaries do in years.”

“That’s likely because their standards were lower, not because mine are higher.”

Curtis ’s tone was casual—truthful, not humble.

And in that moment, Mayra’s eyes gleamed ever so slightly.

Though the Eastern Frontier was often hailed as one of the busiest battlefields for mercenaries in the world, most of its blades were dull—Iron and Bronze ranks, more rust than edge.

It was no different than Earth, where the highly educated sought white-collar prestige over the sweat of blue-collar work.
The more capable a man was, the more he reached for “comfort” and “honor.”