Chapter 58

The rain that had started drizzling just before dusk was wetting the road of Batinshuku Street.

In front of the sign that read "Izakaya Nobu," a young lantern bearer had been pacing back and forth for some time.

He was not just any lantern bearer.

Enrico Bellardino, one of the confidants serving the Archbishop.

A young monk known as a rising star in the Instructive Holy Province, he was one of those who distanced himself from the Holy Kingdom, agreeing with the Archbishop's classical revival theory.

The Archbishop valued him as a useful pawn that wouldn't wear out easily.

The reason Enrico was observing Izakaya Nobu was due to a secret report.

"Izakaya Nobu is a den of witches."

This information was brought by a small man named Damian, who had recently become close to the Archbishop. Though he appeared to be a vulgar figure, like a gang leader, he unexpectedly had a good education. Therefore, the Archbishop also treasured him as a reliable pawn.

"Could there really be witches here?"

The existence of witches was significant to the classical revivalists.

By hunting down the witches in this land, they aimed to prove the corruption of the Instructive Holy Province and the necessity of returning to the old, correct teachings.

If they returned to the old, correct teachings, the wicked would vanish immediately.

Thus, Enrico's responsibility was grave.

He had to verify whether witches really gathered in this izakaya.

He had been exposed to the rain for some time but had not found any clues.

It was unlikely that witches would reveal their true identities so easily, but this situation was leading to a deadlock.

If he lingered here any longer, his own safety would be at risk.

With that in mind, he boldly pulled open the glass door. At that moment, Enrico was enveloped by a strange warmth.

"Welcome!"

"…Thank you."

Perhaps because he had been drenched in the cold rain, the welcoming voice sounded pleasant.

I won't be fooled, Enrico muttered to himself.

The charming waitress, the young girl washing dishes, and the woman who looked like a newlywed wiping tables—any of them could be witches. The male owner could also be a witch.

According to the traditions of past witch hunts, male witches were not uncommon.

He couldn't afford to be deceived.

When he settled at the counter, warm towels and a small dish were brought to him without him asking. They seemed to be called oshibori and otoshi.

The hospitality was welcome for his hands, which were frozen to the core. Was this a strategy to lower his guard and infiltrate his heart?

"What would you like to order?"

"…Warm water. I don't drink alcohol."

After answering, he thought he had made a mistake.

Would a mere lantern bearer say such a thing?

For Enrico, who had spent a long time in the training grounds, this was his first visit to an izakaya. Not ordering alcohol might be considered terribly impolite.

This unease slowly crept into his heart.

However, it seemed this unease was just a misgiving.

The waitress smiled and brought him a ceramic cup of warm water.

Holding it, the warmth gradually melted his tired hands.

The dish was a small fish stew.

Enrico, who usually didn't eat strongly flavored dishes, found this sweet and savory fish stew surprisingly palatable.

He almost ordered the same dish again but suppressed the urge with a sculpted-stone-like self-control.

Attachment was corruption, and corruption was the defeat of faith. While warming his body with the warm water, he subtly observed the inside of the izakaya.

Was this place really a den of witches?

Strange decorations and furnishings, which he had never seen even in documents, occupied various parts of the shop.

Foreign menus, colorful bottles of alcohol, and model ships in bottles.

Especially, the altar of a foreign god enshrined at the back of the shop emitted a strong power.

There was a reasonable reason why the chaste Enrico Bellardino, who had never set foot in an izakaya, was chosen for this reconnaissance mission.

He could sense otherworldly powers.

Evil powers, holy powers, or powers that were neither.

Various powers filled the natural world, constantly changing.

Even among monks who had undergone strict training, only a handful could sense such powers.

Thus, the mission assigned to Enrico was significant.

"What would you like to order?"

The waitress asked again, but Enrico couldn't answer.

Upon careful consideration, he realized he didn't know what would be served in such a place.

While training under the Archbishop as a classical revivalist, he had only eaten bread, stew, and watered-down wine. Occasionally, pudding.

He hardly ate meat or fish, and his diet was mostly vegetables.

"Something warm."

After saying this, he thought it was a foolish request.

However, the waitress smiled and nodded.

Perhaps his disguise as a lantern bearer gave the impression of a young man unfamiliar with such places. In any case, it was good. He seemed to have avoided suspicion.

Looking around again, the izakaya was moderately busy.

Fortunately, no suspicious eyes had been cast his way.

He couldn't let his guard down. The possibility that this was a den of witches, where heretical beliefs swirled, was very real.

However, Enrico couldn't definitively judge the mysterious power from the heretical altar as evil.

"Here you are, chawanmushi!"

"Thank you."

While almost overwhelmed by the cheerful smile, he accepted the dish.

The chawanmushi, a dish with ingredients, seemed like a pudding.

Though the name sounded foreign, it was familiar to him.

Moreover, a dish with ingredients was perfect for determining whether this place was a den of witches.