“It was me?”
If they were in a cartoon then a large question mark would appear above Roland’s head. The old man had a similar frame to his father but was slightly shorter. Was devoid of scarring but there was a certain thing in his eyes that made him seem like a battle-hardened warrior that had made it through many battles with monsters and humans alike.
There was a clear difference in levels between them which Roland was unable to check with his a.n.a.lyzing skill. It was clear that just like the woman he met in the village he probably had an item that kept his status hidden away.
‘Wait, did Loreena mention me to this person?’
This was the only answer he could come up with. The high leveled paladin singled him out almost instantly as if he knew him, probably the magical letters that she sent out had reached his hand. The question was what was in those letters, did she put in a good word for him, or was he about to get captured by the church instead?
“Young man, you are the one called Wayland are you not?”
While Roland’s mind was racing to comprehend this man’s motives the paladin arrived right before him. The soldiers from the city seemed offended but after taking one look at the man they backed away. This was obviously an inquisitor level threat to them, no one besides a proper n.o.ble would be able to go against them.
In this world of fantasy and magic, evil sorcerers, witches, and evil cults were quite real. It was up to the holy knights and priests to put an end to their dastardly deeds. Witches that performed evil curses were hunted down, evil cults were eradicated and anyone willing to aid them followed a similar fate. If an inquisitor found a person in cahoots with someone deemed a heretic then this person’s life was forfeit. Even the soldiers here knew that with one word the paladin could turn their world into h.e.l.l.
“That’s right, I’m Wayland…”
Without having much choice he replied, the man’s presence was truly tremendous. If he compared it to the creature he recently faced and the tier 3 woman he met then this person’s presence was vastly superior. It was as if a large predator was glaring at him ready to bite his head off and he had no way of escaping.
“Remove your helmet.”
“You want me to remove my helmet?”
“Yes.”
If Roland was apprehensive about one thing was removing his helmet and showing his face to people that he did not know. Many years had pa.s.sed since the old incident with his family but this trait still was with him. He was slowly working on it yet even in the city he lived in he mostly covered his face partially by a hood.
“How dare you make the inquisitor repeat himself!”
His character flaw of not seeing people above him differently made him cause a scene. One of the shiny white knights that was with this old man didn't appreciate the lowly uncultured adventurer's response. Roland could even see the man move his hand towards his sword ready to strike him down.
Luckily the old man that was now revealed to be an actual inquisitor raised his hand which caused the knight to stop shouting and to back off. This was probably his chance to show some respect thus he begrudgingly decided to go ahead with the request. There was no way of running away and if a scary inquisitor was asking for something it was probably better to capitulate.
“Hm…?”
The old man’s eyes met with Roland’s almost instantly he thought that he was looking at some kind of beast. This was a difficult sensation to describe but even without his a.n.a.lyzing skill, he could feel that the gap between him and the old man here was vast as an ocean. He had felt a similar way a few times in his life, once when he met the tier 3 cult members that almost killed him or when encountering the tier 3 ant queen.
‘Could this person be above tier 3?’
The man’s eyes glowed with a golden sheen which caused his spine to tingle. His knees started to shake and he felt like dropping down to his knees. Yet after taking one step back he managed to catch himself to power through it.
Tier 3 was the barrier that Roland was attempting to cross. This was one of the reasons that he had tossed himself into this short adventure to rank up. While not by much, having a higher adventurer rank would aid him in this goal. It was considered to be the first step into becoming an elite in this world and enough strength to walk with a head held high.
Nevertheless, this was not the end of it all, there existed levels and realms of power above it. Not many were able to cross it but there existed a small number of masters that were able to reach tier 4. Just like with the other cla.s.ses the requirements were doubled, instead of fifty, a person needed one hundred levels to maximize on a tier 3 cla.s.s.
If this man was an actual tier 4 cla.s.s holder would mean that his level was at minimum three hundred and fifty-one. This was not something a person possessing a battle cla.s.s could achieve easily without tossing themselves into countless battles and surviving. Yet the feeling of the chasm between them didn’t go away, could this person truly be this monstrous?
“Hoh? Impressive.”
The man called out while going even closer, to Roland’s surprise after the eye stare down that he did not break the man’s armor began glowing. This glow was similar to his own and was followed by mystical characters similar to runes glowing on that golden armor. This magical effect took shape fast and surrounded both him and the inquisitor in a small magical bubble that seemed to be meant to keep people from the outside from peeking in.
“Not bad, I guess if you’re related to that old b.a.s.t.a.r.d then it makes sense.”
“Huh? Old b.a.s.t.a.r.d?”
The man in shiny armor moved closer and placed his hand on Roland’s armored shoulder. At first, it seemed that he wanted to help him up but instead, he delivered a smack to it which sent him down to the ground.
“I must thank you for keeping my stupid grandchild safe, I told her to be careful when dealing with those cult b.a.s.t.a.r.ds but does she ever listen to her old man?”
His armor shook violently as the man’s large mitt hit him. It felt like he was. .h.i.t by a baseball bat, if he was not a high-level tier 2 cla.s.s holder then his shoulder would have been either broken or dislocated instantly.
“Grandchild? D-do you mean Loreena?”
“The same, I got her letter and rushed over! She said that she was aided by a man in armor and to think it was someone like you? Tell me boy, how does that old b.a.s.t.a.r.d Wentworth fare? Are you his son? or perhaps a grandchild? You do look similar but luckily you aren’t half as ugly as him, ho ho ho!”
The man was overly chatty for some reason and started laughing as if he was a certain fat old man dressed in red. Yet after one name was mentioned it sent Roland’s mind spinning, Wentworth was the name of his father. By how this old man was referring to him by his name and even calling him an old b.a.s.t.a.r.d then they had to be old friends.
‘Is this some kind of old war comrade of my ‘father’? This could be bad… Will he try to drag me back to the estate? Wait… he probably only saw my last name but he doesn’t actually know who I am…’
It was clear that the inquisitor here had seen his status page. This was the first time the magical item that he received from the gnome had failed him. He had to consider that his whole name of Roland Arden was known to him. The man seemed to recognize his facial features that were also similar to his father's which made it hard to dodge the a.s.sumption.
Claiming that he was from some far-away family would be hard if he looked similar to Wentworth Arden. Yet this brought another question to Roland’s mind, should he actually care about his father finding him at this point? He had already gone down the path of a Runesmith that would make it impossible for him to become a knight.
Would he even be forced to abandon his current home? He was a lowly fourth son of a baron with not much worth. Normally his fate would have been to join the knight academy like his older brother Robert. There he would become a soldier to slowly gain merits and finally probably be forced to marry a daughter of a merchant or some lower n.o.ble to garner better relations.
But with his current status as a runesmith, this path would be hard to proceed in. He had no proper training when it came to n.o.ble relations so his family would probably wish to hide his presence at this point. It wouldn't be strange if they just left him in the backwater village just like Arthur Valerian was sent away.
“Man of a few words? You really do take after him… Roland is it? Was there a brat with a name like that or are you perhaps…”
While Roland was racking his brain about his response the man continued to talk. It seemed before he could even answer the inquisitor came to some kind of conclusion as he smacked his shoulder yet again.
“Oh, so that’s it! That scoundrel! It must have been hard for you!”
“Huh?”
“To think that b.a.s.t.a.r.d would go around producing more offspring than he already has, he really is an ogre!”
“Um… what?”
The more the man talked the more he was confused. For some reason, the high-ranking church member he was facing had a vivid imagination. Without being able to remember Wentworth’s children he presumed that Roland was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d son made out of wedlock. This was not uncommon as many n.o.bles sired children that they let out in the world to fend for themselves. This made Wentworth Arden look bad but was a good resolution to the situation.
“Don’t worry boy, when I meet your father I’ll be sure to…”
“No please don’t!”
The old man started shaking his fist while talking but before he could continue Roland shouted out to stop him. He did not want to have this scary man go to his father, one mention of his name would reveal his secret. Even though he wasn’t as afraid of meeting up with his old man again as he was in the past, this was something that he still wished to postpone as much as he could. The best would be after he achieved tier 3 status and would not be that easily bullied.
“Is that so? It seems that you do not wish me to speak to that b.a.s.t.a.r.d of a father of yours, very well! This old man will do so!”
“Ah? Yes, thank you.”
To his surprise, the man was quick to accept the proposal but even then Roland was not sure what would happen if he ever met his father. How deep was their relationship and how often did they run into each other. The man was a high-level church inquisitor that could even order n.o.ble armies around. He probably did not have that much time on his hands to talk and he could not see how his stoic father would enjoy the company of a blabbermouth like this.
“You must forgive this old man, your name brought back old forgotten memories. What I wish to ask you was not about your lineage but about the Abyssal Cult, Loreena’s letter brought some things to light but I would like to hear your recount of the event.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Sir? Just call me Bartholomew.”
“Um, Sir Bartholomew then…”
“Ho ho, have it your way then.”
After receiving a few more smacks to his poor shoulder that felt like it was about to break Roland gave a recount of the situation. It was a very similar tale to what he told Loreena but this time around he was a lot more nervous. Even though this man was acting like a nice grandfather it could have been all an act.
He was also an inquisitor that probably had experience in interrogating people, perhaps he would see through his lies if he tried. This he avoided by constructing his sentences in such a way that he would not be caught lying. Instead of mentioning his debugging skill he only confirmed that he found the core rune to disable the illusion. Loreena’s self-named grandfather just kept nodding all the way until he was finished with the story.
“I see, I must thank you again! But I also must ask you to keep this a secret.”
“Of course.”
“I didn’t think that I would meet such a lad like you here, a reward is called for but I did not take anything worthwhile with…”
“If I may speak?”
“Oh go ahead, do you have something in mind?”
“Yes, if it's a reward… could you keep my involvement in this incident a secret?”
“Hoh, you do not wish to be named? … I see very well.”
Roland took the opportunity to ask for a small favor. Riches was not what he wanted but if his name could be kept from the records then perhaps it could keep him safe in the future. After meeting this man he realized that this incident could be bigger than he antic.i.p.ated. This whole region could turn into a fighting ground as the cultists would surely not allow the church to get their hands on their relic.
“This has been a good talk but I must now be on my way, those cultist snakes have to be taken care of!”
Roland was not sure about what conversation he was talking about as it was mostly one-sided babbling from the old man. Even when he tried to give a recount of what happened he was interrupted many times. Luckily it seemed that he was in no danger of being taken in for further questioning as the barrier around them was removed.
“Everyone, we are leaving!”
Bartholomew moved back towards his horse while everyone else kept quiet. The church knights started moving back into formation towards the area where the cultist-run village was. Before leaving there was another lucky turn of events as this was not the end of the man’s orders.
“You belong to the city guard, right?”
“Y-yes sir inquisitor.”
He called out to the leader of the knights that had come here first.
“You shall come with us, we need more able men to contend with this blight.”
“But the Lord has ordered us to…”
“You dare refuse the order of the Inquisitor?”
The knight that was here quickly shrunk back as the same church knight that previously shouted at Roland turned towards him now. Bartholomew had the power to force forces like this to move on his own accord.
“I dare not! But what about these…”
“They do not belong to the cult, I feel no presence of the abyss here let them pa.s.s.”
Bartholomew put on his helmet and after glancing in Roland’s direction. For a moment his eyes focused on the young man before he signaled his horse to move forward. The rumbling of hooves resumed as the whole place cleared out, even the hired mercenaries and adventurers followed after the church knights that were the leading force here.
“Wayland… what… how?”
The predicament was over and almost instantly the adventurers swarmed around Roland. They all started shouting and asking questions. How was it possible for an adventurer like him to catch the eye of an inquisitor? It was baffling to them but to the man himself, it wasn’t much different.
‘What just happened here…’
Roland could only shrug his shoulders as he didn’t know how to react. Was he supposed to be shocked, stressed, or rea.s.sured that the scary inquisitor didn’t burn him at the stake? One thing was for sure, he needed to get out of here quickly and get back to his home…