The Hated Hero: Sigil-Powered Warrior-Chapter 33: Dean Victor Peterson

The sun was starting to sink when Immanuel and Vicar Starseeker awakened. Nothing hinted to someone having snuck towards them and stolen anything from them—Vicar Starseeker’s bow lay next to her and Justus’s axe rested near Immanuel.

More importantly, the scroll case and the access document were still in the pouch where Immanuel found them earlier.

With night coming, they hunted and foraged dinner. They decided on stewed and roasted rabbit, owing to there being many of them in the area.

When they had settled for dinner, at the same spot they stopped, Immanuel initiated a conversation.

"I wonder how Hierophant Hawking’s doing."

"Likely dead. Killed by Hargrave." How is she nonchalant about that? She then continued munching. Immanuel noted that, throughout the time she answered him, her eyes were fixed on the skewered piece of rabbit on her hand.

After a brief pause, she continued. "You’ve lived in the Cathedral for weeks. I’ve worked with Hierophant Hawking for years. He’s always been that kind of cleric... where there’s injustice, he’ll do everything to fix it."

Immanuel nodded. "So that explains everything he had done for me."

"And for many others too. For the longest time he’d been a speck of sand in the nobles’ eyes. And finally—today—they took action. He had broken major religious laws in past weeks, all in the name of justice, and they capitalized on that fact."

"I’m sorry."

Vicar Starseeker turned to Immanuel, her face grim. "You should be, yet you should not be. For a man like Hierophant Hawking, it’s nothing to him. He had it coming, so to say. The only thing we can do is move on and not let his sacrifice be in vain. But after this..."

She looked down at the skewered piece of rabbit again.

Then after the brief pause, she continued, "Whatever happens next, you are on your own."

What are you saying? Of course I’ll sort it out myself. Immanuel merely nodded, eyebrow raised in confusion.

"I take it that we have an understanding?"

Once again, Immanuel nodded. But this time, his eyebrow was no longer raised. "So... are we headed to a library after this?"

"Not yet, Maier."

"I see." If I’ll have time, I should get this axe looked into.

The next day, Immanuel and Vicar Starseeker sat against a tree. It was the same tree Immanuel set Vicar Starseeker against the day before. They had never moved elsewhere, especially that, after they had supper, Vicar Starseeker sent out a tiny winged steel ball that contained a message written on a tiny piece of paper: PICK US UP TOMORROW. Vicar Starseeker never said anything about the message she sent, even as Immanuel hinted to his curiosity about it many times that night.

Considering that I could no longer catch even a hint of the Cathedral from here, and I could not even see the roof of a single house from here, is she seriously asking someone to come all the way here, perhaps riding a mule and bringing another two for us? And then bring us back where they came from?

Immanuel and Vicar Starseeker sat against a tree, waiting for that someone who was to pick them up. After the passing of what felt like an hour that morning, the winged steel ball returned to her, wings still flapping, bringing with it earth-shaking stomps and the friction of metal on metal.

Immanuel rose, axe ready to strike. "Calm down, Maier. That’s our transport." He sat back down against the tree. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"What kind of beast is picking us up?"

"You’ll see," she replied with a smirk.

"And would its presence not be—"

"You’ll see," she interrupted.

As time passed, the stomps grew louder, and with each step, the earth where they sat shook with greater intensity. When the stomping was still far away from them, some dirt would get kicked up and some tiny stones would roll. But now that it was closer to them, even fist-sized stones jumped.

And the leaves. First, a few loose, dried leaves fell when they first heard the stomping. But now, it was as if the entire tree would be without leaves any time soon.

Immanuel’s heart stomped with the same intensity as the stomps of whatever was coming to pick them up, except that Immanuel’s heart pounded faster. Way faster. Immanuel stood back up again in anticipation and fear, eyes fixed upon the thick of the enormous trees shaking intensely with its passing.

And then, part by part it revealed itself. It had metal arms shaped like that of a human’s. Its torso was metal all throughout. Same with its legs. Its head—perhaps a helm? It was ornate. Kingly even.

Whoever this is, I would hate to be on their bad side, Immanuel remarked.

The entity finally stopped in front of them and crouched. Their one hand lay on their side, and its chest piece opened downwards, revealing a casket-like chamber. Seated within was a person—the rider of whatever it was.

The rider was a man Immanuel believed was younger than him. He had long, flowing hair and was armored for combat like Vicar Starseeker.

He rose from his seat within the chamber, and from the thing’s chestpiece, a ladder-like set of steps appeared, going down towards the arm to which the hand that was on the ground was connected to.

"Hey, Victor!" greeter Vicar Starseeker, a hand waving high in the air. She remained seated on the ground.

"The man standing here is Immanuel Maier. Immanuel, meet Victor Peterson, a cleric with the rank of Dean."

Immanuel finally snapped out of his astonishment, shutting his mouth when he caught himself with jaws dropped. Then, wanting to divert their attention to his politeness, Immanuel bowed in the most respectful way he could, a move that elicited a chuckle out of the rider.

"That’s almost always the first reaction of anyone who sees my mount. No big deal."

"What about the rest whose jaws did not fall at the sight of your mount?"

"A few drunks challenged it to a fight."

The short exchange elicited laughter from the three.

"So..." Dean Peterson broke the laughter-filled pause. "Shall we go?"

"Yes," replied Vicar Starseeker.

Turning to Vicar Starseeker, Immanuel raised a question. "Wait, where do we sit?"

The answer came a moment later. The mount’s shoulders flipped open. Each revealed a leather seat for one.