"Good morning, Kakarit."

When Kakarit went out after his daily morning prayers, he happened to see Helga sitting in the living room eating breakfast slowly.

It had been three days since the Marquis of Saya was killed by the Man in the Iron Mask.

And yesterday, under the protection and auspices of Cacarit, the funeral of the Marquis was quickly completed. His body was buried under a tree in the backyard of the Marquis's Mansion after the farewell ceremony.

This is Helga's insistence. She insisted that the funeral be held as soon as possible, even if it was attended only by locals and people from nearby. And burying the body of the Marquis of Saya in the family's cemetery was also insisted on by Helga.

Both of these things are well understood. The body of the Marquis of Saya was shattered, and his internal organs were almost reduced to mud. Injuries of this magnitude, even if the corpse were preserved by divine magic, could only last for a few days at most. If he is not buried soon, his body will soon decompose and swell, completely losing the proper demeanor of a nobleman. As a nobleman, the body of the Marquis of Saya could not be buried in a mass grave outside the city in any case. Even in order to accommodate his coffin, Kakarit and Helga threw a pit in the backyard.

Because of the sacredness of the matter, no one other than the funeral celebrant and blood relatives was allowed to do the work.

At that time, Kakarit already wanted to help Helga. But Helga was very obsessed with helping, even if it was just a small task. Considering Helga's feelings, Kakarit did not insist.

That's not a question of digging a small hole. Even if you choose to bury thinly, you have to dig at least a three-meter deep pit to ensure that the coffin will not rot due to the rain. Even with Kakarit's help, a young child like Helga wields a shovel to dig into the ground and bury his own father or something. It's just too cruel.

However, Helga did not complain in the slightest.

A whole day. Helga pursed her lips and waved her shovel. Silent. Tears rolled in her blue eyes, and her eyes were full of gloom.

But in the evening, Kakarit heard a very suppressed cry faintly ringing in Helga's room. He tried to go there three times, but in the end he didn't leave.

After all, going to a room of the opposite sex in the middle of the night is not something a pastor would do. Although Helga was still a child, she was also a future marquise. The responsibility on her shoulders is already the standard of an adult. That being the case, there doesn't seem wrong with treating her as an adult.

Under Kakarit's watchful gaze, Helga grew rapidly.

Only two days passed after the death of the marquis. The innocence in Helga's eyes almost burned out. The heavy haze dyed her pure blue pupils, which were more beautiful than the lake, into a deep dark blue.

And after the sun rises and the funeral begins, Helga's dignified black mourning dress appears, with a light black gauze skirt and a black belt at the waist, which makes this teenage girl look a little charming.

Kakarit remembers Helga's reaction at the time.

Her face was pale, and her eyes were filled with deep sadness and pain. But she didn't cry from beginning to end, but those who had nothing to do with Marquis Saya cried a lot.

They took Helga's hands and talked about the story of the Marquis of Sayya's life, about their remembrance of the Marquis and his sadness when he died, and as they spoke, they clung to Herlan's hands and wept silently. Helga had to come over and pat them on the back. Comfort them - and don't know who is going to comfort whom.

At the time, a sense of absurdity and dislocation left Kakarit at a loss for what to say.

But at the same time, there is another thing that Kakarit should not pay attention to.

- At the time of the funeral, Helga wore a silver-white cross on his neckline.

It was a gift from the Marquis on the night of the Marquis's death. It is attached to the magic of calming the mind and sleeping, which can soothe her painful and tense spirit and make it easier to fall asleep.

But. At the marquis's funeral, Helga also wore it. The meaning is different.

As it was nearly dusk when the funeral was over, Kakarit did not go to inquire about Helga that night.

Helga was already quite tired. Fatigue, pain, and sorrow almost completely overwhelmed her, and Kakarit thought that the poor child needed to be given at least a little time to rest.

And now, Kakarit thinks it's time for him to ask the question-

"Cross...... ? ”

Helga swallowed the grilled fish slowly, with that beautiful and charming pair. Confused dark blue eyes stared at Kakarit, who felt a strange sensation at that time.

"Yes, Miss Helga. Of course, I'm not saying it's wrong, but I think it's at least under-considered......"

"No, not really. It's just part of the deal. ”

Helga smiled slightly, raised his hands to support his chin, and squinted slightly at Kakarit who was gradually walking by, his long fluffy pink hair on his back.

A strand of curly pink hair fell from her sideburns, and Helga reached out to lift it. The hair-pulling action was so charming that even Kakarit couldn't help but pay attention.

However, he immediately realized that something was wrong.

"Don't be nervous, Mr. Reverend."

Helga smiled slightly, there was no sadness in his eyes, only a stagnant calm: "This is a deal between your god and me. ”

“…… Mentor? ”

"Exactly."

Helga nodded slightly, and did not shy away from admitting it.

After a moment's thought, she slowly spoke: "According to that vague contract, I will give my complete loyalty to His Highness Roland, to help him completely destroy the faith of the old world, and pave the way for the return of the Sage...... In exchange for a two-choice wish. ”

"Wish ...... choose one or the other"

A creepy ominous premonition sent a chill in Kakarit's back.

His incomparably familiar divine power poured out from the familiar and even more unfamiliar girl in front of him. Despite the fact that Helga had traded with her mentor and had sold her loyalty to Roland in the presence of her mentor, Kakarit was completely reassuring about her.

――Where does this look like a pastor? It's more like a believer in the devil!

…… Although Kakarit also knew that the devil himself was a subordinate of the mentor. There seems nothing wrong with saying that the concepts of "power in exchange for price" and "sacrificial sacrifice" belong to the authority of the guru.

"That's right, either."

Helga smiled sweetly at Kakarit: "Resurrect the father, or kill the murderer." Very fair trade. (To be continued.) )

PS: The real title of this chapter: The pink hair is really black......