Chapter 291: A Hunch

As soon as they arrived in the village, the inhabitants came out to greet them.

However, upon realizing that the inquisitors could barely stay on their feet, wounded and exhausted, several hurried over to help them, without even waiting for anyone to ask.

They took them into the shade, offered them water and food, and a few immediately began tending to the most seriously injured with clean bandages.

Alice watched it all from one side, with the novice beside her.

"Thank goodness we found this place," the young inquisitor commented with clear relief. "I don’t know what would have become of us if we’d spent one more night in that forest."

"..."

"And there’s still good news," the novice continued. "I spoke with the village leader and found out that we’re near the Great Forest. So at least now we have an idea of where we are."

She made a face.

"Although that also means we have a very long road ahead of us back to the Inquisition’s central headquarters."

"I suppose you’re right," Alice replied dryly.

The novice nodded, and her gaze settled once more on the villagers, who continued tending to the inquisitors.

"You know? I’m glad to see this," she said sincerely. "It seems that, little by little, people are starting to understand that the Inquisition’s work is necessary and that we’re not the villains some make us out to be."

She sighed, satisfied.

"It feels good, for a change, not to be looked at with fear or contempt."

Alice remained silent for a few moments.

There was something in the young woman’s observation that, although she couldn’t exactly explain what, had left her with a strange sense of unease.

But she barely had time to think about it when she felt a light tug on her sleeve.

Looking down, she found a little girl standing beside her who, judging by her appearance, couldn’t have been more than ten years old.

Her brown hair framed a childish face with large eyes, which now gazed up at her while one of her small hands timidly clutched the fabric of her shirt.

"Huh?"

"Miss, this wound," the little one said in a shy but determined voice. "Please let me help you."

Alice looked at her in bewilderment and then, following the girl’s gaze, noticed her own arm for the first time.

She had a deep cut running along her forearm, with the blood already dried around it.

It was clear she had gotten it sometime in the last few days, perhaps during one of the skirmishes with the demi-humans.

"Oh..." Alice murmured, looking at the wound. "I hadn’t even noticed."

The girl was already taking out some clean bandages, watching her expectantly, waiting for permission to act.

"Thank you," she said, letting the little one take her arm. "You’re very kind."

And, with a gesture that wasn’t like her, she reached out her other hand and gently ruffled the girl’s hair. The child smiled, delighted by the caress, as she began cleaning the wound with clumsy care.

It was then that Alice noticed a gaze on her.

She looked up and met the novice’s eyes. The young woman was watching her with a warm smile, clearly touched to see her showing such an uncharacteristic side.

Alice immediately cleared her throat, uncomfortable, and looked away.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?" she told the young woman, recovering her stern tone at once. "Go check on the condition of all the wounded."

"Eeeh?" The novice’s shoulders drooped. "I want to rest for a while too... I’ve been walking just as much as the others, you know?"

Alice simply gave her a cold look without saying a word.

"Hmmmm... You know what? I don’t feel like resting anymore," she said quickly, straightening up. "I’ll do it right away, Grand Inquisitor."

And then the young woman shot off toward her companions.

Alice shook her head, though a shadow of amusement briefly crossed her face.

"Miss," the little girl said then, still busy with the bandage. "Your hair is very pretty... and it smells like flowers too."

Alice let out a small laugh at the unexpected comment.

"You think so?" she said as she crouched down and lifted the girl with one arm. "The children at the orphanage always tell me exactly the same thing. Apparently it’s a pretty popular opinion among the little ones."

"What’s an orphanage?" the girl asked curiously.

"It’s a place that takes in children who have lost their parents," Alice explained gently. "There they look after them, give them a roof, food, and someone to watch over them until they’re grown."

She paused briefly.

"I help out at one when I have time... Though not as often as I’d like."

"I see..."

Something in the way she said it made Alice look at her a little more carefully.

"By the way," she asked, glancing around. "Where are your parents? If you take me to them, I can thank them for having such an attentive daughter."

"No!"

It was a reply that came too quickly, almost impulsively, and the obvious nervousness in her voice made Alice frown slightly.

The little girl squirmed a bit until she freed herself from Alice’s arm, hopping down to the ground.

"There’s no need, really," the little one added, avoiding her gaze. "I don’t want to bother you any more."

And without giving Alice time to respond, the girl turned and ran off, disappearing among the village houses.

Alice stayed looking at the spot where she had vanished, her brow slightly furrowed.

That reaction had been far too abrupt and strange.

"Grand Inquisitor."

But then the veteran’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"What is it?" Alice asked.

"The village chief has offered to provide us with supplies for the journey," he reported. "He’ll even give us horses so we can leave tomorrow morning."

"That’s... surprisingly generous," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"I know... in fact, they’re so kind it’s almost excessive," the veteran said thoughtfully. "It’s almost as if they want us to leave as soon as possible."

"...That’s just your imagination."

"It might be, but still... I’d like to investigate this place a bit more," he said, looking at her seriously. "Call it an old man’s instinct, but there’s something here that doesn’t sit right with me."

Alice frowned slightly as she listened.

She had no proof or logical explanation, only that unpleasant intuition that appeared when too many small things stopped seeming like coincidence.

"All right, you can investigate if that puts your mind at ease," she conceded reluctantly. "But do it discreetly... I don’t want you offending the people who are helping us based on a simple hunch. Understood?"

"Understood, Grand Inquisitor," the veteran replied with a bow. "I’ll be discreet."

And with that, he withdrew.

Alice was left alone, her gaze lost in the bustle of the village, in the people coming and going as they attended to her inquisitors with helpful smiles.

’It’s probably nothing...’ she told herself, trying to shake off the unease. ’Surely it’s just that we’re so used to fear and rejection that simple kindness feels suspicious.’

It was a reasonable explanation.

And yet, no matter how many times she repeated it to herself, the feeling wouldn’t go away.