The Bear-Like Clergyman

Tang Wenxu had largely recovered. His immediate desire, once his strength returned, was to personally thank Father Kant. It was this man who had offered them shelter in their direst hour.

“Is Father Kant here?”

The children shook their heads, indicating they didn’t know.

“Perhaps he went fishing,” one child offered.

“Yes, if Father isn’t in the church, he’s always out fishing.”

Fishing, then. What a fitting hobby for an elderly man.

“What kind of person is Father?” Tang Wenxu inquired.

“Father is a good man.” From the children’s simple reply, it was evident Father Kant held a special place in their hearts.

‘He must be just an ordinary old man,’ Tang Wenxu mused. In his mind’s eye, a benevolent Father Christmas appeared, joyful and kind, bringing laughter wherever he went. Perhaps Father Kant was just such a figure.

“Father Kant is back!” the children cried.

Tang Wenxu stepped out of the room, only to freeze at the sight of him.

‘Strange,’ he thought. ‘He’s not quite what I imagined.’

Before him stood a burly old man—no, a bear of a human—with a greatsword strapped to his back. His eyes held not a shred of priestly piety, but rather a chilling aura of bloodlust. In modern terms, he was an intimidating, “street-smart” elder. Was this truly a man of God, or had a yakuza boss simply stumbled into the wrong church?

The children, however, swarmed around the bear-like elder, confirming that he was, without a doubt, Father Kant.

Before meeting him, Tang Wenxu had envisioned a benevolent old man, much like Santa Claus. The reality, however, was starkly different. Or perhaps not entirely so; at least two things Father Kant shared with Santa were their age and their redness. Yet, while Santa’s redness came from his suit, Father Kant’s was due to the blood that stained his entire body. It was undeniably blood; the coppery scent was far too potent to deny, as if he had just torn apart a wild animal, splattering himself in the process.

“Father, what happened to you? You’re covered in blood again!” the children asked.

‘Again?’ Tang Wenxu wondered. Was Father Kant always like this? Hadn’t he gone fishing? A sense of bewilderment washed over him.

“Oh, I just accidentally got some on me while slicing sashimi,” Father Kant mumbled, scratching his head before producing several cuts of fish from behind his back.

‘Who would believe that?’ Tang Wenxu scoffed inwardly. Not even a child would fall for such a blatant lie. Could such a small fish possibly bleed so much? ‘You must have been out killing someone, performing some sort of human sacrifice. This is a cult, isn’t it?’

“Father is so amazing!” To his surprise, the children actually believed him.

‘Children are so easily fooled,’ Tang Wenxu couldn’t help but inwardly grumble.

Though the children surrounded Father Kant in layers, the old man wore a look of distinct impatience. He waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away flies.

“Children, I have business to attend to,” Father Kant stated, his underlying message clear: he needed them to leave. Only then did the children reluctantly disperse.

Tang Wenxu sensed that this old man didn’t seem to particularly care for children.

It took him a long moment to realize he had forgotten to thank him. Father Kant’s overwhelming appearance had truly left him stunned.

In the evening, Mia finished cooking, and the children and Father gathered around the dinner table. Though the meal was not extravagant, for the master and servant who had just endured wilderness survival, it was a profound blessing.

Before eating, Mia and the children clasped their hands together.

“Thank the Goddess.”

Tang Wenxu and Kuroki Nao, mimicking them, also offered thanks to the unknown goddess of this otherworld.

As everyone closed their eyes in gratitude, a chewing sound broke the silence. Father Kant, the church’s sole clergyman, had already begun to devour his meal.

Mia watched Father Kant, offering an awkward smile, as if completely accustomed to his behavior.

The air at the dinner table was heavy. Father Kant exuded an intimidating aura, a silent power that commanded respect, much like a commoner dining with a mob boss. Even during the meal, his chilling presence seemed to grip the throats of ordinary people.

If a presence could speak, the aura behind Father Kant at that moment would have screamed: ‘Disobey, and I’ll crush your head.’

No one spoke; everyone quietly ate their food. Tang Wenxu hesitated for a moment, then decided to thank the old man.

“Father Kant, thank you.”

Father Kant remained silent, continuing to eat with his head bowed.

“Master, your voice is too quiet. He didn’t hear you,” Kuroki Nao whispered softly.

Tang Wenxu shook his head. He was certain Father Kant had heard him, but had deliberately ignored him.

Just as Tang Wenxu had spoken, his gaze had met Father Kant’s for a fleeting moment. Yet… Father’s eyes had held a look as if he were staring at trash. This left Tang Wenxu feeling somewhat put out and embarrassed.

‘I must have done something inappropriate to displease the old man,’ he thought. ‘Perhaps I should choose a more suitable time, dressed in a formal suit, to offer my solemn thanks.’

After dinner, the sound of a piano drifted from the church hall. Mia played a piece called “Starry Sky” for the children. Starlight streamed into the hall, illuminating her figure at the piano like a goddess. The usually boisterous children were now quietly listening, the music cleansing their hearts.

Father Kant leaned against the church door, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips, before he quietly slipped away from the hall.

Seeing Father Kant depart, Tang Wenxu quickly followed him out.

Under the moonlight, Father Kant, bare-chested, ceaselessly swung his greatsword in the courtyard.

“Is something the matter?” Noticing Tang Wenxu, Father Kant asked.

“Father Kant, thank you for providing us with shelter.”

“Mm.”

“And thank you for saving us from the monsters.” Although Kuroki Nao hadn’t explicitly told Tang Wenxu how they were saved from the beasts, seeing this eight-pack-ab-wielding, greatsword-swinging old man, what other explanation could there be?

“If you’ve only come to offer thanks, then go back inside. I am a clergyman; I don’t much care for empty pleasantries.” Father Kant did not deny that he had saved them.

“I want to become stronger. Will you teach me to fight?”

“Isn’t it rather nice to be protected, child?”

“I don’t want to be a child who needs protection. I want to become strong so I can protect Nao.”

“Nao, you mean the maid, I see… In any case, take off your shirt first.”

Upon hearing Father Kant’s request, Tang Wenxu immediately stripped off his shirt, afraid of displeasing Father Kant and losing the chance to learn how to fight. Father Kant carefully scrutinized his body, then shook his head.

“No, this body of yours is completely unsuitable. Give up early; you won’t be a true man. Insisting on learning combat will only lead to an untimely demise. Perhaps you could try learning commerce instead.”

With that, Father Kant turned his back and resumed his sword practice.

Facing the old man’s dismissal, Tang Wenxu felt a pang of unwillingness. “Then, may I simply watch you practice?”

“Do as you please.”

Heeding Father Kant’s reply, Tang Wenxu picked up one of the children’s wooden swords and began to mimic the old man’s movements as he wielded the greatsword.