Progress. (3)
—That's Deculein. You're watching too, right?
In a mountain range not far from Barahala, Eli scratched her head as she watched Elesol's sign language from her high vantage point.
"......Yeees. I'm watching. No bad stuff happening today—"
Smack! Elesol slapped Eli's arm. Eli put on a pitiful expression.
"Ow, that hurts......"
—Does having a bad day mean you can just blow people up and kill them?
"......Well, no."
Eli peered down at the ground again.
Barahala. A city that was quite a headache even from Altiegue's perspective.
They were all heretics worshiping the Altar, so in truth, Eli and Elesol had been dispatched to eliminate them directly.
—Deculein showing that kind of brutality isn't a one- or two-time thing.
Elesol had built a prison exclusively for Altiegue in the desert underground. She planned to detain the Altar worshipers there separately.
"But Rohalak doesn't have a gas chamber. The professor keeps his promises, doesn't he?"
—......Fine. You're no different from the brainwashed kin in the Altar. Head back for now. We've already secured the leader.
That was Elesol's sign, and Eli looked toward Barahala's chieftain, tied unconscious to a tree.
Elesol and Eli planned to backtrack the Altar using the information in that one's head. Altiegue's path to survival was either the Mutual Assured Destruction that Elesol strongly advocated or the collapse of the Altar.
"Elesol. Let's watch a bit longer."
—Why.
"......Just because."
Eli gazed at Deculein's back, striding nobly into the distance. She chuckled lowly and murmured.
"I want to watch a little longer...... Ow."
Smack! This time, Elesol smacked Eli's head.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Not once, but repeatedly, like pounding a gourd.
"Ack, ack, oh, and, and, there are still a few kids we need to take with us down there."
At Eli's words, Elesol narrowed her eyes and signed back.
—Take with us?
"......Yeees."
—What kids.
"Just what it sounds like. Innocent kids."
Eli looked down at the underground and let out a small sigh.
* * *
Barahala's resistance was feeble. No, the Imperial Guard had overwhelming force. The battle priests reported beforehand turned out to be half-baked, and the rest were just Altar-worshiping zealots.
The latter were no different from civilians.
"Professor. What shall we do with these?"
It was a knight with a single star on his chest. He was asking about the treatment of thousands of unarmed Altiegue prisoners.
All the other battle priests had been killed. But unlike before, their bodies weren't exploded entirely.
No, it didn't work.
Implanting Telekinesis into a human body meant controlling the blood flowing through another's veins.
Thus, it was difficult to burst the bodies of battle priests who had honed their mana to some degree and even learned magic resistance—and in the first place, I had no desire to do so. It was a method utterly unbecoming of dignity.
"......Deculein?"
Ihelm spoke. I swept my gaze over the prisoners.
Men and women. Youths and elders.
Their faces were all gripped by fear, but the composition of the group was distinctly abnormal.
"Peculiar."
"What is."
I lifted my eyes and surveyed Barahala's village. It seemed to have the bare essentials of habitation. Numerous small buildings like houses, temples, shops, schools, and such.
"This village has......"
At that moment, a voice interrupted me from somewhere, echoing out.
"No children!"
Everyone turned toward it.
A narrow-eyed man was approaching.
Noble priestly robes and slicked-back black hair. An utterly distinctive impression.
That named character's name came to mind instantly. Even without game knowledge, he was quite famous in this world.
"Men, women, young, old—all present, but no children!"
His name was Rozef. The youngest son of the 'Mest' family, the former emperor's maternal relatives.
The day the empress—my sister—was assassinated, he converted to the faith, making him a named no small threat even to Yukline. He had ties to Sophien through his family, and his own position was nearing cardinal.
"Isn't that right?"
His half-closed eyes curved into fox-like smiles.
"......"
Ihelm and I stared at him silently, and he approached with hands behind his back, inspecting the prisoners' faces.
"Are you afraid?"
The prisoners were silent, but a flicker of hope entered their eyes. Likely because of Rozef's priestly robes.
Perhaps a fellow faithful would be different, might save them from these sword-and-magic-wielding barbarians—vague, baseless expectations.
"Even trembling in fear like this, you've hidden the children. Your hearts touch me."
At those words, one prisoner nodded unwittingly. Rozef caught it and smiled brightly.
"Yes. There are children."
Murmuring that, Rozef looked at me.
"Ferret them out."
The prisoners' bodies shook violently.
His face always brimmed with smiles, his tone and voice the epitome of 'compassion,' but the depths were inscrutably sinister.
The most exclusionary faith on the continent.
That was Rozef the named.
"By the way. Do you intend to take all these prisoners? Better to kill them swiftly and bury them underground."
Underground. At that word, one prisoner collapsed in convulsions.
"Please, please, at least the children......! The children are innocent—"
"They are."
Rozef cut in gently.
"You made them so."
His voice was still warm.
"You have the sin of deluding children with false faith. False belief is more evil than no faith at all, and thus believing it is a grave sin."
Sentences flowing like baptism.
"You passed that sin to the children. Your children will pass it to the next generation."
The prisoners gazed up at him with dazed eyes.
"It is my duty to sever that chain of evil."
In that instant, a dagger flashed from Rozef's sleeve. The blade pierced the throat of the prisoner pleading for the children's forgiveness.
"Guhk!"
The prisoner let out a death rattle and slumped. Rozef turned back to the knights.
"What are you waiting for. Didn't they say sinners lie underground."
"Ah, yes."
The knights pressed their ears to the ground. With their keen senses, they would pinpoint the hideouts from the faintest echoes.
"Cease."
I halted them. Rozef and the knights blinked at me.
"Rise."
The knights stood one by one. Even Ihelm tilted his head with a strange expression.
"......Professor?"
Rozef asked. I shot him a glance and knelt on one knee.
I placed my hand on the ground. The advanced Iron Man clearly sensed the presences trembling underground.
I channeled mana into it.
"Hey, Deculein. What are you—"
─────────!
I shook the earth's crust. I tore between plates and fragments, collapsing the core.
Kwarunggrrr rumble-boom──!
The result was an earthquake akin to a bombardment.
With the roar of pillars and structures shattering, every facility in Barahala collapsed. Houses, shops, schools, fields, tents, wells, stables...... all swallowed into the earth, turning the place into a wasteland of dust and rubble in a mere minute.
"That should suffice."
I looked at Rozef.
"......"
He blinked blankly. Surveying the ruined Barahala, he nodded faintly.
"......Yes. Indeed, a fitting scene of heavenly punishment. The children must have departed peacefully, bearing their sins."
"You—!"
Then, one prisoner lunged in a frenzy. Of course, he didn't take a single step. An escort knight severed his head.
Thud—
The man's head rolled emptily. A face twisted in despair and rage.
Rozef gazed at it with a smile and clapped.
"As expected of the professor I've heard about. A model for the era. Eradicating heresy—"
I cut him off and turned my back on Barahala.
"Withdraw. There is no more to do in this filthy land."
* * *
On the way back from Barahala, late into the night, we paused in the metropolis of Makan.
"This place never changes no matter how many times I come. Right? We came here on a school trip back in academy days."
I ignored Ihelm's chatter.
He clicked his tongue and changed the subject.
"Hey, but that guy's kinda creepy, isn't he? What kind of priest uses a dagger."
Rozef. Trailing innocently as if one of the group, greeting every resident we passed with bright cheer.
"We shall cross paths often henceforth."
As the main quest progresses into its latter stages, entangling with Altiegue and the Altar.
In some quests, he massacres 10,000 Altiegue at once.
"Yeah? Well, he's still Her Majesty's kin. Even if he cut ties with the family."
As we walked, a portly man caught my eye in the distance. The nameless fatty approached our front, pointed at me, and said he had words to share.
Soon, an Imperial Guard relayed it to me.
"Professor. That man says he has something to say. Shall I send him away—"
"No. Bring him. You lot go ahead."
"Yes, sir."
The group entered the hotel first, leaving me alone to face the fatty.
Sweating profusely with a grin. I scanned him from head to toe.
"What is it."
"......I have a message."
"Speak."
"Yes. There is a mansion here hiding a group of Altiegue."
Of course. A snitch, it seemed.
* * *
"Here it is."
In the heart of the city, a modest mansion. A shop on the first floor, residence only on the second.
The fatty who introduced himself as 'Jack' had guided us.
"Let us enter first."
"Y-yes, of course, haha."
I examined the exterior before walking slowly. I didn't enter the building proper, opting for a narrow passage at the rear.
"......"
Beyond the passage lay a cramped yard. A tattered doll, a ball rolling lazily, an old dog chasing the ball.
Huff huff huff—
The dog veered from the ball toward me mid-chase. It seemed friendly with people, but breathing labored, perhaps from illness.
Then.
"Relly~ You have to fetch the ball...... Gasp."
A small, delicate voice.
I turned, and the child there froze upon seeing me.
"......"
The child was ordinary. She might grow beautiful in the distant future, but now she was just cutely average for her age.
However, the child paled at the sight of me.
Perhaps due to the medals plastered on my uniform or my infamously handsome face.
"Is that your dog."
I spoke first. The child stammered, sweating coldly.
"Y...... yes. Th...... the landlord's......"
"You live here."
"Um......"
"The dog's name is Relly."
"......Yes."
"It suits. Fatten up more here, and it'll suit even better."
I looked at the child. Tiny, not even reaching my chest. She clutched a single book.
"You like books."
"......Pardon? Ah...... yes......"
"You know me."
"......Yes."
I nodded.
It was no pleasant thing to be an object of terror even to such a child.
"How many live inside."
"......Pardon?"
"How many."
I looked at her face again. The child opened her mouth hesitantly.
"......Five, six......"
"Speak truthfully."
Tears welled in her eyes. Her legs trembled, her bangs soaked with sweat.
It was midsummer for her alone.
"T...... eighteen......"
"Eighteen in this small mansion."
"......"
This child was likely Altiegue. Why she came out, I didn't know.
Perhaps worried for the near-death old dog, or thought this place safe from searches.
However, the child hadn't been brainwashed by the Altar. No traces of their distinctive magical doctrines or spells.
......Had there been even a tiny trace of the Altar, would I have killed this child.
"Eighteen."
I looked at the mansion again. Far too cramped for eighteen.
"Ah, n-no. Not eighteen...... nine."
I smirked at the belated correction. The child shuddered.
"You like books."
"......Y-yes. This is...... a diary."
"Diary."
I watched her from afar. Approaching would only frighten her more.
With Telekinesis, I returned the ball and placed the book back in her arms.
"Ah."
"You seem to have talent for magic."
"......Pardon?"
No need for special talents; even the naked eye could see it. The simplest application, and this child's magical aptitude shone clearly.
Moreover, she kept a 'diary.'
"Go inside. Blood tests will come soon, so best not to go out for a while. Better to burrow underground."
"......Pardon?"
I turned without another word. I felt her gaze but didn't look back.
"Ah, Professor. Did you confirm?"
Jack waddled into the alley from outside.
I nodded.
"......Then you know. Those are definitely Altiegue—"
"How did you know."
I cut him off.
"Pardon?"
"Judging Altiegue by appearance alone is a gamble. Did someone tip you?"
"......Ah, no. No. They just seem suspicious. Why hide—"
"How did you know they were hiding."
Betan's blood magic invention hadn't leaked publicly yet.
"That was from my......"
I peered into his face, expression, pupil and iris movements.
"......own investigation. But they must be Altiegue. They look the part, don't they?"
He was lying.
"Is that so."
"Yes! Exactly!"
I pointed to the holster at his waist.
"A revolver."
"Pardon? Ah, yes. I do some vigilante work."
With Telekinesis, I drew the revolver. Opening the cylinder, it was loaded with live rounds.
Click—
I cocked the hammer and asked.
"What do you seek by reporting Altiegue."
"What I want is...... haha. Ah, it's fine. Actually, I'm running for city mayor this time......"
I scanned the surroundings.
Thanks to him entering the alley, no eyes on us.
"Jack, was it."
"Yes."
"One question."
I cast Silence magic over the area. To ensure no sound escaped.
"Do you worship the Altar. Did the Altar speak to you."
I asked. For an instant, Jack's eyes quivered wildly.
"Haha...... As if."
He denied with a laugh, but his body spoke truth.
No need to hesitate.
I pulled the trigger.
——.
The bullet sped silently, piercing his forehead. The bloated body slumped against the wall, and I set the revolver beside it.
"Filthy vermin."
With the trash properly disposed, I had only to leave.
......
"......"
Elesol gaped blankly. Sorting through the bewildering scene she'd just witnessed.
Deculein.
He'd reached a mansion housing several Altiegue children on a tip from some tubby snitch. There, he met a child.
Dark blue hair, dusky skin. Moderately bearing Altiegue traits.
She didn't scream Altiegue at first glance, but if Betan spotted her, she'd fail any Altiegue test.
Did Deculein deem her not Altiegue.
Or did he know and let her go for a one-sweep kill later.
He'd only chatted idly with the child...... even gifted her a book before leaving, then killed the snitch Jack instead.
"......"
Elesol unwittingly moved her fingers. Instinctively signing.
It was that baffling a situation.
Then.
"What're you doing?"
Eli, appearing suddenly, placed a hand on her shoulder. Elesol flinched like a cat.
She glared at Eli and signed.
—Want to die? Where were you.
"Went to fetch the kids."
—Kids.
Elesol furrowed her brow, and Eli beamed.
"Yes. The kids."
—Where.
"Where else. Barahala."
—Barahala.
"Yes."
Then the furrow on Elesol's brow spread across her whole face.
—Deculein killed them all.
"Nuh-uh. Not all killed."
Eli shook her head softly.
"They got pretty dirty with dirt, but the kids are safe."
—......
Hard to believe again.
Anyone seeing Deculein's massive earthquake—even a passing dog—would think the underground kids dead.
—How.
"The professor always keeps his word."
—......
"The professor told me the kids bear no sin. So no need to kill them. They're innocent."
Then Elesol turned her head.
That alley. Deculein was gone, but Jack's corpse lay sprawled.
Elesol pointed there.
—Eli. Dispose of that body.
"Body?"
—Yes.
"Where...... Ah. Yes."
Eli strode over with Step, about to move the corpse.
Suddenly.
She spotted a slip of paper at Jack's feet.
"......"
[Eli. I still remember your name.]
Gazing at those words, Eli blinked. Strangely, her chest burned hot, her eyes growing moist.
Like the time she botched cutting onions.
The reason, Eli still didn't know.
For her, 'emotions' were faint.