Chapter 173
Chapter: 173
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 173
>Chapter Title: Logistics Relay Station (4)
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Once the dam broke, a torrent of denunciations came pouring out one after another.
“Demon worshiper!”
“You filthy swindler!”
“He definitely said he’d sell his soul to the devil again! I heard it clear as day!”
“N-No, I never said that! I only said that out of anger because you all were slandering my art as something impure obtained from demons...”
The young man waved his hands in a belated attempt to salvage the situation, but even the fellow bard who had defended him until moments ago stepped back, staring at him in horror.
“Shut your mouth, demon worshiper!”
“You planning to corrupt someone else with your heretical songs?”
“Damn demon worshipers! We should kill scum like that right now—they’re rotting the world from the inside!”
Up until then, Seongjin had just been watching blankly, but when the crowd’s reaction turned far more extreme than expected, he panicked.
Hold on—the guy was drunk and got heated. People say stupid things sometimes. Why are they all so furious?
But the situation was spiraling out of control.
Drunken mercenaries gathered around the young man. Some rolled up their sleeves, exuding menace, looking ready to beat him to death on the spot.
Realizing something was seriously wrong, Seongjin rose from his seat. Masain, who had been guarding the campfire beside him, immediately stuck close and said,
“It’s just a squabble among drunkards, Your Highness. If things get out of hand, the knights and I will intervene, so don’t worry. They wouldn’t actually harm someone over something so trivial, would they?”
Just then, Priest Gustav emerged upon hearing the commotion and shook his head slowly.
“It’s entirely possible, Sir Knight.”
“Isn’t it just drunken nonsense?”
“It must be unfamiliar to you all. People in the capital don’t know much about it, surrounded as they are by His Majesty’s grace, free from any worry about demonkin.”
“So things are different outside the capital?”
“Of course. Despite the Church and the Inquisition’s tireless efforts, demon worshipers still run rampant across the continent. They sacrifice people to summon demons, and the summoned demons kill more people in turn. Especially among mercenaries, there isn’t one who hasn’t lost family or comrades to demons or demon worshipers.”
“...”
“To them, demon worshipers are a very real threat. How could they just stand by?”
Gustav’s eyes were utterly cold as he spoke. Seongjin had thought him a good-natured man, but a priest was a priest after all—merciless when it came to demons.
Soon, a scream of “Aaargh!” rang out, and the mercenaries’ mob lynching began.
“Does His Highness, Prince of the Holy Empire, really need to defend someone who committed blasphemy? They’ll probably stop at an appropriate point. The mercenaries will vent their anxiety, and that foolish young man will learn a valuable lesson.”
As Seongjin stepped toward them, Gustav followed, trying to dissuade him while quickly adding more. Seongjin let out a small sigh.
“Priest Gustav. In your view, is that young man a demon worshiper?”
“I sense no demonic energy from him, at least. He just seems like a frivolous youth obsessed with art.”
“Then shouldn’t we obviously protect him? In terms of real threats, what’s the difference between that young man and the ones labeling him a demon worshiper?”
“But, Your Highness...”
“If, God forbid, he can’t bear the injustice and actually devotes himself to a demon, who would be the one offering him up to it?”
Gustav’s eyes widened at that. He looked deeply shocked, his pupils trembling faintly as he stared at Seongjin.
‘...What did I say to make him react like that?’
Seongjin glanced curiously at Gustav’s paling face for a moment before turning away.
With Sir Masain and the escort knights in tow, Seongjin headed toward the gathered mercenaries.
The lynching site was surrounded layer upon layer by furious mercenaries, but as Seongjin’s group approached, the mercenaries startled and parted the crowd on their own.
They moved before Masain could even shout, which meant they’d been subtly keeping watch on the prince’s group despite pretending otherwise.
Why wouldn’t they? Seongjin’s party had stood out from the start.
At the lead flew the Wolf Knight Order’s banner with its wolf emblem, followed by a carriage emblazoned with the imperial crest.
The caravan unintentionally traveling alongside the prince’s group had chosen to keep their distance and avoid eye contact as much as possible.
Thud! Thwack!
Even the mercenaries gritting their teeth and kicking stopped dead as the prince drew near, hastily averting their eyes and stepping back.
“Ugh...!”
The young man, who had been screaming with his face covered by his arms, fell silent as the blows suddenly ceased. He peeked out cautiously from behind his arms.
In that short time, he’d been beaten all over; his eyelids were already swelling up.
“Sir Valerie.”
At Seongjin’s call, the red-haired inquisitor rushed over and began pouring holy power into the battered bard.
There was no dramatic visible change, but the pain seemed to ease—the young man’s grimaced expression gradually relaxed.
Only then did the mercenaries realize the prince had come to help the young man. They gathered before Seongjin’s group and began shouting one by one.
“...That man is a demon worshiper, Your Highness!”
“Please execute him! Filthy demon worshipers killed my family!”
“Demon worshipers must pay for their crimes!”
Eyes blazing with blind rage, unconcerned with right or wrong.
Seongjin suddenly recalled what Domenico Scarzapino had said not long ago.
-I’ve lived abroad for work so long that scenes like this in Delcros sometimes feel utterly alien.
He’d thought those weeping in devotion to the Holy Emperor were like cult fanatics.
But people outside the capital weren’t so different, were they? Maybe humans were all a little mad somewhere deep down?
Seongjin slowly scanned the crowd before commanding them.
“As you say, this man has committed blasphemy against the Lord God and insulted the imperial family. I will hand him over to the proper authorities for due process, so stand down and return to your places!”
Yet despite the prince’s direct order, the highly agitated mercenaries didn’t back off easily.
“Collusion with demons is a capital crime eligible for summary execution!”
“Your Highness! Execute him here and now! Show the severity of holy law!”
“Please make an example of this filthy demon worshiper!”
The strange fervor sweeping the crowd didn’t dissipate in an instant.
In the end, Seongjin resorted to his final measure and turned to Masain.
“Sir Masain.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Who has the authority to judge and punish heretics?”
Masain, grasping what Seongjin intended, bowed even more deferentially.
“Only inquisitors officially authorized by the Orthodox Church.”
“Then these insolent fools, not being inquisitors, have just arbitrarily exercised their prosecutorial and investigative powers?”
“Yes, exactly.”
The bewildered mercenaries paled as Seongjin’s next words made them realize what was happening.
“Then they have just presumed to act as inquisitors without qualification.”
“...!”
“They’ve mocked holy law and undermined the Church’s authority—acts befitting demon worshipers, no? This is undoubtedly a grave crime that must be strictly punished under holy law. Therefore...”
Gasp!
The ashen-faced mercenaries averted their eyes from Seongjin and quickly retreated.
After glaring at them once, Seongjin approached the young man collapsed on the ground.
“Hey, can you move?”
“S-Sniff! Hic! Thank you! Thank you...!”
As the tense air eased, the young man clutched his snapped lyre and began sobbing.
Of course, though they had backed off in fear, the mercenaries still shot chilling, murderous glances at the young man.
If left like this, he might get stabbed when no one was looking.
“Then get up and follow me.”
“Hic... P-Pardon?”
Looking down sternly at the tear-streaked young man, Seongjin said,
“You were drunk, but what you did was blasphemy against the Lord God and the imperial family. You look like you need proper punishment and reeducation.”
With a subtle glance, Inquisitor Valerie quickly helped the young man to his feet.
“Come on now. Head to our tent for the time being! Kneel before the scriptures, pray, and sincerely repent your sins before the Lord God. Understood?”
With even the holy-powered knight chiming in, the mercenaries finally, grudgingly, looked away from the young man.
Thus, Seongjin’s group managed to rescue the young man, pushing through the menacing mercenaries.
“We’ll take turns watching him through the night, so don’t worry about this one, Your Highness.”
After entrusting the young man to the escort knights and the monster-hunting squad, Seongjin returned to his carriage late at night and closed his eyes. It had been an exhausting day, but various thoughts kept sleep at bay.
People swept up so instantly by fear of something vague and intangible. Suspicion and hostility without a clear target. And rage.
It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight. Perhaps this was closer to the world Seongjin knew.
‘Come to think of it, the palace folks were the weird ones...’
No matter what suspicious thing he did, they just watched calmly. That unconditional trust and support.
Seongjin buried his face in the soft bedding, thinking.
Honestly, he hadn’t expected to miss the capital’s air after just one day.
* * *
The next morning.
Seongjin, sitting by the campfire for breakfast, encountered the surprisingly recovered young man again.
Having regained some energy overnight, he introduced himself as Roran. His eyelids still bore dark bruises, but the swelling had gone down, giving his face a relatively tidy appearance.
With his long braided hair wrapped around his neck, Roran bowed deeply to Seongjin.
“I was too flustered yesterday to thank you properly. Thank you so much for saving my life, Your Highness.”
He shrank a bit under the occasional sharp glares from the mercenaries, but as expected of an entertainer, the young man had a silver tongue.
With Seongjin’s group gathered around the campfire as his audience, Roran naturally spun his tale.
“Lately, my main inspiration has been the life of the wandering knight Fernan Brack.”
Fernan Brack.
Succeeding the continent’s most infamous playboy—the Holy Emperor himself—he was the rising star of philanderers.
This young genius knight from Brittany was currently wandering the continent under the pretext of training, crafting an epic saga of love.
Roran drew heavy inspiration from his stories and had resolved to dedicate his life to tales of beautiful romance between men and women.
The first song he performed publicly was an impromptu poem called “The Genius Swordsman and the Count’s Daughter.”
His biggest hit was a love song titled “The Wandering Swordsman and the Girl with Kind Hazel Eyes.”
“So, what’s the most recent song you’ve written?”
“Yes. ‘The Genius Wandering Swordsman and the Moonlit Maiden.’”
Hm. Seongjin, who had briefly suspected the capital’s grace might truly influence the man’s artistry, instantly changed his mind.
Hadn’t this guy’s artistic soul died long ago? His whole repertoire was hopelessly clichéd.
“I had some hopes that Fernan Brack might appear in the capital during the birthday celebrations. That would have birthed the masterpiece of my life: the wandering swordsman meeting a beautiful rose in the palace...”
He looked up at a sudden sharp gaze—Orden was staring meaningfully at Seongjin.
The message in those eyes was clear.
‘Should I just kill him?’
‘Yeah. Wanna bury him somewhere?’
He hadn’t expected to agree with that guy.
Oblivious to his life hanging by a thread in that fleeting glance, Roran continued innocently.
“I came to the capital this time partly on invitation, but mostly to seek inspiration.”
“Inspiration?”
“Yes. Isn’t His Holiness the Holy Emperor a living protagonist of legends? Back in my hometown of Carthage, songs about him have been steadily popular for over a decade.”
Songs like “The Wandering Prince and the Blue-Eyed Maiden” or “The Genius Swordsman and the Haughty Blonde Duchess.”
Seongjin’s group exchanged subtle looks as they listened. They could guess exactly who the characters in each song were.
Thinking about it, the Holy Emperor’s life really was a story in itself!
“The ultimate image I pursue is this: a glass of liquor to soothe the lonely swordsman, and a beauty.”
With that, Roran picked up his lyre.
Ting!
A short, intense chord rang out, as if the strings might snap.
“Meeting gazes! That instant thrill! Love burning fiercely!”
Trilling.
A soft melody followed, like caressing a lover.
“And the lonely, fleeting wait of the girl left behind.”
Then Roran raised his voice.
Oh, my beloved, that man will never return.
Golden crocuses bloom and wither, while owls mourn through the night.
[...Lame.]
The Demon King muttered a curt critique.
As the song dragged on, the group’s faces soured in real time, just as he said.
It was terribly sorry for the youth aflame with artistic passion, but honestly, it was pure outdated sentimentality.
Noticing the negative stares, Roran stopped playing and slumped his shoulders.
“Ahem.”
Captain Bruno awkwardly stroked his mustache.
“If that’s your art, won’t the inspiration return soon enough?”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Come with us to Regina for now. Spending some time there should restore your muse perfectly. Regina’s the city that never sleeps—a true hub of all debauchery!”
Roran staggered as if struck.
“So my art is ultimately just indulgence...”
“No, that’s not what I...”
The captain tried to console him too late, but Roran clutched his lyre and quietly deflated.
The palpable aura of despair vividly embodied the utter crushing of the young man’s artistic soul—like avant-garde art in itself.
Seongjin shot Captain Bruno a quiet glare.
This guy—if you can’t fix it, at least don’t pour oil on the fire!