Chapter 197
Chapter: 197
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 197
>Chapter Title: Sigismund Territory (6)
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>The path swept by the colossal Rank-4 Demonkin was a scene of utter devastation.
The roots of the demonic tree had gouged deep scars into the earth, layer upon layer, and blackened, corroded corpses of humans and horses lay scattered everywhere. Even after widespread purification efforts, the bodies had shriveled to the point where identification was impossible.
The Wolf Knight Order roughly gathered them and buried them in the ground, then set to work salvaging usable items from the shattered wreckage.
Fortunately, unlike the creatures whose lives had been completely drained, most of the caravan's goods remained intact aside from physical damage.
They even recovered some packhorses that had fled to the outskirts and a couple of undamaged wagons, accelerating their efforts.
Thanks to this, two days after Seongjin's party had departed, they finished all cleanup and set off toward Sigismund Territory.
“Sir Valerie.”
Sir Ilma, who had been moving between the knights and supply wagons to organize the formation, slowed his horse once things were somewhat sorted and approached the inquisitor.
“I'll instruct the knights to take turns keeping watch. Why don't you rest a bit as well?”
Valerie was currently focused on surveilling one particular wagon.
It held a dozen or so prisoners crammed together in bonds—likely remnants of the Order of Repentance, confirmed heretics.
“The moment we arrive at Sigismund Territory, the knights will hand them over to the church themselves.”
The inquisitor shook his head.
“I appreciate it, Sir Ilma. But these ones are being escorted to the Heresy Tribunal in the imperial capital. It would be troublesome if the local church jumped the gun with summary judgment.”
“......”
“I'll personally hand them over to the guard and retrieve them intact on the way back.”
A firm declaration that he would not cede disposal rights to the border lord.
Sir Ilma didn't press further, surmising some complicated circumstances.
Though she hadn't received a separate explanation from Orden, she too had sensed the subtle discord flowing between the family head and the eldest son lately.
“By the way, it's remarkable they survived right in the heart of that demonic energy. The campsite area didn't even leave a single blade of grass unrotted.”
“Isn't their unscathed state amid the Demonkin rampage powerful evidence that they're devil worshippers?”
“Indeed. But is this level of restraint sufficient? What if they attempt suicide...”
They were nearly on the brink of death, but upon realizing they were headed to the Heresy Tribunal, who knew what desperate acts they might commit.
The red-haired inquisitor flashed a sly smile.
“The Order of Repentance doesn't fear the Heresy Tribunal's tortures. They'll gladly endure them. It's their one redeeming quality.”
As Valerie explained, they believed pain alone was the path to repentance and ultimate embrace by the Lord God.
Looking at the prisoners whose bodies were covered in scars and wounds, Sir Ilma's face paled slightly.
“A doctrine no sane person could follow.”
“Aren't they the ones worshipping devils who love human sin and misery as gods? So it's no surprise they commit such madness.”
It was right then.
“...Filthy apostates! Heretics daring to slander whom?!”
Flash.
One of the prisoners glared wide-eyed and bellowed. It was Belinda, the parish priest.
Even shriveled and withered from the demonic tree draining her life force, her eyes burned fiercely toward Valerie.
“Feel shame, you wicked scum! You heretics! You are sinners who betrayed the Lord God, who sacrificed everything for this world!”
At the sudden uproar, the entire group unwittingly perked up their ears toward Belinda's voice.
Heretics calling whom heretics?
“Behold the proof of your ugly sins! You've forgotten the Lord God and elevated worthless humans to new gods under the name of saints! You've scattered their carved images across the continent and praised and worshipped them in His stead. How could this not be heresy?!”
Even as a prisoner spewed curses of heavenly retribution right before them, Sir Valerie just grinned leisurely.
Finally, unable to stand it, Sir Ilma stepped forward and rebuked her sternly.
“Mind your words! Saints receive respect and honor befitting their virtue as saints, not exaltation as gods.”
Belinda glared at her with gleaming eyes and gnashed her teeth.
“Can you swear to it? That you've never once prayed to those so-called saints, not even substituting their easy names for the Lord God out of convenience, but truly believing deep in your heart?”
“Never...”
“Don't lie! Know your sins, apostate!”
It was utterly unreasonable; no words got through.
Devil worshippers calling whom devils?
Sir Ilma wished this blasphemous wretch would shut up soon, but oddly, Sir Valerie just listened quietly before slyly asking,
“Then, did you summon the demonic tree to this land to punish us apostates?”
Belinda shot him a scornful look, then snorted derisively.
“I see through your shallow tricks. But no harm in humoring you! Yes!”
She admitted the Order of Repentance had summoned the demonic tree.
“Then why target the Millo Caravan's campsite of all places? Your 'brother' the Millo merchant lord got caught up in it unluckily because of that, didn't he?”
“What?”
“The Millo caravan master. Isn't he your brother in faith, serving the same god?”
“What?! Graaah!”
At Valerie's words, Belinda's eyes sparked with rage as she shrieked almost convulsively.
“How dare you! How dare you equate that filthy apostate—who deserves to be torn apart—with our brothers!”
“Isn't he?”
“Absurd! That wretch's role in our plans was minimal from the start! He failed even that and was executed by our hands! Got it?!”
Then curses unfit for ears poured from her mouth toward the Millo caravan master for a good while.
“Rot in hell, you scum! That dirty apostate could never fathom our noble [preparations]! The grand undertaking our brothers in all orders have devoutly prepared over years!”
“...Preparations?”
Sir Ilma, listening, unwittingly echoed, and Belinda straightened proudly toward her and shouted,
“Yes. Listen well! To reclaim the Lord God's name, our brothers...!”
Right then.
“Whoops!”
Thwack!
A sudden punch from the inquisitor sent the parish priest flipping backward, eyes rolling back.
Her weakened body lost consciousness from a mere light blow to the face. As all eyes from Sir Ilma and the Wolf Knights turned to him, Valerie shrugged sheepishly.
“These aren't ones to crack under ordinary torture, so I wanted to hear what nonsense they'd spout. But it's all useless drivel.”
Louder than expected. Haha.
Amid the sudden silence, only the inquisitor's hollow laughter echoed emptily in the air.
* * *
After a skiing fiasco in the snowy mountains.
Seongjin, whose feet had gone numb on his own, meekly returned to the carriage with the two men.
“This was truly not on purpose, Sir Masin. It was just bad luck because I'm not that skilled at 'shunishushe'.”
Seongjin glanced at Masin's expression while earnestly defending himself. Surprisingly, Masin didn't scold him much.
He just straightened Seongjin's disheveled winter clothes from rolling in the snow and brushed the snow from his hair.
That said, he didn't look fine; honestly, his face looked a decade older, utterly haggard.
-I no longer expect much from Your Highness. Just... don't die suddenly like before.
Come to think of it, hadn't he once said something like that to Seongjin?
He seemed to have cleanly resolved to let go of what he could, but that only made Seongjin more uneasy.
Rather, it was Orden who sternly admonished Seongjin.
“Your Highness! The demonic realm's influence is extremely strong around here. No one knows when an accident might occur. Please consider the position of Lord Sigismund, who invited you here!”
“Hmm...”
Seongjin reflected deeply.
Tch, even getting lectured by a punk like Orden. He was pissed enough to hold back from now on.
“Oh, right! I saw a really huge wolf in the woods.”
Masin's face paled beside him, but that was all in the past now.
Seongjin prioritized his curiosity.
“Actually, not sure if it was a wolf. Might've been a wolfdog.”
Seongjin spread his arms wide to gauge Max's size for Orden.
“About this big? Are there many wolves that size around here?”
Orden's expression turned strange.
“A wolf... you say?”
“That size? No way. Your Highness must have misseen.”
Hermann, who had been listening to their conversation, interjected.
“Unless it was a lycanthrope from the demonic realm, that's an impossible size.”
“What about a wolfdog?”
“Wolfdogs aren't much different. They're commonly used as hunting dogs in Sigismund Territory, but I've never seen one that big in all my years.”
Hey, Max. You bastard, no lies, right?
What the hell is going on?
“Then, aside from dogs raised in the territory, are there no wild ones that have made dens?”
When Seongjin asked with a crestfallen face, Hermann shook his head firmly.
“Occasionally, wild-bred wolfdogs appear from natural mating, but it's extremely rare. Even if one existed, it'd fully feral and join a wolf pack by now, migrating to northern Ortona with the others.”
Hm. I see.
Seongjin pondered briefly before posing the most crucial final question.
“Hey, Hermann. How do Sigismund wolfdogs differ from regular dogs?”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, just hypothetically, say...”
“......?”
“How smart are they? Like, talking to their owner or something...”
Hermann smiled warmly at Seongjin, like a grandfather indulging a fanciful grandchild.
“Talking to pet dogs. What a romantic notion. Your Highness truly loves animals.”
“......”
“Haha, everyone imagines that at least once as a child.”
...Ordinary wolfdog my ass.
Max, you con artist!
Before the next afternoon, Seongjin's party finally arrived at Sigismund Territory. It was a vast basin surrounded by low mountains.
At the gate, the guards had turned out in full force to greet them. Recognizing Orden at the lead, they let the party through without checks.
‘...The territory's bigger than I thought.’
As the carriage stopped just inside the gate, Seongjin poked his head out the window to survey.
He'd assumed a total rural backwater, but the basin was packed with houses—a fairly large domain.
Due to the climate, there were few fields within, giving it an almost urban vibe.
‘And cold...’
Late summer, yet the territory already felt wintry.
Frequently traveled ground was muddy from melted snow, but building roofs still bore tidy white caps.
“Sir Sebastian!”
Orden, dismounting first, hurried toward the man who seemed in charge.
“No incidents, Young Master.”
The man greeted Orden with a gentle smile.
Guard Captain Sebastian Bartel.
At a glance, he was a powerhouse rivaling Wolf Knight Order Captain Sir Ilma.
If she had fangs sharp enough to bite at any moment, the guard captain exuded a heavy, static aura like a massive mountain himself.
“Yes. Ah, the Wolf Knights stayed behind for cleanup.”
“We've heard. We'll escort you straight to the count's manor to rest from the long journey.”
With that, the guard captain led all his men toward Seongjin's carriage.
He placed a hand to his chest in impeccable salute.
“I greet the Third Prince of the Holy Empire. It is an infinite honor to serve Your Highness.”
“Uh, nice to meet you.”
The moment their eyes met, Seongjin felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
Have I seen this man before?
Why does he feel so familiar?