Chapter 34
Chapter 34
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Hell's Library
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* * *
“Kill them all!”
From the moment they dared to fleece the eldest son of House Sachsen not once, but twice, their chances of survival had already vanished.
It was kill or be killed.
Fortunately, there was a fair distance between the two groups. Moreover, his side controlled the sloped hill, giving them a geographical advantage and numerical superiority. Most importantly, his men were forming an encirclement from all sides.
Baron Pücker raised his voice, desperately searching for any reason to be optimistic.
‘Just a few of them, only a few.’
Even if they were using aura blades, their only weapon was the single sword in each of their hands. They wore no armor, had no shields, and weren’t mounted on warhorses capable of a cavalry charge.
In contrast, his side had fully armed knights and archers arranged in battle formation!
This was a fight they could take. A fight they could win.
“We can win! This is a fight we can win!”
Baron Pücker shouted, displaying a power of positivity that was almost pitiful to behold.
“Archers, take aim!”
Atop the hill, the baron’s men drew their bowstrings in unison.
“Fools.”
Watching them, one of the knights guarding Dale muttered coldly.
Sir Veil of Baskerville.
A high-ranking knight who had assisted the Black Prince in that day’s battle, breaking Baron Pücker’s left flank from the front lines. A black hound who had sworn loyalty to the young heir of Sachsen.
“Give the order, Young Lord Dale.”
At Sir Veil’s request, Dale opened his mouth.
“We have already shown them mercy once.”
He paid no mind to the arrowheads aimed at them from all directions.
“Any further mercy would be meaningless.”
His voice was devoid of any emotion.
“Kill them all.”
“As you command.”
As Dale spoke, a volley of arrows was unleashed from all sides. The five ‘Aura Knights’ bowed their heads in acknowledgment of their lord’s command.
*Whoosh!*
The moment they bowed, a storm of sword winds erupted.
It was a shield of blades, blocking the volley of arrows raining down from all sides. Before the swirling tempest of sword winds, the downpour of arrows was utterly meaningless.
And as the first volley ended, the Night Raven Knights were already kicking off the ground.
They scattered in all directions, charging toward the swarm of bandits that had surrounded them.
The tales of a Sword Master single-handedly felling a thousand foes were closer to fanciful ‘knightly literature,’ even in this world. But it was no strange sight for a single skilled knight to slaughter dozens of soldiers.
A jet-black sword swung, and screams echoed.
“Aaargh, my arm! My arm!”
“P-please, please spare me—aaargh!”
Before the man could finish his sentence, a fountain of blood erupted from his severed neck. With every swing of the blade, arms and legs were severed, and guts spilled from the gashes torn in their abdomens.
“Y-Young Lord! Please, forgive me!”
Baron Pücker, who had long since lost his will to fight, collapsed to the ground and cried out.
“I-I’ll beg like this! I’ll give you everything I have! I’ll swear a lifetime of loyalty! Please, just please spare my life!”
He pleaded desperately.
“Please, grant me the mercy of the Sister Goddesses!”
The mercy of the Sister Goddesses. Dale did not answer. He simply watched the man with emotionless eyes as screams continued to fill the air.
Some cried out, unable to bear the pain, while others burst into laughter, unable to endure the terror.
With his back to them, the ‘Black Prince’ tilted his head.
“Why should I?”
* * *
A few days later.
No sooner had they left Baron Pücker’s domain and arrived in the ‘next territory,’ located in the central part of the Empire…
“Halt, you fiends!”
Another group of bandits appeared before Dale and his knights, who were disguised as travelers.
“Who dares to pass through Baron Grandel’s lands without permission!”
It was a robber baron who used his own territory as a base to plunder those who passed through. After all, one needed power to be a successful thief.
‘Ah, for the love of…’
Dale cursed inwardly as he looked at the bandits who were threatening them with such bravado.
As long as he hid his identity, he was bound to become prey. Yet, if he revealed his identity, he couldn’t let them live. Thus, in a state of near resignation, Dale asked.
“Have you no intention of just stepping aside quietly?”
“Haha, you know how to tell a funny joke!”
“He sure does, boss!”
“I bet he’s pissing his pants right now!”
The robber baron, Grandel, clad in heavy armor, burst out laughing with his men. Dale laughed along with them, with the swords of House Sachsen standing silently behind him, awaiting their master’s command.
After sharing a good laugh, Dale spoke.
“Funny, is it?”
* * *
Several more weeks passed as they crossed the central part of the continent, following the river tributaries that converged once more into the North Sea.
Along the way, they passed through the domains of several robber barons and bandit knights, and each time, an irreversible storm of blood was unleashed.
Afterward, they passed through the Imperial Free City of Amber, where they took a waterway known as the ‘Amber Road’ across the continent.
They were headed toward the land of the Goddess, the Sistina Papal State.
For the scion of a noble family, a man of power and status, to hide his identity and walk humbly on his own two feet—this was the courtesy the ‘Black Prince’ intended to show the Church through his pilgrimage, an act of atonement for the day the swords of House Sachsen had slaughtered the Goddess’s knights.
And as long as he showed such sincerity, the Church would have no choice but to respond in kind.
* * *
The Sistina Papal State, the Holy See city of Pucelle.
A room in the Apostolic Palace, before Saint Magdalena Plaza.
“Your Eminence, Cardinal Nikolai.”
He was one of the twelve clerics at the apex of the Goddess’s faith, a white mage who had reached the 6th circle.
An opponent befitting the station of the ‘Black Prince,’ who had traveled to the Goddess’s land on his own two feet. This was Nikolai Machia, an elder of the White Magic Tower and a cardinal of bishop-rank.
“I heard that a great deal of blood was shed in the battle that day, Young Lord.”
Dale of Sachsen. Son and heir of the Master of the Black Magic Tower, Lord Black, who held an unforgivable grudge against the White Magic Tower.
Nikolai was well aware of the reputation of the ‘Black Prince,’ famed as the greatest genius in the Empire. He also knew of the cruelty and infamy that his name carried.
“The brothers of Saint Magdalena were paragons of faith, and their sacrifice was truly regrettable news.”
“My excessive competence, it seems, led to more sacrifices than were necessary.”
‘The problem was I killed them too well.’
“…”
From top to bottom, this boy was the worst possible opponent for the Church.
“I, too, deeply regret the outcome of the Black-White Engagement.”
And yet, that very opponent was now bowing his head respectfully before him.
The scion of a Grand Duke, one of the most powerful men in the Empire, from the North—a region considered a barren wasteland for the Goddess’s faith.
‘Did he truly endure such a penance just for atonement?’
Nikolai asked himself.
No matter how brilliant his talent, he was still just an eleven-year-old boy. It wasn't out of the question that the horrors of a battlefield, of killing and being killed, had instilled in him some form of guilt.
Just like the young sons of noble houses who, unable to cope with the trauma of battle, sought refuge in the Goddess’s embrace.
‘Then this is for the best.’
Guilt—in other words, a sense of debt toward the divine—was a powerful tool of religion.
“I must admit, I too am deeply concerned by your cruelty, Young Lord.”
And so, Cardinal Nikolai continued, a kind smile on his face.
“But the Goddess’s mercy is open equally to all, Young Lord.”
“…”
“For there is no sin in this world that cannot be washed away.”
It can be washed away. You can be forgiven. Just as Cardinal Nikolai was about to continue his sweet whispers, he was interrupted.
“Did you say there is no sin in this world that cannot be washed away?”
“Indeed, that is correct.”
Nikolai nodded, and Dale spoke.
“—Is that why you sold the Goddess’s nation to the Empire?”
Sold the nation. For a moment, the color drained from Cardinal Nikolai’s face.
“At the time of the previous Pope’s assassination, when he refused the Empire’s annexation treaty…”
Dale continued, unperturbed, revealing a truth known to only a handful of people in the entire Empire.
“Your Eminence the Cardinal was there as well.”
Just before the forced annexation treaty between the Empire and the Papal State was signed, the Master of the White Magic Tower and King of the Papal State, the previous Pope, had voiced his resistance to the very end. As a result, he was eliminated by the Empire’s hound, the Hero from Another World.
It was all based on the betrayal of the twelve bishop-rank cardinals, including Nikolai.
“Has the Goddess forgiven Your Eminence’s sin of selling out your own country?”
“H-how do you know of what happened that day…”
Realizing the situation, the 6th-circle white mage, unable to hide his agitation, unleashed his pure white magic. But Dale’s expression remained utterly calm in the face of the swirling light magic.
He was unconcerned by the fact that the knights of House Sachsen were not immediately by his side.
“Do you think killing a mere representative of His Grace the Duke will be an effective way to silence him?”
It was a lie.
Duke Sachsen had no idea what was happening here. But there was no way for Cardinal Nikolai to know the truth.
As proof, the swirling magic of light sputtered a few times before dissipating into nothingness.
‘Is that truly the face of an eleven-year-old child?’
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
The notorious reputation of the Black Prince that people spoke of far surpassed his own imagination.
It made titles like ‘the Empire’s greatest genius’ or ‘the prodigy of the ducal house’ seem like a joke.
“…What is it you want?”
“His Grace the Duke did not come here to press the Church on its shameful secrets.”
Cardinal Nikolai spoke hesitantly, and Dale replied, acting solely as a proxy for Duke Sachsen’s will.
“On the contrary, he came to this place to swear silence on the truth of that day.”
He framed his actions as the will of Lord Black, who stood behind him.
“What our House Sachsen desires is a very small price for our silence.”
The price of silence. Nothing in this world is free.
“I hear there is a secret archive in the lowest depths of the Apostolic Palace, where the Church’s forbidden books are confined.”
“!”
At Dale’s next words, Cardinal Nikolai’s expression was once again colored with shock.
It was a forbidden place, accessible only to an extremely select few within the Church.
“D-don’t tell me…!”
“Grant me permission to peruse ‘Hell’s Library.’”
Hell’s Library. That was the moniker for the archive in the lowest level of the Apostolic Palace, where the Church sealed away ‘Designated Forbidden Grimoires.’
『The Book of the Black Goat』.
Where the most terrifying grimoire in the world, penned by an ancestor of House Sachsen, lay dormant.