Chapter 567: Alone
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 567: Alone
The tea had long since grown cold, untouched. Encrid hadn't even glanced at the refreshments, his mind elsewhere.
Krais had once remarked that Encrid was surprisingly adept at using his head.
"Pardon?"
Sitting across from him on a worn but plush sofa, Deutsch blinked blankly before belatedly asking for clarification. They were in a simple parlor, facing a plain, unadorned wooden table.
Deutsch was wondering why, of all things, Encrid was suddenly asking about a kidnapper's motives.
"If you have a Saintess, can you manufacture things like potions?" Encrid asked.
Deutsch blinked again. "...Me?"
"Yeah."
Why was he asking this?
"No," Deutsch answered honestly, despite his confusion.
"Is there anyone else who might be able to do such a thing?"
"...Would there even be?"
It was common sense. No one knew how the potions used by the Holy Order were produced. The only certainty was that their creation did not belong to the realm of alchemy. Furthermore, just because someone wielded Divine Power did not mean they could become a Saint or Saintess.
Encrid tried to look at the situation from the kidnapper's perspective, drawing upon what Audin had told him of the past.
Was the culprit someone whose dream was to kidnap a Saintess and start a potion factory? If so, wouldn't it be more efficient to simply study alchemy?
If not that, perhaps they were trying to cure a terminal illness? Even then, it made no sense.
Because if it were me, I would never do that.
Suppose he had the capability to kidnap a Saintess. And suppose he also had a terminal illness. What would be the most logical course of action?
Overcoming the layers of defenses guarding the temple to kidnap a Saintess was difficult—absurdly so. In that case, he would rather resolve to rob a few high nobles' estates. That would be much—no, waaaaay easier.
With that kind of wealth, he could make a donation large enough to qualify for instant treatment, no questions asked. It would be faster, more convenient, and far less risky than kidnapping a Saintess.
"Then why did they do it?"
There was no clear benefit. This wasn't a murder; it was a kidnapping. A kidnapping was a calculated act with a specific goal. In other words, it was done to gain some kind of advantage, but currently, there was none to be seen.
Would another Holy Order kidnap a Saintess out of jealousy? To bring her to their own fold? If caught, a conflict on the scale of the Holy Sword War would erupt immediately.
The Holy Sword War was a conflict from the dawn of history. A sword imbued with divinity had been discovered in a ruin, and every Holy Order that saw it claimed it as a relic of their own god, sparking a bloodbath. The death toll was said to have exceeded ten thousand. Since it happened so long ago, precise records were scarce, but the sheer scale of the tragedy was undisputed.
Afterward, the reconciled orders merged into one to ensure such a disaster would never happen again. Though the gods they worshipped differed, all the orders became brothers and sisters. At first, they might have been siblings in name only, but after centuries of being woven together by time, they were truly one.
"It's not a kidnapping."
Audin knew more about the Holy Order than Encrid did. Having observed them from both the inside and the outside, he reached the conclusion much faster.
"Probably."
It was only natural that Encrid reached the same conclusion as he spoke.
"I don't quite follow what you're talking about..." Unable to grasp the situation, Deutsch trailed off.
Encrid decided to ask for what he needed rather than waste time explaining. "Did the people from the temple just leave?"
It was a question born of experience. If you are chasing someone, and the target is escaping too effectively, what do you do?
If it were me, I'd increase the number of eyes.
What was difficult alone became manageable with two, and with ten, it became easy. All one had to do was increase the number of people who would follow orders without question. And where would one find people who wouldn't ask questions?
In this world, there were always those who would fight like ghouls for a few gold coins—even if it was highly unusual for the theocracy to spend Krona so lavishly.
"Pardon? Ah, yes. They asked us to tighten the city's security checks, and..."
"And?"
"Well, they asked if there was an information guild in the city."
It seemed there was someone reasonably clever among the pursuers from the theocracy. They had apparently arrived at the same conclusion as Encrid and decided to expand their numbers.
Encrid raised his head. "Where, and who?"
Deutsch was highly perceptive; he was starting to sense the shift in the atmosphere. He had a feeling they had gotten mixed up in something incredibly nasty.
Encrid, reading his thoughts, spoke first. "There won't be any harm to you."
Deutsch's complexion paled slightly, but he soon shook his head. "Even if there is, I will bear it."
He had no intention of backing down. His resolve was clear. He had witnessed the man who saved the city from the Gnoll attack, and by watching him, he had honed his skills and steeled his heart day by day.
Encrid had assumed Deutsch became mayor because he was quick-witted, but it was actually due to the support of the fellow pioneers who had settled the land with him. Since the Gnoll attack, Deutsch had lived for the city more than anyone else. It was born of his admiration for the heroic deeds of a single man.
Deutsch had not forgotten. He had lived as a mercenary for a long time; while quick-witted mercenaries survived long, those who also possessed loyalty survived even longer.
"If there is anything you need, I shall bring it to you."
Encrid did not refuse the offer. "Information, people's movements... Does this information guild only deal in secrets?"
The answer was in the question. Deutsch replied, "It's a brotherhood. A gang formed by a few criminals."
"I want to know everything they heard from the Holy Order, and everything they are doing."
"If you want everything..."
"Just tell me their location, and I'll handle it myself."
"No."
Deutsch shook his head, and Encrid could not break the man's will. How could he refuse when someone was offering help with such sincerity? Even in terms of efficiency, a local who had been there since the city's inception—and who was now its mayor—was much better suited for the task.
"Half a day is all I need. If you haven't eaten yet, please have a meal, Sir."
Deutsch bowed to the Knight of the Iron Wall and departed. Encrid watched him leave and requested a meal as suggested.
"Yes, yes."
The maid, answering twice in her nervousness, brought out various dishes. Meanwhile, Encrid quenched his thirst by gulping down the cold tea in one go, then looked at Audin.
Audin's eyes weren't shining, and he seemed to have nothing on his mind, but Encrid was not fooled. He was merely feigning composure. While his heart might not be racing, his nerves were undoubtedly on edge.
"We will save her," Audin said.
Encrid nodded.
"Naturally," Sinar chimed in.
If it were a kidnapping, the child's own will wouldn't have played a part. But what if it was an escape? That was different. What should one do upon seeing a child being persecuted and abused? What if that child's sacrifice, the abuse they endured, was for the "peace of the continent"?
He didn't know, nor did he care. Frankly, he thought the idea of the continent's peace depending on a single child was utter bullshit. Therefore, he would save her first and ask questions later.
What if all of this was a delusion, a misunderstanding, or a mere mistake, and she had actually been kidnapped? That was fine too. If they rescued the child, it would mean placing the theocracy in their debt.
But if it really was an escape—if that was the case... it wouldn't matter if the opponent was the theocracy or the heavens themselves.
*
Roge was the leader of the largest brotherhood in Felheim. He had a brother who had been with him since childhood and an organization he had built from the ground up in the pioneer city.
Crash!
The doors to the brotherhood's headquarters, a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, were smashed wide open.
"What the fuck?"
Roge pulled back his chin and gripped the hilt of his dagger. The figure standing in the doorway was backlit by the midday sun, their face cast in deep shadow. Roge narrowed his eyes. The silhouette looked familiar. He saw a long weapon held in the figure's right hand—a spear with a heavy blade at the end.
A glaive?
The shadowed figure spoke. "Subdue them. If they resist, you have permission to kill them all."
At those words, soldiers poured in. They were the direct guards of Felheim—the vigilantes and the core military force of the city. They were not opponents a mere criminal gang could face.
"Wh-what?"
The brotherhood members panicked. Should they fight? They gripped their daggers, hesitating to even draw them.
"Jake?" one of the members recognized a soldier. He tried to act familiar, but the soldier ignored him.
"Stay still. Put your weapons down," the soldier named Jake said. The spearhead in his hand looked as though it wouldn't tolerate any games. The blade slid forward, stopping inches from the man's stomach. Jake's gaze was cold. "Drop them."
Roge had always thought of his gang as the bottom-feeders who handled the city's dirty work. Though he had never met Deutsch Fullman privately, he had subtly boasted that they shared a relationship where they were responsible for the city's day and night, respectively.
Deutsch had never bothered to dispute those words. At least, not until now. Hadn't they been in a relationship of mutual respect? So what was this?
"I won't say it twice. Recite every request you've received recently. Was there a target you were chasing? Did any bounty hunters enter the city as well?"
Roge blinked. All of this over just that?
About an hour ago, a request had indeed come in, asking them to compile and bring over any recent commissions they had received. Even though it was a message delivered directly by Mayor Deutsch Fullman himself...
If we just blab about that, how is an information guild supposed to make a living?
Did they think he was some idiot who would talk just because they told him to? So he had casually ignored it. If they wanted to hear it, they could come in person. In a relationship of mutual respect, that was the proper way to do things.
"You said to come in person, didn't you?" Deutsch Fullman spoke, stepping into the light. The scar on his face looked more menacing than ever.
A pioneer city was a place where people lived by taking risks. Naturally, rough characters were bound to gather. Even after Encrid had wiped out the Gnoll Colony, many things had happened in the city. The fact that Deutsch had started as the guard captain and became the mayor meant he had resolved all those matters "beautifully."
One of his methods was to ignore the clumsy provocations directed at him, leaving the bastards alone as long as they didn't cause major problems. Such an attitude made his opponents let their guard down. When an incident occurred and he moved decisively, his target would end up doing nothing but blinking blankly, just like this.
It was a standard tactic, but those who didn't know it always fell for it.
"Hey, what was your name again? Roge? Ruge? Shall we start by cutting off one of your ears before we talk?"
Deutsch Fullman set out to resolve it "beautifully," just as before. After all, his definition of "beautiful" usually involved decisive force. If he didn't take action, he would drop subtle hints, but if he did act, he was ruthless. If he didn't go this far, the kind of bastards who stabbed people in back alleys would flock to the city in droves.
He did not tolerate such things. While there might be other reasons why Felheim maintained this level of public order, it was a universally acknowledged fact that the glaive wielded by Deutsch Fullman played a significant part.
"Spit it out quietly. There's no good in shedding blood."
Roge felt humiliated, and his hand twitched toward his dagger. Sshring. The blade reflected the light. Roge gritted his teeth.
Then, he gently laid the dagger down on the floor. Politely and meekly, with the tip of the blade pointing toward himself.
"Yes, Lord Castellan."
What did a little humiliation matter? Surviving was what was important.
He spilled everything. In truth, it was hardly a secret. An Inquisitor who claimed to have come from the Holy City had commissioned them. They were looking for a young girl traveling "alone" among the strangers passing through the city.
It wasn't a particularly difficult task, yet the reward was generous. At the Inquisitor's request, they had even tracked down some bounty hunters and placed commissions with them.
"Alone?" Deutsch Fullman asked, interrupting the story. "No, go on."
He urged him to continue. Roge replied with a submissive "Yes, sir," and detailed everything.
Deutsch began to think. Looking at the flow of the story, he understood why Encrid had come here. But why would an Inquisitor or a Crusader from the Holy City hire a gang like this, spending Krona to do something they could have easily asked the Mayor to do?
That Holy Order? An order so stingy that rumors circulated about them secretly selling rock salt? Could they really be so lavish?
Something smells fishy.
The detail about her being "alone" also nagged at him.
Deutsch Fullman deployed his forces as he went to report to Encrid. He intended to first determine where the priests and Crusaders had headed.
"They have already left the city," his adjutant reported, having quickly assessed the situation.
Deutsch asked as he walked, "Which direction?"
"East."
Having gathered the information, Deutsch returned to Encrid and shared his findings.
Encrid asked back, just as Deutsch had. "Alone?"
"Yes, they say she is alone."
Encrid straightened his posture. An escape, not a kidnapping. It seemed his prediction was correct. Audin heard this as well.
"Did you say she was alone, Brother Mayor? Are you certain?"
"Yes."
Though there was no concrete evidence, the testimony supported their suspicion. Encrid decided to alter the terms of his mission. Instead of helping the priests "rescue" the Saintess, he would prioritize saving the child from her pursuers.
However, a question still remained.
But how has she not been caught yet?
Back when he worked as a bounty hunter, Encrid had memorized the faces of the most famous hunters. There were three who were said to be the most skilled. He had heard that two of them were now dead and the other had retired. Fascinatingly, all three had come from the Holy Order.
When he had asked how that could be, the man who taught him the trade had said this: "Tracking people down is what the Holy Order does best. That's for sure."
When asked why, the hunter had laughed. "Why do you think? Because they've done it a lot."
Hunting was a task that required experience rather than raw talent. Many fled when branded as heretics, and chasing them down one by one naturally honed one's skills.
And yet the child, who had once been a victim of kidnapping but had now become an escape-artist Saintess, was currently evading those very experts.
It was a feat far more miraculous than any mystery wrought by magic.