Blue Blood (2)
I tore my gaze from the sky and looked back down at the ground, where the humans were still screeching at one another.
After Ragnarok, most of the gods were presumed dead. Even Odin’s avatar, who had met his end on the front lines, had said as much. In the twilight of the divine era, the world Odin had dreamed of was one where humanity overcame its predetermined fate. In the early days of ancient civilization, that dream might have been realized to some degree.
If Diabolo was right, it seems there really were exceptional talents capable of filling the empty seats left by the gods.
Yet some humans couldn’t let go of their gods or their religions. They shoved absurd demands at those brilliant individuals—“You! Become our new mother!” The mad faction that sprouted from that insanity was precisely the secret weapon of the first senate that had tormented Tirsi.
A technique that took mages from ancient civilization—mages powerful enough to rival the Divine Throne—and used necromancy on nothing but their mana to enslave them. I had no idea whether the man named Arma Shunas, who had lived in the same era as the first senate, agreed with that ideology, but to me they were all batshit crazy.
Elevating humans to godhood in place of the lost gods? If it had stopped there, I might have pitied them and left it at that. Leaving the power of the human mage Shunas to his descendants? If it was like passing down an inheritance to one’s children, I could understand. But the prerequisite that you had to sacrifice one innocent family member to receive that legacy was something I could never accept.
Realizing I once again had a mountain of things to verify made my head throb. Even though I had closed the rift, the Yotuns were still out there, just as I had said. After that, I would need to pull every string I could to make sure Tirsi wasn’t charged with conspiracy.
…And I need to find out what kind of aftereffects the ritual performed on Tirsi will have.
I glanced at Veronica, the greatest authority on magic in our party. But even our goddess would find it difficult to produce immediate answers. I felt a fresh pang of regret at letting Diabolo slip away. I should have sucked every last scrap of the “lecture on how to create a god even with descendants” that the first senate had left in that bastard’s soul!
As I stood there thinking, Signatio approached, sweating. Her complexion was poor from using a great deal of mana, yet her steps remained steady. For better or worse, this person was a superhuman.
She—no, she—gave me a worried look and spoke.
“Excuse me, but I overheard. It seems you are being suspected of something as ridiculous as being a black mage.”
“Yeah. Heh heh, somehow it turned out that way.”
“This is no laughing matter. In politics, trivial suspicions often come back to bite you later with ‘there was that incident back then’ as well. It is extremely common.”
Signatio, who appeared to come from a noble house—Armalux or something—was far more realistic than Minerva or me. She must have seen or heard plenty before entering the Janus priesthood.
Fuck, when you put it like that, it does sound convincing.
I clicked my tongue. The presence or absence of a criminal record definitely made a huge difference even in a trial. People always said justification was important in politics, but that was complete bullshit. When they said justification mattered, it really meant that if the story matched on both ends, bastards would force their way through no matter what.
The other side wasn’t someone you could reason with. Getting dragged into court later on some dogshit nonsense would be the worst. I never used sorcery! There’s decisive evidence I’ve been hiding it all! Who knew what they might claim?
While I was seriously considering adding nobles to the biological subclass of “professors,” Signatio suddenly made a suggestion with a perfectly blank face.
“If it is acceptable to you, I can officially prove your innocence and record it as such. Would that be agreeable?”
“Oh, you’d do that? Then I’d be more than happy!”
I answered brightly. Weren’t Koreans a people of records ever since the Joseon dynasty? Records don’t betray you unless they’re tampered with. If the Punitive Executor—the fourth job advancement of an inquisitor—stamped “This guy is innocent” with full authority, nothing could be more reassuring.
When I readily accepted, Signatio gave a small nod of understanding. Then she said,
“Then—— please undress.”
“…Excuse me? Undress? What, exactly?”
I was thrown into complete confusion. This person looked like she had zero sense of humor and would only make sudden brain-fart gags. Undress? What? The false accusation?
But Signatio spoke as mercilessly as a bank teller pointing out where to sign.
“Remove your clothes where the witnesses can see. I will permit you to keep your underwear.”
“…Why?”
“Those who harbor darkness and negative mana within their bodies. That is the church’s precise definition of a ‘black mage.’ To leave no room for doubt, it is best to be thorough.”
I had nothing to say in return. Hadn’t I said it myself many times? Black mage equals bug-eaten. Darkness and negative mana were the kind of mana that wrecked living things. That was why every black mage had plenty of physical defects. Overcoming them or not was the true measure of strength.
The unicorn had used golems to avoid exposing herself to darkness and negative mana. Corruptus and Diabolo had trained their bodies to endure the side effects. But even the black mages of Immortalis had never fully prevented their bodies from being devoured by bugs and rotting while still alive.
So if I were a black mage, there would be traces left on my body.
Besides, if a priestess like Signatio confirmed it, my innocence would be proven perfectly. All that remained was the courage to endure the embarrassment.
I weighed the pros and cons and concluded that my shame was far cheaper than future disasters. “Understood. Do I only need to undress in front of you, Signatio?”
“To dispel any suspicion that I might have been bribed, it would be better to have additional witnesses.”
“Then I shall do it.”
The person who immediately stepped forward was Minerva—her speech pattern made it obvious. This auntie really didn’t hesitate. Was she that interested in a young man’s six-pack?
“If it is Lady Minerva, there will be no objections. Still, it would be preferable to have one more person…”
While Signatio offered appropriate pleasantries, she glanced at the people who were pretending not to watch but were clearly focused on us. The first noble to step forward from the back was someone I already knew.
“Would I be sufficient, Punitive Executor Signatio?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you for addressing me by that title, Lady Primor.”
“That is a relief. No one would think the three of us had been bribed by the same person.”
The latter half of Primor’s words were directed at Minerva. Minerva, who had been badly wounded by someone from the Armaals family, simply gave a slight nod of her chin in reply.
“Then let us proceed.”
Perhaps because Signatio still possessed some human feeling, she did not demand I strip completely on the spot. I felt a wave of self-loathing at having to put on a strip show in front of aunties of various ages, but resisting would only make the consequences of suspicion far worse.
So I changed my mindset. They say if you can’t avoid it, you might as well enjoy it. I couldn’t exactly enjoy exposing myself, but I could at least try to face it positively.
I already showed Primor anyway.
I removed my armor, then stripped off my top and pants in one smooth motion.
“…Ahem.”
“Ehem……”
The two married women blushed and turned their heads the moment they saw my body. Seriously, why were they reacting like that when they were both married? If my logical reasoning was correct, Primor at least should be experienced.
“Hmm. The suspicion itself was pointless. There are no traces of black magic anywhere.”
As if she felt no shame looking at a man’s naked torso, Signatio stared at my chest and spoke. But fuck, this is way too serious and it’s driving me insane! Plus it’s cold so my nipples are getting hard! When the hell does this end?!
“However, I sense a faint trace of darkness and negative mana that once flowed through you… Have you perhaps been cursed?”
“Excuse me?”
For some reason I felt like every time Signatio spoke I could only respond with “Excuse me?” But the claim that darkness and negative mana had once flowed through my body—
Oh shit.
There had been a time.
—Drip.
Cold sweat ran down my back and turned icy in the spring air. It hadn’t been black magic, but there had definitely been a similar incident! Back when I beat the hell out of Yerna, I had sucked up the darkness and negative mana that filled the city of the dead like crazy and even used magic! She had to be talking about that!
“Cough, cough! Ah, no. It’s not that, but… well, I’ve fought quite a few black mages, you see.”
I made a frantic excuse. This is bad! The place meant to prove my innocence had instantly transformed into an inquisitorial scene that made my heart clench! It was like confidently blowing into the breathalyzer only to suddenly remember you’d left your license at home…!!!
“Quite a few, you say? Besides today?”
“Yep, of course! This is… you know, it’s like my livelihood! Those bastards have marked me now, so who knows if I’ll get cursed again without realizing it in the future!”
“I see. That is a truly pious achievement.”
My acting was sloppy because I was flustered, but despite the impressive political insight she had shown earlier, Signatio seemed to let it pass without much concern. Did she trust her own judgment that much? Fucking cool! Yes! Once you become a pro, you have to know how to trust your own abilities! You really are the best! I’m sorry for secretly calling you an androgynous witch inside! Long live God-Janus! Loyalty, loyalty!
“Hmm. The possibility of future curses is certainly concerning.”
Signatio, whose body had grown lighter after losing that massive weapon, took out a small badge and handed it to me.
“Take this. It is a holy symbol of the church registered under my name.”
“Excuse me? Why give this to me?”
“If you ever need assistance regarding curses, please come find us. The grace of Lord Janus descends upon curses as well.”
It felt like she was indirectly saying I would get cursed later. Wasn’t that statement itself a curse? Without thinking, I opened my mouth.
“Oh, thank you so much!! I’ll treasure it as a family heirloom!!”
Wasn’t this like picking up an unexpected clue to lift Veronica’s curse? As expected, justice prevails! If a good person like me were executed on a false charge, it would be the world’s misfortune! Absolutely!
“Then I shall take my leave first and attend to the remaining duties. I give thanks to the gods for this coincidental encounter.”
“Yes! Safe travels and stay healthy!”
The androgynous ultra-beauty Signatio departed with the modest yet dignified gait of a true master. Was she heading off to hunt Yotuns now? It was a shame—I could have joined her, ground some burning event points, and left a good impression.
Minerva watched the priestess’s back with the look of someone deeply moved.
“Indeed. Performing one’s duty is the greatest privilege of the noble. Good. I should emulate her.”
Minerva muttered to herself while Primor simply stared at my face without a word. I didn’t feel like talking either, so my thoughts wandered.
I’ll put the curse on Veronica and the Bicorn tribe aside for now. First I should ask her to examine Tirsi’s physical condition.
What I needed to do immediately was review the enlightenment of Aura I had gained earlier so I wouldn’t forget it, then join the hunt for the remaining Yotuns. The nobles still hadn’t fled, so it would be easier to absorb mana if I participated now.
Hunting Yotuns should be manageable since I know the tricks. The real problem is making sure Tirsi doesn’t get hurt while we’re busy… Ah, fuck! How did the mana flow around my heart when I released Aura again?
The more I thought, the more the fatigue that hadn’t fully drained pressed down on my shoulders. Primor spoke to me while I was lost in thought.
“You are a diligent person. What do you plan to do now, Lord Yesugei?”
“Ah, yes. I intend to check on my companions’ conditions first. The young lady harmed by Diabolo is an acquaintance I met in Britannia, so I was worried whether the innocent girl had been injured.”
Seizing the opportunity, I pushed the “Tirsi is innocent” narrative and, riding the momentum, spoke to Minerva as well.
“Lord of Lucregens. As I mentioned before, if there is a schedule for monster subjugation, could you include me?”
“You may call me Minerva. Aren’t you tired?”
“Not at all. I’d rather prevent anyone else from getting hurt if possible.”
It would increase my mana, improve my image, and help when defending Tirsi later. There were so many damn reasons to join the remnant hunt—why would I rest? Suffering when young was bullshit, but if you could “sell” it, you might as well do it. A husband who doesn’t work can’t provide. We already have four wives at home, fuck.
“Very good. I like your spirit. Come find us in ten minutes.”
Minerva gave a small laugh at my ambition and nodded.
“By the way, Nord. If you have a surname, why didn’t you tell us?”
“Excuse me? A surname?”
“Yes. You were called Yesugei earlier. Is that not a surname? Or perhaps your real name, judging by the pronunciation. If you prefer, I will continue calling you Nord in the future. Do as you wish.”
With that, she turned and walked away. Were all Romanians this cool? If I were single I might have fallen for her and dreamed of becoming the otherworld MILF hunter Nord.
While indulging in such escapism, I turned my neck like a rusty nutcracker. Primor was smiling at me with gentle eyes.
—It’s true that my head is a little better than most people’s, but there is still a limit to how many things I can handle at once.
—If I’m thinking about other things, I can’t avoid making verbal slips.
That was something I had thought myself before going to fight Diabolo. I’m going to lose my damn mind. Who could have known it would become foreshadowing!
“I wondered why you didn’t come to the scene yourself… As expected, my suspicions were correct.”
She had waited for the exact moment my mind was elsewhere, then pierced my lie like a master marksman. She asked quietly,
“Is that face real this time?”
Tirsi! I’m fucked!