Chapter 219: Arrogance
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 219: Arrogance
The waters of the West Sea were savage. High waves crashed relentlessly over the dock, which never seemed to have a chance to dry. The moored ship bobbed up and down without rest.
“We’re ready. We’ll be using this ship to travel through the port cities of the north and on to the Western Continent.”
A merchant who introduced himself as Boatman explained the itinerary to Balak. He stood beside the wooden plank connecting the ship to the dock.
Balak nodded and approached Van der Belt, who was staring blankly out at the sea.
“It will be announced that you escaped on your own.”
Van der Belt habitually rubbed his wrist. A red band of skin circled it, the mark left by the tight iron restraints he had worn.
The mark was a clear sign that he had only recently been freed from prison.
“Did Duke Babel truly permit this? He’s letting an assassin who tried to kill him go this easily? And in a single day?”
It had been a mission he was prepared to die for. Hadn’t the two assassins captured with him already met their end? He had expected to follow the same path.
But when Balak appeared, the grim, concrete future he had envisioned began to warp.
“How on earth…?”
An assassin, once caught, was usually fated to die in excruciating pain, serving as an outlet for their target’s rage.
Though he had been spared that fate, Van der Belt couldn’t bring himself to feel relieved. He didn’t know what Balak’s true intentions were for helping him.
‘To see for myself who the true apostle of God is?’
What would change even if he saw it with his own eyes? Compared to the bountiful Southern Continent, the Western Continent was always lacking in resources.
Even if the Emperor governed benevolently and cared for the vast majority of his subjects, as Balak claimed, he couldn’t change the environment itself.
Besides, hadn’t he said the Emperor came from a humble knightly family? Knights, as a rule, were often harsher to commoners than nobles were, as if trying to deny their own common past.
The only other possibility was for the Emperor to demonstrate his devout faith, but that was something anyone could fake, making it an unreliable standard for judgment.
There had to be another motive. Otherwise, this situation made no sense.
“A price was paid.”
“A price?”
What kind of price would one have to promise to secure the freedom of an assassin who had tried to kill you? Van der Belt couldn’t even begin to imagine.
He felt a heavy stone settle in his chest. It was as if, in exchange for escaping physical restraints, he had been bound by invisible shackles that were all the more powerful.
“His Imperial Majesty is also the first sword of the church. He has a duty to look after the descendants of Saint Ontanius. Furthermore, while the price Duke Babel received may be great to him, it is no burden to His Majesty. Everything is relative, after all.”
Balak was filled with conviction, certain that Van der Belt would switch his allegiance the moment he set foot on the Western Continent. That attitude hadn’t changed since they first met.
Van der Belt’s heart grew heavier. The more certain Balak seemed, the more he wavered.
“How can you trust me enough to let me go? It wouldn’t be difficult for me to slip away from a mere merchant and his hired guards.”
Van der Belt didn’t realize that entertaining such a thought was proof that he was already wavering.
Weakened by extensive torture and with his judgment clouded by Balak’s psychological pressure, he was not in his right mind.
“That wouldn’t be so bad, either. Feel free to wander the Western Continent on your own. You will only come to see the truth of my words more clearly.”
Balak’s demeanor was like that of a fortress that had never once been breached by an external enemy. Van der Belt was now moving beyond wavering into a state of confusion.
‘Could it be… No. That’s impossible.’
It was then that a sliver of doubt seeped into his once-unshakeable heart. Van der Belt hastily denied it, but once planted, the suspicion refused to disappear.
It merely sank beneath the surface, waiting for a chance to rear its head again.
“I witnessed a miracle with my own two eyes.”
“A witch’s power is easily mistaken for the providence of God. In such times, if you focus on what is done with that power, you will come to know the truth.”
The power itself is not important. What matters is what one does with that power. Faced with this irrefutable argument, Van der Belt fell silent.
Balak led him toward the ship. While they had been talking, the preparations for departure had been completed.
Stopping before the gangplank, Van der Belt turned to look back at Balak, who was seeing him off.
“Why are you going to such lengths? The Belt family is distinguished, and I am a powerful knight, but I can’t be that valuable to the Emperor.”
Hadn’t Balak said it himself? Everything was relative. Van der Belt stared directly at him, as if refusing to leave without a proper answer.
“Why, to catch the witch, of course. Just imagine, if you will, that the apostle of God you believe in is actually a witch. Ah, just hypothetically, of course.”
Seeing Van der Belt’s expression instinctively harden, Balak held up a hand and continued.
“If even a knight from a distinguished family with a saint for an ancestor can be deceived, what of the vast majority of ordinary people? They will surely be toyed with in the witch’s grasp. His Majesty wishes to prevent that.”
“And what does the Emperor gain from that?”
“Do parents think of personal gain when they care for their children? His Imperial Majesty is the ruler of the three continents and has a duty to care for his subjects.”
“…!”
For the first time, Van der Belt failed to control his expression.
Most nobles treated commoners as livestock that paid taxes. Yet the Emperor, who could be called the pinnacle of the nobility, was thinking and acting in the complete opposite manner.
‘It must be a lie.’
It was the same kind of sentiment that had driven the great ancestor of the Belt family, Saint Ontanius, who had sacrificed himself for the sick. That was precisely why he couldn’t believe it.
‘It has to be a lie.’
Van der Belt boarded the ship without another word. He had to go to the Western Continent, if only to prove that Balak’s words were lies.
And if, just if, what he said was true… Van der Belt stood at the ship’s rail, gazing at Balak, who was now a distant, shrinking dot.
‘If I have made a mistake, I swear I will burn this body to set things right.’
*
Meanwhile, I remained on the dock, lost in thought as I stared out at the vast sea.
‘Is this world really comprised of only four continents?’
The thought occurred to me suddenly. All four landmasses were too small to be called continents.
In the game, their representation might have been limited by practical constraints, but the ground I stood on now was reality, wasn't it?
Perhaps a world far larger than these four continents awaited me beyond the sea. No, realistically, that was the more likely possibility.
“Balak. It’s ready.”
My thoughts were cut short. Jean Philippe, who had been watching from a step back, urged me on.
I gazed at the rough, churning sea for a moment longer before turning away.
“Let’s go.”
The time it would take for Van der Belt to tour the Western Continent and return would be between two and three months. I would learn of Vivian’s whereabouts after that.
I decided to accept the delay. Van der Belt was not a man who would talk under torture, and I believed I still had plenty of time.
‘I’ve learned two things from this incident.’
First, it seemed Vivian had won over two of the continent’s Three Powers.
Second, those two Powers had not managed to achieve perfect harmony.
It made sense. How could the Three Powers, who had clashed over every little thing in their ambition to become the ruler of the continent, unite with just a few words from their superiors?
The weight of the blood shed by both sides during their long years of competition was anything but light.
In other words, I had time.
‘This is proof that Vivian is not a skilled ruler.’
Her abilities as a witch might be unparalleled, but her political acumen and strategic mind were, frankly, pathetic. It was as if her intellect couldn’t keep up with her power.
That was also why she had tried to borrow the hands of a modern person to achieve her goals, despite knowing the future.
What was puzzling was that this weakness should have been compensated for if the Witch of the Sky was by her side.
‘Is she not with Vivian?’
According to what I learned through Boatman, the Witch of the Sky was not where she was supposed to be at this time.
The trail had gone cold right around the time Vivian was presumed to have arrived on the Southern Continent, so I had assumed the two had joined forces long ago.
But seeing how things were unfolding, the thought that this might not be the case crossed my mind.
If that assumption was true, and if I could recruit the Witch of the Sky before Vivian did, I could drive Vivian into a corner.
‘The problem is, that might be even harder than catching Vivian herself.’
If Eleanor was the most troublesome of the witches, the Witch of the Sky was the most powerful—not because of her ability, but because of her strategic mind.
I filed that possibility away in the back of my mind and followed Jean Philippe.
I then dressed for effect, donning a flamboyant ceremonial gambeson and a cloak. I also mounted a striking white horse.
Only then did I return to the Duke’s capital. The heat of the tournament had not yet cooled, and the city was so crowded there was hardly room to move.
“It’s Balak!”
When one person recognized me and pointed, we were quickly surrounded by a crowd.
Was it because I had shown a glimpse of my skill when I faced Ohalla the Butcher? Or had I gained popularity as a side effect of the final three being revealed as assassins?
Now, there were more cheers than jeers. A rumor was even circulating that Duke Babel might name me the tournament champion in place of the assassins.
‘A rumor started by the Duke himself.’
As I waved my hand in response to the crowd’s support, Jean Philippe, who was struggling to push through the throng, glared at me with sharp eyes.
But wasn’t this also part of the plan? I ignored him and continued to sear the image of myself entering Duke Babel’s castle into the minds of the people.
Knights and soldiers were assembled in the castle courtyard. They all looked as if they had just been through a battle—their armor was broken, their clothes torn. The finishing touch was the animal blood splattered here and there.
“I’ve carefully selected only the most trustworthy men.”
Duke Babel, who stood at their center, stepped forward. I dismounted and gave a slight bow.
“The enemy will be completely fooled.”
“Of course they will. I took part in this play myself. When would be a good time?”
“The time it takes to drink a cup of tea should be enough. It would be strange for a champion who didn’t even make it to the final three to escape from the depths of Your Grace’s castle.”
We were planning to stage a grand play. The story would be that Duke Babel, startled by the assassins, had grown suspicious of the other participants and had begun to torture those with uncertain origins.
Among them, only I had noticed something was amiss and escaped before Duke Babel could reveal his evil intentions. That was the rumor we intended to spread.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend. The idea was that if a warrior of my caliber developed a grudge against Duke Babel, Vivian might approach me.
‘By the time Van der Belt returns, I will have finished all preparations to get close to Vivian.’
It didn’t matter if it failed. The important thing was that I gain a reason to abandon all my foundations, leave Duke Babel’s sphere of influence, and become his enemy.
“It’s time.”
Jean Philippe announced, gauging the position of the sun. Duke Babel nodded and said.
“Don’t forget your promise.”
He was referring to the price for releasing Van der Belt.
“The promise will be kept.”
Duke Babel gestured with his hand. The knights and soldiers gathered in the courtyard began to clash their weapons together, creating a deafening noise. Screams mingled with the din.
Now, it was my turn.
“Out of my way! I’ll kill anyone who blocks me!”
Spurring my horse, I charged out of the Duke’s castle. A gatekeeper hastily turned to block my path, but my sword was slightly faster.
“Argh!”
The waiting gatekeeper collapsed, bursting a hidden pouch of animal blood.
I deliberately rode my horse down the busiest main road. Behind me, knights and soldiers bearing the clear marks of battle gave chase. Many people witnessed the scene.
It was the perfect condition for the rumor we created to spread like wildfire. By the time the rumor had grown to the point where everyone in the Duke’s capital knew of it…
I, disguised as someone else, had already returned to the Duke’s castle, avoiding public notice.
It was time to pay the price for Van der Belt’s release. That price was none other than the promise to free the Duke from the Dream Witch.
“So it was true…”
Duke Babel, who had woken from his bedchamber only around noon, had a look of disbelief on his face. I rose from the sofa where I had been sitting beside his bed.
“Darkness can never defeat the light.”
The Dream Witch’s power was nullified simply by having the target and me in the same room. Duke Babel, having slept in the same room as me, had enjoyed a deep, peaceful sleep.
I framed it appropriately in the name of God. With this, Vivian would learn that I was by Duke Babel’s side, but that was what I wanted.
She would never guess that Balak, who had escaped with a grudge a few days ago, and the person presumed to be sticking close to Duke Babel were one and the same.
“However, must we continue to share a room?”
Now that he was free from his insomnia, Duke Babel seemed to find my presence uncomfortable. Then again, weren’t humans inherently fickle? I shook my head.
“Of course not. Now that she’s aware of my presence, she’ll try a few more times, and when that fails, she’ll seek another target.”
Did he think I enjoyed sharing a room with an old man? On the contrary, I was the one who wanted to decline. Unaware of my thoughts, Duke Babel smiled brightly.
“That’s good to hear.”
It was when Duke Babel was no longer attacked by the Dream Witch, even when I was away, that I received an unexpected letter.
‘I know who you are?’
The letter contained only that single line. The important part was the recipient’s name written on the envelope.
Allen Tobalts.
It was my real name.