Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Narak (Abyss) (1)
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Federback sat in his room, meditating.
A single red snake slithered into his ear, circling inside his skull.
At the same time, the mana throughout his body began to burn white.
Behind Federback's back, white snakes and snowflakes swirled, forming two large mana rings.
In the terminology of the Great War of the Demon Realm era, this was the realm of the White Serpent Transcending the Gate.
It was a training ring heralding a complete 2nd Circle master.
'......But I'm still far from it.'
To ascend to 3rd Circle, he needed to stain his sword with much blood.
Of course, not just any innocent blood, but blood infused with evil and demons.
That was how the bloodline of the Demon King Slayer blossomed.
Federback spent some time incinerating the accumulated waste in his veins, expanding his mana throughout his entire body.
Right then.
Knock knock knock—
Someone knocked on the door.
"Come in."
As soon as Federback gave the order, the door opened.
A young bureaucrat stared at Federback with a terrified expression.
"The Patriarch is summoning you."
"Understood."
Federback rose to his feet.
Red sweat, like blood, dripped from his perfectly toned, muscle-bound naked body.
Federback wiped himself down with a dry towel and donned his clothes.
Then he turned to the bureaucrat beside him.
"What of the roster for 'that place'?"
"It's been prepared exactly as you instructed!"
The bureaucrat handed Federback a thick ledger.
Federback's status within Meursault Castle had become worlds apart from before.
Now, the bureaucrats here would even pretend to die if he ordered it.
Federback nodded and accepted the roster.
"I'll head to 'that place' soon. Prepare everything."
"Of course, Young Master!"
The bureaucrat nodded briskly, his discipline even sharper than when facing the Patriarch.
The Patriarch's office.
Federback approached Soleil and gave his report.
"Reporting. Since the edicts were posted, 34 major criminals, 553 economic offenders, and over 3,000 accomplices have been apprehended. Of these, 108 have been sentenced to death, 185 summarily executed, and the rest await trial."
These were the rats culled over the past week.
Through denunciations, purges, and ironclad control, crime in Meursault had been eradicated.
Of course, not a single commoner had suffered in the process.
On the contrary, budgets for poor relief had surged, making life far more abundant for the territory's residents.
These days, the knights of House Meursault were even enjoying outings to the villages.
Whenever House Meursault members descended, the entire village would shower them with flowers and cheers.
Soleil nodded.
"Public sentiment toward Meursault is overwhelmingly favorable. Even the capital's nobles have sent letters of support."
"That's fortunate."
"However, we should ease up on the summary executions now. We've killed too many. Some are whispering that Meursault has gone mad for blood."
"We're mad for blood, that's correct. More precisely, mad for the blood of the wicked."
Killing one wicked man and drawing his blood allowed a hundred good men to live in peace.
Soleil smiled.
"That's quite different from Cardina's view."
"What did Sister say?"
"See? Calling her 'Sister' instead of 'Eldest Daughter' sounds much warmer, doesn't it? Cardina came to see me recently about the new edicts."
Soleil lightly tapped his desk and continued.
"She felt the special laws were a bit harsh."
"That's unexpected. I thought Sister was an iron-blooded judge."
"Even that iron-blooded judge said the special laws were too harsh."
"But the effects are undeniable."
"Hmm, still, there's that saying: 'Let ten thieves go free rather than condemn one innocent.'"
Federback nodded at Soleil's words.
It was good advice.
Good only until the Great War of the Demon Realm.
Federback, who had endured the war against the Demon King, knew better than anyone how hollow those words became.
'Let ten thieves go free rather than condemn one innocent.'
In the era of the Great War of the Demon Realm, it changed to this:
'Condemn ten innocents rather than let one thief go free.'
The reason was all too obvious.
'Because letting one thief slip away meant the deaths of hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of humans.'
The Great War era was that merciless.
Overlook one internal traitor, and a fortress of tens of thousands would fall to the demons.
Humanity dwindled bit by bit, until fewer than a hundred remained in the end.
Extinction.
The utter downfall of a species.
Having lived through it, Federback could hold no other values.
"......Understood for now."
Federback nodded to Soleil.
Most major criminals had already been executed anyway; only small fry remained.
There was no longer reason to abuse summary execution authority, so he complied with Soleil's words.
Soleil nodded.
"Thank you for agreeing. And you've worked hard. Must have been short-handed."
"The soldiers bore the brunt."
"I'll grant them special bonuses."
"That's excellent."
Federback nodded.
He could still hear the laughter of the knights and soldiers who had patrolled the territory tirelessly these past weeks.
Then Soleil asked.
"By the way, purging all those criminals has left massive personnel shortages."
"We'll need to recruit new blood."
"We're preparing a large public hiring, but I called you to ask if you had any ideas. No matter how much they helped in this 'war,' we can't appoint the denunciators."
"Of course not."
Administrative and supply gaps had already formed across Meursault territory.
Filling them required massive hiring.
Soleil appeared deep in thought.
Then.
"Please reassign me elsewhere. That way, I can handle the denunciators' punishments and the promotion of new talent in one go."
Federback made his request.
Soleil's eyes widened round.
"Reassign you? Where? Do you have a place in mind?"
House Meursault had several desirable postings.
The medical institute, where bright minds gathered.
The judicial office, which drafted laws.
The Hall of Arts, where the cultured elite convened.
These places had light workloads, high prestige, and steady contact with the upper crust—highly coveted spots.
They were prime positions for building networks with the next generation of leaders.
But.
"I want to go to '......'."
"!"
Soleil couldn't help but be shocked by Federback's stated desire.
The post Federback wanted was the absolute worst—no one wished to go there. It was exile.
Newly assigned bureaucrats there often resigned or, in extreme cases, took their own lives.
It was a pit where those cast out by the house swallowed their resentment over demotion.
But Federback was resolute.
"I wish to serve there."
"Are you serious? Why on earth?"
"Beyond mere service, I want to take full authority and responsibility for that place."
"There are no 'rights' there. Only painful duties."
At Soleil's words, Federback rarely smiled.
"That's precisely the pain and duty I seek."
"......"
Soleil sat stunned for a moment before nodding.
"Fine. You must have your reasons."
"Then, your seal here......"
As if waiting, Federback proffered a document.
Soleil pondered longer, then nodded.
Thud!
The Patriarch's seal was stamped.
The endless abyss that had swallowed criminals for decades.
Federback headed straight to the underground prison Narak.
The entrance to Narak led to stairs stretching several kilometers.
Step— step— step— step—
The spiral stairs wound through vast underground caverns, extending deep like an anthill.
Passing an underground hangar stacked with supplies, he descended another hundred meters, where guards saluted him.
"Loyalty. No anomalies on duty."
"I'm going to the bottom."
"Opening the gate."
The guards opened the heavy iron door.
Cold air and damp earth scent wafted from within.
Beneath Meursault territory's bedrock lay numerous massive caverns.
Some were vast enough to build a city.
"......"
Federback eyed the walls and stalactites connected to the stairs.
The bluish rock glowed faintly, appearing incredibly sturdy.
Groooan—
Even pressing with mana-infused fingers yielded no give.
The bedrock here consisted of a mineral layer rich in demon ore, making it exceptionally tough.
Step— step— step— step—
Federback proceeded.
The stairs continued downward endlessly.
Spiraling in vertical shafts, zigzagging in horizontal ones, seemingly without end.
Federback descended about 2 kilometers in depth.
With bridges and pulley elevators in between, the actual distance covered was around 13 kilometers.
Finally, he reached the last step.
Ahead stood rows of red signs reading 'Authorized Personnel Only.'
Beyond them loomed a massive iron door over 15 centimeters thick.
"Attention! We greet the Warden!"
The guards saluted Federback.
Unlike those on the surface, these soldiers looked gaunt and haggard.
The guards strained to push open the iron door.
Rumble...... rumble...... rumble......
The door had a triple structure, with mana detectors at intervals.
Security was formidable.
Step— step— step— step—
Federback entered.
A foul stench like a freshly dug grave.
Rusted iron bars lined both sides endlessly.
Pale hands protruded from between them, waving like seaweed.
"Let me out......"
"I'll tell you everything, please!"
"Please, get me out of here......"
"Just kill me! Kill me, I said! Aaaagh!"
"Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee—"
Narak's residents welcomed Federback.