Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 82
Chapter Title: Twisted Incident
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The hostile atmosphere eased only after the priest barely managed to soothe Darius's temper.
In truth, Darius had been looking for a natural moment to calm down anyway.
In any case.
"Truly impressive."
The priest stuck out his tongue as he watched Darius and the Northsweden garrison troops.
After his defeat at the hands of Pindenai and the Scrap Merchants, Darius had shoved all family affairs onto Deia and devoted himself entirely to training.
Perhaps because he had shed the heavy burden of being the family head, even though not much time had passed.
The skills of the soldiers training alongside him had exploded in growth.
"Those ones...."
The priest subtly pointed toward the ragged group giggling to themselves in the corner.
Darius felt a bead of cold sweat trickle down the back of his neck, but he replied nonchalantly as if it were nothing.
"Slaves who came over from the Clock Republic."
"Ba-barbaric foreigners, you mean?!"
The priest whipped his head around to stare at Darius. Instead, Darius looked down at the priest, responding as if to ask what the problem was.
"Slave foreigners know how to handle guns. Occasionally, some bring them from among their own kind, so we pick them up and train them."
"I-I see."
It was an action that would draw harsh criticism if known, but perhaps because of Darius's confident demeanor.
The priest could say nothing and had no choice but to accept it.
"They've become quite important assets to us now."
Darius spoke with satisfaction, gazing at the Scrap Merchants. Among the reasons the Northsweden garrison had grown this strong, the Scrap Merchants were by far the biggest.
Having rivals to compete and spar against had greatly motivated their growth.
"So, what do you want from me?"
Watching the soldiers train with his hands behind his back, Darius casually asked the priest.
The priest clasped his hands together as if he had been waiting.
"It seems the Necromancer is feeling considerable fatigue while staying in the kingdom."
"Hah, no kidding. That bastard can't do anything right."
Seeing Darius click his tongue, the priest smiled even more warmly.
"Moreover, there are those targeting the Necromancer's life."
"......"
This time, even Darius clamped his mouth shut and glared at the priest. What would the giant of the north say?
The priest's expression quickly hardened as he swallowed hard.
"We can't just let the one who disgraced the family die like a dog anywhere. His death doesn't even belong to him."
The stiff-necked giant immediately grasped the priest's meaning and pierced straight to the heart.
It was just a roundabout way of saying they were after his life.
Darius irritably replied.
"Speak plainly. Dayus is a thorn in your side, you want him dead, and you need my help. That's it, right? He's holed up safe in the palace now."
"Ah, um. Well...."
"What? Afraid the god you serve is watching?"
Darius sneered in disbelief, crossing his arms with a tsk.
"I'll send a letter telling Dayus to return to Northsweden. He won't easily ignore an order from me, the family head."
"......!"
"I want him dead, but not shrieking his last in some place I don't know about."
His thick fist clenched, stained with hatred and disgust.
"Prepare so that when the carriage arrives in Northsweden, we can hold the funeral right away."
The priest bowed deeply, understanding this meant Darius would create the opportunity, so handle it themselves.
"We will send wreaths and followers to mourn his passing together. The gods will surely watch over him."
"Tch, spare me the nonsense."
The priest's lips curled up slightly. Darius's hatred toward the Necromancer was immense.
The possibility he was lying?
Frankly, the priest was certain it was extremely low, if not zero.
'What kind of mad family head would like a guy doing drugs in the territory and whoring around brothels!'
Before visiting Darius, the priest had toured Northsweden city gathering information on Necromancer Dayus.
Trash.
Womanizer.
Drug addict, and so on.
A madman who had lived a life worse than any delinquent.
The priest was dumbfounded seeing resume after resume that would have gotten him kicked out of any other family long ago.
Now, the priest decided not to believe the god had chosen him. He was convinced some other method had been used to obtain holy power.
But public opinion was already tilting toward him as the saint chosen by the god.
A little more time, and they would fully accept the Necromancer.
'If he couldn't wield holy power, we wouldn't have bothered killing him.'
Holy power held an absolute, unchangeable position wielded only by saintesses.
Those who wielded it had to always remain pure.
But if they spread word of Dayus's behaviors?
It would harm Dayus, but it would also shatter the absoluteness of holy power.
The church would end up denying holy power with their own hands.
Dayus's ugly past was something the church side had to actively cover up.
But could they hide it forever?
Could they just sit idly by as doubts about holy power sprouted because of Dayus?
In the end, they had only one option.
Assassinate Dayus.
If not now, he would become an ancient tree standing equal to the saintess.
Even if suspected as the culprits and taking losses, Dayus had to be uprooted now.
Once the target was dead, they could spin any story.
Of course, there were those siding with Dayus, advocating acceptance, led by the saintess. They were called moderates.
'That's nonsense.'
A black mage comforting souls?
Don't talk shit.
'Do you think we'll dance in the palm of your evil hand?'
This was a trial.
A trial from the god to uncover truth and exorcise demons.
"O God."
The priest closed his eyes and merely murmured the god's name.
"......"
Darius, arms crossed, glared at him with narrowed eyes.
* * *
The luxurious office provided by the royals for me, the Necromancer, while staying in Graypond.
I had said there was no need for an office since I'd return to Robern Academy once things settled, but.
King Orpheus insisted it was important to prepare such a space in advance and gave me this opulent room anyway.
Three people had visited this office.
Saintess Lucia Saint.
My sister Deia Verdi.
And finally, the maid Pindenai.
Lucia and Pindenai sat on the sofa in the room, listening attentively to my story.
Deia was relaying to me what she had heard from Darius via communication yesterday.
"So, a letter from Darius will arrive soon. Telling you to prepare to depart."
The bishops' plan to assassinate me. We planned to turn it around and catch those trying to assassinate me.
"Take this carriage and return to Northsweden."
"......I'm from Graypond, though."
Deia brazenly crossed her arms and turned her head away. She seemed quite fond of Graypond.
"After this incident, you'll completely fall out with the bishops. Of course, with me here, they won't cause direct harm, but there will be inconveniences."
"......"
"There'll be pressure to enter Northsweden too. Darius can't handle it alone without you."
"Haa, so vacation's over."
Deia slumped her shoulders regretfully. I added unnecessarily while looking at her.
"Northsweden's tough woman suits you better than Graypond's sheltered lady."
"......Hearing that from you doesn't make me happy?"
Even as she said it, Deia spun around and left.
"Pack souvenirs or something since I'm heading back to Northsweden."
Watching Deia's retreating figure, I couldn't help shaking my head. Her tsundere attitude really felt like dealing with a little sister.
"I see."
Pindenai, leaning back on the sofa alone and staring at the ceiling, nodded in understanding.
It was such an out-of-left-field comment, I wondered what garbage she'd spew next, but I wasn't curious.
"So you liked me, surviving in that barbaric Clock Republic and crude place?"
"Pindenai, that's a illness at that point."
"You're hopeless with jokes, master. It's a black joke."
*Ahem.*
Seeing our conversation dragging on, Lucia cleared her throat and interjected.
Her face was filled with worry.
"I pray it's not connected to many factions."
We didn't know how many hardliners were attempting to assassinate me.
"The opposite for me."
I calmly opened the book beside me and replied.
"I hope as many of god's agents as possible are after my neck."
* * *
One week later.
A plain carriage without any crests exiting Graypond's main gate.
Necromancer Dayus, receiving Border Count Darius's letter, heads to Northsweden under the family head's unavoidable command.
To move as secretly as possible, it was an ordinary carriage no different from others, and he boarded outside the palace with his face covered.
Thanks to that, the cheap carriage jolted harshly, making Deia's butt sore.
"Ow."
Still, she kept her mana rifle at her waist ready to draw at any moment.
The moment Graypond vanished beyond the horizon from the carriage window.
Neigh!
As a group of ruffians appeared before the carriage and the coachman yanked the reins, the carriage came to an urgent stop.
Assassins in masks blocking the carriage's path. Each held a dagger with a cross emblem and made the sign of the cross.
"Evil black mage Dayus Verdi, come face divine punishment."
The assassins strode forward. Believing truly they were doing righteous work, they didn't seem inclined to hide their church affiliation.
Or perhaps they planned to kill all witnesses.
Creak.
The carriage door opened, and Deia stepped out.
"Church assassins?"
Mindful of Pindenai, more assassins kept emerging from the nearby trees.
They seemed to judge this number could tie down Pindenai, if not kill her, and assassinate Dayus.
"Sister of the evil black mage. It was a plot to destroy Griffin Kingdom, but today, god's stern judgment has arrived."
The assassins advanced steadily.
The carriage was fully surrounded, their daggers gleaming coldly, and mana fluctuated briefly, indicating a mage among them.
"Haaam."
A male yawn deflated the taut tension, coming from inside the carriage.
A man with his hood pulled low over his face swept his gaze over the assassins and replied.
"A plot to destroy Griffin Kingdom, huh. That's quite intriguing."
"Huh?"
One assassin gasped involuntarily, recognizing the familiar voice.
They assumed it was Dayus Verdi, but up close, the build was better.
"But you know."
Whoosh.
The man shed his robe, revealing brilliant golden hair.
The hands of the assassins, who had come under the grand cause of slaying a black mage per god's will, went slack, their daggers slowly lowering.
"From my view, you lot trying to assassinate me, the king of Griffin, are far more wicked?"
Master of the Griffin nest.
The wise young king currently building absolute royal authority through alliance with Dayus Verdi.
King Orpheus grinned as he looked them over one by one.
"Ah."
The assassins finally realized something was wrong.
They were not executors of god's judgment now.
In an instant, they had become traitors attempting to assassinate a nation's king.
Orpheus grinned and said.
"Kneel now, and I might show a shred of mercy."
At the overbearing attitude, the assassins began eyeing each other.
They were not professional assassins hired for pay.
Just martyrs who rose with swords for faith in god.
Assassinate King Orpheus instead of Necromancer Dayus?
Even the church leaders couldn't handle that fallout.
They had never intended such a thing to begin with.
"N-No, we absolutely had no such intent!"
As one knelt, the others followed suit, lining up to prostrate before the king.
Watching them, King Orpheus smiled in satisfaction.
"I well understand your loyalty. I suspected those who sent you were the rude ones still holding noble assemblies."
"......Pardon?"
Noble assembly?
What was that supposed to mean?
The assassins wore expressions of utter confusion.
"They must be the wicked ones brazenly challenging royal authority, fattening their territories and exploiting gains among themselves."
A gentle smile played on Orpheus's lips.
Watching the assassins prostrate felt like admiring an artwork created by Dayus Verdi.
Unfortunately.
Their martyrdom for god would lose its name and fade, twisted thoroughly into political fodder.
Dayus had no intention of letting this incident end as a mere Necromancer assassination.
The assassination was just a stepping stone, aimed at greedy nobles and high officials secretly negotiating with foreign powers.
The sly fury of the victimized King Orpheus would spread to nobles across the continent, putting them on edge.
"No need to explain. I know all."
Toward the worms gnawing at the kingdom, the moment had arrived to unleash the king's iron fist laced with false rage.