Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Triumphant Return
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“*Ahem.*”
The underground chapel in Graypond.
The Griffin Kingdom had waged so many wars of invasion that this space had been built as a sort of underground shelter in preparation for the possibility of being invaded in turn. But now, it served only as a secret meeting place for high-ranking bishops.
“Lord God.”
“God Bellas, please do not abandon us.”
“Blessings upon Griffin.”
The bishops were all anxiously awaiting the results of Necromancer Dayus Verdi’s assassination attempt.
Of course, they weren’t mere bishops for nothing—they had their hands clasped together, eyes closed in prayer. But in truth, their lips merely moved out of habit, unable to hide their impatience.
Kneeling and rocking back and forth as they prayed to their gods, their fervor bordered on fanaticism, for better or worse.
Would a god equate the sweat shed from labor with the sweat they now dripped?
The odd question arose in that moment.
*Thud. Thud.*
At that instant, heavy footsteps echoed. A brief commotion erupted outside before quickly falling silent.
“……”
No one said a word, yet they all shut their mouths in unison. With the prayers silenced, the clacking of boots rang out even louder.
Had the assassination succeeded or failed?
If it failed, there was no guarantee another chance to assassinate Dayus Verdi would come.
Even Darius, their collaborator, would no longer trust them.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Convinced they couldn’t let it slip, the bishops clasped their hands desperately, eyes fixed on the entrance.
The owner of the footsteps had already reached the door.
*Creaaaaak.*
The door swung open with a rusty screech like a woman’s scream.
“D-De-De……!”
One bishop barely managed to stammer the words. The rest trembled, lips quivering, on the verge of losing consciousness.
Standing at the entrance was no messenger bearing urgent news of the assassination.
It was the assassination target himself: the Necromancer, Dayus Verdi.
“H-How……?”
Staring at the hollow-voiced bishop, Dayus answered flatly.
“It’s like a turtle thinking it’s hidden just because it’s retreated into its shell. I knew you were gathered here long ago.”
They had thought he was riding a carriage to Northsweden, yet here he stood.
The assassination wasn’t just a failure—it was a catastrophic one.
Now even the bishops’ involvement was exposed.
“There are the most Bellas bishops here. Hertia Goddess, Yustia, Raizer, Robelisk. Quite the gathering.”
A congregation of faiths.
Of course, not every bishop of those gods had joined in. For instance, most Hertia Goddess bishops had aligned favorably toward Dayus.
But.
“Considering your positions as bishops, it won’t end with just your heads rolling.”
At my words, some clutched their chests guiltily, others groaned and bowed their heads dejectedly.
These were people who held high seats within their sects.
The mere fact that they, empowered by divine authority and recognized by the royals, had plotted to assassinate a royal-sanctioned Necromancer was a massive disgrace to their sects—one that warranted royal intervention without rebuttal.
If they had plotted to assassinate the Necromancer, that is.
Unfortunately, the incident had already crossed too many lines to end so simply.
And Dayus had no intention of letting it.
“What you should be worrying about now isn’t how to beg for my mercy or make excuses.”
“……?”
Dayus extended his hand toward the bishops, renowned for their wisdom.
“I’m here right now. So who was it riding the carriage you sent the assassins after?”
“……”
A chill ran down the bishops’ spines. My single question made them realize just how badly things had spiraled.
“A… fake?”
One bishop’s eyes widened in sudden realization.
For Dayus to say this much, it wasn’t some ordinary decoy.
Their minds raced to the conclusion that it must be someone with even greater influence than the Necromancer himself.
At that moment.
The entire underground chapel began to rumble. It felt like an earthquake at first, but the footsteps reverberating like thunder filled the bishops with unparalleled terror.
“Ah.”
“Lord Bellas…….”
“Guhhh!”
Some sighed in despair.
Some called out to their god.
Some foamed at the mouth and fainted.
Crimson armor gleaming with an almost excessive luster—not quite blood-red.
The swords safeguarding the royals, one of Griffin’s top forces alongside the Magic Inquisitors.
The Royal Knight Order.
And at their forefront, a woman with red hair—the one directing them all—Gloria drew her sword and declared.
“You are under arrest as suspects in the assassination attempt on Prince Orpheus.”
At those words, the bishops turned to Dayus with expressions of disbelief.
Dayus looked at them—on the verge of tears in their despair—and said without changing expression.
“Save your cries to the gods for later. You’ll have plenty of time to wail in prison.”
* * *
“Haa.”
“Your sighs have increased.”
During my regular meeting with Lucia. Watching the Saintess sigh as she visited my office, I felt oddly irritated.
“What can I do? All the churches in Griffin are in mourning right now.”
A sea of tears, with prayers of atonement to the gods or fingers pointed at the bishops behind the assassination plot.
But King Orpheus had seized on circumstantial evidence suggesting this wasn’t just the bishops’ doing—there were backers involved—and naturally extended his reach toward the nobles.
Whether that evidence truly existed didn’t matter.
Even if there wasn’t any, he planned to fabricate it. With ledgers of bribes from nobles everywhere, it was easy to tie them in.
From now on, Graypond and the royals would be busy purging corrupt nobles and checking the growing power of noble houses threatening royal authority.
Knowing this, Lucia couldn’t help but sigh.
“What will you do now? The religions and nobles are weakened, and royal authority is stronger than ever. His Majesty’s rage over the assassination attempt is entirely justified—it could lash out anywhere.”
“No need to worry about that.”
If it had been a genuine assassination attempt, Orpheus couldn’t have remained so composed.
He might have been frenziedly hunting rebels right away.
But since this was a trap I had meticulously set, his molten-lava-hot fury was wielded with icy mountaintop calm.
He wouldn’t swing it recklessly.
“By the way, where’s Pindenai?”
Lucia glanced around casually.
Deia had already left for Northsweden, and without the noisy maid always at my side, it felt emptier still.
*Bang!*
Speak of the devil—Pindenai kicked the door open.
In both hands, she gripped massive bags equipped with wheels like suitcases, ready to drag them along.
“Master, I packed all the luggage.”
“Luggage? Where are you going?”
Lucia blinked between Pindenai and me in confusion. I set aside my book and replied.
“I’m heading back to Robern Academy.”
Arriving now, I’d make it just as the first semester ended. I could at least show my face briefly.
“Did I hear that right?”
Lucia tapped her ears a few times before asking me again.
“Wh-where are you going?”
“Don’t ask again when you already know.”
When I told her not to bother confirming, Lucia burst out angrily.
“No way! You stirred up all this chaos in Graypond and now the mastermind slips away?! Does that make any sense?!”
She rushed over desperately, slamming the desk. Her wide eyes revealed her emotions plainly.
“Do you know how many nobles are approaching me for negotiations? They’ll donate whatever I want if I just rein in His Majesty!”
“……”
“Even nobles from firmly established houses come bearing sacks of gold! That’s how far His Majesty’s wrath is spreading!”
“……”
“In this situation, if you show yourself as the one holding His Majesty’s reins, you could solidify your position completely.”
I was honestly a bit surprised.
I knew she wasn’t just some prayerful woman, but I hadn’t expected her to grasp the situation so coldly and pinpoint where the gains lay.
It only made me trust her more, so I stepped to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Good to know you understand. No need for me to explain, then.”
I’d planned to outline my future moves to her, but it seemed unnecessary. She already knew.
“So talk nicely with His Majesty, rack up debts from the nobles, and become a hero who saved the religious order in the eyes of the remaining bishops and citizens. It’ll help you greatly moving forward.”
“……Me? Shouldn’t you be doing that?”
At her words, I shook my head with a hollow laugh.
“I’m the Necromancer prepared for the Lion. That role doesn’t suit me.”
“Ah…….”
“After Robern Academy’s first semester ends and break begins, I’ll tour the kingdom purging evil spirits. You’ll probably see me around then.”
“I suppose so.”
Lucia gazed at me wistfully. I’d already spoken with King Orpheus and Archmage Rockpellican.
The political maneuvering would continue, but the royals held the victim card.
They’d effectively won half the battle already—no major issues.
What followed was for the politicians. No need for me to meddle.
“See you later, then.”
“Yawn. Guess I’ll sleep on the carriage ride.”
Pindenai and I bid farewell to the dazed Lucia and left the palace.
Days later, we arrived at Robern Academy.
I hadn’t announced my return, so I didn’t expect a welcoming party.
I figured I’d slip in quietly and kill time in the lab Professor Per Petra had prepared.
“……”
Unexpectedly, someone was waiting for me at the academy entrance.
Red hair tinged slightly darker than Captain Gloria’s.
A lean build with subtle, toned muscles clinging to her frame, paired with striking looks.
“N-N-Necromancer…… sir.”
Gideon Zeronia—the one who had targeted Erika Bright—trembled with rage as he bowed to me.
“Please spare our family just once.”
The Zeronia family: the royal family’s largest and most prestigious house.
Naturally, the bigger they were, the more targets they presented.
It seemed His Majesty’s fury had reached the Zeronias.