Chapter 239
Chapter 239
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 239
Chapter Title: Nero's Warning
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Verita woke up a full thirty minutes later.
“Ugh…….”
Verita came to with eyes spinning like mad, blankly scanning her surroundings before spotting me and flinching hard.
I’d been worried that her sudden faint might mean some confusion in her memories or something...
But from her expression, that didn’t seem to be the case.
“Ah.”
“You okay?”
“Ughhh.”
“Calm down first. Just calm—”
“Uwaaaaaah—.”
I flicked her forehead hard as she spotted my wound and started freaking out again.
*Snap!*
“Kyak.”
Verita clutched her forehead and stared at me. The pain seemed to snap her back to her senses a bit, but her eyes were still darting wildly.
I lowered my voice.
“Calm. Down.”
“Yes, sir…….”
Verita’s shoulders slumped as she eyed me cautiously.
Truth be told, seeing her like this threw me off too.
I mean, if the two of us here went at it for real, life or death... nine times out of ten, she’d crush me.
It stung my pride and burned my gut, but that was the truth.
And yet, here she was, watching my mood.
At the very least, it meant there was no lie in her vow to serve me as High Priest.
“Um......”
“Yeah?”
“Why’d you suddenly do that......?”
Verita asked carefully.
“......”
She’d just woken up from passing out and was still sitting flat on the bare floor.
I walked over to the opposite side and plopped down.
“Why’d you suddenly pass out?”
“Huh?”
“You foamed at the mouth and keeled over like you’d seen something you shouldn’t have.”
“Oh. That was......”
Her thought processes didn’t seem fully back online yet; she chewed her lip, as if sorting out the words before letting them out.
Before she could, I beat her to it.
“Want me to tell you? You couldn’t handle seeing the one you’re supposed to protect hurt himself, so your brain overheated. Right?”
“......”
Verita nodded slightly.
I snorted.
That was my answer. The contradiction to counter her contradiction, just like Senior Brother Arang had taught me.
“See?”
I showed her the wound again.
The bleeding had already stopped, and a scab had formed—thanks, of course, to the properties of the Flame Arts of the Greatest.
It had gone clean through, but missed all major blood vessels and bones, so it’d probably be good as new by tomorrow or the day after.
“You said you’d kill anyone who hurt me, right? Even a graze was unforgivable, and you proved it by acting on it yourself.”
*Shing.*
She flinched at the sound of the Yin-Yang Dao being drawn.
She was the type who could pluck out her own eyeball without batting an eye, but right now, she looked straight-up terrified.
“P-Please stop!”
“Oh? Giving orders now?”
“N-No, not......”
“Yeah? Well, here’s your answer. No.”
This time, I gripped the Yin-Yang Dao in my left hand and stabbed it into the back of my right.
*Stab!*
Verita screamed again.
I drove the blade deeper, studying her wildly contorting face.
The sensation of cold metal piercing through my palm wasn’t pleasant, naturally.
The blade through my hand felt like a red-hot poker one moment, a razor-sharp icicle the next.
Meaning the pain blurred hot from cold.
I stared her down in that state.
Her painted eyes churned like an earthquake, but she didn’t look like she’d pass out again.
“What’re you gonna do if I keep self-harming? Kill me?”
“...No.”
“How about tying me up by force then? Bind me so tight I can’t twitch a finger, lock me in some basement. Feed me at mealtimes, nothing more.”
“How could I ever......”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t. Whatever you want from me, you won’t get it by caging me like a bird.”
“......”
Verita shut her mouth, face pale.
Her trembling gaze stayed fixed on my pierced hand, fingertips twitching unsteadily.
“Got it now? From here on, even if I get hurt fighting, you stay put.”
“W-Wait... how’d the conversation jump there?”
“You’re really dense. That’s why they say pink hair means high chance of being dumb.”
No such saying existed, of course.
Just me talking shit because I personally hated the color.
I explained to the still-dazed Verita.
“Think about it. Who chose to draw that sword and pierce my own palm just now?”
“You... High Priest, obviously.”
“Right. My choice. I thought it through myself, wielded the blade, hurt myself. In that case, you don’t attack anyone. You can’t. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Now reverse it. The upcoming third promotion match—who decided I’d enter?”
“That was your decision too, High Priest.”
I nodded emphatically.
“Exactly. See?”
“...If I may, my comprehension is lacking. I have no idea what you’re getting at.”
“You’re frustrating. All of this is my choice, my decision. Entering the third exam to snag a B-rank spot? Getting hurt in the process? All results of my choices—so in the big picture, it’s no different from me stabbing my own hand.”
“......”
I pulled the blade out around then and looked at her. Naturally, she looked half-lost to my nonsense, still tilting her head in that state.
“No... but that’s a different case......?”
“Not different. Not at all. Identical.”
The key to a con was shamelessness and momentum.
I wrapped both in my expression and voice, brimming with confidence.
“Mm......”
Verita groaned, then squeezed out a response.
“I think I vaguely get what you mean... but High Priest, by that logic, my reason for being fades away.”
“Not necessarily.”
“Huh?”
“My path ahead won’t be smooth. I’ll face countless crises I can’t even imagine. When you help me then, will I snap at you or get mad like now? Hell no—I’d bow my head in thanks.”
“Mm......”
She glanced at my wound again, approached, then...
Gripped the cross necklace at her throat and murmured low.
“...Lord Baal.”
*Humm—.*
A faint light rippled, and the wounds on both my hands healed clean.
“Still amazing every time. A cultist wielding divine power at this level.”
“Nothing strange about it. The gods of the 72 cults are fundamentally the same as the Arbiter, after all.”
“Hm.”
I clenched and unclenched my hand, asking,
“The Arbiter you mean is the Colorless Demon King, right?”
“That’s what they call him in the world.”
“One more thing I’m curious about. You called Leone ‘Princess,’ right? Not the imperial princess—what’s that mean?”
I watched her face closely, driving the point home.
“Any connection to the fallen kingdom of Setitus?”
“.......”
Verita’s expression stayed serene.
Looking at that face, I figured it’d take something major to crack her composure.
That said, I couldn’t go self-harming every time we talked like this...
“As you say. We are all descendants of Setitus.”
“We?”
“The followers of the Colorless.”
Verita said.
“That’s why we don’t recognize the current Black Pope. The only true heir to the papal throne is Her Highness, the one and only. Likewise, you, as the sole Apostle of the Colorless, must lead us.”
“No. Hold on, hold on.”
I cut her off in a fluster.
“Something’s off. Wasn’t it the Colorless Demon King who destroyed Setitus? And you follow that being?”
“My apologies, but that’s beyond an mere guardian like me. Though if I may say one thing—the Arbiter carrying out judgment is hardly unusual.”
“......”
I stroked my chin, thinking.
Somehow, in this unexpected spot, I felt like I’d grasped the thread of the unease I’d sensed all along.
The reason Senior Brother had no choice but to destroy a nation. The reason for the massacre—they, the Colorless followers, knew it exactly.
‘Then......’
Better to keep Verita close for now.
If not her, then at least another follower.
The Colorless followers were a direct link to Senior Brother’s secret.
“Oh. One more. If I ordered you right here to get lost and stay out of my sight—what happens?”
I asked, thinking another follower might be less intense than her.
“I’d obey, of course.”
As expected, but what I really wanted was what came after.
“And the fact you made contact with me—other followers know?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Ten, including me.”
“Ten.”
Fewer than I thought.
Catching my thought, Verita smiled.
“Our numbers aren’t that great. Compared to the Dark Cult’s other factions, we’re a mere handful. Of course, we have informants, organizations, and forces spread across the continent—but only a tiny fraction know our true identity.”
“Strange setup.”
“Yes. But no need to worry. Even knowing our true identity, they’ll pledge loyalty gladly. Not from coercion, but genuine devotion.”
“.......”
“Also, High Priest, you needn’t fear my departure.”
“Fear what?”
Verita smiled again.
“If I vanish or can no longer serve as guard... another follower will join swiftly.”
“Another follower?”
“Yes. They’ll serve you as much as I—or more.”
“.......”
Fanatics more devoted than Verita?
‘Damn.’
A chill ran down my spine.
Felt like one more reason to keep her by my side.
* * *
After that, I asked a few more questions, but the info was severely limited.
On the Colorless Demon King, Leone, Setitus, or the cult—Verita gave the same response every time.
“My deepest apologies, but we’ll tell you everything once you come ‘home’ with us someday.”
Home.
Probably their Colorless faction’s base.
Obviously, no way in hell I was going in my right mind. I still didn’t fully trust her.
And back at Heros HQ’s main gate.
That’s where I had my final talk with Verita.
“Got it? From now on, even if someone hurts me or picks a fight, hold back unless it’s extreme.”
“Understood. But what if they cross the line?”
“Hm?”
“Like if someone dares try to kill you......”
“Then smash their head or whatever.”
I wasn’t saintly enough to spare someone gunning for my life, so that’s how I put it.
Still, I added to hold off on killing if possible.
Verita didn’t fully agree to that one, replying, “I’ll do my utmost.”
‘At least one weight off my shoulders.’
I’d finally pinned a minimal safety catch on this walking bomb. Mission accomplished.
Anyway, after returning to Heros, I headed straight to my assigned room...
Someone stood in front of the door.
“Huh.”
Familiar face.
He noticed me too, turning a cold gaze my way.
“You’re late. I’ve waited an hour.”
So brazen, I wondered if I’d forgotten some appointment.
Of course not.
I pondered a greeting, then winged it.
“Long time no see, sis.”
“......”
She was family, kin, so that’s what I went with.
Of course, how long it’d been since I called Nero Bednicker—the Iron-Blooded Duke’s second daughter and Bednicker blood—‘sis,’ I couldn’t say.
Nero seemed stronger than last I saw.
Taller too, and her hair and eyes felt darker—maybe just my imagination?
Her signature gloomy aura suited her perfectly, like a female Iron-Blooded Duke, a little Iron-Blooded Duke.
Atmosphere-wise, she resembled him more than anyone—round ears and pale skin aside, near twin.
Anyway, this wasn’t our first meeting in the city.
When I first came to Tefer, the vigilante hero who’d subdued a pickpocket... that was Nero.
Our eyes met briefly then—I’d wondered, and yep, she recognized me.
Nero said,
“Ruan Bednicker. I heard you entered the promotion exams. Challenging the promotions instead of Origin means you got hero qualifications through the main family’s training hall, right? Am I correct?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Her tone was like an interrogation, but Nero’s speech had always been like that in my memories, so it didn’t bother me.
Always sharp-edged?
Her vibe, her looks—evoked a black rose bristling with thorns.
“I see. Then drop out of this exam. That’s why I came.”
What a curveball from her after so long.
“Why?”
“Heard what the third exam’s like?”
“Yeah. Duel with an A-rank hero, right?”
“Correct. You know your stuff. Off the record, but your opponent’s already set.”
“Who?”
“Hiir Bednicker.”
“......”
Nero stared straight at me.
“He plans to kill you.”
“Huh?”
Before I could parse her true intent, I flinched and glanced aside.
“...Hm?”
Verita’s head tilted about 45 degrees.