Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Unconscious Flag Insertion
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A few days before Gold's proposal.
Right after the Prostia incident wrapped up, I'd returned to Milf Village.
The arrests of the bandit recruits and giving statements about Sor-related matters—tedious chores like that all proceeded smoothly thanks to the influence of the Ten Great Clans.
All the bandits present there were, of course, taken into custody.
The bandit leader Jagg had recovered enough to wake up by then, but he showed no defiance.
He let them bind him without a fuss and drag him away, but as he passed by me, he stopped dead in his tracks and grinned.
"To think I fought a warrior who rivals that sacred and holy lifeform. It was an honor."
He gazed at Prostia with an expression of awe, then bowed deeply to me as if paying formal respects.
Impressive mental fortitude, considering his body had been sliced apart and must still be in agony.
Even missing one arm, the rest of him looked in surprisingly good shape.
Magic really is something else.
Or wait, was it holy power?
To me, they felt about the same.
"Well then."
His path ahead would be rough, but he seemed satisfied with our fight.
I'd braced for a barrage of curses, so his cool acceptance caught me off guard.
That said, there was one little hiccup before they hauled him off.
It involved Sor.
Right after Jagg bid me farewell, Sor was nearby, sniffling and sobbing as the knights led her away.
"Warrior, mind letting me have a word with that woman?"
I had no authority to grant or deny anything, but...
The knight dragging Jagg glanced at me as if asking what to do.
I was a bit flustered but kept my cool and replied.
"Sure."
I'd worried I might have misread the situation, but fortunately, the knight released Jagg as I said.
Now briefly free, he walked toward Sor.
Thud. Thud.
Jagg had a menacing face and a build like a mountain, exuding intimidation even standing still.
His footsteps alone sounded ominous, and when he stood nearby, Sor flinched in shock, wondering what was happening.
"Sor."
"Eek, ugh...! J-J-Jagg!"
Jagg was frowning for some reason. He explained it himself.
"What's with that feeble attitude?"
His voice dripped with disappointment.
Maybe it felt unfamiliar seeing her weak side for the first time.
Or more likely, repulsive.
I could easily imagine how much havoc she'd wreaked while riding on Prostia's back, lording over everyone.
Seeing that arrogant woman reduced to such pathetic frailty now that her power was gone probably felt less satisfying and more unsettling.
"I at least thought you were a strong woman, but in the end, it was just bravado hiding in the shadow of a godlike being?"
"J-Jagg! Testify for me!"
Ignoring his words, Sor blurted out something idiotic.
No, seriously, I couldn't follow her logic. What the hell?
"Testify?"
"Tell them it was all your orders! I-I didn't do anything!"
"......"
Jagg's face was expressionless, but I could tell.
Whatever lingering fondness he'd had for her was gone—he now utterly despised Sor.
"Just get me through this, and I'll definitely get you out...! For now, protect me!"
"What can you possibly do without the dragon's protection?"
"I have connections from that dragon! Before I even name them, those bastards will have to move!"
Why advertise your backers so openly?
She was already on thin ice for being useless—now she'd probably make anyone want to kill her in frustration.
Did she have confidence, or was she just lost?
From her brainless antics so far, definitely the latter.
"Th-that bas... guy..."
She glanced at me, started to say "bastard," but switched to "guy" when our eyes met.
Physical education really works wonders.
"The knights won't touch me as long as it's not him. Public institution knights are basically forbidden from coercive investigations. Plus, I'm nobility."
"Haven't you fallen from grace?"
Fallen.
Even in her pitiful state, that word flipped a switch—Sor bulged her eyes and screamed.
"Fuck! Just do what I say, you oversized oaf!! You wanna die?!"
If I were Jagg, I'd have slapped her silly, but he responded calmly.
"Answer me, and I'll consider your request."
"What?"
Jagg nodded toward the horde of bandits being led away in chains.
"What about them?"
"Why did you call us here?"
"What?"
"You trusted the dragon. Not us—the dragon."
I didn't want to admit it, but Jagg said we were no better than insects compared to the dragon.
"We were unnecessary. So why bring us to that hideout you'd kept secret from us until now?"
She hadn't even told them about the cave until recently, huh.
The more I learned, the more she sounded like the villain in a horror story...
"What else? Just more numbers couldn't hurt. I wanted to bolster defenses, that's all."
I could tell that was a lie even from here.
"I thought this was the mark of comrades."
Jagg tore open the shoulder of his shirt with a rip. What emerged was some kind of mark.
I thought it might match the one Sor had on her neck, but no—it was different up close.
Less dragon, more like some demon.
"But no. You saw us not as comrades, but as mere tools."
"Bullshit! That was just to boost a sense of belonging!"
I thought she'd been fully broken, but she was only scared of me—still snarling at the others.
But Jagg's next words changed her tune.
"Sacrifices."
Sor flinched hard, trembling.
"Marks to make it easier to draw out even a sliver of that dragon's true body as an offering. Isn't that right?"
"Wh-what are you...?"
Sor was visibly flustered.
I'd assumed she'd just gathered the bandits as extra forces for the fight.
But if she'd really brought them only to sacrifice them or whatever...
Wow. What a bitch.
"You called it proof of membership, but I'd always wondered why it had to resemble a demon..."
Jagg's deep eyes seemed to peer right into her soul.
Sor hemmed and hawed before finally screeching.
"No! Even if it was, it's over now—what do you want me to do about it?!"
Sor couldn't say more.
Jagg had grabbed her cheeks with one hand, sealing her mouth, and growled.
"Hey!"
The knights drew swords and surrounded them, but Jagg ignored it and continued.
"Rest easy. Killing trash like you would only soil my soul."
"Mmph, mmph...!"
Sor trembled helplessly at the savage side of someone she'd thought beneath her, looking utterly pathetic.
Jagg grimaced at the sight.
"So I won't kill you."
"......"
"But I won't help you either."
He released her with a shove, then let the knights take him away without resistance.
The pot calling the kettle black, huh.
In my opinion, Jagg probably never partook in the bandits' filthiest deeds.
He called himself a warrior, after all. Just a gut feeling, but he lacked that repulsive scum vibe.
Still, the bandits had rampaged this long because Jagg led them and provided muscle.
He might see himself as proud, but to me, it was all the same slop.
Even so, he had a manly air about him.
I learned later that, as I'd suspected, he'd only transported goods or fought as ordered—never gotten his hands dirty himself.
And contrary to my guess, he'd mocked himself as a pathetic piece of trash.
At least he had room for improvement.
And Sor had no such room.
Poor Sor.
That idiot probably didn't even notice how murderously the other bandits were glaring at her now that she was cowering before Jagg.
From her position, traveling or imprisoned alongside them, she couldn't grasp how screwed she was.
That was putting it mildly.
Ten Great Clans.
They wouldn't let Sor off easy.
As I'd warned her, death might be the kinder fate.
Bye-bye, Sor.
You were a real piece of work. Hope our paths never cross again.
Sitting on the guild rooftop, gazing down at the town and reminiscing about just two days prior, someone came and stood beside me.
It was Branch Chief Apiz.
"You must be exhausted."
I considered humbly brushing it off with "No, it was nothing," but damn, I really had suffered.
I'd nearly died several times—too aggrieved for false modesty. Better play it safe and positive.
"Thank you."
Apiz nodded at my reply and lowered his gaze.
"In the end, the processing dragged on, so I couldn't help... I was useless."
"There were more people involved than expected—no helping it."
Apiz had been genuinely sorry for not making it to help during the Prostia fight.
His sincerity was enough for me.
"Plus, you saved my daughter. I'll make sure to apologize properly and repay you."
"No need."
He'd insist on something regardless.
I hadn't known him long, but this stoic branch chief was fundamentally a good man.
We silently overlooked the village streets for a moment.
"We still couldn't catch the backer Sor mentioned."
"Huh."
That surprised me.
Not just the guild—families of the victimized women had mobilized like an ant swarm.
The nation couldn't ignore an issue like this.
Moreover, three heirs of Ten Great Clans had been involved and suffered losses.
Even I, who knew little of this world, heard their prestigious names casually while walking the streets.
Yet they hadn't caught the culprit...?
"Whoever it is, they must wield influence comparable to the Ten Great Clans."
Ah.
I'd thought Sor targeted the clans solely because Prostia craved their heirs per some contract.
But what if...
What if someone on par with—or even within—the Ten Great Clans wanted those heirs dead...?
...Pure speculation, of course.
I had no clue if the clans even got along.
"I see."
Either way, this country had its rotten spots.
Someone like Apiz getting demoted to Milf Village suggested it was worse than imagined.
"You were probably wondering, but for Sor, death would be the better end."
"Because she messed with the Ten Great Clans."
"Hart and Blizha clans are milder. Their heirs are reliable, so they mostly leave it to them—won't intervene unless the heirs do. Grice might be different."
Blizha was Clarit's clan, right...?
El's was Grice?
"What about the Grice clan?"
Apiz fell silent briefly, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it. This world had everything.
"Mind if I smoke?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks. You want one?"
"No, I don't smoke."
"Right."
Inhale. Exhale.
A puff of smoke billowed into the sky.
"The current Grice head, Grice the 15th, is a frightening man."
El's dad, so yeah, probably terrifying.
And 15th—quite a legacy.
"He's worlds apart from El. Makes you wonder how someone with such a warm heart like her came from him."
Uh...
Was it okay to trash a Ten Great Clan head like this in front of me?
"Chief."
I called out in concern, but Apiz shook his head.
"No need to watch my mouth. He's magnanimous enough not to mind off-the-record talk."
"......"
"But he's cold-blooded. Ruthless."
If a veteran like Apiz said so, he must be monstrous.
"What he truly cherishes, if anything, is family. Especially his one daughter."
"Uh..."
I wondered what that meant, but he added,
"Like me—a total daughter fool."
So what was I supposed to do with that info?
Cold-blooded and doting dad didn't mesh. Hard to picture Apiz as one either.
"But unlike me, the Grice head... won't let anyone who harmed his daughter—precisely, anyone who caused her damage—go unpunished. Not that he doesn't trust El, but separately, he's furious."
Apiz hesitated a moment before continuing.
"So, best not get too tangled with El. It could be dangerous."
"No worries there."
"No, you seem oblivious on that front, so I do worry."
? What?
After a brief silence, Apiz exhaled smoke and said,
"No one knows what'll become of Sor. But that girl... she should have just lived ordinarily."
Maybe someday the hatred and prejudice inside her would fade, letting her live normally—but that's moot now.
She had no future left.
Silence darkened again.
"Enough gloom. Let's talk something cheerful. Congratulations—you're now officially a high-ranking figure in this nation. An adventurer grade anyone will trust anywhere."
He held something out at the end.
An adventurer ID.
Mine—with my name in silver gilt—for rank 4.
"Really."
"Doesn't hit home yet, but completing this request bumped your adventurer rank to 4. Unprecedented speed. Rank 4 adventurers are treated as premium assets everywhere."
He said if the Ten Great Clans hadn't been there during the Prostia battle, my rank would've gone even higher.
Probably the higher-ups, including clan heads absent from the scene, credited the heirs for averting disaster more than me.
Of course, the clans—Gold and company—had vouched it was all thanks to me.
But those not present naturally weighed the clans' role heavier.
No complaints. I'd think the same—it's reasonable.
And I got proper rewards.
The chief started with "And."
"Adventurer rank is trivial compared to this: instructor credentials at Prynar Academy. Exceptional."
"Is that so."
"Won't feel it now, but you'll see soon. How prestigious that title is."
I hadn't decided to go to the academy yet.
Someday I'd leave this village, but not now.
Prynar sounded impressive, but unseen, it didn't click.
"Bonus, but the Ten Great Clans view you favorably too. So..."
I side-eyed him trailing off—he groaned, unsure how to phrase it, then spoke.
"Until you've built your strength, don't aim too high. Hone your skills and favor until you're indispensable to all—got it?"
"...? Yes. Understood."
No clue what he meant, but Apiz didn't strike me as one for needless worry, so I agreed.
"What about Kiss Merchant Company?"
"Just taken down."
Hearing that hellhole as rotten as Sor was done for, a grin crept onto my face unbidden.
"Ramnet handled most crime syndicate contacts, it seems. The head knew of dirty deals but not their extent. Ignorance isn't an excuse, though."
"......"
"More investigation needed, but the company is finished."
"Got it."
Good riddance.
If Ramnet and Kiss crumbled, Nila could be free.
And those bastards framing me? Served them right.
Personally, I'd love if those girls labeling me a loner rapist got utterly destroyed too.
Their crimes were grave—they'd get what's coming.
Heard a bunch got booted from their clan already.
Exiled and jailed—their futures? My condolences.
As I gazed at the streets again, Apiz spoke.
"Why linger on the roof for hours? Don't tell me you've grown attached to this village?"
Like I was admiring the scenery out of fondness?
I stared, thinking Are you sane? He apologized.
"Yeah, unlikely. Sorry."
"No problem."
Starting village.
"Starting" sounded special, but hardly any good memories here.
...Except losing my virginity monumentally.
"Just thinking about something."
"Fair enough. Anyway, tomorrow's statements and greetings will get hectic—rest up."
Watching the chief leave, a sudden question popped up.
"One thing I can ask?"
"What?"
I asked the coolly responding man,
"Why switch between formal and casual speech?"
Apiz's eyes widened slightly in surprise at my question, then he chuckled.
First time seeing that dad laugh.
"Secret."
And the real-deal Apiz branch chief left.
What the. I'd wondered if he had split personality or something—nope.
Alone again.
Gazed at the streets. Bored.
Fuck it. Maybe head down.
My reason for sticking here was simple.
Waiting for rewards.
Or...
Prostia was supposed to be insanely strong, right? She was.
One of the Eight Great Demon Kings? Final boss level in some series, yeah?
So why no rewards?
Driving me nuts. Gimme my loot already.
If there'd been even a scrap, I'd shrug it off, but nothing screamed system glitch.
Wondered if people around blocked it—tried zoning out alone, but still quiet.
As Apiz said, hours passed with no sign.
Screw it.
Head down, eat, drink. Battle fatigue hadn't fully—
Tsssssh
Something from above, below, all sides—devouring me forcibly.
Tried resisting with power, but a massive wave of light had already swallowed me.
Then I realized.
This wasn't meant to harm me.
"...!"
Came to in a bizarre space.
Around a dozen beings encircled me, looking down.
I had a hunch.
This presence matched that goddess bitch.
They were probably gods.
"You all...?"
"Quiet."
A neutral-looking figure at the center cut me off.
"Time to start the merit awards."