Chapter 163: Black
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 163: Black
Akad stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Regent Ferda, did you not say the body was already buried? It should be decomposed by now. Can we truly find any clues in such a state?"
Naturally, I had already prepared for that question.
"While we did bury Young Lord Marcus Yurei’s body, it has been preserved exactly as it was at the moment of his death."
"Why go to the trouble of casting preservation magic on it?"
"No matter how much he insulted my fiancée, he was still the precious scion of a noble house," Ferda replied, his tone suggesting he wasn't so foolish as to overlook such a vital detail.
In truth, if Duke Yurei hadn't been intended as a strategic piece for this very moment, I would have returned the body to his family long ago.
"If you investigate, you will be able to determine the source of the magic... and," Ferda paused for a beat, letting the weight of his words sink in, "through this incident, we will finally discover the true enemy hiding in the shadows."
"What do you mean by the 'true enemy'?"
I threw out the bait.
"The true identity of the entity sowing chaos within the Empire to lead this continent to ruin."
Ferda argued that they shouldn't be fighting among themselves but should instead target the real threat. Surprisingly, the first person to agree with Ferda’s proposal was Erdes.
"That works for me. If we just confirm who killed him, we don't have to do this the hard way, right?"
Her agreement made the conversation flow more easily. Above all, since the matter involved black magic, she couldn't help but be proactive.
"I also agree. If Regent Ferda did not commit the murder and the truth can be uncovered, then the culprit deserves to face the wrath of the great Alte," Joseph Faust added, lending his active support to Ferda’s suggestion.
"Then, as for who should be entrusted with this autopsy..."
As Akad muttered to himself, Ferda answered quickly.
"I would like Bishop Joseph Faust to perform the autopsy."
"What?" Erdes’s brow furrowed. "If it’s about black magic, shouldn't I obviously be the one to handle it?"
The whole world knew how much she loathed black magic. Her skill in the field was as legendary as her hatred for it. Joseph Faust, the one nominated, acknowledged this fact with a nod.
"I also believe that would be for the best... Is there a particular reason you chose me, Regent?"
"It is a matter of transparency. We cannot expect transparency from an investigation led by the President of the Magic Society."
Ferda claimed that because he and Erdes were on bad terms, the results could be biased. This statement pricked Erdes’s pride instantly.
"Are you saying I’d frame you?" she asked, her expression turning grim.
Ferda replied coldly, "If ruining the bond between father and son wasn't enough for you, then by all means, I will leave it to you."
Ferda glared at her. Even if he hated the father who had abandoned him, it wasn't nearly as much as he hated Erdes, the woman who had orchestrated it.
Akad, acting as the neutral chairman, reached a conclusion.
"Since there seems to be a history between you two... this task appears most suitable for Bishop Joseph Faust. Bishop, are you willing?"
"I shall conduct a fair and just investigation according to the Light of Alte."
While Erdes’s hatred for black magic was certainly strong, she was known to be merciless and lacked public favor. Erdes simply stared at Ferda’s face, her expression one of utter dissatisfaction.
The hearing was recessed for two hours for the examination of the body. Joseph moved with his attendants to transport Marcus’s corpse.
"I will accompany them," Count Consilus said, stepping forward. He had to monitor them to ensure there was no outside pressure or tampering with the evidence.
"You may do so," Ferda permitted.
If his predictions were correct, everything would be revealed through this investigation. He would not let his guard down until the very end.
"Hey."
Ferda looked up at the sound of a youthful voice growling at him.
Erdes Roton.
She had climbed onto the desk and was crouching there like a delinquent.
"Do you think I’m a pushover?" Anger burned in her eyes. "Or do you think I can’t touch you because your backing is so strong? Which is it? Huh? Well? Hey, answer me."
"President, you shouldn't act like this here—"
"Scram, you small fry. I’m not in the mood to play with you."
Erdes’s face was flushed with rage from the insults she’d endured. Ferda didn't take his eyes off her.
"I have a valid reason."
"Because you’re afraid I’ll manipulate things to send you to hell? If I wanted to do that, I could have done it whenever I wanted. I wouldn't have even come to a place like this. Do you think I haven't done it because I’m some kind of stupid, pathetic pushover?"
Just as Erdes said, she was capable of ruining Ferda at any time. By exposing him and applying pressure, she could have socially executed him as a black mage long ago.
However, that wasn't the direction Erdes pursued. The reason she hadn't truly touched Ferda yet was that she saw no connection between him and the demons. The hatred dwelling in her heart was prioritized toward demons above all else.
That meant that if she could catch a demon, she was willing to judge Ferda’s case fairly.
"That is exactly why it cannot be you," Ferda said. He hadn't been looking for that kind of fairness in the first place. "If you are there, those rats won't show themselves."
This was bait set out to catch a big fish. Ferda’s eyes spoke for him: I, too, have entities I hate and cannot forgive just as much as you do.
Erdes, who had been glaring at Ferda as if she wanted to kill him, finally spoke.
"Fine." Her grim expression didn't soften, but she climbed down from the desk quietly. "I’ll pray for a result that makes sense."
Because if it doesn't, I won't stay quiet. Her back as she walked away seemed to leave those words hanging in the air.
Ferda also hoped for a good result. He only wondered if their definitions of a ‘good result’ were the same.
* * *
Two hours later, Joseph returned. Count Consilus, who had gone with him, returned as well, but his expression was strange.
Ferda asked him, "How was it?"
"It seems they found something, but I have a bad feeling about this."
Had the fish taken the bait?
Akad declared the session open, and Joseph recited the organized data.
"The autopsy of Young Lord Marcus Yurei’s body is complete. Young Lord Marcus Yurei was murdered, and the means used was indeed black magic."
His face was somber. Ferda felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. It was a feeling from a distant future that shouldn't have come to pass.
"Furthermore, by tracing that magic, we have been able to identify the person who used it..."
It was just like when Ferda had been branded an enemy of the Empire for an absurd reason in his past life.
"That magic was crafted within the castle of the Archduchess of Valdrova, and it is certain that Regent Ferda Valdrova was the one who cast it."
The room was instantly thrown into an uproar.
"So the Regent really did commit the murder?!"
"More than that, if it’s certain the Regent used that magic... doesn't that mean he really is a black mage?!"
"To think he’d kill someone and then stand there so brazenly despite being a black mage!"
The audience was in a state of shock. Duke Yurei’s face turned beet red. He shouted emotionally, "You damn demon! How dare you kill my son!!"
Joining in, Alexander also shouted, "What are the guards doing? Arrest that black mage immediately!"
At the Crown Prince’s cry, the guards hesitated before moving toward Ferda. Unable to watch any longer, Consilus stood up.
"Who dares lay a hand on the Archduchess’s fiancé?!"
He possessed a spirit hard to believe for a man of his age. The situation turned into a complete mess. The tension rose to the point where it felt like a brawl would break out if anyone so much as threw a punch.
Standing at the center of the storm, Ferda ironically felt a sense of calm. This place, where the emotions of hundreds of people were wavering, felt much more comfortable than rational, emotion-hiding, convoluted conversations.
The space seemed to fall into the palm of Ferda’s hand, and a sharp insight settled in his eyes. He looked through everything, examining their inner thoughts one by one.
Where is it? The black stain hiding on this gray floor.
"Stand back, Count Consilus!"
"If you lot are determined to see blood, you’ll have to deal with this old man first... Cough!"
Consilus, who had been shouting with veins popping in his neck, suddenly erupted into a fit of coughing. Ferda’s concentration broke along with it.
"Count, what is wrong?"
"Cough, cough!"
Consilus’s coughing wouldn't stop. His body swayed, and he turned his gaze toward Ferda.
"Gah!"
With a harsh sound, he sprayed something onto Ferda’s clothes. It was bright red blood.
"Ugh..."
As he vomited blood, the heated atmosphere came to a grinding halt. Ferda pulled a black handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the man’s mouth, asking, "Count, are you alright?"
"Cough, cough... huff... huff..."
Consilus painfully squinted one eye. Amidst the bewildering scene, someone screamed.
"I-It’s a plague! Count Consilus has a plague!"
That single shout captured the attention of the panicked audience.
"A plague?!"
"Are we going to die too?"
Whether it was actually a plague didn't matter. The fear created by those words was spreading through the hall like a contagion itself. The guards who had been hesitantly approaching backed away, and someone fired the first shot of panic.
"Everyone, get out of here!"
"The plague is spreading! We’re going to die!"
With those words, the hostile atmosphere shifted in a different direction, turning into a scene of utter chaos.
"Silence! Everyone, stay in your seats!"
Akad tried to bring the chaos under control, but in a situation where people felt their lives were at risk, no one was listening. Just as the situation was becoming uncontrollable and a forced recess seemed inevitable—
"SILENCE!!"
A man’s voice commanded the room. Everyone’s voices died down as they regained their senses. It was Waldemar, who had been sitting in the High Committee seat.
Waldemar said nothing more. In the calmed atmosphere, Akad spoke.
"We shall proceed. Priests will check the reason for Count Consilus’s hemoptysis and verify if it is a plague." Akad sighed as if he had no choice. "Therefore, we will recess for another two hours. During this time, for the sake of quarantine, do not leave the Council and remain in your seats. Count Consilus and Regent Ferda, please receive a diagnosis from the priests. That is all."
The audience offered prayers to God, hearts filled with the worry that they might die.
Having seen it up close, Ferda knew for certain. What had caused the man to vomit blood was not a plague.
‘Aura Backflow.’
It was a side effect caused by the aura within his body flowing in reverse. Aura was the energy of life, and if that life energy flowed backward, it was agonizingly painful. One’s blood pressure might rise when angry, but aura does not simply flow backward on its own.
‘It’s impossible unless done intentionally.’
Then why?
‘To change the atmosphere.’
He had broken the momentum of the "black mage" accusation, frozen the room with the word "plague," and bought time.
‘To do such a thing without even being told the plan...’
Ferda hadn't involved Consilus. It wasn't that he didn't trust him; he had simply judged that nothing good would come of the Count being entangled in this.
However, thanks to the Count’s bold action, Ferda’s task had become much easier. That was why he had wiped the man’s mouth with the black handkerchief.
"Count Consilus."
While the Count was still conscious, Ferda whispered a question to him. "Who were the people who went in to perform the autopsy on the Young Lord’s body?"
Consilus replied with a groan, "Many people... crowded in."
"Who went in during the actual examination? Did you go inside to observe?"
He said painfully, "I couldn't... Only one person... went in..."
"I see. Thank you."
As he was carefully wiping the Count’s mouth, someone spoke politely to Ferda.
"We are from the Alte Relief Corps. We will transport Lord Consilus. Regent, are you experiencing any symptoms?"
"I am fine. I can move on my own feet, so I will follow."
Ferda stepped back, and Consilus was lifted onto a stretcher, looking as weak as a spent old man. There were many people from the Relief Corps, making the area crowded. In the bustle, one of the Relief Corps members bumped into Ferda’s shoulder.
Since they were moving busily, Ferda was about to dismiss it as a simple mistake.
"Jewels and Gigolos."
It wasn't a mistake. It was a member of the Black Bandana responding to the signal of Ferda pulling out the black handkerchief. The agent listened to Ferda’s words while preparing for the transport.
"The ‘Black’ is..."
From the moment Ferda had been identified as the murderer, he had focused his maximum concentration on scanning everyone and watching their reactions. He had verified it several times through his panoramic vision, and now he had a definitive answer from Consilus as well.
Ferda leaned in and whispered into the agent’s ear.
"The ‘Black’ is Joseph Faust."
The head of the Alte Faith. He was the Demon Follower.