Chapter 57: Abduction
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 57: Abduction
The regular meeting of the Grand Council finally drew to a close.
The crowds began to disperse just as they had gathered. As was fitting for a gathering of dukes and high nobility, massive armies congregated in the central district. Their departure served as a military parade—a calculated display of national power intended to intimidate rivals.
In that regard, Escoleia was far removed from such ostentation.
They were a city of knowledge, largely free from diplomatic friction. Preferring practicality and efficiency, they traveled in magic carriages powered by a mage’s mana.
“Can’t we switch to a horse-drawn carriage for once?” President Bernard grumbled to the mage acting as his driver.
“Are we really doing this again, sir?”
“I think about it every time I attend the Grand Council. As the president of a city-state, shouldn’t I have a bit of… you know, prestige?”
“Oh, please don’t use words like ‘prestige.’ You’re not some mercenary who spent his life on the rough streets. It looks pathetic when a middle-aged man with a potbelly says things like that.”
“Besides,” the mage continued, “where would we even keep horses in a city as cramped as a chicken coop? If we used the space required to raise just one horse, we could house a hundred more scholars. You know the faculty would grill you for it.”
“Still, I’m the president in name, at least. You should help me save face…”
“Do you want to deal with the fallout when an audit comes flying in? I know luxury is important in the world of nobles, but the kind of people who understand that don’t become scholars.”
“I just want to ride a carriage too, sigh…”
“If you keep whining, I’m quitting. I’ll just head straight home, alright?”
“Sigh… fine, I was wrong. Let’s go. Just go.”
It’s like I’m serving a master, not an employee, Bernard thought.
The president was in a position where he couldn't do a thing if his mage threatened to walk.
If we’re talking efficiency, it would be better if we could charge mana without needing a mage… Bernard muttered to himself. Yeah, how great would it be if we could just breathe mana into the machine and make it move?
Using a few gears and levers… if it could be operated simply, it would be perfect.
Bernard began sketching his ideas in his notebook. Suddenly, the carriage, which had been moving smoothly, lurched to a halt.
“What’s going on?”
“It looks like someone is blocking the road. Judging by their appearance, they seem to be bandits.”
Bandit groups that blocked paths to collect tolls existed everywhere.
“Should I handle it? I’ve got nothing better to do anyway.” The mage grinned, making a throat-slitting gesture.
“Let’s avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Just give them a little money.”
“Why give them money?”
“They’re just trying to make a living, aren’t they? Give them a reasonable amount and send them on their way.”
“This is why we’re always looked down upon…”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. I’ll be right back.”
The mage grabbed a few handfuls of silver coins and stepped out of the carriage. President Bernard watched, looking displeased by the mage’s remark.
The mage, keeping a cautious distance, tossed the silver coins onto the ground and gestured for the bandits to take them and let them pass.
Suddenly, a sharp flash of light erupted across the mage’s torso.
“Huh?”
A single line of light sliced diagonally, and the mage’s upper body slid off his waist. Standing where the man had been was a beggar with a sickening smile.
And a sword.
“Wh-what?! What is this?!” the president screamed in horror.
The mage in the driver’s seat didn’t react clumsily; he immediately began preparing a spell. It was time to show why he was paid fifty gold coins a day for protection.
However, an object flew toward him with blinding speed.
Shatter!
A dagger pierced through the glass window and buried itself in his throat.
“Aegis, ke-keuk…!”
The mage’s incantation failed. The half-formed magic circle scattered into the air and vanished. In an instant, two 4th Circle mages had been eliminated.
The president sat frozen, watching the beggar approach. He felt it instinctively—even if he tried to run, he would only die faster.
The man who had dispatched two 4th Circle mages in the blink of an eye opened the door. He sat down on the opposite seat, a thin, oily smile on his face.
“Greetings, President of Escoleia.”
“Wh-who are you?”
“There’s no need for you to know who I am. Let’s talk about you instead.”
The man continued speaking unilaterally. Bernard nodded, paralyzed with fear.
“You’re the one who proposed at this Grand Council that there are signs of the Black Dragon Godwin’s second coming, aren’t you?”
“I am, but…?”
“What were you thinking, doing that?”
“I did it for the safety of the continent…”
“Even though you knew it might put you in danger?”
“I might be wrong. But even so, I felt I had to say it…”
“Ah!” The mysterious man cut Bernard off, pressing a blade to his throat. “Let’s not waste time with useless talk. Dragging this out will only be painful for you.”
Blood from the two mages dripped from the dagger. The president swallowed hard, trying his best to suppress his trembling.
“So, weren’t you planning to announce a Monster Appearance Prediction Device?”
“H-how do you know that…?”
“I have ears everywhere. Absolutely everywhere.” The man smirked.
The only people who knew that were a few trusted scholars, his secretary, and Ferda Valdrova.
“Ferda Valdrova!” the president shouted as if struck by a sudden realization. “Are you… a man sent by Regent Ferda?”
“I wonder. Does it look like he sent me?”
“Damn it! I should have known from the moment that brat looked at me with those eyes…!” President Bernard shouted in indignation.
Instead of answering, the man chuckled. “Our President is cuter than I thought. This might not be so bad.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean this.” He pulled out a syringe. “Exactly this.”
The large needle was a weapon in itself. But what terrified the president was the viscous, black liquid inside, thick as tar.
“What on earth is that?”
“A vaccine.”
“A vaccine?”
“Yes, a vaccine. A medicine that will wipe out all the clusters of germs infesting this world.”
The man placed his thumb on the plunger, preparing the injection. Then, he plunged the needle—not into President Bernard, but into himself.
“Ugh…!”
The man groaned in agony. However, he wasn't dying. It was a mutation—no, an evolution. Something similar to the injected tar seeped out of his skin like grease, covering his body. Once the mutation was complete, the man’s form had turned pitch black. He looked less like a human and more like a mannequin made of soft material, or perhaps a new cocoon.
From within that form, red eyes tore open and glowed. When his mouth opened, sharp, beast-like teeth were revealed.
“N-no way…”
Synthesizing these elements, a single word flashed through the president’s mind.
“A demon…!”
The man had become a demon.
“Hahaha! Finally, His… His grace flows through this body!” The man caressed his own face, lost in ecstasy. After basking in the pleasure like someone who had achieved a lifelong ambition, he turned his gaze back to the president.
Bernard instinctively sensed his death. In a desperate attempt to survive, he threw out a question. “Why would a man of your skill… be a Demon Follower?”
Demon Followers were those with nothing left to lose. They were far more vicious than mere Demon Worshippers.
“I was once a knight who knew honor.” The man let out a hollow laugh. “But I learned that no matter how much honor you uphold, if you serve a king who falls for the silver-tongued lies of petty men, your downfall happens in an instant.”
He was a fallen knight.
“So, since I have nothing left to lose, I plan to destroy everything.”
“If you become a demon… you won’t be able to live normally in the human world, let alone on the Serdes Continent… You will become a lost soul who can go to neither Heaven nor Hell. Knowing that, why…?”
“That’s just your opinion.”
The man raised his dagger and slashed President Bernard’s arm. It wasn't a deep wound, but blood flowed freely. The man pressed his hand against the injury. Just as Bernard wondered if the man was playing some twisted game of 'harm and heal,' something incredible happened.
“Mother, Iorga…”
His pitch-black body began to take on the color of flesh. It wasn't just a change in color; parts of his body stretched while others shrank. Finally, he transformed into a shape very familiar to President Bernard.
It was Bernard himself.
“How is it, President? Do I look like you?” The man in Bernard’s form smiled—a smile filled with a malice the real Bernard had never worn in his life.
“What do you intend to do with my research?”
“As expected of a president, your mind works fast.” The man tapped his head with the dagger. “You know very well, don't you? If you’re making something like a Monster Appearance Prediction Device, there’s only one thing for demons to do.”
To ruin the research and make sure the prediction device never existed.
“D-do you think I’ll let you!” At the thought of losing the research he had dedicated his life to, President Bernard finally mustered some courage.
But the other Bernard on the opposite side moved nimbly and grabbed his throat. He began to squeeze, slowly but powerfully.
“Keuk, ke-heuk!”
“Rest well. I shall follow you into the world of the void soon enough.”
Just as he was about to kill the original President Bernard—
“Ambush!”
The shout of a man standing guard outside pierced through the carriage. The disguised Bernard turned his head to see a battle unfolding outside. Assailants had clashed with the Demon Followers posing as beggars.
Only two people were overwhelming more than twenty men. One with brown hair, and one with blonde hair.
At the unexpected raid, the man loosened his grip on the throat and asked, “You… when did you hire guards?”
“Keuk, cough, wh-what guards??” President Bernard asked back, looking utterly bewildered.
Before he could get an answer, the Demon Followers were swiftly dealt with. Those disguised as bandits were mere fodder, but the two newcomers were exceptionally skilled knights.
“This is problematic.”
The man was genuinely concerned. If it were two mages, he could kill them instantly by ambushing them before they could chant, but facing two knights simultaneously was difficult. The man decided to use his wits. He opted for a diversion.
“You there! Be careful!” He kicked open the carriage door and ran out desperately. “Inside! There’s someone inside who looks exactly like me! He’s trying to kill me!”
The man ran like someone consumed by terror. Meanwhile, he firmly concealed the dagger he held in a reverse grip against his forearm. The moment they were within range, he was prepared to strike with the hidden blade.
“Quickly, kill the thing in th—keuk!”
The man didn't get far before he collapsed. A dagger was embedded in his ankle. It was identical to the one held in the brown-haired man’s hand.
“Aaaagh!! What is the meaning of this?!”
There was no reply. Instead, the brown-haired man ran up and kicked the fake Bernard hard in the head.
Thwack!
A sickening sound, like bone snapping. The fake Bernard’s body went limp.
The blonde-haired man’s eyes widened as he shouted, “Sir Jed! What are you doing to the President?!”
The man called Jed gestured with his chin toward the fallen president. “That’s not the president.”
“What are you talking about?! It’s not like he’s using magic to mimic him! If you kick him that hard, he’ll surely d—oh?”
His fussing stopped when he saw the real Bernard finally emerging from the carriage.
“Why are there two presidents…?”
“Ha, you naive country bumpkin. Work on your observation skills. For now, bind this man tightly. I’ll go bring the real one over.”
“Uh… understood.”
Arwen bound the fake, while Jed pulled the real one out of the carriage and supported him.
“Are you alright?”
“Uh, yes… I’m fine. Are you men from the Regent of Valdrova…?”
“Forgive the late introduction. I am Jed Swallow, a knight sworn to the Archduchess of Valdrova. This naive fellow here is Sir Arwen. We were secretly monitoring and guarding you under the Regent’s orders.”
“The Regent’s subordinates… Why is the man who stabbed me in the back helping me?”
“Pardon? I’m not sure what misunderstanding there is, but for now, we will take you to where our Regent is.”
Bernard’s head was spinning; he had been on the verge of death just moments ago. However, he had no choice. The mage who was supposed to drive the carriage was dead, so the carriage couldn't move. The journey was long, and it was too dangerous to walk alone.
President Bernard resigned himself. “Fine. I will follow you.”
“Then, let’s start by stopping the bleeding.”
Jed lightly treated Bernard’s wound, while Arwen tied the other Bernard and threw him onto a horse. They left the scene of the incident behind.
As they rode, a question lingered in Arwen’s mind. “Sir Jed.”
“Yeah?”
“How on earth did you tell them apart?”
Jed had attacked without hesitation, which was why he could catch the enemy off guard. But Arwen couldn't understand the reason behind that lack of hesitation.
Jed gave a short laugh and replied. “There was no luster.”
“…Pardon? Luster?”
“That fake over there… it seems he couldn't replicate the sheen of the President’s bald head.”
“…”
Arwen’s eyes drifted toward Jed’s back. There, he saw President Bernard’s head, faintly reflecting the moonlight.
“Ah.”
It was absurd, but he couldn't find the words to respond.
* * *
After riding through the night, they arrived at a spot where a carriage was waiting. There was Regent Ferda’s carriage and a tent. A young, silver-haired maid greeted them.
“This way.”
The maid lifted the tent flap, and Bernard stepped inside. Warmth, different from the cold and harsh wilderness outside, touched his skin.
Despite its outward appearance, the interior was several times larger. It was so cozy and well-furnished that it was impossible to believe he was inside a tent.
A subspace tent… isn't that an incredible treasure?
A single subspace pocket, which required fairy dust as a medium, was a treasure in itself, but a tent was on an entirely different level. Only a king of an empire-class nation or a dragon could possess such a treasure.
He was reminded once again that this man was the dragon’s spouse.
“Welcome.”
A young man with gray hair and blue eyes greeted him.
It was Ferda.