Chapter 91
Chapter 91
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 91
Chapter Title: Black Lion
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When heading out to meet someone for the first time, there was now a routine course I had to go through.
“ What kind of person is the Black Lion Margrave?”
Essentially, it involved prying personal details out of the Hero, who was practically a walking encyclopedia.
She'd helped me out countless times with all sorts of trivial information on superhumans like that.
This time too, surely...
[I've forgotten.]
“...”
...Useless, really.
[To begin with, she's someone the Gray Cardinal has her teeth sunk into. I didn't pay much attention, figuring her time was running out soon anyway.]
I'd heard about that.
Apparently, Felix had wiped out every trace of the family she bore a grudge against.
And now she was sharpening her blade for revenge.
“Unlike other times, this one actually makes a bit of sense, Hero.”
If Felix had marked her, it wasn't hard to see why she'd be treated like a corpse and ignored.
As that thought crossed my mind, the Holy Sword continued.
[Still, one thing comes to mind.]
“Yes?”
[...I heard she's got a pretty mischievous personality. The prankster type.]
Hm.
A prankster, huh.
If that's all it was, I'd count my blessings.
I'd taken care of the world's worst spoiled brat before, after all.
[...]
“...No mind-reading.”
Catching the annoyed vibe from the Holy Sword, Carlyle quickly added.
“Still, you wouldn't have called me without some reason.”
With that, he stroked the head of Blackie, who was clinging to his stomach like a cicada, snoring away.
Thanks to the dragon sisters pulling their weight during the subjugation, this one's job had been nothing but sleeping in the lodgings.
...Though it was a bit tricky when it tried to use him as a bed whenever he was around.
“Good boy, good boy. Nice and sweet.”
He tried to gently set the sleeping Blackie down as he said it, but instead, it clamped its hind legs tighter around his waist and burrowed deeper into his embrace.
...Even half-asleep, it was putting on a fierce protest not to be left behind.
When he tried to pry it off by force, it hugged him all the harder, like an anaconda squeezing its prey.
“...”
Hm.
What to do.
It didn't look like it'd let go easily.
“...Should we just go like this?”
[...You're taking the kid along?]
“Hero, you're mistaken. It might look like this, but it's a catastrophe-level magical beast.”
Strictly speaking, it was more dangerous than the dragon sisters currently shining in the Death March.
It might not beat the young Lady Hero in this timeline, but a fight was definitely possible.
I didn't know what kind of person the Margrave was, but bringing this one along could be pretty helpful.
“They say the last day of the Death March, tomorrow, is usually the most dangerous... This one might need to step up too. If it's just for a strategy meeting, there shouldn't be any issue.”
[...That makes sense. Though you don't seem entirely sane.]
‘Annoying.’
...Of course, crossing the encampment with Blackie dangling from his stomach did draw quite a few stares.
But so what? Carlyle's reputation was already scraping the bottom after everyone saw him abusing the dragon sisters every day.
If there was nowhere left to fall, becoming shameless trash was one option...
“?”
But.
As always with the world, just when you think you've hit rock bottom, there's a basement below.
Someone else was doing something even worse right in front of others—parading around with a child latched to their gut.
“...S-Sorry, Margrave!”
As soon as he lifted the tent flap of the command post, a scream laced with sobs rang out, making Carlyle halt.
The first thing that caught his eye.
Blood splattered across the walls and floor like someone had flung paint cans at them.
And in the center of the tent, a woman hung suspended. She looked like a maid. Hard to make out through the mess, but she was clearly in a maid outfit.
...And the person wielding what was obviously the whip that had done it—dripping blood drop by drop.
Wearing a black mask shaped like a lion's head. In the Black Lion Margrave's tent, it was obvious who that was.
What didn't make sense was why someone like that was whipping a woman who was obviously a maid.
“Please, have mercy—!”
“...”
Seeing the maid cry out desperately, Carlyle quietly covered Blackie's ears.
No matter how you sliced it, it wasn't something for a child to hear...
[...Didn't you just say it's not a child?]
‘...’
This guy really couldn't let one thing slide.
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“Margrave. What is this?”
Whatever the case, the first thing to do was assess the situation.
As a guest invited here, he had the right to ask that much.
At his question, the Margrave lounged in an ornate chair and replied indifferently.
Her voice carried a sense of boredom.
“A soldier caught smuggling supplies. I'm handling it under military law.”
“...”
The question of why she'd chosen this exact moment bubbled up to his throat, but Carlyle kicked it back down for now.
Executing military law in wartime was a commander's natural right. Especially for a crime like that.
But as he listened to what followed, his face grew stiff.
“Bread... It was just a few loaves of bread...”
The maid sniffled as she spoke.
“I-It was leftovers, so I thought it'd be fine... I was going to give it to the nearby slums...”
“Even so, it doesn't change that they were military supplies.”
“I-I'm sorry...! I won't do it again—!”
Before she could finish, the whip cracked again with a chilling snap against her body.
A horrific scream echoed through the tent.
“...”
Carlyle glanced up and down the maid's body.
...It was a total wreck.
Truth be told, whips were nastier weapons than they looked. A regular person could die from just a few lashes.
Yet she was still alive after bleeding this much meant they were clearly going easy to avoid killing her.
You could call it a final mercy, but to Carlyle...
“Margrave. This is outright torture.”
“Hm?”
“I mean the punishment seems excessive. We should investigate and punish after, but from what she's saying, it doesn't seem malicious.”
“The investigation's already done. This maid has a history of getting chummy with the slums folk. She's not lying.”
The Black Lion Margrave said flatly.
“I admit the punishment is harsh.”
But contrary to her words.
The whip struck the maid's body once more.
As the scream rang out, Carlyle's face twitched.
“...Then what's this?”
“Even so, we need an example.”
“...”
“And I need to practice with the whip.”
“...Pardon?”
“I said I need to practice the whip. Got into it recently.”
“...”
“Controlling your strength so you don't kill naturally improves your skill.”
...Carlyle's expression was starting to turn grim.
Honestly.
Earlier, had the Hero called this Margrave a prankster?
This felt way past mischievous.
What prankster? This.
It was on par with Gray at her peak rampage days.
“-”
A little.
He lost his cool.
Carlyle let out a shallow sigh and ran a hand over his face.
A polite smile still hung there, but the 'hostility' pouring from his body made even the whip-wielding Margrave tilt her head to look.
“...What is it, Carlyle Bellfast? Want to fight?”
As the Margrave said that, Carlyle opened his mouth to respond.
Until.
He realized something.
“...”
Blackie, still clinging to his stomach, was sleeping soundly.
“...Huh...?”
Carlyle looked down at it with a puzzled expression.
It could just be a heavy sleeper.
But basically, this one was extremely sensitive to others' presence.
It instinctively sensed even unknown people approaching, and reacted faster than Carlyle to any 'hostile' actions nearby.
Yet, this calm meant only one possibility.
Right now, in this vicinity...
There was nothing worth 'reacting' to.
...Meaning this whole situation wasn't all that 'serious.'
—I heard his nature is quite mischievous. Giving off the vibe of a rascal, supposedly.
The Hero's words from earlier flashed through his mind.
“...”
Carlyle quietly scanned the surroundings again.
...It didn't take long to piece it together.
“Carlyle Bellfast. Answer me. What are you trying to do?”
The Margrave asked, but...
Carlyle turned without a word.
After all.
...He'd already realized she wasn't anyone 'important.'
Carlyle quietly sliced the ropes binding the maid in the center with the Holy Sword and let her drop.
“I asked what you're doing, Carlyle Bellfast.”
“...You, stay quiet.”
Carlyle replied flatly, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
“It's not even real.”
“-?”
As the Margrave shut her mouth at his words.
He spoke plainly.
“Nice to meet you.”
...To the battered maid before him.
“-The 'real' Margrave.”
“...”
The maid's face went blank.
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