The First Special Audit, a Resounding Success
"M-monster!"
The priestess stumbled backward.
"Don't come near me!"
"Tsk, such terrible manners. Clearly, you need this."
Caric raised his axe.
"I shall gift you wisdom eternal and immortal. Refusal? Refused. Congratulations on your award, Mr. Caric."
THWACK!
The winner's head went rolling, and the short awards ceremony came to a close.
Out of courtesy, he had ended it with a slice rather than his usual crushing blow.
The head remained more or less intact.
Whatever the public might have thought of it, Caric was reasonably satisfied with the ceremony.
He spoke to Celis, who was walking out of the barrier spell.
"Handle the body for me. Put a preservation spell on it too."
"I don't think it's actually dead yet?"
"Hmm?"
Caric turned around.
Celis was right.
The priestess, who should have been dead, was staring at him with her eyes grotesquely rolled back.
"Kihihihi… Kikiki…."
A bizarre laugh leaked out from between her tangled hair, past the severed head.
Her fallen body twitched, rose to its feet, and shuffled toward the head.
"Ah, Cardinal… I knew it, I…"
The body pressed the head back into place.
The skin along its back split open, and hideous wings burst forth.
"Time to feast on human flesh… Kukek!"
THWAAACK!
The priestess's body folded in half.
Caric had driven his fist up into her solar plexus.
"Cliché."
He muttered with a note of distaste.
Then he slammed the priestess down into the ground.
CRASH!
Caric looked down at her.
"A monster second phase right after the humanoid caster phase? Way too cliché."
Disappointment settled in his eyes.
"You should have just left cleanly when you had the chance. To think the first-ever award recipient, Mr. Caric's honoree, would be this tacky. At this rate, we won't even be able to hold a second ceremony."
"Kuhehek…"
"Playing cute won't save you."
Caric's foot stomped down hard on the priestess's back.
"Do better in your next life."
His axe blade drove in between the wing joints.
CRUNCH!
The heart burst apart, spraying black blood and red blood simultaneously.
And that was that.
A heart that hadn't even finished its demonization could not withstand the power of overwhelming wisdom.
As Caric pulled his axe free, Celis came over.
"Good work. Looks properly dead this time."
She cast a preservation spell on the corpse and tucked it away into her shadow.
"Want me to get you a handkerchief? There's quite a lot of blood on your face."
"I'm fine. Isn't this all part of looking cool?"
Caric continued.
"More importantly, I'd like your help with the search. As you can see, I can't tear through everything myself."
The underground cavern seemed to function as a kind of hub.
Just within sight, more than a dozen passages burrowed off in every direction.
"Already on it. I've had my shadows deployed since right after we came out of the barrier."
"Excellent."
"Truth be told, I'm already engaged with the cleaners sent by the First Prince's faction too. But these ones are no pushovers."
"Where? I'll back you up right now."
"It's not a matter of force."
The corner of Celis's mouth twitched slightly.
"These people are masterful. They were covering fake evidence with more fake evidence."
Caric flicked the blood off his axe and asked with evident interest.
"What do you mean?"
"Everything here was planted at least two weeks ago."
"Two weeks? Odd timing. Sounds like it overlaps with the attempt on Annette."
"Exactly. This place is a trap set up in case the assassination failed. It's designed to make investigators from another faction name the 'Count's faction' as the cultists."
Caric remembered what the priestess had said at the very beginning.
[You made a mistake. A little earlier than expected — but to think you'd actually make it this far!]
In other words, the only thing that had deviated from the plan was that they'd arrived too early.
This place had been bait meant to be handed over to the doomed investigators from the start.
"Then that's that. So why call in the cleaners?"
"Your capture of the Minister of Interior. They're trying to perfect the cover-up."
"Specifically?"
"The cleaners are pretending to be from the Count's faction right now. Destroying the existing evidence, then deliberately scattering clumsy 'fake evidence fabricated to frame the First Prince's faction as cultists.'"
Caric grasped the situation.
"So if we'd discovered this as-is, the First Prince would have come off as the poor, slandered victim."
"Even the personnel selection is meticulous. You remember the priestess you killed? The daughter of the Merchant Guild's chairman."
"Count's faction?"
"Yes. And the chairman's position makes him all but obligated to be close with the Minister of Interior."
"Evasive maneuvers of the highest caliber. So this is what it takes to be imperial royalty."
"Same goes for the cleaners. The ones who aren't commoners are third or fourth sons of Count's faction houses, or fanatics born on the wrong side of the sheets."
"Ah, so that's how they try to deceive a righteous investigator like me."
Caric lamented with theatrical grief.
"Thank you, Celis! If not for you, an innocent soul like me would have swallowed every last lie."
"Uh, right."
"But now that the truth is out, the path forward is clear."
Caric grinned, readjusting his grip on the axe.
"Gather up every scrap of that doctored evidence. Show it to the Count's faction and they'll be over the moon — after all, they nearly got pinned as cultists."
"Good idea."
Celis, too, seemed to have a rough picture of how things would unfold.
Caric nodded and organized the situation.
"Then we deal with the leftovers before collecting the spoils. I'd like you to copy down that barrier spell of theirs in advance, though."
He swung his axe in a wide arc.
"Now then, let's see just how expensive and sturdy the armor on these noble cleaners is."
Caric strode toward the passage where the stench of blood hung thickest.
After that, he distributed 'wisdom' to his enemies with unstinting generosity.
He was throwing out 0.1-sincerity strikes so routinely they might as well have been ordinary blows.
"Uuuuulbaaaaraa!"
BOOOOM!
BOOOOM!
Caric smashed through everything — armor, traps, all of it.
The cornered cultists' choice was a simple one.
Coughing up blood themselves, they sprayed mist-form curses in every direction.
Ignoring even allies being crushed underfoot, they collapsed the passages with explosives.
And so they bought themselves a sliver of time against Caric's pursuit.
The cultists scattered in all directions through the thick fog and cascading debris, fleeing helter-skelter for the surface.
The peaceful noble quarter of the Imperial Capital.
What shattered its leisurely atmosphere was the voice of a single noble young lady.
"Wh-what is that?"
She pointed anxiously at the antique shop.
Shadows had suddenly taken on substance and begun plugging every crack of the building's doors and windows.
But it was far from enough to seal every gap.
HISSSS!
Sinister black smoke began seeping out through the window frames.
"Fire!"
Someone shouted.
But within moments, everyone realized this was no mere blaze.
WHOOSH!
The pitch-black smoke spread rapidly through the surroundings as if it were alive.
Those who inhaled it vomited blood and collapsed to the ground.
People dropping like flies in the middle of the street in broad daylight — a full-blown disaster.
"M-Mother."
The noble young lady froze in place, at a complete loss.
That was when it happened.
NEIGH!
A single carriage drawn by a fine black steed appeared on the street.
Emblazoned on its door was nothing less than the imperial crest.
"A prince?"
Contrary to the young lady's expectations, the person who stepped down from the carriage was someone she had never seen before.
A white-haired woman in a white dress.
She carried an overwhelming presence that could only be described as innate.
The moment she descended from the carriage, everyone forgot the situation entirely, their eyes stolen away.
And so, with every gaze fixed upon her.
The woman extended her hand toward the empty air with a dignified motion.
FWOOSH!
From her hand spread a radiance that could only be called holy.
The Radiance swept away the black fog that had blanketed the street in an instant.
It was as though the demons and devils dared not stand against the light of a goddess.
The coughing of those who had collapsed retching blood subsided as if by magic.
The noble young lady, staring blankly at the light, belatedly realized who the woman was.
Could that be… Her Highness the Seventh Princess?
The young lady gazed at Annette, haloed in her own afterglow, and thought:
She looks like an angel…
Meanwhile, Annette — the very center of all that attention — was trembling like a leaf inside.
Lord Caric! This whole thing really is almost over, right? Please tell me a Great Demon didn't actually descend or something!
She had received word via rat skull while en route, and thank goodness she'd hurried.
Had she arrived any later, the situation might have truly spiraled.
No fatalities. All the wounded treated. Phew, this side of things is wrapped up nicely.
Holding back the fog's spread with her Radiance, Annette headed toward its source — the antique shop.
The crowd parted for her, wearing expressions as if they'd glimpsed the avatar of a goddess.
The shop's door had long since been torn clean off.
Only the black smoke packed densely inside prevented any view of the interior.
It looked like the bottomless pit of hell itself.
By the time Annette and her retinue came to a stop before it.
CRASH.
The sound of something breaking inside began to ring out.
And it wasn't alone.
"H-hiiiik! Save meee!"
Someone's desperate screams carried out as well.
"N-not me! I didn't! I just—! Kuhok!"
"Monster! It's a monster! AAAH!"
There was more than one.
Terrified figures were being chased down by something.
And they were dying.
The thing hunting them said nothing at all.
CRASH.
It was simply harvesting lives with a diligence that sent chills down the spine.
Worse, the sounds were steadily drawing closer.
And with them, the screaming voices dwindled one by one.
By now, they were probably all dead.
Just from hearing those sounds alone.
The nobles of the street were utterly overwhelmed by the monster.
There was no doubt in their minds — that monster was the cause of this entire catastrophe.
"Y-Your Highness."
The noble young lady addressed Annette, trembling violently.
"You have to r-run. That thing…"
"No."
Annette spoke calmly — no, rather, with a voice that almost sounded expectant.
"That person is the one I've been waiting for."
The nobles understood the meaning of those words a short while later.
"Gwahak! Hooook!"
A figure came screaming out of the black fog, fleeing for its life.
The one that had been hunted by the 'monster'.
It was no longer human.
It still wore the battered remains of imperial-issue plate armor, but that was all.
Horns jutted from its skull, and mottled black blotches covered its skin.
A half-demonized cultist.
Its face was a mess of despair and terror.
"I— haaaah, I iiiis—!"
Gasping for breath, the creature stretched its hands toward the nobles watching it.
"S-save me. Someone, someone please—"
THWIP.
At that moment, a single hand shot out of the darkness.
A huge, thick, calloused hand.
"Mmph! Mmmpmh!"
The hand seized the demon's mouth as if to tear it right off.
Then it dragged the creature back into the darkness.
"Mmmmmph!"
What followed was exactly the same as before.
CRASH!
Except this time, perhaps because the distance was so close.
The sounds that came after reached the nobles' ears with perfect clarity.
The sound of flesh bursting, of viscera plastering itself against the walls.
The sound of steel being extracted from a split-open body.
And above all.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of the one who had finished the slaughter approaching.
The nobles stared into the darkness with the resignation of those facing a scheduled doom.
And at last, the executioner revealed himself.
"Hrk!"
He was a giant drenched head to toe in black and red blood.
He radiated a killing intent that, together with the reek of gore, threatened to suffocate everyone nearby.
It was as if the very concept of slaughter had been sculpted into human form.
The giant walked wordlessly toward Annette, step by steady step.
In his hand hung the head of the demon he had just torn apart.
The nobles held their breath.
It seemed certain that any moment now, the man would harm the princess.
But Caric's actions upon reaching Annette were entirely different.
Like a knight, he dropped to one knee and laid the demon's head down beside him.
"Lord Caric, you've returned. Thank you for your hard work."
Annette said in a gentle voice.
"How did your first 'Special Audit' go?"
"A resounding success."
Caric pointed at the demon head resting on the ground.
"Everyone threw themselves into the audit with such enthusiasm, I nearly ran short of gifts to prepare for them."