Blue Beard (4)
The name of the Shadow King was never one to take lightly.
To assassins it had become legend; to those who had lived through the same era, it reigned as pure terror. Gilles de Rais was an alchemist of that same generation, so his fear was hardly surprising.
Still… isn’t this a bit much?
“P-please, just spare my life!”
Count Gilles de Rais—Blue Beard himself—was bowing so low his forehead nearly scraped the floor, begging for mercy as if every scrap of his earlier arrogance had been a lie. All because of one single letter!
What the hell did I even do?
A wave of pure injustice washed over Evan. If he had known it would turn out like this, he never would have shown the damn thing!
Even if I told him it’s a misunderstanding right now, he wouldn’t believe me, would he?
Honestly, if Evan had been in the count’s shoes, he wouldn’t have believed it either. When a man was trembling that hard, what words could possibly get through?
“……I did not come here to harm you. I only came to obtain certain materials I require.”
“I-I’ll give you everything! All of it!”
See? Completely useless.
Ah, screw it!
Just grab what he needed and get the hell out of here. Having made up his mind, Evan opened his mouth.
“Do you happen to have any Moon Illusion Herb?”
“Yes! Of course I do! I’ll take you there at once!”
Count Gilles de Rais shot to his feet and began leading the way. Evan followed behind him.
“Mmm.”
That was when Lapis carefully tugged at the hem of Evan’s coat.
“Evan. Evan.”
“?”
She rose on her toes and whispered quietly into his ear.
“That man… he reeks of something wicked.”
“……Smell?”
“My instincts are telling me. Probably……”
The instincts of the Sin of Wrath herself.
“He’s planning to betray you, Evan.”
“…….”
A chill crawled up Evan’s entire body. Instead of answering, he simply stared at the count’s back.
Right. He remembered now—the reason Count Gilles de Rais conducted human experiments in the first place.
Blue Beard, Count Gilles de Rais.
An alchemist who had lived for more than a hundred years. As he climbed the stairs to guide Evan, he briefly sank into old memories.
A long life. Countless meetings and partings. One of them had been the farewell with his master.
—Master.
—Heh heh. Call me Father, if you like.
His father and his master. Under the one-disciple tradition, the man had chosen Gilles alone and bequeathed him everything—his only family in the world. Even after extending his life through blood, the master had finally met death.
—Suppress that cruel nature of yours. You must never live according to your true self……
The master had pleaded with him again and again.
—Never, ever attempt to bring me back…… Wait for the noble one who will come……
But children always defy their fathers. Gilles, left nearly sterile as the price of his own life-extension research, had only one person left who could ever understand him—his father and master. So he continued the research, shifting his focus from mere longevity to the resurrection of the dead.
Dead Resurrection.
The ultimate taboo that must never be attempted. As long as one belonged to the Alchemist Tower, it was an absolute prohibition.
So he had turned his eyes elsewhere—to the homunculus. An artificial life-form. A golem that possessed true life. Information on golems had been largely lost, making the work difficult, yet somehow he had managed to press forward.
—Oh? Not Dead Resurrection, you say? Binding a soul into an artificial body for revival…… How fascinating.
Even the Shadow King, whom he met along the way, had taken a liking to the idea.
—I like it. When the time comes, I shall give you something useful.
Count Gilles de Rais had waited blindly, gathering the necessary materials. The most crucial ingredient was human life-force. Ordinary life would not do. He needed women whose vitality was so robust they could even share it with healthy children.
So he took wives. Covering it up was easy. The death of a nobleman’s wife was hardly rare—especially a count’s. After all, they were commoners, weren’t they? No house to protect them, no power to speak of. Death was only natural.
While he continued killing his wives under the guise of accidents, a certain rumor reached his ears.
The youngest alchemist—Evan Alcarte. The wastrel born to the Alcarte ducal house.
—He started learning alchemy after his mother died?
—That means……
—Yes. For Dead Resurrection.
—Tsk. Pitiful. That is absolutely impossible.
—A tragic story. We won’t press the matter.
The window for Dead Resurrection was twenty years. Fail to revive the soul within that time and it departed the living world forever. Even fifty years of training would not grant the skill needed to commit the taboo. In other words, it was impossible.
Every alchemist in the Tower lost interest—except Count Gilles de Rais.
It is possible.
Yet he still lacked something critical: a sufficiently perfect base body for the homunculus. There was only one way to fill that gap—a body gifted with extraordinary alchemical talent.
And then news arrived that Evan Alcarte was showing an absurd rate of growth. An intermediate potion in half a year? That was something that normally took a decade. The talent had been proven. All that remained was to lure him into the territory.
So when strange rumors began to spread, Gilles deliberately left them alone—encouraged them, even—so that the boy would come of his own free will.
And today, the Shadow King had finally kept his promise.
Thud.
“We have arrived, Lord Evan.”
The sixth floor. The highest level—an entire floor renovated into a single chamber. Count Gilles de Rais stepped aside from the door.
“Inside is everything I have gathered over the years. I hope it is to your liking……”
The knowledge, artifacts, and essences an alchemist accumulates over a lifetime. No fellow alchemist could possibly look upon them without greed. There were even a few items obtained through dealings with the heretics who had fled from Arthur.
He will definitely take the bait.
Only one step left until the day he would see his master again—
“…….”
Evan gazed down at the back of the count’s head. What the man intended was, in plain terms, Dead Resurrection. It might have begun as life extension, but its end was an act that sought to overturn even the providence of death itself.
In the original story, of course, it had ended in failure.
First reason: his knowledge and skill had been insufficient to properly synthesize a homunculus. A homunculus was artificial life and artificial flesh—essentially a type of golem. Naturally, one needed to be skilled with golems.
Second reason: because the act bordered on taboo, an equivalent exchange of matching weight was required. Five women had not been nearly enough. Ten would not have been enough either. Even offering his own life would have left success uncertain—so how could this ever work?
“Count.”
Evan spoke calmly.
“……Yes, young master.”
“I suggest you remove the hand you just slipped into your coat.”
He had been found out. Count Gilles de Rais realized it by pure instinct. His pupils blazed with fierce resolve. When an alchemist’s purpose was exposed, there was only one course of action left.
Forced execution. Push the plan through no matter what!
Slap!
He activated synthesis and pressed his palm against the wall.
Comprehension, then Decomposition.
A door that should never have opened dissolved and vanished, revealing the interior of the room in full.
In that instant, a nauseating stench slammed into them.
Five skeletons sprawled across the floor, dried blood caked into the boards, maggots feasting on rotting flesh—the reek of death itself. At the same time, empty skulls began to belch smoke: cursed artifacts that released a paralyzing miasma. The smoke, mixed with incense, washed over them at once.
“Urgh?!”
Dolf screamed and clamped both hands over his nose. His body locked up as though frozen solid; only his eyes could still blink. Beside him, Evan stood just as still. He had been caught the same way.
“Got you, you little bastard.”
A cold smile twisted across Count Gilles de Rais’s face. He thrust his hand into his coat and drew out the glass stone he had prepared in advance. Low durability, but sharp enough to sever a throat cleanly. Through synthesis the stone reshaped into a razor edge and shot toward Evan’s legs.
In that same moment—
Clang!
……Clang?
Something had blocked it. The count’s eyes widened in shock. Only then did he notice the leather armor Evan wore—armor that had somehow already shifted to protect the boy’s legs.
Don’t tell me……
That armor was a golem?
Clatter-clatter-clatter!
The living golem transformed in an instant, becoming full-body plate. The only thing still visible were Evan’s two golden eyes.
“……Antidote open.”
Boom!
The mansion wall exploded inward as a massive arm thrust through. A golem’s arm. The construct that had punched through the wall tossed an antidote vial; the curse vanished in a heartbeat.
“……!”
At least intermediate-grade antidote—no, higher. And one specifically formulated against curses. Why would anyone carry something like that around?
Had he anticipated betrayal from the very beginning?
A fresh wave of goosebumps raced over the count’s skin—just as something writhed in the shadows.
!!
His head snapped downward on pure reflex. An ominous “something” was squirming in the darkness. Before Gilles could even react—
Thud!
A golem erupted from the shadows and smashed its fist into the count’s jaw. A liquid, writhing construct—Unit Two. The golem that hid in shadows for the sole purpose of protecting its master.
“Ghk……”
Thud!
Count Gilles de Rais’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed.
“…….”
Lapis looked down at the fallen man. Of course she had not been affected by the paralysis curse. Bound by a far heavier curse called destiny, something this trivial could never touch her.
Still……
He’s not…… super angry, right?
Even Lapis, born under the fate of Wrath, was a girl whose rage only Evan could restrain. She was simply worried about how furious he might be.
While she nervously watched his face—
Whew. I’m alive!
Coward, safety-first, total chicken. Evan was simply feeling profound relief inside.
I thought my heart was going to stop from the shock!
Thank god he had prepared in advance. Without that, he would have been finished right here.
Good thing I already knew.
In the original story, Count Gilles de Rais had only ever targeted women’s bodies. Something about needing them for materials? Men were supposedly useless to him. So why had he gone after Evan?
Probably because he needed something for the “homunculus” he was trying to create.
Is that also why he never shut down the rumors?
What exactly did he need for a homunculus? Don’t tell me……
An insanely handsome face?
Was appearance the criterion? Evan seriously considered the possibility for a moment before realizing this was no time for idle thoughts. Things had gone so smoothly he had almost forgotten the situation.
“Lapis. Dolf. Are you both all right?”
“Cough, cough—yes! I’m fine!”
“I’m fine too, Evan. Um……”
Lapis glanced at him cautiously.
“You’re not mad…… right?”
Me?
Why would he be angry? Sure, it was annoying, but the count had been subdued so pathetically that Evan honestly felt almost nothing.
“I am not angry.”
“R-really? I should have handled it sooner…… I’m sorry……”
The scarier one was actually Lapis.
What if Lapis is the one who’s angry?
She was the Sin of Wrath. If she awakened to rage right now, this entire territory would be wiped off the map.
“Simply warning me was more than enough.”
He gently stroked Lapis’s head.
“I am glad you were not hurt, Lapis. You did well.”
“Hehe.”
Perhaps she felt something in that touch. At last she relaxed and beamed up at him with pure, sunny relief.
“So what do we do now? Should we kill him?”
“……Please do not say such bloodthirsty things, Lapis. It makes you sound cruel.”
And it made his skin crawl, so just stop.
“Then what should we do?”
“Hmm.”
What to do? Wait until the count woke up?
Nah. Why bother?
Evan might be a coward, but he was no pushover. After getting stabbed in the back like this, he was going to take everything he could get.
“Let’s collect our compensation separately. We are entitled to damages, after all.”
“Should I go get them?”
“It is dangerous, so stay here.”
Tap-tap.
Evan rapped the floor with his staff. The staff in his hand decomposed into a swarm of tiny golems.
They clustered together, looking up at him. Evan pointed at the room.
“Take everything useful.”
Nod!
The little golems poured inside in a chittering wave. Lapis watched the unfamiliar form with open curiosity.
“What are those……?”
“Miniature golems. I split them off temporarily to move objects.”
“They can do that?”
“Yes. Of course.”
In truth, only two golems had been used against Count Gilles de Rais. That was nowhere near his full force.
Thud-thud! Clack-clack!
The miniature golems efficiently sorted and stacked everything of value. When Evan turned his head, his eyes met those of the count’s wife.
“Ah. Right.”
“Eek!”
She looked utterly terrified. Had he frightened her too much?
Evan regarded her for a moment, then raised a single finger to his lips—a silent request that she forget everything and live quietly from now on. Meanwhile the miniature golems dragged the unconscious Count Gilles de Rais away; hauling him around while moving the loot would have been a nuisance.
To the wife, it must have looked exactly like a clean-up crew erasing a murder scene. She nodded so hard and so fast her head seemed ready to fall off.
……Why was she that scared?
Evan found it puzzling, yet he continued gathering everything worth taking.