Chapter 137: A Cracked Dam (2)
Chapter 137: A Cracked Dam (2)
The problem was that, given the circumstances, the Marquis hadn't completely subdued his opponent without suffering any damage himself.
"Cough."
Blood came up.
The demon-race seized the opening and rose to its feet. The Empire's third Hero, even as he coughed up a mouthful of blood, caught the movement and hurled a dagger.
Perhaps because his fingertips had trembled due to the hemoptysis, the dagger narrowly grazed past the creature's face.
'If his physical condition had been fine, it definitely would have hit.'
As if sensing that fact as well, the demon-race stumbled backward with a face drained bone-white, then turned tail and fled.
This was the one the Marquis had reduced himself to that state trying to capture. He absolutely could not be allowed to escape.
Steeling himself with firm resolve, the knight drew his sword and moved to pursue the demon, but—
"Cough, cough! Cough-hack-gag! Keh-hek, kek!!"
"M-Marquis!"
Perhaps the Marquis would be angry. From his perspective, he surely would have preferred they chase the demon-race rather than fuss over his own body.
But even so, the Marquis's body came first.
Resolving himself to a severe scolding later, the knight sheathed the sword he had drawn and hurriedly approached Deon Hart.
* * *
Demon-nim had sacrificed himself. That image of him telling me to go while coughing up blood....
Having gone that far, there was no room for stubbornness. Ben retreated as ordered for now, biting his lip hard.
'I need to treat him.......'
Far from treating him, he had become nothing but a burden.
It was the first time the signal had come in that strong. Not a simple hemoptysis signal, but a signal of massive bleeding due to external injury.
Perhaps because of that, he had fallen into a panic. By the time he came to his senses, he had finally succeeded in the escape that had always failed before.
When he met Demon-nim, he had felt elation at the thought that he could finally examine the wound directly.......
"Cough, cough! Cough-hack-gag! Keh-hek, kek!!"
"M-Marquis!"
He sensed the Imperial knight who had been about to pursue him turn back toward Demon-nim amidst the violent coughing.
His running pace slowed under the weight of his wretched feelings. No one was chasing him. Ben stopped in his tracks and murmured quietly.
"Demon-nim... you really were a noble, after all."
He had expected that he was by no means of lowly status, but still.
"Your standing on the human world side is still intact, too."
Had it been for the sake of playing the spy? Since he had gone out under the pretext of carrying out His Majesty the Demon King's orders, the Demon King would have known as well.
Even at a rough grasp, this was a critical matter and a state secret. Enough that he would have no room for protest even if he were to be killed for learning of it.
So let us stop thinking here. Ben consciously halted his mind from calculating and analyzing any further.
'In the end, I only learned of it through my own fault.'
He had no desire to dig into that person's information, and even now, having learned a fragment of it, he still didn't.
So....
'I know nothing.'
Ben chose to forget it entirely.
* * *
Rumors spread.
[Honorary Marquis Deon Hart was ambushed by the demon-race while subjugating demonic beasts.
Due to that, he sustained internal injuries and let slip the prey he had nearly caught.]
This changed after Deon Hart was examined by the court physician the Emperor had personally sent.
[Honorary Marquis Deon Hart was ambushed by the demon-race while subjugating demonic beasts.
Despite that, he subdued them without damage and had nearly caught them all, but let them slip due to the Demon King's curse.]
The reactions of those who heard the rumors were mixed.
Some argued that the title of 'Hero' was unbefitting of a person so decrepit that he let a single demon-race escape due to a curse when he had nearly caught it, and that the title should be revoked. Others argued that since it was a curse he had incurred while recovering the Hero's corpse, revoking the title would be unjust, and that it would be better to simply have him step back from the front lines and recuperate.
Someone said that since they were in a situation where even one more person was needed to oppose the Demon Realm, they should select him for tasks that were not immediately critical, such as subjugating demonic beasts. Someone else said they couldn't wastefully divert a person of such skill—one who could withstand a demon-race ambush without damage and even turn the tables to suppress them—to some random place, and that they should just let him continue as he had been.
Quite apart from these arguments, there were also those who breathed sighs of relief and stroked their chests.
"It seems... he is not a vampire, after all."
"At the very least, he does not appear to be on the Demon Realm's side."
"Indeed. If he were on the Demon Realm's side, far from trying to suppress a demon-race while enduring damage himself, he would have killed the knight who was the witness and helped that demon-race escape."
"That is truly a relief."
There is no need to worry about Honorary Marquis Deon Hart anymore.
Thus, the Deon Hart vampire theory that had been a topic of conversation among some nobles was resolved to some extent and gradually died down.
And upon hearing this news along with the rumors, the Emperor leaned loosely back in his chair and let out a light, hollow laugh.
"Vampire... to think that the fools who believe such rumors are the nobles of this Empire—it's absurd."
"......."
"More importantly, a demon-race, you say."
I shall have to summon Deon Hart soon.
* * *
At some point, the Emperor's hallucinations had worsened.
As he had someone summon Deon Hart and processed documents until his arrival, the Emperor quietly pressed his brow at the hallucinations that had grown more severe than before. But only for a moment—he drew a short blade and....
"Your Majesty."
"......What is it, General?"
"You were aiming at your wrist, not the back of your hand."
"......."
A cackling voice rang in his ears.
The vision that had been obscured by hallucinations cleared, and belatedly, the sight of his posture aiming at his own wrist came into view. And Nemeseus, who had dared to commit the discourtesy of seizing the wrist holding the short blade to stop it.
"......In this state, it must be difficult even to maintain your sanity."
"The wounds on your hand are considerable enough."
"I am aware."
Clang.
The Emperor docilely let go of the short blade. Watching Nemeseus pick it up and put it away in preparation for any contingency, he leaned back against the backrest as if releasing the tension in his body.
After a long while, with his head tilted all the way back and his eyes covered with the back of his hand, the Emperor spoke as if murmuring.
"Something is strange......."
"What is it, if I may ask?"
"The hallucinations. I sense not a familiar malice born of my own imagination, but a blatant and unfamiliar malice. Whenever that happens, the air around me grows chill......."
He dredged up his reason, which had lost its function due to war, hallucinations, and fatigue. He reorganized his ravaged brain and forcibly wrung it out, making it work.
The Emperor was a man whose mental fortitude, at least, was thoroughly tempered. Amidst all manner of elements disrupting his thoughts, he skillfully identified what judgment he needed to make.
"......Quietly, summon a sorcerer."
Not a physician, but a sorcerer.
Nemeseus hesitated briefly, then bowed his head as if nothing had happened.
"Understood."
The sorcerer arrived in short order.
The woman, who had presumably received an explanation on the way, was trembling yet steadfastly followed behind Nemeseus. Upon seeing the Emperor, she turned pale. The closer she drew to the Emperor, the worse it became, until she finally stopped and dry-heaved.
"Urp...!"
"You dare."
"Enough."
The Emperor, who had restrained Nemeseus from drawing his sword, slowly turned his gaze to the sorcerer.
"As expected, it seems I have been cursed, is that it?"
"Y-yes... you have... been cursed, but......."
"A curse potent enough to induce nausea, I see."
"N-no...! The curse itself is something I can manage at my level!"
"Then?"
She said the nausea was not because the curse was potent.
Then what was the cause?
Meeting the golden eyes filled with inquiry, the sorcerer hastily lowered her head to avoid his gaze and stammered as she opened her mouth.
"That is... because the karma and grudges you yourself carry, Your Majesty, are so immense...."
"Ah, it seems the deeds I have committed are visible to you. Were they truly that potent?"
"I would even dare to ask... how you are maintaining your sanity."
"That is impertinent."
In the end, Nemeseus drew his sword.
"Enough, General. Is what she said wrong?"
With a chuckle and a wave of his hand, the Emperor uncrossed his legs and leaned his upper body crookedly against the armrest.
A relaxed posture to ease the other's tension.
Reading the Emperor's intent, Nemeseus likewise sheathed his sword and stepped back. In the atmosphere that flowed more freely than before, the Emperor slowly began to speak.
"At any rate, it is true that I have been cursed, then....... Can it be traced back?"
"Reverse tracing is inherently difficult. How could one trace something in reverse when it leaves no traces and can only be seen by the victim and those with special eyes?"
"Is that so? I was curious who it might be, so that is a pity."
His voice was plain and free of lingering attachment.
The sorcerer, who had been gauging the situation, carefully asked.
"Are you not... angry...?"
"Well... more than half the world likely dislikes and hates me. It would be laughable if not a single one among them used sorcery, and even more laughable to seek them out for revenge. I was merely curious who the fool was who would curse the monarch of a nation standing against the Demon Realm on the front lines in times like these."
"Ah, the curse has been attached for quite a long time... as I thought, you were unaware."
"Hm?"
This was unexpected.
"How long has it been?"
"It appears to have been over a year... but it began to take effect only recently. It seems you had been suppressing it with mental fortitude all that time."
"Mental fortitude, you say... I have indeed become considerably fatigued recently. Perhaps because of that, the hallucinations worsened as well."
"Hallucinations even... seeing that karma and those grudges, it would be stranger not to see them, but... how on earth have you endured until now?"
The Emperor merely smiled, pleased.
Either way, his mental fortitude had been acknowledged.
'With this, one of the qualities of a monarch has been fulfilled.'
Meanwhile, the sorcerer, who had taken out yellow paper from the luggage she brought, drew blood from her finger and began to write something.
"The karma and resentment attached due to the deeds Your Majesty has committed are not things I can do anything about...."
"That is not something I desire, either."
"As I thought. At any rate, the curse attached to Your Majesty can be removed. For now, my preparations are insufficient, so the best I can do is temporarily suppress its power. If you summon me again in three days, I will prepare properly and remove the evil spirit."
Evil spirit?
At the word that had appeared for the first time since meeting the sorcerer, the corners of the Emperor's eyes twitched and contorted.
So the curse was of the kind that attached an evil spirit.
"I had thought it might be the kind of curse that takes my life, but... it was merely attaching an evil spirit."
"To send forth killing intent, one pays with what is most precious to the caster and what is most precious to the one who commissioned the caster. Usually, it is one's own life or the lives of precious people such as family or lovers. Since it directly takes the opponent's life, that much is needed for the scales to balance. Therefore, the kind of curse you mentioned...."
"Would not be used except in extreme circumstances. However, if the 'direct' method is the problem, then indirect methods would also exist, would they not?"
"Yes, the evil spirit attached to Your Majesty is an example of such an indirect method."
The yellow paper with red writing stretched out.
As if it did not hurt, the sorcerer bit her fingertip anew to draw blood whenever it stopped, making talismans.
Since an unauthorized person could not wear weapons before the Emperor, that was the only way to draw blood, but still....
"Nemeseus, at least offer her a dagger."
"......Yes, Your Majesty."
"Ah, it is nearly done, so you need not trouble yourself."
"To dare refuse His Majesty's kindness...."
"Enough, General. Continue the story from earlier. I do not believe that was the end of the explanation."
Tapping the armrest of the chair with his fingers to calm Nemeseus, the Emperor chuckled.
Nemeseus was amusing when you observed him. He had told him to practice hiding his expressions, yet how could he so openly display his displeasure when ordered to offer a dagger? And when the sorcerer actually refused, he even became offended....
He glanced at the sorcerer. As if she had finished making the talismans, she gathered up the papers scattered around and resumed the interrupted explanation.
"The evil spirit attached to Your Majesty is of the kind that shakes the mind and slowly drains life force. It is one of the methods commonly used against someone they truly wish dead."
"Fascinating."
"It is a pitiful and wicked method that uses the dead to harm someone. For now, I shall temporarily burn this talisman to suppress the evil spirit's energy."
Using the dead to harm someone, she said.... One could think of it that way, indeed.
The Emperor waved his hand, signaling her to do as she saw fit, and propped his chin on his hand.
Hearing that explanation, he felt he understood how he had endured for all this long time.
How much could the malice of a pathetic wretch who lacked even the courage to harm him directly and so used the dead possibly affect him? It was merely laughable.
As he quietly observed the sorcerer at work, a voice came from outside.
"Your Majesty, Honorary Marquis Deon Hart has arrived."