Chapter 147: Plaudite! (6)
Chapter 147: Plaudite! (6)
[Keep Daniel under close observation. I don't care about the location—inform me immediately the moment he goes somewhere or comes out of somewhere looking pale and shaken.]
That would be the instant he learned of her coughing up blood.
There was no way he was in his right mind. The Daniel that Cruel had investigated was a rational man, as befitting the title he had shouldered, which meant the moment his composure cracked would likely be the only one.
Even an idiot would recognize it was an opportunity without equal.
'The timing of when he finds out is the problem, though.'
If he could manipulate Daniel's actions, he could control the timing to an extent, but it wasn't as easy as it sounded, and with the watchful eyes of the Duke present, he couldn't move recklessly anyway.
Rather than reach out to the Revolutionary Army at the risk of exposure, Cruel resolved to respond flexibly to the situation as it unfolded.
[Whether the message arrives when Deon is in the Empire, or when he's away from his seat.]
The message arriving while Deon was present would be ideal, but it didn't matter if it didn't.
The primary objective was to pit the Revolutionary Army against the Duke. The secondary objective was to stop its leader from personally taking Deon's life. Those two premises were the conditions that governed the latter.
Contrary to his detached state of mind—and as if the heavens were lending a hand—the message arrived when Deon was in the Empire, present at a banquet hall close enough to reach out and touch.
Cruel, who had been watching his younger brother with a complicated expression after the boy had caused a scene, taken a sharp turn for the worse, and coughed up blood, eventually let out a faint sigh.
'I'm sorry to Deon, but you have to seize an opportunity when it comes.'
Your ruined physical condition only hardened my resolve.
I intend to stop the leader of the Revolutionary Army from laying a hand on your life personally, so please understand.
He forced his reluctant mouth open.
"Go and tell Deon. Tell him, just for today, not to wander the streets for nothing and to go straight home."
That child had never listened to a single word I said since 'that day,' so he would probably go out onto the streets again this time too.
He had to move faster than Deon. Cruel threw on his robe and hastily relocated.
"That child... Near that man, you will hold a conversation about the festival and mention Day Street to the east. That's all."
"You'll really give us money just for that...?"
"Yes."
From the moment the information had come in, the Revolutionary Army leader's movements were being reported in real time. Currently, he was said to be wandering Day Street in a dazed state.
He had to make him cross paths with Deon. In that sense, guiding the child's movements was not difficult.
Cruel's plan was simple.
'The core: showing the dazed Revolutionary Army leader someone who looks 'on the verge of death' coughing up blood, causing him to overlay the image with his mother.'
And thereby make him desperate.
'The reason he created the Revolutionary Army was, I believe, to show his ailing mother the ideal she dreamed of, made real, before she passed away... Wasn't that it?'
Considering that, it would be strange if he didn't grow desperate.
But to carry out a great undertaking, he would have to meet the Duke, his greatest supporter. The Duke would oppose it. The Duke's reason for allying with the Revolutionary Army was to keep them in check, not to offer genuine support.
Perhaps, upon seeing Daniel whose mind was half gone, he would let his guard down, reveal his arrogant nature, and try to suppress him.
No, he would definitely do that.
'Because the Duke is arrogant.'
Cruel had watched him up close for no small amount of time.
And so he could guarantee it. The Duke's weakness was his arrogance.
Arrogance invited carelessness, so surely it would crack the mask he wore and reveal a gap. The sharp-eyed Revolutionary Army leader could not possibly miss it.
'He'll seek a way to decisively break free of the Duke.'
He was a clever one, so he would quickly realize he couldn't get away without incurring some damage.
What followed was up to the Revolutionary Army leader. However, Cruel, who had thoroughly investigated him and understood his tendencies, could roughly predict what choice he would make.
Which was why he had moved so boldly.
'...And in "showing someone who looks on the verge of death coughing up blood," the choice of "who" that someone is determines the success or failure of the secondary objective.'
If that 'someone' could be Deon, it would be best. If not, he could just send one of the candidates he had chosen beforehand.
If there was a reason he had deliberately chosen Deon... Cruel knew Daniel to be a softer person than one might think.
'Especially if he encounters him while still shaken by the shock of seeing his own mother cough up blood, then no matter the target—even Deon Hart—he won't be able to take his life, at least for that one day.'
Since he couldn't stop the organization called the Revolutionary Army from targeting Deon Hart altogether, he was working on their leader personally.
The man likely wouldn't live much longer, but it would be better to stop him from targeting the child, even just until then.
Because it's these little things that ultimately decide a person's life or death.
[The best possible outcome is if the image of the child coughing up blood sears itself so deeply into his mind that Daniel personally finds himself unable to take Deon's life afterward.]
[The minimum would be that, upon encountering him after that day, he at least hesitates to kill. That alone is sufficient.]
[The worst-case scenario is that he lets him pass safely only on the exact day the panic hits, and then tries to kill him without any lingering hesitation upon meeting again afterward...]
The last scenario would mean his efforts were wasted, but looking at the big picture, there was no harm in trying.
Above all, even in the worst-case scenario that presumed failure, that child Deon would ultimately return safely.
And so he made the attempt.
"Cough."
"...?!"
After giving money to several passersby to guide the child's steps, the paths of the boy and the Revolutionary Army leader finally overlapped. Cruel, not missing the hard-won opportunity, aimed for the moment they brushed past each other, drove a suitable impact into Deon's back, and shoved him forward.
Blood burst from Deon's mouth, and the startled Daniel floundered briefly before hoisting Deon onto his back.
Cruel watched the scene from a short distance away, and only turned his back once they vanished from sight.
'The seeds have all been sown.'
He was a little worried about his blood-vomiting younger brother, but judging by the Revolutionary Army leader's attitude, he'd likely be thrashing about trying to save him instead, so it would be fine. The treatment would be done in secret, and even if they were discovered and his comrades argued they had to kill him, the child would ultimately return alive.
As he'd said before, the leader whose reason was clouded couldn't kill Deon, just for today, and his comrades, guilty of hiding their mother's hemoptysis, would ultimately have no choice but to relent to him.
'Let us return.'
Whether a seed grew or not didn't depend on whether the sower lived or died, so even if Cruel Hart were dead and gone, it would germinate on its own.
So now, let us return.
'I must carry on my daily life.'
Because the Duke was still aiming for the child's life.
It was time to look at reality again and live.
***
"The last breakwater has collapsed!"
The Calamity's blindfold was gone! Soon the Calamity would open its eyes!
In the deep night of a small mountain village, the senile old sorceress who had been gazing at the stars suddenly shouted. Ignoring her granddaughter's pleas to calm down, the booming cry eventually woke the villagers from their sleep, and lights began to flicker on in every house, one by one.
People emerged, rubbing their eyes. Gazes tinged with faint irritation turned toward the granddaughter attending the old woman—Ran—as if demanding an explanation.
"We have to move the village!"
"...What is all this about?"
"...For once, Grandmother is right. We must hurry and relocate."
It was an abrupt declaration in the dead of night.
But the villagers, having once before preserved their lives during the Eight-Year War by moving the village on the old sorceress's advice, did not argue about what nonsense it was. Instead, they studied Ran's expression.
The face of the woman who was soothing her grandmother while examining the stars in the night sky was rather pale.
"...Where must we go?"
"Esperanes!"
"When must we move?"
"Within a week!"
Should they be grateful it wasn't first thing tomorrow?
Still, the time was insufficient all the same.
"There isn't enough time to move as a whole village... Didn't we also have to erase all traces like during the Eight-Year War? If you could just give us a little more time to prepare..."
"No! The Calamity will come here first, before it begins to act in earnest!"
"But..."
"Heavens! No!"
"Wait, everyone, please calm down."
The one who calmed the atmosphere that seemed to be overheating was, as expected, Ran.
She clasped her grandmother's hand tightly and turned to look at the villagers, who wore expressions of difficulty and awkwardness.
"It certainly is sudden. If we could add three days, making it ten days, would that be acceptable?"
"Ran!"
"If it's ten days..."
She confirmed their nodding heads, then turned her gaze back to her grandmother, who looked sulky.
"Don't worry too much."
"Ran, but..."
"Even if we do encounter it, it will be coming here before it begins to act. No one will die."
"...Very well. You must have some idea of your own..."
As if persuaded, the grandmother's intensity subsided. Ran supported her grandmother, who seemed utterly drained after shouting in the middle of the night, and bowed her head to the villagers.
"My apologies for the disturbance so late at night. We shall withdraw now, so everyone please go back inside and rest."
***
By some means, the King of Sanguk reportedly persuaded the monarchs of other minor kingdoms to make them vassal states. The Kingdom of Reweche, not to be outdone, had also placed the Taehon Kingdom under its wing, promising material aid and protection...
'And so, the human world kingdoms have been reduced to four.'
The Empire, Sanguk, Reweche, Esperanes.
For the demon-race, who welcomed humans fighting among themselves, this consolidation of power without bloodshed would be far from welcome. The monarchs of those two kingdoms had probably been aiming for exactly that.
"Butler, the cleaning of all floors is complete."
"Well done. I'll take a look around, so you go on in and rest."
Rememver continued his thoughts as he walked down the corridor.
The Empire was currently in an uproar for a different reason. Deon Hart, Honorary Marquis and the Empire's third Hero, had vanished.
Was it betrayal, or had his personal safety been threatened by someone? Opinions were divided even within the Empire, as neither possibility could be easily confirmed.
And because of that, just as now,
"Butler."
"Ah, Lady Rien. What is the matter?"
"Do you... truly not know where our lord has gone either?"
"How could this old man know what even Lady Rien does not?"
Many people came to him like this, asking about Deon Hart's whereabouts.
How could a mere butler managing a mansion know the whereabouts of a man that even a knight bound to him by master-servant ties was ignorant of?
And yet, perhaps because of his characteristically enigmatic air, Rememver simply remained silent in the face of the constant questioning.
Dan, who had been quietly observing the situation, spoke carefully.
"He even left behind his own knight order... Could it have been against his will after all?"
"...If it were those bastards, even I would have abandoned them, so that holds no credibility."
Hearing Rien's words, Rememver wore a benevolent smile, as if looking at a beloved grandchild's tantrum.
"Do you really think so?"
"..."
Rien shut her mouth as if struck silent.
She knew that, however much Deon Hart acted on the outside as if he loathed them and pushed them away, beneath it lay a strange trust and affection.
'Though it seems the trust outweighs the affection.'
She turned her head and gazed out the window. In her view came the Murderer Knight Order, huddled together in small groups, their demeanor recently drooping, perhaps due to their lord's disappearance.
...She had been quite displeased with how they normally caused trouble all day long, but seeing them droop like drenched dogs now was displeasing in its own way.
'I've grown attached to them too, it seems.'
...More importantly, where in the world was their lord?
Looking at them, she felt her own mood sinking. Rien deliberately thought of other things and averted her eyes from the knight order members.