Chapter 51: Salvation Church (1)
Chapter 51: Salvation Church (1)
"......But, how!"
"Isn't that Deon Hart's choice? He must have had his reasons for making that decision, and even if something happens because of it, it will be his responsibility to bear."
As if it had nothing to do with him, a languid voice quietly settled down. Nemeseus was at a loss for words and couldn't continue for a moment.
There was no way it had nothing to do with him. If a sword broke, the aftermath was bound to reach the one who had wielded it.
Knowing full well that the Emperor could not possibly be unaware of that fact, Nemeseus still couldn't understand, and finally forced his reluctant lips to open.
"......Then Your Majesty may also have to share that responsibility."
"That doesn't matter. Is this not exactly what it means to be Emperor?"
"......."
"That was a joke. The look on your face was worth seeing."
The Emperor let out a low rumble from his throat. A sound like laughter swirled pleasantly in the depths of his throat.
It was absurd enough that a self-proclaimed tyrant should say something straight out of the textbook of a sage king, but to reveal such an undisguised expression...
Thinking that he needed to train him to hide his expressions, the Emperor slowly gave his answer to Nemeseus's words.
There was no grand reason.
It was a very simple matter.
"I am not so incompetent that I cannot cover for a single mistake of someone I cherish."
"......."
"Is that answer enough, General?"
He might not be a sage king magnanimous enough to forgive everyone's mistakes, but to those he cherished, he could be a sage king indeed.
Pouring the generosity, money, time, and power that should have been evenly distributed to other useless things instead onto a select few.
Emperor Eduardo had the power and capability to do so, and no one dared to object.
Therefore, short of a major incident like treason, most accidents could be handled.
But if that mistake turned out to be something he could not cover, then it would simply mean his own judgment had been wrong.
Even so, nothing would change. It would only add to the things he had to take responsibility for.
Besides, the likelihood of such a thing happening was clearly low.
There was no way he kept a dangerous person by his side without thinking.
"Then......."
"There is a leash."
Cruel Hart.
Thinking of Deon Hart's older brother, the Emperor smiled lazily.
[He even volunteered to be a comrade to the Hero, a role he never asked for, in order to annihilate his family. But why would he.......]
The conversation with Deon Hart, who had just returned from the Demon Realm and burst into the banquet hall covered in blood, began to fly wildly in all directions the moment Cruel Hart became the topic.
It was probably because he had only recently heard the news that Cruel had become a Hero, and his emotions were unregulated.
As if his pent-up emotions had exploded, the direction of his words veered off and his tone rose.
The voice that had been rising as if about to spill out at any moment suddenly died down the instant his eyes met the Emperor's.
He belatedly realized who was sitting before him.
The Emperor did not bother to point out his rudeness.
Because he knew exactly how extreme Deon Hart's feelings toward his family were. And how much that benefited him.
Hatred, murderous intent, rage.
From his perspective, they were the ones who had pushed a frail child barely fourteen years old onto the battlefield.
Over eight years rolling around battlefields, his hatred for his family grew like a snowball, and at last, when he was recognized for his feats in war and stood before the Emperor, he refused all rewards and asked for only one thing.
[Allow me to annihilate my family with my own hands.]
There was no reason to refuse.
The count house of Hart had served the royal family loyally for generations, but that held no great merit for one who had ascended the throne through a coup. In other words, there was no reason to protect them.
The untrustworthy House Hart, and Deon Hart as an individual who, if managed well, could be used as a fine sword.
[Good.]
Without hesitation, the Emperor sided with the individual.
Of course, it wasn't that he had granted it immediately. It would be better to resolve other matters at the same time, and if he was going to use him as a sword, it would be better to temper him more solidly, wouldn't it?
[However, I am a little doubtful whether you have enough value for me to abandon a 'house' and choose you, an 'individual.']
[......What must I do?]
[As it happens, the Hero is preparing to leave the Empire to face the Demon King.]
To go and face the Demon King as the Hero's comrade.
Though it was a little unsettling that it was the Duke's proposal, there was no better way to temper the sword that was Deon Hart.
The result was excellent.
He had even retrieved the body of the defeated Hero. Those who had opposed him for lacking a Hero's Fragment would now have no choice but to recognize him as a hero.
From the Emperor's standpoint, it felt as though he should give him something more.
However.
Contrary to the Emperor's desire not to see Deon Hart broken, he held fast to his original request instead of accepting money, land, and a title.
[Tonight, it seems the surroundings of Hart Count's residence will be very quiet. What do you think?]
[......I am grateful for Your Majesty's consideration.]
A promise was a promise, so the Emperor readily granted his request.
Once a decision was made, hesitation was useless. That very night, the Emperor secretly blocked off the area around the Hart Count's residence so that no outsiders could approach, and Deon Hart, unimpeded, slaughtered everyone inside the mansion.
The only unexpected point was that Cruel Hart was not in the mansion that day. And to make matters worse, he returned right while Deon Hart was carrying out the deed.
If he had been in the mansion from the start, or had come the next morning after everything was done, the story might have been different.
But such was fate: Cruel Hart witnessed with his own eyes Deon Hart murdering the household members, and survived.
It was a little different from expectations, but in the end, it became a good card to control Deon Hart.
The Hart annihilation incident had already drawn attention; if even Cruel Hart, one of the few survivors of that family, were killed, the repercussions would be considerable. How many people could protect him from that?
In the end, to kill Cruel Hart, one must not make an enemy of the Emperor.
'The reason Duke Illustar trusts and keeps Cruel Hart by his side is probably similar.'
To Cruel Hart, Deon Hart would be a leash.
Each being the other's leash—what could be more ridiculous?
Suppressing a sigh filled with complex emotions that threatened to escape, the Emperor waved his hand.
"So, let us not mention the matter of Deon Hart any further."
***
'Whoa, what's with all those shiny things piled up in the yard like that? Is it some kind of modern installation art? What if someone steals them?'
'Or is it a money flex? Trying to show off, "Look how rich we are"? Whose house is that, I'm jealous.'
'......What do you mean whose house? It's my house!!'
"What the hell is that!?"
"I never bought anything like that!"
'Could it be those knight order bastards causing trouble again? I need to beat them up right away.'
With the intent to rush over as soon as he identified the cause, he slammed the desk and stood up.
A few sheets of paper fluttered down, but the sight out the window was so impactful that they didn't even register.
Shiny things glittered, forming a small hill in his yard; a few sheets of paper were nothing.
Even while he was half out of his mind, the calm voice of an old man leisurely dug into his ears.
"They are rewards from His Majesty for catching the spy."
"I don't need th- Actually, it's too much. Send them back right now!"
"If you do that, your lordship's soul might return to where it came from, so this old man, out of loyalty, dares to oppose."
"......."
No matter what he said, the old man was like that.......
Thanks to that, his mind snapped back. Right, how would he feel if he refused what he'd taken the trouble to give? A tyrant would do anything, so let's just shut up and accept it.
'......If you're going to give me a reward, you could at least take back the Hart territory instead of this junk.'
Probably the reason he hadn't mentioned the reward for catching the spy in their conversation was that he had predicted this very thought. Damn, a tyrant with a good head too.
As if his throat were burning from pent-up frustration, he picked up the teacup on the desk.
'Still, the scent is nice.'
But he barely took a few sips before setting it down. For some reason, smelling this scent made him feel like he needed to use the restroom.
It was the very tea he'd drunk during teatime with the Crown Prince and the Princess. The Crown Prince had given it to him before he left the palace.
He couldn't bring himself to simply throw away the Crown Prince's gift, so as soon as he got home, he had just tossed it on the table in his room, and Butler Rememver had found it and often brought it with refreshments whenever he worked.
That wasn't the only thing Rememver brought.
Knock knock. A careful knock sounded. Rememver, who had opened the door, received something and approached, placing it on the desk.
On the tray was, unsurprisingly, a bowl of herbal medicine that looked bitter at a glance.
"It is time for your medicine."
"......Do I really have to take that?"
"It is from the imperial physician, no less. If anything, it's good for you, not harmful, so please take it. I have already checked for poison."
He had thought the physician was just being polite, but he really had sent a tonic to his residence. And it wasn't just a week or two's worth. It was enough for over a month, he'd say.
He was grateful, but he hated bitter things.......
Of course, his refusal didn't work on Rememver in the slightest.
He smiled faintly and held out the medicine. His actions were courteous, but was it just his imagination that he felt a silent pressure?
"But I'm full right now."
He was bloated from drinking tea.
"Take it anyway."
"......."
The medicine was terribly bitter.
As he frowned, a piece of candy popped into his mouth. He flinched in surprise and looked up to meet gently smiling silver-blue eyes.
'......This butler, really. I'm not a child.'
'But the candy is good. Strawberry flavor?'
He rolled the candy with his tongue and looked out the window again. Seeing the glittering things still piled up in the yard made his head ache.
That was the biggest problem. How should he deal with them?
He tapped the desk with his finger, then blankly opened his mouth.
"Rememver."
"Yes, my lord."
"I'll entrust half of those to you, Rememver. Use it for the mansion's budget. Save the other half separately."
"Yes, understood."
"Ah, set aside a portion separately. There's somewhere I need to use it."
"Yes, how much would you need?"
"Enough that it's not lacking for gathering information."
He pulled the bell cord and summoned a maid.
"Fetch Lady Rien."
To summarize briefly, the set-aside amount went into the hands of Lady Rien, the commander of the Murderer Knight Order and its only sane member.
The purpose was none other than to investigate information on the 'Salvation Church.'
Like the diligent knight she was, a few days later she came with two stacks of documents: one detailing where, how, and how much money she had spent, and the other with the information she had obtained.
And now, like this.
"The Salvation Church is a newly emerging religion expanding its influence mainly in the slums. They are gathering followers by distributing bread and water."
She was respectfully reporting the information she had found out before him.
"Unlike ordinary cults, they don't tell you to believe in a 'leader' or pay 'money.' They only say to believe in 'salvation'......."
'"Salvation"...... that's too abstract.......'