Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: To the Center
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Fate doesn't take long to change. Just like how Karenna, which had tasted hell from the bandit attack, could promise peace by the time the dawn moon set.
"Bandits? They raided their hideout?"
"I don't know. I heard it from a friend in the guard unit, but that's what happened."
"A pursuit squad must've chased them during their retreat!"
"Doesn't seem like it. Word is, mercenaries came separately."
"Mercenaries? Did we even have the tax money to hire mercenaries?"
"Whatever it was, doesn't that mean all the bandits are dead now? Yeah? Except for that one leader!"
"Yeah, that's the important part! Damn bastards. If they were gonna die, they should've done it last night and saved us the trouble!"
"Enough. What's done is done. It means we'll be safe from now on. The guard unit finally got to shine after all this time."
"I told you, it wasn't the guard unit. It was outsiders."
"Outsiders? If there's outsiders in Karenna right now with that kind of skill..."
The townsfolk, gathered in small groups mulling over last night's nightmare, trailed off. They must have all thought of the same procession of carriages at the same time. The innkeeper had been overjoyed about the big-spending guests.
"Those guys?"
"They didn't look ordinary, but how could they take down a whole bandit gang..."
They slowly turned their heads toward the center of the small town. It was the direction of the inn where the outsiders had stayed.
Meanwhile, while the guard unit moved the bodies, Ian's group retrieved their carriage and brought it back to the inn. They'd lost a couple of horses, but it could have been worse.
"Lord Romandro. Have you checked all the luggage?"
"Yes. All the documents are here too, not a single one missing. Haah, all the tension's gone now."
He'd taken every box out, flipped through them thoroughly. Romandro gave a thumbs-up with a truly satisfied expression.
"I'm glad. We didn't let it drag on more than a day."
They had planned to leave Karenna early in the morning, but with new horses and coachmen to procure, they'd probably set off late morning. Ian asked Romandro and his men to handle the sorting and entered the inn. The staff was mopping the bloodstained inn floor.
"Hey, Ian. Aren't you hungry?"
In the midst of it, Berik sat boldly, tearing into meat and bread. Across from him sat Hasha. Sharing a single plate looked perfectly natural.
"You eat plenty. You used a lot of energy."
"Ahaha. If you say it like that, I can't refuse."
Drag!
"Lord Ian. The guard captain has brought the mayor."
"That's quick. Let them in."
No sooner had Ian spoken than the mayor rushed into the inn, baring his crown and bowing deeply. He looked at a loss, waist bent. The mopping staff froze in surprise too.
"Ah, hello. I'm Onyx, mayor of Karenna."
He was a plump, short man. His collar was disheveled, his face flushed, and his voice shrill with excitement. Ian quietly sized him up from head to toe.
"Do we need separate introductions?"
"No, sir. I've been informed. You're nobles heading to the New Year's banquet. And we received word that a palace advisor is with you."
Ian fell silent for a moment. Only Berik, munching away behind him, tilted his head curiously. The others felt crushing pressure, their minds in chaos.
"While bandits invaded and trashed the town, what exactly were you doing, Mr. Mayor?"
"I-I'm sorry. As I mentioned, there was an issue in another town..."
"Come closer."
At Ian's command, the mayor hesitated and took a step forward. This much? Or a bit more? Unsure of the proper distance, the moment he raised his head.
'Gasp.'
He met Ian's green eyes. The rare beauty was shocking enough, but he was far younger than expected, leaving him speechless. To hold a noble title at that age. He suddenly thought the world was unfair.
"You reek of alcohol."
"That's..."
He was done for. His luck had run out completely.
Not only had the raid happened while he was deep in his cups, but now he'd been caught by a noble and a central official. The mayor rubbed his forehead on the floor repeatedly, pretending to apologize, hoping the blood smell might mask it.
"I-I-Important family gathering, just one drink, and it led to this. Truly sorry."
Ian shifted his gaze from the mayor to the guard captain.
In truth, when detecting lies, it was more effective to watch the expressions of those nearby rather than the person themselves. The liar desperately fakes a face to hide the truth, but the listener nearby is relatively less tense.
'It's a lie.'
The guard captain's mouth twitched oddly.
Not crying, not smiling, but biting his lip in embarrassment. Ian crossed his arms and clicked his tongue.
"Shut your mouth. The alcohol stench reaches here. According to Karenna's laws, what happens to captured bandits?"
At the mention of alcohol, the mayor flinched and covered his mouth. He recalled Karenna's laws and carefully answered.
"...Death is certain, but under Karenna's city laws, those guilty of looting and murder, especially in groups, are punished with flogging."
Whipping the back, waking them when they pass out to whip again, repeating until flesh is gone—showing living hell. Only when their breath thins to a thread does the gallows rise.
"Good. I have business with the bandit leader, so finish up here and head to the jail."
"J-Jail?"
"Problem?"
"Uh..."
The mayor's face turned troubled. But he quickly shook his head.
"No, sir! In the meantime, I'll prepare coachmen and horses for your departure."
His attitude wasn't bad. Ian turned his back, signaling he could leave, and the mayor retreated, tension unbroken.
Drag!
"Whew."
His heart felt like it had dropped to the floor and back up. The guard captain handed him a drink for comfort.
"Still, good that he's busy with the New Year's banquet. He said they're leaving by late morning."
"Exactly. If it was a demotion instead of promotion, we'd be in trouble. Young, but what a temper. Heading for a title appointment?"
"I think they're war heroes."
The guard captain still couldn't believe Berik's prowess. How could one man wipe out that many bandits? The mayor grumbled in agreement, wiping cold sweat.
"If they use magic, it could be."
"You mean those who investigated Danil before?"
"Yeah. Anyway, I can't deny we have nothing to say to them. If the advisor files a report, it'll be real trouble. He wants to see the bandit leader—do you know why?"
The mayor asked, but the guard captain had no idea.
Ian hadn't specifically mentioned the undead. It could complicate a simple bandit case, and if Wesley somehow learned of Hasha's existence, it would cause all sorts of issues.
"If it's business, probably just one thing."
"Yeah, figured."
Lost words, lost coachmen, lost a good night's sleep. A lofty noble lord wouldn't let that slide—that was the conclusion.
"No choice. I'll flog him personally."
"We'll prepare."
"Make flesh fly off in strips, yeah. That'll vent some anger."
They'd lost points with the guard; this was to score some back. Completely misguided, but no one noticed.
* * *
Berik patted his full belly with a satisfied grin. He'd moved so much without dinner; of course he was starving. As the inn interior was roughly cleaned, Ian looked at Hasha and spoke.
"So. What will you do now, Hasha?"
-Grandma's gone, bodies are handled, so I should head back to Astana. No other options now, really.
"Grandma was the faction leader."
Ian recalled the old woman in the photo and pieced it together. A faction leader would have allies, but plenty of enemies too. There must be a reason she hadn't returned to Astana to avoid Wesley.
-So, about that—could you take me to the capital? Gotta go through there for Astana anyway.
"Once in the capital, what will you do as a dog?"
At Ian's quiet question, Hasha clamped his mouth shut. Truly bleak and awkward situation. Ian lightly stroked his nape and proposed.
"I'll take you to the capital and help you get a ride to Astana. In return, I want to notarize and record what happened to you."
"Going together? Ah, the carriage is cramped."
"Berik. Just don't sprawl out."
Hasha's eyes sparkled. Berik belched loudly, not hiding his displeasure.
"Also, remember my name forever."
Meaning, on the day of Hasha's true death, remember who helped him and their name. Hasha murmured as if carving it into his heart.
-Ian.
"Yes. Good."
-I! An!!
Hasha wagged his tail like he might fly off, smacking Berik's arm repeatedly. No matter how much Berik swatted, he persisted.
"Not much time left to depart. Pack properly if there's anything."
Morning had broken. Aim was to leave before lunch, at least. At Ian's words, Hasha bolted outside.
Thud!
Woof! Woof!
"Dogs make dog sounds naturally, huh. Burp."
"Berik. Stop eating and come on."
"That was the missed dinner, now breakfast! Hey? Breakfast!"
Ian ignored him and stepped out to the street. With visibility clear, Karenna's devastation looked even more horrific. Leaving the two heading to the jail, townsfolk awkwardly approached.
"Um..."
A man filthy with dirt and dust scratched his nose and bowed.
"Heard about it. You caught the bandits."
"You saved us at night—how can we repay you?"
"Thank you! Here, it's not much, but..."
"Ah, no nee—"
The townsfolk bypassed the refusing Ian and went to Berik. Stunned by the sudden welcome, he grinned wide and nodded repeatedly.
"Thank you! For saving us!"
"Of course. I saved you. Yep. Hehehe! I did more work than the master."
"Huh? You have a master?"
"Ah. Yeah, that blond guy over there!"
"Then he saved us!"
"Thank you!"
At Berik's words, thanks shifted instantly. Stunned, Berik gaped, and Ian smiled kindly en route to the jail.
"Ian!"
"Hurry up."
"Man, seriously. Ridiculous. I did everything!"
Berik whined, trotting after Ian. At the jail, Ian followed the pre-informed guard's guidance inside.
"Ah! You're here!"
The mayor, sweat-drenched, held a bloody whip. He bowed obsequiously, proudly showing the bandit's body. Looked like one solid lashing.
"I gave him a real scolding. He passed out, but if you want, you can whip more!"
Ian looked at the unconscious bandit leader and asked incredulously.
"I have questions, so what good is knocking him out?"
"Huh? That is, what..."
"You must eat your wits with your booze."
"No, I thought..."
Not that? The mayor paled again, eyes darting. Ian clicked his tongue at the rising sun outside and the fainted bandit. So much to do...
"Bring paper."
"Yes? Yes!"
Ian wrote Romandro's estate address on the paper and instructed.
"Interrogate the bandit as soon as he wakes and send a reply. Ask 'how the blue-haired kid tailed him.' Deadline: a fortnight."
In a way, it worked out.
He'd hidden it even with Berik's sword at his throat, so no easy answers. With torture experts here, they'd extract a confession somehow.
"If I don't get your letter by then, I'll report your negligence to the palace. And if you blab instead of staying quiet, I'll return personally."
Ian handed the paper and nodded. Return means death that day—do your job right. The mayor hiccupped, taking it with both hands.