Chapter 152
Chapter 152
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 152
Chapter Title: Illegal Slaves
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Boom! Thud!
Amid the intensifying commotion, Romandro finally rose from his seat. He pressed his ear flat against the door, eyes rolling wildly. It was clearly a chaotic mess of curses and crashes.
Romandro called out to Ian in dismay.
“Th-this is Berik, right?”
What if it wasn’t Berik, but some other problem? What if the slaves had escaped and were fighting? Their own safety, sitting here in the office for a slave purchase, would be in jeopardy.
But Ian calmly rummaged through the desk and drawers, nodding.
“It is. Even though the mana’s gone now, I can definitely sense it’s Berik’s.”
“Th-then that’s a relief.”
Crash! Rattle!
“Aaack!”
At that moment, the door flew open. Romandro jumped in fright and tumbled backward. The one who’d opened it was Berik, his hair a wild mess. He grinned broadly at Romandro and Ian.
“IanIanIan!”
“Oh, Berik. Long time no see.”
“Ah, I really suffered, suffered so much! It was total hell!”
“You bastard! I’ll kill you!”
“Roast a whole pig the second we get back.”
“Fine. If you wrap things up properly.”
Thwack!
A slave trader swung a sword at Berik’s back. But he casually ducked his head to the side, evaded, then pivoted smoothly and slammed a fist into the man’s face.
“By the way, Berik. Why did you call for us? You seem to be handling it all alone without any trouble.”
“Ahh. That’s because of Hasha.”
—Lord Ian! Lord Ian!
Hop!
At that moment, a white dog darted between Berik’s legs and leaped into Ian’s arms. Ian set down the documents he’d been looking at, picked up the dog, and slowly stroked its nape.
“Hasha. You’re safe?”
—Lord Ian, I’m sorry! I messed up and spoke human words in front of these fools! I thought they’d buy it if I just panted like a dog, but no, they caught on right away! Damn it, I’m so frustrated!
“Easy now. Calm down. As long as you’re safe. Hasha, I have a lot to tell you.”
—I feel the same. Ian. Before that, I asked Berik to call you because…
As Hasha spoke, five or six people shuffled into the room through the door. Blue-haired with pointed ears. Ian immediately recognized them as Astana tribespeople.
“Berik, clean this place up quickly. You can kill them all, but leave the caravan leader Pakenus alive. Do you know his face?”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“Good. All you Astana people, come in.”
“I’ll be back! Ian!”
Creak. Slam!
At Ian’s gesture, the Astana people hesitantly entered the office. All of them had shackles on their ankles. Berik shut the door as if to say just leave it to him, and Romandro grabbed a fallen wooden stick as a weapon to guard the outside.
‘The Astana people were captured, so Hasha couldn’t escape alone. Even if Berik killed everyone and freed them from the shackles, foreigners and slaves like them could get caught by the guards and sold to another trader.’
“Hasha, calling for me was the right call.”
At Ian’s praise, Hasha’s tail wagged furiously, thumping the floor. They needed someone from the empire with authority who could handle the aftermath.
“And don’t be too shocked. Wesley is dead. More precisely, it’s accurate to say she self-destructed.”
—What did you just say?
Hasha’s tail drooped to a stop. The woman whose forbidden necromancy research had upended Hasha and her grandmother’s lives was dead? It was hard to believe.
“…Karenna’s mayor sent a letter.”
Ian slowly stroked Hasha’s back. Then he traced the incident from the beginning, explaining in detail how she had met her end.
Even in dog form, it was clear what emotions Hasha was feeling right now. The Astana people, who didn’t understand Bariel, grew restless in the heavy atmosphere and clutched each other’s hands.
“So, Hasha. You’re safe now. No one in Bariel threatens you anymore. Wesley is dead, so if there’s any lingering grudge, use it as fuel to move forward and live your life to the fullest. That’s the final way the living avenge the dead.”
At Ian’s comfort, Hasha lowered its head. Slowly, it nuzzled into Ian’s hand, rubbing gently.
Tears plopped down.
Ian willingly wiped them away with his sleeve.
—…Thank you.
“If you want, I can send you back to Astana soon. Will you go?”
Wesley’s death itself was proof of the forbidden necromancy. Otherwise, Gail wouldn’t have made the decision. Now, Hasha didn’t need to step up personally.
—I was just about to mention that. Do you remember? My grandmother was the head of the largest faction in Astana.
Hasha had wondered why her grandmother, who wielded such power, hadn’t returned home to escape Wesley, and why her Astana family hadn’t come looking for them. Now, it all made sense.
—I heard there was a massive earthquake in Astana while we were hiding from Wesley. These people were displaced by the disaster and got caught by slave traders. And with factions fighting for power amid the chaos, I need to hurry back and carry on my grandmother’s will.
“Earthquakes have been on the rise across the continent these past few years. I was even called to repair a great temple damaged by one before going to Bratz—no, Hielo.”
Romandro, who had been listening quietly, chimed in. Hasha’s dark eyes glistened wetly.
—Once I return, even if it’s not my original body, there should be a way to transfer my soul into human form. Ian. As my final request, please send me and these Astana people back home.
Hasha bowed its head. When it conveyed something in the Astana tongue, the others prostrated themselves too, pleading to Ian in their own languages.
“Hasha. I already promised you once. It’s in your memories, so how could I say otherwise? Enough, pull yourself together.”
—There’s one more thing. The Pakenus caravan traded undead to Karenna’s bandits. But no matter how I thought about it, I couldn’t figure out how they used my corpse for necromancy. Listening to these Astana people…
When the displaced Astana people were captured by the slave traders, they said their identities were checked repeatedly. And they placed special importance on whether they belonged to a faction that could use necromancy.
—It seems a necromancer passed on knowledge to these guys. He’s probably in the imperial palace. I don’t know if his goal is just profit or something else, but you should track him down and keep a close eye.
Boom! Bang!
At that moment, a loud crash erupted. Then silence. Footsteps approached, and the Astana people flung themselves flat on the floor, hands trembling.
Creeeak.
“Kyaaack!”
“Aaack!”
The Astana people screamed once at the blood-soaked Berik, and twice at the head of hair he was dragging. Meanwhile, Berik beamed as he tossed Pakenus forward.
“Ian, this guy the leader, right?”
“Yeah. Good job. What about outside?”
“Probably all dead.”
“…All?”
“Yeah. It just happened.”
From the way he sneaked a glance, it wasn’t “just happened”—he’d done it on purpose. As Ian narrowed his eyes, Berik just grinned sheepishly. After all, it’d been a week since they’d seen each other. Surely no scolding.
“…Fine. Good work.”
“Woo! Ian, I was seriously suffering? Following the signs leads to dead ends, backtrack and the path just cuts off. Didn’t eat properly for a whole week.”
“Why didn’t you just climb over the walls?”
“I did. That’s why I had to go even farther to shake the guards. You said not to kill them. Ah, it was so annoying!”
“…I can imagine.”
No wonder it took a week. Considering it took Ian less than a few hours by carriage from the palace, it was an astonishing display of fieldwork skill. Ian decided never to assign him pursuits again as he opened the last desk drawer.
—Brooch!
“Wear this at all times until you reach Astana.”
Ian fastened the brooch around Hasha’s neck, then glanced at the unconscious Pakenus. With all the caravan members dead, he pondered how to handle this one.
“Guards here! We got a disturbance report and—gasp!”
“Hey! Anyone inside?”
“What’s this? Oh god, they’re all dead.”
“No survivors? If anyone’s alive, respond!”
It was the guards. They were pushing through, stepping over blood-drenched corpses. As Ian moved to step out, Romandro blocked him this time.
“I’ll handle it. Ian, aren’t you about to become Magic Department Minister? Wouldn’t want any rumors complicating things. Leave it to me! I may not wield a sword like Berik, but I’ve lived off a pen in the palace my whole life!”
“Ooh, cool, Romandro!”
“You, wipe off that blood! Guards’ll think you’re a monster and charge.”
Berik snickered as he rubbed his face. The blood smears turned into streaks, making him look even more grotesque.
“We’ll talk details back at the mansion.”
—Yeah, that’s best. What about Pakenus?
“We’ll take him. Things to ask, and he might be useful. Berik, wrap him in cloth and carry him.”
“You’ll roast the pig right when we get back, master? I’m starving. Could just drag this guy.”
Berik staggered dramatically, groaning for show. The Astana people glanced nervously and offered to help, saying they’d carry him instead.
“…No booze for whoever carries him slung over.”
“Outta the way!!”
At Ian’s words, Berik slapped their hands away. He slung Pakenus over his shoulder and sprang up like it was nothing. Hasha, about to lead, paused and looked back.
—Ian. There are more slaves underground. What about them?
“Slaves?”
The Astana people lived in tribal harmony with nature. They knew of slavery in theory, but this was their first cultural encounter. But weren’t those caged behind iron bars humans, with their dignity?
Ian was about to say something when Romandro’s voice came from outside.
“Hey, don’t go inside! High-ranking palace officials are in there. If you see their faces, you’ll be in trouble—I’m telling you.”
One guard stopped short of entering the office hallway.
“There were illegally enslaved people, and we confirmed a fight broke out. Are these permitted slave traders?”
No way traders dealing with bandits had permits. And if traces of undead dealings were found, a few dead members wouldn’t be an issue—especially since they all seemed foreign.
“Uh, we’ll have to investigate that separately.”
“You’re Bariel guards—how did you not notice noble retainers kidnapped by illegal slavers? This is gross negligence! State your names and units.”
“No, advisor sir. With all the illegal immigrants here, you gonna check every one?”
“We know, but!”
And he slipped them some money discreetly. Demoted to this post meant they’d screwed up big—probably bribery charges. The guards eyed Romandro’s credentials and glanced around, exchanging looks.
“Then, submit a report to the guard station soon. We’ll verify the caravan’s legitimacy too. Illegal slaves, you say?”
“Yeah! Kidnapped ones!”
“Hmm. Got it.”
People dead, and they fold for a few coins. Romandro handed over the money while hiding his pounding heart. The guard scratched his head.
“All the illegal slaves were your household members, advisor sir?”
“Uh? Oh, yeah!”
“Understood. We’ll provide a carriage. Take the victims and head back for now. We’ll report after sorting the incident.”
All the slaves? Romandro turned in confusion, but Ian just shrugged as if to say, what’re you waiting for?