Chapter 205
Chapter 205
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 205
Chapter Title: D-6
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Neigh!
The carriage rocked violently. It was the middle of a pitch-black night, and with the rain pouring down in sheets, the horses' frantic gallop only added to the unease. Romandro peered anxiously out the window, where he couldn’t see even an inch ahead.
“Barsabe… is she really dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Damn. We weren’t even that close, but it still sits wrong with me. Probably because saving Vivianna was her last act. Berik will be torn up when he wakes. Best to keep it quiet for now. Sigh, tsk tsk. Another young talent gone too soon.”
“…She probably has no family.”
“Ah, right. She’s been living alone since Petreio died.”
The site where the body had been found wasn’t far from the city center, on the outskirts. Guessing the path, it seemed they hadn’t been able to head straight from the [Mailly Daily] building toward the palace and had taken a detour. Likely to avoid dragging innocent imperial citizens into it, they’d stuck to the alleys while fleeing.
Ian rested his chin on his hand, staring at the rain streaming down. She had died for the Empire. For such a soul, this final night felt awfully grim.
Splash!
The wheels cut through a puddle. It was a distance that would normally take less than an hour, but various adverse conditions had delayed them by thirty minutes. Far off, a hazy light came into view.
“We’re here!”
“Careful! The road’s slick from the rain!”
It was the lantern light held by the guards. The coachman reined in slowly, and Romandro hopped out first, holding an umbrella. It was useless against the downpour—his hair and shoulders were soaked in seconds.
“Good evening. I’m the security officer for Chetur District 2.”
“Ian Hielo of the Magic Department.”
“An honor to meet you. This way, please.”
The guard bowed politely and led the way with the umbrella. Beneath a makeshift tent, familiar faces appeared. Knights from the Imperial Palace Guard and Jaret. Some had their backs turned, smoking cigarettes, while others crouched by the body. Jaret simply stood there, staring.
“Captain Jaret.”
“……”
The silence was heavy and cruel, colder than the pouring rain. Jaret, drenched to the bone, greeted Ian. The guilt of having lost a close friend and his daughter weighed on him—it seemed to be breaking the man.
“Remove the cloth.”
“It’s, uh, not a pretty sight.”
“…Remove it.”
At Ian’s firm command, the guard pulled back the wet cloth. Romandro squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look, and Ian furrowed his brow.
“This is…”
Horrible. The mangled chunks, like rotten meat, stood out starkly. It was easy to see why they couldn’t identify her. The face was unrecognizable.
“As you can see, identification is impossible. We only know it’s a woman in her early twenties. If not for the Imperial Palace Guard uniform, she’d have been processed as an unclaimed body.”
Drip, drip.
The patter of rain filled the gaps in the guards’ words. It was so fierce it could drown out even someone’s sobs.
“Berik came back just as mangled.”
Jaret noticed the body’s wounds matched Berik’s. He finally covered his face and turned away. Romandro placed a gold coin on the body as a token of condolence.
“Lord Romandro.”
“Sniff, yes?”
Romandro was already sniffling and crying. He wiped his nose and turned to Ian.
“Do you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“When we interrogated Petreio in Hielo territory.”
“I didn’t see it. You and Berik handled it alone, didn’t you? Sniff! Knight, your sacrifice upholds Bariel. Thank you. Farewell!”
At the mention of Petreio, Jaret reacted, though he looked puzzled as to what Ian was getting at.
‘The face is crushed, sure, but more than that…’
It was melted. Like when Petreio had used his poison ring. Ian nodded to the guard.
“You.”
“Yes?”
“Put your finger in the corpse’s mouth.”
The sudden order left the guard horrified, frozen in place. Even an intact body was off-putting, let alone this grotesque one? But Ian didn’t retract the command, and as the Palace Guard members pressured him with their gazes, he had no choice. He pulled on his gloves tightly, screaming internally.
“L-Like this?”
“Ian, what are you doing? Don’t dishonor Barsabe further. It’s a matter of her honor.”
A Palace Guard stepped forward pleading, but Ian brushed him off firmly.
“Deeper. Deeper.”
“Ughhh. L-Like this?”
“Are all the teeth intact?”
“Mm. Hold on.”
Suppressing his nausea, the guard probed the corpse’s teeth with his fingertips—incisors, molars, canines, and back molars.
“Yes. All intact.”
“The back molars are intact?”
Romandro, who’d been dabbing his tears, asked in surprise.
At that odd reaction, Jaret sensed something was off, though he didn’t know why. He was unaware Barsabe had lost her back molars after getting beaten by Berik.
Only her roommate knew that, but he was on duty at the emperor’s chambers and absent.
“What do the back molars have to do with anything?”
At the Guard’s question, Romandro shouted excitedly.
“Y-You don’t know? Well, it’s not something to spread around! A while back, Berik yanked out Barsabe’s back molars! Or well, smashed them! That’s why Berik called her ‘Back Molars.’”
“I-Is that true?”
“I swear on the gods! My wife, who saw Barsabe last, heard about those molars too.”
“T-Then this body is…”
“Not Barsabe.”
Ian denied it flatly. Her comrades let out small, involuntary cries of joy.
Barsabe was still alive! Still alive!
This wasn’t Barsabe!
They patted each other’s shoulders, sharing quiet relief, like they’d come back from the dead themselves.
The guards who’d been listening asked as they properly lifted the cloth.
“Then who is it?”
“I think Barsabe did this to the face. The poison from the ring Petreio used for his suicide causes this reaction. And the uniform is hers, right?”
“Yes. It has Barsabe’s name engraved.”
“She mutilated the body and dressed it in her clothes.”
Barsabe’s actions began to take shape, piece by piece. Jaret, deep in thought, muttered a question.
“Why?”
“To end the chase.”
Ian looked around. Being the outskirts, it was lined with manual labor factories. Few residences, but ideal for storing goods. The Palace Guard followed his gaze.
“There were four in black armor. Barsabe knew she couldn’t fight them head-on, so she kept running. To stop the pursuit, they needed her ‘death.’ Where was the body found?”
“Yes. Buried in that trash heap over there.”
“Not immediately visible, but a spot where it could be discovered soon. If the enemy killed her, they’d have hidden the body better.”
Boom! Thud!
Flash!
The rain grew even heavier, thunder and lightning crashing, briefly illuminating the dark surroundings. Ian’s clear features glistened wetly.
“But the body was found within a day, and here we are.”
“You mean Barsabe called us here?”
“What would be here worth…”
It was Barsabe’s signal. A sign of dire straits, that she couldn’t move easily. Watching smoke rising from various spots, Ian murmured.
“That’s what we’ll find out starting now. Do you all think Barsabe killed an innocent citizen to fake her death and escape?”
“No way!”
She was a knight. One who had pledged her sword to the palace and her beliefs. She’d sooner be trampled by the enemy than kill an innocent and butcher them for a chance. Everyone present was certain of that.
“Barsabe isn’t that kind of person!”
“Good. Then it’s settled. By Barsabe’s standards, this corpse deserved to die.”
Deserved to die. That meant one of Haiman’s underlings. Digging deeper, one inside the black armor. One Guard wiped rain from his face in confusion.
“I-I don’t understand. What the hell is going on…”
“I don’t know either. Not until we hear it from Barsabe herself. To sum up—”
Romandro cleared his throat, slyly retrieving the gold coin from the body and wringing out his soaked handkerchief. The downpour had rendered umbrellas pointless.
Splashhhh.
“Barsabe is nearby. And something’s in Chetur District 2.”
Unlike the guards swallowing nervously, the Palace Guard’s expressions hardened fiercely. They’d grasped that their comrade was still alive.
Jaret, head bowed, muttered lowly.
“All together.”
“All together!”
Snap!
The drenched Guards placed hands over their hearts in the palace salute. They all felt their hearts pounding beneath their palms. The hopeful beat that Barsabe lived.
“We search from Chetur District 1 to 4. Priority: secure and rescue Barsabe.”
Snap!
Splash!
Water sprayed from their disciplined steps. The guards retreated with spears in hand, gasping and covering their mouths.
These weren’t mere palace escorts. They were the godlike warriors who served closest to His Majesty, guardians of the Empire.
Bzzz. Zzz.
Sword-Mages all, differences in ability aside. Jaret, unofficially acknowledging the black armor’s link to Haiman, added to his orders.
“If connected to House Haiman, report even the smallest detail. If anyone obstructs, subdue without hesitation. Remember: we are Bariel’s heart.”
They guarded the Emperor, dignity upon dignity. To think they could touch their kin Barsabe and get away—supreme arrogance. Those who stabbed the heart would pay with their own.
Snap!
Clatter! Splash!
After the final salute, they scattered like lightning. Only the water trails on the roadside marked their path. Silence enveloped the area in an instant.
The guards awkwardly addressed Ian.
“M-Minister. Should we request backup too?”
“…No. You guard the body here.”
If Haiman was using this as an armor hideout, even the security guards couldn’t be trusted. Their reactions suggested otherwise, but… better to move as discreetly as possible.
Ian brushed back his wet hair and turned to Jaret.
“I’ll request reinforcements from the palace.”
“Please do.”
One of the Three Great Commanders, Riama, had been hit too. She’d taken out over ten armors dying, but it meant the enemy’s forces were formidable. Best to bring in Beols as well.
Shing.
Jaret drew his sword and slowly walked into the dark alley. His footsteps were silent in the rain. Like the eerie silhouette of a ghost.
Dong—doooong—
Clatter!
Then, faintly, the clock tower tolled in the distance. Signaling past midnight. Thus passed another night. The Imperial Palace Guard charged through the rain.
To rescue their comrade, Barsabe.