Chapter 47
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 47
"...Sigh."
Bathory snapped her fingers. The white-faced butler, who had been standing beside her without moving a muscle, nodded once.
"To think he'd go to a place like that… Does he even know what the situation is out here?"
It had been a few days since she first noticed the anomaly.
Bathory’s source of blood was the humans in the surrounding villages. Since blood had to be fresh, storing large quantities for long periods was difficult, making a real-time supply from the vicinity the most efficient method.
Fortunately, the villages near the Astrisha Forest, where Cheite Castle was located, were filled with good-quality blood. For Bathory, the blood of the pure and strong was the greatest delicacy, as well as the best suppressant for her sanity.
Bathory essentially treated the humans in the neighboring villages as her personal flock. In exchange for periodically abducting people, she protected the settlements around the Astrisha Forest from monsters.
It was a fair trade—though the vast majority of villagers lived their entire lives unaware of this fact.
And a few days ago, when Bathory's retainers went down to a village to select their sacrifices…
"...So you're saying the humans were wiped out."
"Wiped out is a bit vague. The village was soaked in blood, so they must all be dead, but there were no corpses. They had simply vanished. And…"
The problem was that this phenomenon hadn't occurred in just one village.
"The other nearby villages were exactly the same."
Every single human village in the area had been annihilated.
"In my opinion, this isn't something humans could have done."
After a brief pause, Bathory continued.
By mapping the timeline based on the thick, dried bloodstains left on the ground, the anomaly's 'path of advance' became clear. This meant it wasn't a sudden, random disaster.
The anomaly was moving steadily in a single direction, swallowing up the villages in its path one by one.
"And Hastin lies directly in its path."
Vanishing corpses. So many bodies, gone without a trace.
You'd have to be an idiot not to know what this meant.
"Undead…"
Melju answered this time. Bathory narrowed her eyes in agreement, a cold, bloody glint within them.
"But there aren't many entities capable of something like this."
Most of what were commonly called undead had no intelligence. Those with intelligence, like Dullahans or Liches, were high-ranking species that bore the special prefix 'Elder'.
And Elder Undead did not come into existence through ordinary means. Since the residents of the attacked villages possessed ordinary bodies and souls, they would only resurrect as mindless, low-ranking species, even if they were infected.
Mindless undead generally wander aimlessly. Normally, when a human village is completely overrun, the horde scatters in all directions like a disorganized mob.
For an army of the dead to move in unison with such consistency could only mean one thing: someone was leading them.
"Erebos."
The master of the dead, the Undead King Erebos.
Bathory finally uttered the name.
If the culprit was narrowed down by the ability to command the undead, the next step was to consider motive—whether they had a reason to sweep through human villages.
Through this line of reasoning, the name that ultimately emerged was the boss monster of 'Where Corpses Die', one of the Seven Great Evil Caves.
"There's no concrete evidence, but it's obvious that he's the one behind this."
Bathory lightly snapped her fingers again. The butler reappeared before her, presenting a fresh teacup he had prepared at some unknown point. The red liquid filling the cup sloshed gently.
If the one commanding the undead were a mere 'Elder Undead', there would be little need to worry.
Even Melju, who was currently a guest at the Primordial Core, was a Demon King. Most Elder Undead would melt away after a few fire spells.
However, if the leader was Erebos, the story was entirely different. This wouldn't be a simple matter of comparing military strength.
—Because it would trigger a turf war between the Great Evil Caves.
Not only had Erebos, the leader of a Great Evil Cave, encroached upon the territory of Cheite Castle—the Astrisha Forest—but he was now also threatening Hastin, which was under the domain of the Primordial Core.
It was practically a declaration of war against two of the Great Evil Caves.
This was not a situation anyone could handle lightly. Erebos was surely not foolish enough to have overlooked this fact.
He was definitely scheming something.
"Well, that's the gist of it. Even if I deal with my end, Hastin is still territory of the Primordial Core, isn't it? That's why I came to get Swallow's opinion. ...Sigh, but why is he pulling a stunt like this now of all times?"
"The timing was unfortunate," Rene said, forcing a smile.
Nursing a headache, Bathory asked cautiously, "So, when are those two coming back?"
"Well… Rene doesn't really know either. To be honest, I think it might take quite a while. Mr. Patrick is rather meticulous when it comes to his work."
Would those two really finish early and come back? Bathory shook her head. What difference does it make if both of them went? I can clearly picture Patrick handling all the work by himself.
They're probably off wasting time doing something stupid again.
With a small sigh, Bathory spoke.
"What about a monster to send as a messenger?"
"The dungeon is currently empty, so…"
"...Did you at least set up a contact network?"
"Rene believes in Lord Swallow."
No, could you please believe in someone actually trustworthy next time?
Bathory shook her head at the baffling state of the dungeon's management.
Lending her own retainers from Cheite Castle was out of the question. She was already short on forces while trying to secure her own dwindling blood supply.
Furthermore, no matter how casual their relationship, this was a matter where the 'Dungeon Bosses' had to act to maintain their respective domains.
While she could offer indirect help like this, she had to draw a clear line when it came to directly intervening.
"Then what are you going to do?"
Someone had to deliver the news. Having posed the question, Bathory looked back and forth between Melju and Rene.
Since that Demon King is staying here as a guest…
It was the duty of the Primordial Core's gatekeepers to block anyone heading to the deepest parts of the dungeon.
She had heard that the 116 Black Tentacles were not in a normal state. Rene would never leave the dungeon in the hands of a guest.
Bathory glanced at Rene's expression again. As if all too aware of her situation, Rene looked on the verge of tears.
It was only natural. She finally had the perfect excuse to go see Swallow, yet she couldn't leave. She was probably cursing the innocent 116 Black Tentacles right about now.
And the guest Demon King beside her was… shaking her legs uncontrollably.
"S-S-S-S-S-So, is this a situation where I must go? I-I-I guess it can't be helped…!"
She was trembling with joy.
Phase 4
Yes, more than a few things had been suspicious from the very beginning.
The Captain thought to himself, replaying the situation in his mind. Those two hadn't revealed a single thing about themselves from the start.
Just looking at the knight made that clear. His plate mail looked like it was from another era, and he didn't bear a single insignia that might hint at his identity. The man who claimed to be a knight hadn't even drawn his weapon.
The man in the shabby clothes was even more baffling. Contrary to the Captain's expectation that he was a necromancer, the man hadn't used black magic or necromancy once. He had subdued his comrades with the simplest of movements, barely budging from his spot.
It was a strength unbelievable for someone with such a slender build.
Suspicion meant danger, and these two were clearly dangerous.
Therefore…
"Damn it."
There had been no chance of winning from the start.
Muttering a quiet curse, the Captain collapsed to the ground.
The men who had lunged at Swallow and Patrick were completely wiped out. Every single attacker now lay sprawled on the ground.
It hadn't taken long to clean up the back-alley thugs.
"Looks like we're mostly done."
Only after knocking out the Captain did Patrick dust off his hands. The clank of his gauntlets striking each other seemed to mock the fallen men.
"That was a fierce battle. To think they could fluster me, even for a moment—they weren't half bad for humans."
"No, didn't you just trip over your own feet while fooling around…?"
"The very fact that they forced me to make a mistake proves their incredible skill. They were no ordinary humans."
No, they were extremely ordinary humans.
Swallow answered with a yawn instead.
Aside from Patrick suddenly falling over and getting mobbed by the thugs, cleaning up the situation had been relatively easy.
Once they had retrieved their shabby coat and ribs, the two finally breathed a sigh of relief.
With things settled, Patrick began rummaging through the Captain's pockets.
The scene looked remarkably like humans looting a monster's corpse for spoils.
The first thing to come out of the Captain's pocket was a gold coin—likely the one stolen from Swallow. It was also the emergency money Patrick always planted on the clumsy Swallow.
Not that there's anywhere to spend it in this town, anyway.
After pocketing the gold coin, Patrick continued to search the Captain's clothes. Quite a few items turned up. Most were cheap, easily obtainable magic reagents—a diverse assortment ranging from ones that exploded on contact to others that emitted light.
"This is quite refreshing. Impressive."
Patrick muttered to himself, amused. Knowledge of compounding reagents wasn't something one could learn by roughing it in the back alleys.
Which meant the Captain wasn't from around here.
Even in the battle just now, the moment a few of his men fell, the Captain had started using his head. He had blocked their vision, triggered explosions, and resorted to underhanded tricks until the very end, looking for any opening.
It was a classic 'fight to survive' style.
"...Well, I thought they might have a map of the town since they're thieves, but there's absolutely nothing of value. Rather than wasting more time, we'd be better off cleaning this up quickly. ...So, Boss, please don't lie down already."
"You should lie down too, Patrick. It's surprisingly cozy here."
"I tell you this every time, but would it kill you to at least pretend to listen when I speak?"
As if his business was finished now that he had retrieved his coat, Swallow, lying flat on the dirty ground, let out a long yawn.
It would be difficult to catch those who had already fled. Besides, they had no intention of killing everyone in the first place. A leaderless mob of thugs was powerless; they would disband on their own even without being pursued. Therefore…
I just need to deal with these guys.
Fewer than twenty men were sprawled on the ground. As Patrick pondered how to dispose of them, he recalled the pit he had spotted earlier.
"There's a place on the outskirts where corpses are piled high. Let's dispose of them there, Boss."
He was about to turn his head toward Swallow as he spoke.
"But first, let us welcome our young lady."
Patrick suddenly turned his head and added.
While still face down, Swallow also turned his head. Following Patrick's gaze, they saw a girl standing there.
A dirty girl whose pink hair stood out vividly even in the darkness of night.
The girl was walking toward Patrick. Though terror was evident in her every hesitant step, her eyes were fixed firmly on him. She did not back down. She was steadily approaching.
Tearful, dragging her trembling body forward.
"Th-That…"
"Rosalina!"
A voice chased after the girl. The figure that appeared behind her this time was a man.
A man too old to be a youth, yet as gaunt as an old man. The numerous scars covering his body spoke volumes of the hardships he had endured.
"T-Toth…"
The girl called the man's name. Unlike the man, who was panting heavily, her voice was so quiet it was barely a whisper.
Patrick merely let out a chuckle.
"Why do they keep coming out one after another like this?"
At Patrick's playful remark, Swallow scratched the back of his head. It had been the same when they met that guy named Ar in Riaze. For some reason, humans never seemed to show up all at once; they always had a habit of crawling out one by one.
In a lazy voice, Swallow said, "That's just how humans are."
"I'm sorry."
Those were the first words out of Rosalina's mouth.
This was her fault. This tragedy was the result of her acting on her own, doing something no one had asked her to do.
All of this was Rosalina's doing.
"I-I'm sorry."
The girl was out of her mind with fear.
Barely forcing her frozen limbs to move, Rosalina stepped forward. Her disheveled hair hid most of her face, but she was clearly on the verge of tears.
Toth was just as terrified, practically drenched in a cold sweat.
When Toth mustered his courage to call Rosalina's name once more, she turned her head and replied with a smile.
It was a forced smile.
Trying to smile while crying made her lips tremble violently.
"Toth… I'm sorry. I didn't know it would turn out like this. This time, it's definitely my fault. I'm the one who did wrong, so why are the others being punished…? S-So, let's apologize. No, I'll apologize. If I say I'm sorry, the knight will surely forgive us."