Chapter 49
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 49
And so it was.
Patrick glanced down at Swallow, who was sprawled out on the floor like a corpse, and spoke.
“So, Boss… what should we do now?”
“…Do I have to work, too?”
“Is that even a question?”
At Patrick’s words, Swallow’s eyes widened in panic. Sighing softly at the sight, Patrick continued.
“I think it would be best for you to stay here with the humans, Boss. I’m not telling you to just play around; I’m asking you to keep watch. Monitor their movements to make sure the back-alley residents don’t try anything funny, and build a rapport with them.”
“Huh? You want me to get friendly with humans?”
“We have no choice, Boss. Between a ‘knight clad in full plate armor’ and a ‘boss who looks like a beggar,’ who do you think seems more approachable? You don’t need to think too hard to figure that one out, do you?”
“I had a feeling you’d say something like that. More importantly, did you just call me a beggar?”
“In any case, Boss, you just need to get close to the humans here by any means necessary. For instance, acting as much like them as possible would be one way to build a sense of familiarity.”
Patrick said, smoothly brushing off Swallow’s question.
At the suggestion to act like the humans, Swallow racked his brain for the first time in a long while.
First, they probably spent most of the day sleeping. Even the ones who were awake were mostly in a daze, and their only form of exercise was loitering. A shred of motivation was nowhere to be found.
This was basically…
“So you’re telling me to just live like I normally do?”
“…I don’t know what you’re scheming, but it won’t be that simple. Don’t forget that we have to investigate the religion that handed out the rosaries, Boss. To do that, you have to build up enough of a rapport to approach them as a fellow believer.”
If they approached someone whose faith was so devout that they prayed even on the brink of death and said, “We suspect your religion, so let’s investigate it,” the person would obviously become hostile. If things went wrong, they might feed them false information or ruin the entire operation.
It was better to take the time and effort to approach them naturally, under the guise of being a believer.
Patrick stood up. As he did, he sensed someone approaching in the distance. It seemed he was getting up to conclude the “talk with the Captain” he had mentioned earlier.
“I’ll be doing some investigating on my own. Don’t just complain about how annoying it is, Boss. Put in some effort. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go back and rest, right?”
Leaving Swallow to nod a couple of times, Patrick took a step forward. Before leaving, he spoke one last time.
“Oh, and just in case, you must endure it even if the humans are highly wary of you. No matter how well you try to coax them, their wounds are still too fresh for them to think about trusting anyone. It will probably be quite difficult to get close to them.”
*
—It will probably be quite difficult to get close to them.
‘Difficult? What a joke.’
Believing Patrick had been a mistake.
Contrary to a certain someone’s claim that getting close to the humans would be difficult, it didn’t even take an hour for Swallow to break the ice. Furthermore, it wasn’t Swallow who spoke first, but the humans.
“Sir Knight, are you also a shadow knight of ‘Loono’s Mist’?”
“If you’re a knight of the Imperial Family, does that mean you came from Riaze? Sir Knight, is it true that Riaze is a land flowing with milk and honey?”
“That’s right! I heard food is so abundant there that it just rolls around on the ground, and the residents of Riaze can eat and live without working a single day!”
“Sir Knight, Sir Knight! Your companion is wearing armor, so why are you dressed like this?”
“Idiot, he’s in disguise! There’s no way he’d normally walk around dressed like that!”
Swallow was bombarded with so many questions it was impossible to answer them all. More than ten people were already staring at him with curious eyes.
Unlike Patrick, who exuded the aura of a proper knight, Swallow had been slumped on the ground the entire time. From the humans’ perspective, he seemed far more approachable.
‘Damn it.’
Back in the Primordial Core, it was Rene and Melju making a fuss. Now, it was a whole crowd of these creatures. There was nowhere he could rest in peace.
Swallow clicked his tongue. It was a fairly loud sound, but it was completely buried under the human clamor.
To make matters worse, a few of the people approaching him were the very same ones who had attacked him and Patrick at dawn, only to be beaten to a pulp.
‘Are they optimistic, or just incapable of learning?’
He wanted to swallow them all, but if he devoured these noisy pests, Patrick would throw a nagging festival.
Right, let’s get close. Let’s get close. Swallow practically had to brainwash himself before forcing a smile.
“You’re incredibly strong for your appearance, Sir Knight. I don’t usually lose to anyone in a contest of strength, but I was shocked.”
“Ah… yeah, well.”
It had been incredibly difficult to control his strength just enough to knock them out.
“Sir Knight! I heard that the Empire’s ‘Red Spear of Roa’ wears gold-plated armor. Is the armor actually made of gold?!”
“That… probably not, I think.”
He vaguely recalled a knight in golden armor who had challenged the Primordial Core in the past. It had been fascinating, but it wasn’t real gold. Besides, making armor out of gold was one of the most foolish things one could do.
“Is it true that all the food in Riaze is delicious?”
“No, not at all.”
Swallow frowned slightly, the bitter taste of the dried fruit he had eaten at the tavern with Melju seemingly lingering in his mouth.
“By any chance, during your time as an imperial knight, did you ever have an audience with Lord Bern or Lady Uin?!”
“How would I know those kids?”
This time, the humans reacted with bewilderment. Come to think of it, the names did sound vaguely familiar.
Several more questions were exchanged. Most were cheap, curiosity-filled questions, like low-grade monsters asking, “Is there really a dragon in that dungeon?!”
Even though he didn’t know who Bern or Uin were, there were quite a few questions about their deeds. He was sure he had heard the name Uin somewhere recently, but since he couldn’t remember, it must have been something incredibly trivial. Even after hundreds or thousands of years, he could vividly recall things as long as the memory was strong. But forgetting trivial matters after a single day was a trait he shared with any other living creature.
‘I’ve only been to Riaze once recently, so there’s no way I would have met people like that.’
The Q&A went on. Only when Swallow, who had been answering for over ten minutes, showed an overtly exhausted expression did the humans finally take the hint and begin to disperse.
Just as Swallow was about to catch his breath, Rosalina approached him hesitantly.
‘You have got to be kidding me.’
Was this a racial trait of humans? Coming in endless waves right when you think you’re done?
“U-Um… Sir Knight.”
At the meek voice, Swallow raised his head slightly. Behind the girl, who looked much neater than when he first saw her, a man with a stiff expression was also approaching.
Swallow narrowed his eyes.
The girl was now wearing the rosary from her pocket around her neck.
‘It certainly looks ominous.’
However, it wasn’t emitting any mana. Just as Patrick said, it probably only released its power under specific circumstances.
Rosalina, who had shuffled over to Swallow, bowed her head deeply.
“I-I’m really sorry for stealing your things, Sir Knight.”
“No, well. It wasn’t anything important.”
At most, she had just taken the spoils of a Great Evil Cave boss.
Swallow replied half-heartedly, scratching the back of his head.
An awkward silence fell. This time, the man behind Rosalina stepped past her.
“…I am Toth. I am currently managing the back alley in place of the Captain, who is away.”
The man’s guard was still up. He was the other one, besides the Captain, of the “two who wouldn’t let their guard down until the very end” that Patrick had mentioned.
Swallow gave a light nod in response.
Taking a short breath, Toth asked directly, “The Captain told me to assist you to the best of my ability.”
Swallow raised an eyebrow. That must be why Toth was being so cooperative. It seemed Patrick had successfully wrapped up his talk with the Captain.
“You look very tired, so I will be direct. You said you came here to save Hastin, correct?”
“Yeah, we did.”
“If you want to know the current state of the town, it would be faster to see it for yourself rather than hear about it.”
“Huh?”
“If you don’t mind, I can guide you right now.”
—No, why right now?
His eagerness was strangely familiar. For a moment, Swallow considered refusing, but then he changed his mind.
If he stayed here, he would surely be subjected to another merciless barrage of questions. Thanks to the elaborate lie Patrick had spun earlier, there were quite a few questions that were difficult to answer.
Staying here would be its own form of torment.
“Let’s go now.”
As Swallow stood up, Toth spoke.
“Let’s start by looking around the private residences.”
*
The first place they entered was an ordinary house on an empty street.
No signs of life could be felt from within. As if he already knew no one was inside, Toth opened the door without hesitation.
The door was unlocked. To be precise, the latch was bent, rendering it useless. Someone had already been here.
Upon opening the door, the first thing that hit them was the smell. A thick, heavy odor hung over the entire building—a smell that was nauseating to some, and sickeningly familiar to others.
Swallow and Toth searched the rooms in silence.
The source of the smell was the second floor.
It was wafting from a room used for storage.
He pushed open the slightly ajar door.
Two corpses.
“It has been three weeks since the ‘Black Disaster’ struck Hastin,” Toth said suddenly, staring blankly at the people who had starved to death.
“Why the town is so quiet, why the townspeople didn’t rise up with hoes and scythes—”
It was a question that had lingered from the beginning. When famine struck a town, the peasants’ anger would turn on their lord, and they would rise up with whatever weapons they could find.
The ‘Black Disaster’ was certainly comparable to a famine.
Yet, why did the residents of Hastin simply starve to death without taking any action?
Why didn’t they even unite?
“…Aren’t you curious?”
Swallow showed no reaction. His face remained expressionless.
A silence fell between them.
Taking that silence as affirmation, Toth spoke again.
“It started with the ‘Black Disaster’.”
*
It started with the ‘Black Disaster’.
Without any warning, the disaster descended upon Hastin’s grand plaza, disappearing only a few seconds later. That brief moment was enough to claim the lives of countless people.
Every building the blackness touched collapsed, and every living thing it grazed burst. Everything was utterly destroyed.
Most of those who were unfortunate enough to witness the Black Disaster with their own eyes fell into an eternal sleep. It was only natural that those who were unconscious could not survive for even a week.
People who lost their homes began to wander.
Soon after, news that Count Etarque, the Lord of Hastin, was dead began to circulate.
Not long after the disaster, someone set fire to the fields.
Immediately after, ominous rumors spread through the town. The rumor was that all the crops the Black Disaster had passed over were contaminated, and eating even a little would cause one to contract a hideously painful plague.
The townspeople asked other territories for help. After several attempts, a promise came back: they would immediately send carriages loaded with supplies.
And so, half a day passed. Then a full day, then two, then several more.
They did not come.
No matter how long they waited, no supply carriages arrived. Not even the shadow of one.
It didn’t take long for communication with other territories to be cut off entirely.
Another few days passed.
One by one, people began suggesting they escape the town secretly at night. They left on the dark roads, promising to send news and supplies once they reached another town.
When no word came from them either, no one expected outside help anymore.
Rumors began to circulate that Hastin was a cursed land.
Rumors began to circulate that the Empire had abandoned them.
Despair took root.
The residents had to survive the winter. The fields, burnt blacker than the Black Disaster itself, were useless for now.
In the end, the residents had to hold out until the crops grew again. Amidst the bleak situation, they thought that at least there was no word of the soil itself being contaminated. The newly grown crops would surely be safe.