Chapter 54
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 54
“Sir Knight. I’m only telling you this because it’s you. They say that when He saves Hastin in the near future, those with steadfast faith will be granted eternal happiness.”
“Eternal happiness…” Swallow muttered, his voice dry and hollow.
“Yes! It means becoming closer to Him! The Bishop also said that He will share a Holy Communion far more noble than ever before.”
If she meant the Host, she was talking about the bread. In that case…
“A more noble Holy Communion…?”
“I heard it won’t just be the Host imbued with His energy, but His actual feast. From the way they describe it, I think it might be meat.”
“Meat? In a village like this?”
It was an absurd claim, yet Rosalina’s voice was devoid of any playfulness as she continued.
“They say it’s possible because it is all His doing. To bestow meat upon a village like this… it’s something no one else could do.”
The girl smiled, adding one last question. “You think so too, don’t you, Sir Knight?”
Her voice was filled with anticipation. She wanted him to validate the miraculous nature of the being she worshiped.
Of course, magic that could simply create meat didn't exist. If it did, Swallow would never have stepped foot outside his room.
Furthermore, supplying meat to a place where the flow of goods had been completely cut off was no easy feat.
Perhaps it was a metaphor. But if those words weren't a metaphor, if they were actually…
If it’s the truth.
Once again, Swallow's train of thought was cut short. Rosalina, who had been standing before him, was now receiving the Holy Communion. Her hands trembled as she accepted the bread from the Bishop. She looked utterly precarious.
When his turn came, Swallow stepped directly in front of the Bishop. The man's face was obscured by a hood, his identity hidden. Swallow lifted his head, trying to get a look at his face.
On the surface, he appeared to be an ordinary human.
“A face I haven’t seen before,” the Bishop muttered in a low voice.
With his black hair, Swallow already stood out from the locals. Having entered mid-Mass only made him more conspicuous.
Swallow responded with silence.
As if he hadn't expected an answer, the Bishop silently held the bread out to Swallow.
Their hands touched.
And then.
The Bishop froze.
Swallow stopped moving as well.
A few seconds of silence passed.
Soon, a smirk played on Swallow’s lips.
“What did you just try to do?”
The Bishop was smiling too, but it was a strained, forced grin that spoke of his inability to process what was happening.
It was a natural reaction. The moment their hands touched, the Bishop had funneled mana into Swallow's body—a probe meant to permeate every corner of its target and uncover their true identity.
But there was no way such a trivial amount of mana could ever perceive an entity like Swallow.
The mana that flowed in never returned to the Bishop. It was simply devoured by Swallow—vanishing without a trace, leaving behind nothing but a primal terror of the unknown.
“You… You're not human…”
As the Bishop's voice trailed off, Swallow leaned forward, his smirk widening. He was laughing at how pathetic the man's panic was.
“You shouldn't go around poking into other people's bodies like that.”
Ah, so that’s how it is.
A cult's bishop monitoring everyone with non-human mana.
A man exuding the energy of the undead standing beside the Lord.
An isolated village.
This was the moment suspicion turned into certainty.
Someone was behind all of this.
“You’re playing some pretty blatant games.”
There are many kinds of dogs, from those that cling to their masters to those that are simply rabid. But the kind Swallow hated most was undoubtedly the dog that covets another's territory.
Even for Swallow, who tried not to care what others did, this left a foul taste in his mouth.
If a territory fell into ruin due to its owner’s own mistakes, that was one thing. There was no one to blame, so at most, he’d feel a bit of pity.
However, the story changed if some fools who didn't know their place barged in and ruined things.
When a dog can't distinguish between the lines it can and cannot cross, the only proper response is to break its legs.
But.
Not yet. It was still too early.
He needed to be a bit more cold-headed than usual.
“My memory is actually quite bad, you see.”
He had a rough idea of who distributed the Rosaries, but the mastermind behind it all had yet to be identified.
He also hadn't shared information with Patrick yet.
So, for now, smashing everything immediately wouldn't be wise.
“But I’ll make sure to remember you,” Swallow whispered.
Recalling Patrick’s words—“The state of Hastin is suspicious”—he let out a short, sharp laugh.
*
The sun had long set, and night had fully fallen by the time the Mass ended and they left the Catacombs.
After sending Rosalina ahead, Swallow sat on a wooden crate in the corner of an alley.
Rosalina had left with a pout. “Is a knight really letting a lady walk home alone late at night?”
Just half a day ago, she had been wary of him. Now, she'd dropped her guard completely, all because she mistook him for a fellow believer. Humans truly were unpredictable.
I have no idea how Patrick manages to handle humans.
Inhaling the lonely night air, Swallow sank into thought.
After the incident with the Bishop, the situation felt entirely different. To be honest, he was starting to get annoyed.
The food from the Lord's Castle included the bread used in their rituals, which meant the Lord and this religion were clearly connected. The ‘man exuding the energy of the undead’ that Patrick mentioned had to be involved.
Furthermore, when the Bishop funneled mana into his body, Swallow became certain.
That mana was not human.
In other words, the Bishop was not human either.
Simply put, the circumstantial evidence was so overwhelming that physical proof was hardly necessary.
The undead were hiding in Hastin.
And they were most likely hidden everywhere, all according to some deliberate plan.
“...I’d love to just crush everything.”
What started as a mere nuisance was now revealed to be part of a larger scheme, and a tide of irritation surged within him.
It was even more annoying because this wasn't a problem that could be solved by just smashing things.
The undead were different from humans. They had a fundamental immunity to fear and no dread of death. That meant intimidation was impossible. He couldn't just beat them up and extract information.
The mastermind. He just needed to find the mastermind.
There wasn't much time. Since both he and Patrick had now openly shown hostility, the other side would likely make their move soon.
He just had to find them and crush them all before that happened.
“I suppose I should wait for Patrick first.”
It was late. According to Patrick, the Captain and Toth seemed to be watching their movements, so staying out for too long wouldn't be a good idea.
Swallow stood up and walked toward the back alleys. As he passed the main street, human voices broke the silence.
Swallow casually turned his gaze toward the source of the noise. It was the guards, their voices carrying from the checkpoint at the distant castle gate.
Don’t those guys ever get tired…
Just as he was about to finish his thought and head back, Swallow sensed something strange and listened closer.
There should always be two guards at the gate. Tonight, however, three silhouettes were visible.
Two of them seemed flustered, while one appeared to be throwing a fit.
Judging by the voice, one of them was female.
Curiosity piqued, Swallow drew closer. He stopped when the voices and figures became clear. The female voice coming from the gate sounded like Melju. Her arguments, too, sounded very much like something Melju would say.
There’s no way that’s Melju... right?
Surely not.
It couldn't be. He would assume it wasn't.
His Demon King would surely have flown over the walls using Flight magic.
There was no way she’d be caught trying to pass through the gate like an idiot.
Swallow quickened his pace, trying to retreat into the back alley. But as if sensing his movement, the female voice—the one he prayed wasn't Melju—rang out loudly.
“Ah…?! Swallo… Sir Swald! Over here! Here! Can you help me! Uh, hello? Sir Swald! Sir Swald! Why are you ignoring me?! I said help me! Sir Swald!”
*
“Isn't this a bit much...? The gallant image of you saving my luggage back in Riaze is still so vivid in my heart…”
Even rescuing Melju from the guards had been an ordeal. He had tried to bribe them with money, following Patrick’s method, but Patrick had taken all the gold coins, so that was out.
It took a full five minutes to persuade the guards to let her go. He was just starting to think, Wouldn't it be quieter if I just chopped their heads off? when they finally relented.
“No matter how I think about it, you are too much.”
“No… from my perspective, you’re the one who’s too much.”
Thanks to you, my face is now burned into the guards' memories.
Besides, as a Demon King, she didn't need to enter through the front gate so boldly in the first place.
“You could have flown over the wall with Flight magic. You could have neutralized the guards with Brainwashing or Sleep magic. Wait, come to think of it, you have Teleportation magic… Are you an idiot?”
The more he thought about it, the more she seemed like a real piece of work. Seeing how she had tried to maintain a mature facade when they first met, it seemed Melju had genuinely intended to make a frontal breakthrough.
When Swallow let out a smirk, Melju’s face turned bright red, and she flailed her arms as she shouted.
“I-I'm not an idiot! This Queen doesn't know the geography of Hastin! Besides, I was sure Lord Swallow would have entered through this gate. Yes! I was going to erase the guards' memories after asking if they'd seen Lord Swallow!”
No, so why didn't you just use Brainwashing magic from the start? He wanted to nitpick, but…
“...Now that I think about it, you’re right. My apologies.”
The Demon King looked like she was about to cry, probably anticipating his rebuttal. Catching her expression in a sidelong glance, Swallow quickly apologized.
Right, one can't always make the perfect choice. Besides, for a Demon King who had spent her life being revered as great, being called an idiot seemed to make her soul leave her body. Wondering if he'd been too harsh, Swallow apologized again.
But she really was a bit of an idiot.
Not that I’m one to talk, though.
Only after hearing the second apology did Melju smile brightly again and reply.
“This Queen is fine.”
Hearing her answer, Swallow thought to himself, None of the women around me, whether human or monster, have a normal emotional range. Why is that?
“...So, what brings you here?” Swallow asked, cutting his idle thoughts short.
At his question, Melju put her hands on her hips and spoke triumphantly. He felt it every time they met, but Melju was an incredibly energetic Demon King.
“Why, it's obviously because I missed Lord Swallow!”
“No, it’s not.”
If that were the reason, there's no way Rene would have let her go.
Swallow looked into Melju’s eyes. They were sparkling. It seemed she intended to stick to that reason until the very end, unless he threatened her.
“I'm going to ask Rene when I get back, so I'd appreciate an answer you won't be ashamed of later.”
The moment he applied a bit of pressure, a gasp escaped the Demon King’s mouth.
Rene was Melju’s natural enemy. He remembered that every time Melju was caught causing a commotion in the dungeon, she was treated quite harshly by Rene.
Last time, there was a huge fuss when Rene tried to lock her in a room with the 116 Black Tentacles.
Melju should have just admitted her mistake then. She had almost made things worse by trying to save her pride as a Demon King.
“I won't help you if you end up in the same situation as last time.”
At the mention of ‘the same situation as last time,’ Melju’s expression grew increasingly complicated. Since she had been subjected to such things more than once or twice, she seemed unable to even gauge the scale of it.
“Ugh… I was going to tell you everything even if you didn't act so menacing. I came on an errand. There is news to deliver regarding the Primordial Core.”
“News? Did humans invade or something?”
“Not that. But it is true that someone came.”
“...What do you mean? I don’t follow.”
“I do not know where to begin. First of all, Erzsebet Bathory-nim visited the Primordial Core.”
“Ah.”
The moment he heard the name Erzsebet Bathory, a look of blatant disgust crossed Swallow's face. It was followed by a sigh of relief. I'm so glad I happened to be away at such a miraculous time.
“So, about that. Bathory… nim? Bathory?”
“…Just call her whatever you want if you're confused. Just be careful what you say in front of her.”
Since Melju was the queen of monsters who always reigned over others, she had various issues with using honorifics.
Even when told to speak comfortably, she insisted on calling him ‘Lord Swallow,’ and in Patrick’s case, she called him ‘Sir’ at his own request.
Rene had also asked to be called by the same title, saying, “Since you call Mr. Patrick that, you can’t call Rene anything else.”
Melju, who had been pondering with a hand on her ample chest, reached a conclusion she found suitable and continued.
“Yes. Then I shall call her Sir Bathory. The reason Sir Bathory came to the Primordial Core was to deliver a message. She said that… the undead might swarm into Hastin.”