Chapter 57
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 57
Lara Cinebier Etarque woke with a gasp, dragging air into her lungs.
As she panted heavily, her eyes shot open to find nothing but darkness. It seemed she had failed to sleep properly yet again, waking in the dead of night.
“…So cold.”
Her voice was exhausted and dry.
As always, her entire body was drenched in sweat. Even the sheets beneath her were soaked. She shivered, and as the sweat began to cool, it felt as though her very life force was draining away with her body heat.
Lying helplessly on the bed, Lara reached for the lamp on her nightstand. Her fingers fumbled across the surface until they found the handle. Infusing a tiny bit of mana into it, a small flame flickered to life.
Clutching the lamp, she scanned her surroundings.
The air was colder than usual.
Wondering what was wrong, she glanced around her bedchamber and saw the window wide open.
“…Ah.”
The wind howling in from outside was exceptionally fierce.
Had she forgotten to close it properly?
On a whim, she called out for the butler, but as expected, there was no reply.
With a soft sigh, Lara carefully stepped out of bed. She wore nothing but a thin nightgown, and a shiver ran through her body every time her bare feet touched the cold floor.
Tiptoeing to the window, Lara pulled it shut.
And just as she was about to turn back toward the bed—
“Did you sleep well?”
The voice came without warning.
Lara froze, her body turning to stone.
It was a voice she had heard before, but it wasn't the butler's.
Only then did she realize that despite closing the window, the chilling cold that had settled in the room remained. No, it was actually growing worse.
Lara slowly turned her head.
Standing behind her was the owner of the voice—the wandering knight who had reportedly defeated the harpies that attacked the territory.
“How…”
Her words were cut short, but her thoughts raced. Even in this bewildering situation, Lara desperately tried to regain her composure.
First, she shifted her gaze as calmly as possible. Her eyes flicked toward the room's single door, then back to the window she had just closed. Her expression stiffened.
Don't tell me the window was open because…
It was a height absolutely impossible for a human to scale, but with magic or some other means, it wouldn't be out of the question. Besides, her opponent was a powerhouse who had single-handedly defeated twenty harpies. He could have used high-level magic or some other extraordinary method.
“W-what is the meaning of this? Intruding in my chambers in the dead of night…!” Lara demanded, trying her best to sound composed.
She wanted to call the guards—no, she wanted to at least scream—but the knight was far too close. A midnight intruder was unlikely to harbor good intentions, so she had to tread carefully.
The knight replied in a tone laced with curiosity.
“Well, naturally, I came because I have business with you.”
There was no gravity in his voice. He felt like an entirely different person from the one she had met in public earlier.
A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek.
“H-how dare you! If you had business, you should have followed the proper procedures after sunrise. Do you have any idea how outrageous your actions are right now…?”
“Of course I do.”
“What?”
“It’s just that I have no interest in getting on your good side. Or rather, it’s more accurate to say I no longer see the need.”
“Why be polite to someone who’s practically an enemy?” the knight added, his voice remaining playful to the end.
Unable to comprehend the situation, Lara’s face stiffened once more. Watching her expression closely, the knight drew the sword from his hip.
It was a massive blade. The black mist swirling around it was so repulsive that just looking at it made her stomach churn. She had seen something like it in the past when she had accompanied her older brother to watch an expedition. Back then, her brother had told her that things taking such a form were evil spirits.
Patrick swung his sword toward Lara.
Whoosh.
The sharp tip sliced through the air, stopping just shy of her neck. A fraction of an inch closer, and her throat would have been spraying blood.
“If you continue to be uncooperative, I’ll kill you. If you think I’m joking, feel free to test me.”
The knight's voice had changed completely. The shift in tone was so drastic it felt like she was facing an entirely different person.
“Lara… was it? My dear Lord Lara, I’ll give you exactly five minutes. Bring that man who was standing behind you earlier. And you must bring him here naturally, without arousing any suspicion.”
*
“I picked this up on my way here.”
The moment Lara returned with the man, Patrick tossed a helm onto the floor.
The empty helmet rolled and clattered against the wall. The loud, hollow sound confirmed there was nothing inside.
It was the helm of a Dullahan.
“Now, doesn’t this look familiar?” Patrick smiled, observing them both.
Now that he had gathered most of the evidence, it was time to begin the interrogation.
It started with their expressions. The moment the helm hit the floor, both Lara and the man looked visibly shaken. They were equally speechless, yet there was a subtle difference between them.
Lara was trembling. She was biting her nails, her dignity as a lord completely forgotten. That was fear. The terror of not knowing the full situation but sensing its gravity. The helplessness of having all control stripped away.
On the other hand…
The man showed no significant change, only a hint of anxiety. He merely watched the situation unfold with displeasure—a reaction possible only for someone who understood exactly what was happening.
“…What is this?”
Breaking the silence, Lara spoke before the man did. Her tone was remarkably calm for someone so thoroughly shaken.
I guess she isn't completely useless, Patrick thought, keeping the admiration to himself. He asked back, “Do you really not know what this is?”
“How… how could I? I have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to say.”
“I’m saying a helm like this was found.”
“So what about the helm! Is it not just an ordinary helm worn by knights? I truly have no idea what you are talking about…!”
“It was in the dungeon.”
“…What?”
“In this castle’s dungeon.”
Lara’s eyes widened, leaving her momentarily speechless. Questions about why he had entered the dungeon without permission were long forgotten. After a wide-eyed glance at the helm on the floor, Lara struggled to regain her composure.
“…S-so? What of it if a helm was found in the dungeon?”
This time, Patrick scratched his head as if troubled. “It’s not that I dislike bickering… but I didn’t come here empty-handed. Since time is precious, I’ll just be blunt.”
Only after savoring Lara’s panicked expression and the man’s gradually distorting face did Patrick continue.
“Lord. No, Lara Cinebier Etarque. Why are you colluding with the undead?”
A few seconds of silence passed.
Perhaps having reached her breaking point, Lara’s stiff expression actually grew calm. Soon, she forced her mouth open, her voice dazed.
“…What are you talking about?”
“Who do you think owned that helm in the dungeon? Are you going to play dumb to the end? Or do you really not know who you’ve allied yourself with? Then again, for an incompetent lord who doesn’t even know what’s happening in her own castle, let alone her territory, I suppose that’s entirely possible.”
He had considered the possibility that the lord knew nothing. No sane person would knowingly extend a hand to the undead.
When Lara remained unable to answer, Patrick spoke up.
“That is a Dullahan’s helm. I won’t accept any objections. I killed it myself. Furthermore, the dungeon is currently packed with corpses. Oh, and there was a Butcher, too. Well, judging by your reaction, you didn’t know about that either.”
Patrick chuckled playfully. Then, he drew his sword again and pointed the sharp tip at the man.
“And that man is also undead.”
“I don’t believe you.” This time, the response came immediately. “If you barge in here and say such things, how could I possibly believe you? I don’t know why you’re saying this, but this man has promised salvation to Hastin!”
Emphasizing the word ‘salvation,’ she continued, “He knows secrets that have been revealed to no one else! He has shown us miraculous magic! He is the sole hope of Hastin! You are the one threatening the peace of Hastin right now!”
“How amusing,” he said, a chuckle leaking through his helm. “Do you even know who’s really threatening that peace?”
Left speechless by his reaction, Lara turned her head to look at the man.
Then, the man, who had been listening in silence, spoke in a low, heavy voice. “…Sir Knight, you mentioned a Dullahan’s helm, but a Dullahan is not an undead that exists so commonly.”
“Ah, indeed. I was surprised myself.”
“When you claim such a Dullahan was in the dungeon, or that the dungeon was littered with corpses, based on nothing but a single helm you brought, I simply do not know what to make of it.”
“Ah, ahahaha. You’ve both got it completely wrong. I didn’t say this to ask you to believe me; I said it so you would open your ears and listen. Whether you’re undead or not is a question that can be answered simply by slicing you open right now.”
At Patrick’s words, the man fell silent. Casually swinging his sword while muttering, “This is actually more useful than I thought,” Patrick continued.
“Well, even if I say this, you’ll probably play dumb to the end. So, let me tell you just how much I know.”
There were two doubts he had harbored during the earlier battle.
“I mentioned I met a Dullahan in the dungeon, right? That Dullahan was a little… suspicious.”
First, the Dullahan was silent. As a high-ranking entity known as an ‘Elder’ among the undead, it should have possessed a complete sense of self, yet it was strangely quiet.
Second, the Dullahan’s movements. Between one action and the next, there were visible moments of stiffness. It was such a minute difference that anyone other than Patrick would have failed to notice. The movements were clearly the unnatural motions typical of lower-tier entities like skeletons or zombies.
“So, after destroying its soul, I did a little investigation.”
Patrick’s prediction was spot on. Inside the armor, there was a magic sigil.
“It was under mind control. Since it was suspicious, I investigated further and found out something else.”
The sigil of subordination overlaid on the soul was clearly for mind control. Subjugating a being with magic is always a secondary measure. If a Dullahan with a sense of self had voluntarily sworn obedience, would there have been any need to use mind control?
With that question in mind, Patrick investigated the armor’s age and any traces of its user. Finding both took only a moment. The armor’s design was one that had been popular half a century ago, and a name was engraved in small letters on the edge of the pauldron.
「Masham」
“The name of the controlled Dullahan was Masham.”
It was a name Patrick knew. Thirty years ago, Masham was a renowned warrior who had fought against Erebos when it suddenly attacked humanity. He was the vice-captain of the Masham & Harda Brothers Subjugation Squad formed to stop Erebos. He was also a noble hero whose body was never recovered after the failed subjugation.
Therefore…
“The mastermind is…”
Someone connected to the undead. Someone possessing immense power. Someone who had a connection to Masham and had no choice but to use mind control because Masham, even as a Dullahan, refused to submit.
“Erebos.”
The silence brought about by that single word swallowed all sound.
As if by fate, everything stilled.
The wind outside the window, the flame burning inside the lamp.
Everything, suddenly.
“Are you still going to deny it?”
Only after a long pause did Patrick utter his final words. Though phrased as a question, it was practically a sentence.
Silence fell once more.
Patrick continued to smirk, as if finding their silence utterly delightful. Once again, Lara was the first to react.
“Ha, hahaha. I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about… Why are you mentioning the name of a Great Evil Cave’s boss monster? Make me understand! I… I know nothing of this. I don’t know. I don’t know…!”
Lara was lost. Her gaze, which had been wandering aimlessly, turned back to the man.
He remained silent. A deep shadow cast over his face hid his expression.
Hollow eyes. A chilling voice.
Barely holding onto her sanity, Lara asked the man, “Why… why are you offering no explanation, even now?”
She muttered to herself, thinking, You must explain… I shouldn't doubt him. I must not doubt him.
“You must…”
At that moment, a thick, viscous laugh spilled from a mouth split wide in a straight line.
“Ahahaha… Kahahahahaha!”
It was an answer more than enough to make Lara snap.
Screaming at the man’s laughter, Lara sprang up from her seat. She immediately drew a decorative sword from the wall and rushed at him.
“Didn’t you say you would save me?! Save my territory?! Why?!”
Both hands holding the sword trembled, her posture incredibly clumsy. There was no way any real power could come from her frail body.