Chapter 61
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 61
"Don't give me that bullshit."
It didn't take a genius to see through his excuse. Did he really think they’d believe he was just wandering the outskirts at this hour because he ‘had nothing better to do’?
Besides, it was a cold, exceptionally dark night. The darkness itself was a hazard; just moments ago, Rosalina had nearly tripped over a stray rock. This wasn't the kind of night for a carefree stroll. How could he have just ‘happened’ to come to this foul-smelling place that everyone else avoided?
While keeping his expression carefully neutral, Toth expertly gauged the Bishop’s reaction. He had his suspicions but no proof. Unless the man revealed his reasons first, there was no way to find out.
Just then, a cold wind gusted past, making the torch flame flicker. As Rosalina shivered, the rosary around her neck swayed.
"And what might the two of you be doing at this hour?" the Bishop asked, his eyes, hidden beneath his hood, fixed on the brightly burning torch.
Deciding there was no point in making excuses, Toth spoke before Rosalina could.
"We’re going to cremate the bodies."
"To prevent the plague?"
"You're well-informed."
"Then it seems I have intruded. My sincerest apologies."
Toth had expected the man to push some religious agenda, but the Bishop’s submissive response made him flinch. He lowered his voice and asked, "…Are you planning on telling anyone?"
"You misunderstand. You needn't worry about that at all. Please, pay me no mind and finish what you came to do."
It was suspicious. But since the man remained so polite, the atmosphere made it impossible to refuse.
"…Fine," Toth replied, his voice laced with dissatisfaction, before turning to Rosalina.
There was nothing to be gained by lingering. He wanted to get away from this place—or rather, away from the Bishop—as soon as possible.
Meeting Toth’s gaze, Rosalina nodded and took a step ahead of the two men.
Silence fell over them once more, broken only by the crackling torch. A solemn stillness hung in the air.
Rosalina closed her eyes, holding the torch aloft.
In that moment, she was neither the clear-voiced girl, the religious fanatic, nor the naive pauper from the back alleys. Beneath her eyelids, a multitude of emotions surely swirled.
A few minutes passed—or perhaps only a few dozen seconds.
The girl opened her eyes again.
The trembling in her body had vanished. The hesitation that had clung to her every movement was gone.
After standing still for a long moment, as if having made her final resolution, Rosalina thrust the torch forward.
It was then that she froze.
A sound of confusion escaped her lips.
"…?"
She had been stopped.
The Bishop, who had been standing beside her, had suddenly reached out and blocked her arm.
His hand didn't grab the handle of the torch, but the flaming wick itself.
"Bishop, what are you… doing?"
The fire caught on the Bishop’s hand, spreading up his wrist like a contagion and climbing all the way to his shoulder. The smell of burning flesh—a rancid, familiar scent—wafted through the air.
It was the smell of a rotting corpse.
Questions swirled, but the Bishop gave them no time to think. Toth and Rosalina were too busy trying to process the impossible sight before them.
First, the Bishop pulled back his hood. The tall man with the white-painted face was gone; in his place was an emaciated, skeletal undead.
Whoosh.
The torch went out.
Darkness reclaimed their surroundings.
Immediately, their vision was stained red. A new light source had appeared, and it was entirely crimson.
While Rosalina stared blankly at the extinguished torch, Toth looked up.
The sky over Hastin was entirely blood-red.
"…What the hell."
A stunned, idiotic whisper escaped his lips.
What is happening? As he struggled to adapt, his mind filled with stupid questions, Toth saw the shadow cast by the corpse pile begin to flicker.
He locked eyes with one of the bodies in front of him.
*
The black butterfly he had sent into the red sky returned through the window. It hovered and danced around Melju, and only after a few more had joined it did they settle on her fingertips.
"…"
Melju closed her eyes.
The images seen by her small, black familiars flooded her mind. As she processed the memories, the butterflies dissolved back into their original form—mana—leaving behind only faint blue afterimages.
"It seems Erebos has truly arrived," she confirmed in a steady voice.
The red sky was a Veil. A massive, hemispherical Veil now covered the entirety of Hastin. The butterflies she had ordered to escape had burst the moment they touched it, proving it was a barrier meant to prevent anyone from fleeing.
"The situation?"
"Just as expected."
Melju opened her eyes only after she had processed all the memories. The butterflies were gone. She answered Swallow, who was scratching the back of his neck.
The sight her familiars had witnessed from above was unmistakable. "A horde of hundreds of undead is swarming in."
*
It was a festival.
The dead in the pits were all rising, running wild in a grotesque celebration. The mountains of corpses began to untangle, a dancing, collapsing wave of bodies surging toward Toth and Rosalina.
They ran. To be precise, Toth grabbed the wrist of the still-dazed Rosalina and bolted.
If his judgment had been a moment slower, they would have been torn to shreds. If they had taken a single step toward the Bishop, they would have died. If he hadn't grabbed Rosalina’s wrist, she would have died.
Escaping the outskirts was nothing short of a miracle.
Toth moved with a desperate speed he didn't know he possessed.
They were dead the moment they were caught.
He ran until the pounding of his heart drowned out the sound of his own gasping breath. Running so suddenly on an empty stomach made his insides churn. The world spun around him, his mind unable to process the rapidly changing situation, a chaotic jumble of questions threatening to snap his consciousness.
Even so, he ran.
Toth only dared a glance back once they reached the main road, when he felt he had reached his absolute limit.
The pursuing undead were several dozen meters away.
—Only several dozen meters.
Those things didn't know exhaustion. They were still in sight, and the gap he had barely managed to create was already closing.
They would be caught soon.
Where? Where should I run?
With the sky itself having turned bright red, his mind felt like it was short-circuiting.
To get out of their line of sight, they had to duck into a side path or an alley. They might lose them for a moment, but—No.
He knew the streets of Hastin like the back of his hand. Most of the alleys in this area were dead ends, the worst possible terrain for an escape. He didn't have the confidence to hide in silence, holding his breath and masking their scent. Even if they managed it, there was no guarantee they wouldn't be discovered. The thought of being cornered at a dead end, of having his flesh torn away by the horde, sent a throb of pain through his head.
"Toth, pant, I… pant… can't anymore…"
He heard Rosalina’s voice as they forced themselves onward. She was too out of breath to finish the sentence, but her meaning was clear.
Her stamina was gone.
We can't go any further. Certain of their situation, Toth’s eyes darted around frantically. If they had to stop, if they had to hide somewhere…
‘…Ah.’
A familiar building came into view.
He didn't think twice. As long as the odds of survival were better than hiding in an alley, it didn't matter.
His body moved before his mind could catch up. Toth yanked Rosalina by the wrist and pulled her into the building.
Just having the immediate danger out of sight eased the tension ever so slightly.
As soon as they were inside, Toth headed straight for the living room and returned with a large planter. The latch on the front door was bent and useless. Needing to buy even a little more time, Toth used all his strength to drag the planter in front of the door, blocking it.
He already knew the latch was broken and that there was a large planter in the living room. In fact, the entire layout of the house was clear in his mind.
He had been here several times before, even with the knight in the shabby armor.
‘Wheeze, wheeze.’
Toth, having squeezed out the last of his energy to move the planter, looked at Rosalina, his vision flickering from lack of oxygen.
She had slumped against the wall the moment they entered, her entire body trembling as if in a seizure. It looked as though she would never stand on those thin legs again.
"Haaa, ha, gasp, pant."
It hurts. I can't. I can't move anymore.
Rosalina’s lips moved between ragged breaths.
Toth felt the same—utterly spent.
Which was exactly why he had to push.
"No," Toth said. His voice trembled, but it was more serious than ever. "You have to move."
Let's get to the second floor. He was about to grab her wrist again to force her along when the dark blue bruises on her skin caught his eye.
For a split second, he froze.
But his judgment remained swift.
"…Get up."
Pulling her by the hand this time, Toth forced Rosalina to her feet and offered his back. She stared blankly for a moment before leaning against him.
Carrying Rosalina, Toth headed for the second floor. No matter how light she was, carrying her with his depleted stamina sent throbbing pain through his entire body.
Barely clinging to his fading consciousness, Toth had a single thought as they climbed the stairs.
—Can we both survive?
Thirty years had passed since he was abandoned in the back alleys at the age of five. He prided himself on being good at improvising, but in this situation, no plan came to mind. Considering the distance, the probability of the undead storming this house was high.
Unless heaven itself intervened, it would be difficult for both of them to survive.
—If we both can't survive…
He swallowed hard, his throat dry.
Perhaps feeling the trembling in his thin back, Rosalina called his name.
"…Toth?"
He didn't answer. He just quickened his pace.
The second floor was also a space he knew well. A foul stench lingered, just as it had the last time he was here, but it seemed to have settled in the night air and was less overpowering than he expected.
He moved toward a storage room where the door was slightly ajar—the source of the stench.
Just as he remembered, two corpses greeted them from inside.
After a moment's hesitation, Toth set Rosalina down against the storage room wall. Her face was pale.
"Are we… safe now…?"
"No."
Normally, he would have lied to reassure her.
He couldn't do that now.
"It's just as dangerous here. Get a grip."
"What… what do you mean?" she stammered. Whether she truly thought this place was safe or had simply brainwashed herself into believing it, she tried to escape reality by hiding her face behind her messy pink hair.
There was no time to worry about her.
Toth scanned the storage room.
The first thing that caught his eye was the weapon held tightly in the hand of one of the corpses.
A quarterstaff. A sharp blade had been affixed to its end, turning it into a makeshift spear. The former owner must have refused to let it go, determined to protect their body and property to the last.
After a brief bow to the corpse, Toth pulled the weapon free.
"Toth. Why… why are you suddenly doing this?"
He ignored Rosalina’s fear-filled voice.
He took off his outer garment—a leather jacket, his favorite, though its original color was hidden beneath years of accumulated stains.
Toth smeared the jacket with the filth from the corpses.
Rosalina watched his actions with hollow eyes, unable to find her voice.
Toth, why are you doing this? she could only mumble to herself.
Once the stench of the dead had thoroughly soaked into the jacket, Toth stood up.
He turned his head, his cold, bloodless eyes meeting Rosalina’s.
He walked straight to her and tore the rosary from her neck.
Ignoring her small groan of pain, Toth stared at the object in his hand. A phoenix hanging upside down, framed by torn laurel leaves—a blatant, inverted cross. Every time he saw it, he felt the same way: it was an eyesore. And after what he’d seen from the Bishop, the sight of it made him want to vomit.