Chapter 63
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 63
“Get on my back. The residents are fighting the undead right now. We have to go back.”
“Fighting…? Are people going to die again? No. I’m not going. Captain, listen. Toth, because of me…”
“Pull yourself together, Rosalina. Right now…”
“Toth… Toth…”
“Rosalina. Did Toth resent you when he died?”
“…”
“If not, then it’s not your fault. You’re the one who survived.”
His solemn voice was low and heavy. Rosalina fell silent. After staring at the ground for a long time with hollow, exhausted eyes, she finally spoke again.
This time, her voice was no longer steeped in despair.
“…Captain, they weren't ordinary undead.”
“What?”
“We need help.”
“What are you talking about, Rosalina?”
“The Knight.”
The girl was serious.
“We need the Knight’s help.”
A brief silence followed as the Captain fell into thought.
Rosalina had said they weren't ordinary undead. He didn't know what that meant, but if such things existed, they needed help.
He didn't trust the Knight. However, that distrust was only toward the promise that ‘everyone would be saved once the job was done.’ The sincerity the Knight had shown while investigating Hastin was undeniable.
His claim that he wanted to save Hastin was likely true as well.
Above all, the Knight was the only one he could turn to for help right now.
“He’s probably at the Lord’s Castle.”
When he had tracked the Knight earlier, the armored man’s footprints had vanished near that area.
The Captain glanced at Rosalina. Seeing that the trembling in her legs had subsided slightly after she drank the water, he continued.
“Rosalina, you go.”
“Captain, I don’t think I can walk anymore. I’ll wait here, so you go instead.”
“I am the Captain.”
The Captain scoffed, the words sounding pathetic even to his own ears. He thought that perhaps he wasn't a captain but a thug—no, maybe he wasn't even worthy of being called that. But one thing was certain.
“I can’t leave my comrades behind.”
—And the castle was much safer than the battlefield.
How could he put Rosalina back in danger after Toth had traded his life to save her?
He rummaged through his clothes again. After taking back the water canteen, the Captain held out a very small flask.
“This is…”
“You won’t be able to run with those legs.”
It was a tiny vial of potion.
Even heavily diluted, it was a precious item that residents of the back alleys could never hope to obtain.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Leaving her with those words, the Captain hurried away. As soon as Rosalina steeled her resolve, she uncapped the flask.
*
By the time the Captain reached the battlefield, the clamor that had been ringing in his ears had mostly died down.
“W-we won!”
Cheers and shouts erupted from all sides. It was a clean victory, bordering on a miracle.
The mages had played a massive role, and the guards had fought with surprising skill for men who usually just stood watch at the gates of a quiet town. It went without saying that the retired mercenary and the Captain of the Guard were exceptionally talented.
The number of corpses piled on the ground exceeded two hundred by a rough count. Only five humans had died.
The dead humans were missing their heads. To prevent them from turning into undead, the guards had decapitated their own comrades without hesitation. This, too, was a reason for their victory.
“We just need to finish off those last three, and it’s over!” one of the guards shouted to the Captain of the Guard.
Only three undead remained.
They were standing there, unnervingly still. They remained dazed about twenty meters away, making no move to attack.
“We’ll handle them. We’ve learned their patterns, so we can take them down without a problem.”
“…Wait.”
The retired mercenary and the Captain of the Guard held out their hands, stopping the excited guards from charging.
Something was wrong. Instincts forged in battle screamed that those three were different.
As they kept their distance, on high alert, the undead in the center took a single step forward.
At the same time, someone collapsed behind them.
It was a mage. He fell backward onto the ground, his teeth chattering as his trembling finger pointed toward the central undead.
His finger was desperately screaming a silent message: Can’t you feel that mana?
“A-Arch Lich…”
Before anyone could process the word, the two undead flanking the Arch Lich charged.
Their movements were entirely different from the undead before. Closing the distance that had felt safe in an instant, they lunged at the guards on the front line.
Before anyone could react, a head exploded. A fountain of blood sprayed from a guard’s neck.
A Ghoul.
The retired mercenary screamed, the name of the monster from his past flashing through his mind along with the faces of the comrades who had died so helplessly.
“Run! Evacuate everyone! Now!”
*
“Wow, they’ve really made an unsalvageable mess of things. Boss, you should come take a look. It’s absolute chaos.”
“It’s not our business, so why should I bother?”
“Actually, it is our business.”
His habit of washing his hands of things the moment they get tedious never changes, Patrick thought with a hollow laugh as he looked out the window. He spoke in a cheerful voice, but the situation was anything but.
The events unfolding on the ground below were quite the spectacle.
The number of humans visible in the distance exceeded a thousand. Since Patrick knew the population of Hastin was just over nine thousand, this meant that most of the people living in the path of the undead’s advance had gathered.
Those huddled townspeople were currently fighting skeletons and zombies.
“Oh, they’re putting up quite a fight.”
Perhaps because this was a Count’s territory, a crude defensive line had been established around the guards. There were even a couple of humans who looked like mages.
“How long do you think they’ll last?” Swallow asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Patrick answered immediately, as if the conclusion was foregone. “Not long.”
On the surface, the humans had the upper hand.
They had enough weapons, and their defensive formation was decent for something thrown together on the spot. Their cooperation wasn't bad either, considering they had all been holed up in their homes for weeks.
They could certainly block the ‘initial’ wave of undead.
—If it weren't for the thousands more pouring out from beyond the veil in the distance.
Furthermore, according to Uhomel, there were Elders mixed in among them. With the humans' current strength, even stopping a single ordinary Elder would be a struggle.
“A one-way veil that blocks escape but allows entry… I’ve never seen anything like it. Regardless, Erebos went to great lengths to prepare this, Boss. I think it’s about time we returned the favor.”
“A favor, huh…” Swallow chuckled.
How would the usual Patrick have acted? He would have nagged incessantly, asking if Swallow understood the repercussions of causing friction between the Great Evil Caves. For him to suggest returning the favor meant the situation was serious. Swallow found it tedious, but he had no intention of being lenient.
If something posed a direct threat to the Primordial Core, it was better to pull it out by the roots, even if it was a hassle.
“Of course we have to return the favor. But first, I’m going to finish what I started.”
Swallow, who had been silently rubbing the back of his neck, began to walk. In the room that had fallen silent after the ceiling stopped collapsing, only the low sound of his footsteps echoed.
He stopped in front of the Lord.
“You. Your name?” Swallow asked. Though his tone was casual, the Lord trembled as if terrified.
“It is… Lara Cinebier Etarque.”
“Ah, Lara whatever. Fine, I’ve got it.”
Human names are all so damn long; I can’t be bothered to memorize them. Swallow waved his hand dismissively at Lara’s complicated name.
“I’m Swallow.”
She didn't seem particularly surprised, likely having guessed as much from their conversation. He continued anyway.
“I’m going to finish what I was saying earlier. So, here’s the thing.”
A half-beat of silence.
Then, a chilling voice.
“You said you wanted to live, right?”
He tilted Lara’s chin up with his index finger.
Swallow’s image was reflected in Lara’s exhausted eyes. While Swallow’s pupils were filled with darkness, Lara’s were utterly empty.
The weak Lord gave a small nod. Swallow’s voice became a level softer.
“I am willing to let you live.”
At the sweet proposal, a spark of life returned to Lara’s eyes.
For Patrick, however, it felt like his own life was draining away. His blue eye-light shrank in bewilderment as he reached toward Swallow.
“What? Excuse me, Boss? What is this sudden nonsense? Shouldn't we kill her?”
“I was going to, but I changed my mind.”
“What could you possibly use her for? Hastin is already beyond saving.”
“Patrick, think about it. The reason we've all but given up on Hastin is because of the undead, right?”
“Well, yes.”
“If all the undead in Hastin disappear and the Lord does exactly as we want, there’s no reason to throw Hastin away, is there?”
“No, what kind of bullsh—”
In the middle of his annoyed outburst, Patrick changed his tune.
“—it would be a tragedy, I thought, but now that you mention it, it might be worth reconsidering.”
Using a human even after they knew the truth, instead of killing them.
It was a novel idea. At the very least, it was a method Patrick, who operated on the premise of treating humans as disposable, could never have imagined.
Why had they given up on Hastin? Because the undead situation had spiraled out of control, and because the Lord had learned the truth.
The first problem was just a nuisance; it wasn't impossible to handle. They were planning on killing all the undead anyway.
The real problem was the second one.
As he had thought several times, the Lord had no replacement. More accurately, if the current Lord died, it would take a long time for a successor to take her place. A territory without a master would descend into lawlessness. If left alone for even a week, the town would fall into such ruin that it would be impossible to restore.
“Keeping the Lord alive is one way to go about it.”
Recycling the Lord who knew the truth instead of killing her…
“I get the gist of it, Boss. Since the townspeople don’t know our identities, we can keep pretending to be knights. If we give the Lord credit for driving out the undead, there won’t be any major issues managing the territory later.”
However, there was one glaring blind spot.
“But humans are loose-lipped. What are you going to do about that?”
There was no guarantee a human who knew the truth would keep the secret. This was a fact learned through countless experiences. Even if threatened with death, humans would eventually talk. Whether it was out of a secret confidence that they wouldn't get caught, or because the anxiety of keeping the secret was too much to bear—the reason didn't matter.
The problem was that the human who heard the secret was also loose-lipped, and the truth would spread like a web until it reached the ears of the ruling class.
“Patrick, did you hear what that human said earlier?” Swallow asked in return.
After a moment of thought, Patrick asked, “What did she say?”
“She said, ‘I must live.’”
Not that she wants to live.
She said she must live.
“Wouldn't a human trying that desperately to survive avoid doing anything that would invite death?”
“And we’re going to bet everything on just that?”
“You have to add my intuition to it.”
“I’d prefer it if you left out intuition and put in some logic… Boss, you aren't just doing this because you’re lazy and want to get this over with quickly, are you?”
Swallow quickly looked away. So that was why he was suddenly suggesting a different approach.
“Hah.”
With a sigh, Patrick’s gaze darted back and forth between Swallow and the Lord.
Neither of them is particularly trustworthy…
After enduring a moment of profound agony, Patrick sighed and relented. “If that’s what you want, Boss, what can I do? But if you mess this up, you’re definitely the one cleaning up your own mess.”
Without answering, Swallow flashed a satisfied smile and turned back to Lara.
“You were eavesdropping, so you get the gist of it, right? Choose. I can get rid of all the undead. I can save Hastin, and I can save you. All you have to do is say the words: ‘Please save me.’”
The Lord was silent. Realizing that silence would not lead to a good outcome, her answer finally came.
“If I say that… what happens afterward?”
“It’s simple. Once the undead are driven out, Patrick over there will help you, heart and soul, until peace returns to Hastin.”
“Boss, who did you just sell out?”
“Patrick will provide food for your starving people, and Patrick will provide funds to reactivate trade. Patrick will even block monster invasions.”
“What?”
At Patrick’s protest, Swallow pouted his lower lip. As this playful banter continued even in such a serious situation, Lara found it impossible to make sense of what was happening.