The Prime Suspect
Elbridge was momentarily at a loss for words.
When he thought about it, this conversation was an utterly natural development.
He was almost curious how he hadn't considered it until now.
At any rate, the situation had arrived, so he had to respond somehow.
The method Elbridge chose first was a performance delivered with every ounce of his being.
"I see. I wonder where the Silent Knight might be right now?"
"Indeed," Matilda replied, still staring intently at him.
There was even a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It was the exact expression of a mother who had just uncovered her son's secret.
"···."
Matilda was a woman who had dealt with all sorts of people and grown quite sharp from the experience. Trying to fool her with clumsy acting had been a ridiculous idea from the start.
Acting is out. The only thing I can rely on now is my eloquence.
There were two core principles to lying.
First, do not try to deny every single fact.
Second, present plausible evidence to support your claim.
"Matilda, I can tell what you're thinking, but it's a completely absurd notion."
"Is it? You really think so?"
"The idea that the person who went looking for the seal of the rumor was me. You already know that, don't you?"
"Yes, I heard about it."
"I saw it clearly with my own eyes. There were no traces of the first Lord Elbridge in that underground chamber. Which makes perfect sense, of course. Two hundred years is more than enough time for a person to complete their life and for every trace of them to vanish."
"Hmm. But the Silent Knight wasn't an ordinary person. Couldn't he still be alive somewhere?"
Elbridge shook his head.
"Even heroes far greater than the Silent Knight could not overcome the passage of time. Unless we're talking about elves or dwarves..."
"But wasn't the Silent Knight trapped inside a seal? Since it was a seal, maybe something about it was different?"
Matilda meticulously pointed out every possibility.
But backing down here would be tantamount to admitting defeat, so Elbridge stubbornly continued his argument.
"Besides, I'm also bothered by how easily the seal of the great demon was broken. Wouldn't it be far more realistic to assume that the first Lord Elbridge's death weakened the seal?"
This should have been enough to make his story hold together. Elbridge thought so as he looked at Matilda.
But, as expected, her expression remained suspiciously knowing.
···.
Neither acting nor lies were working. So what now?
Fortunately, as her employer, Elbridge had a third option.
"Oh, right. There was actually something I wanted to propose to you, Matilda."
"A proposal?"
"Now that the order has stabilized considerably, there's no need for you to remain a freelance administrative priest. Matilda, have you ever considered becoming a full-fledged priestess?"
The treatment given to a full priest of a mid-tier order was far better than that of a freelance administrative priest.
Sure enough, for the first time since the conversation began, Matilda's eyes wavered.
That hit the mark.
And this offer was also beneficial for the Rusty Shield Order.
The role Matilda currently played within the order was significant. If she continued to assist the order for a long time, it would be an enormous help. The slight increase in expenses was hardly an issue.
"A full priestess..."
"I've been meaning to suggest it for a while, but I was late in asking for your opinion. Things have been quite busy. The position would be Chief Administrative Priestess. What do you think?"
The position of Chief Administrative Priestess did not rank particularly high within an order.
Yet at the same time, it was a recognized key post in any order. For a freelance-level administrative priest to become the Chief Administrative Priestess of a mid-tier order would be a considerable promotion.
Matilda answered with a serious expression.
"I'll actively work to ensure those ridiculous rumors don't spread any further."
Archbishop Elbridge had gained himself an ally.
*
A few days later.
Elbridge pulled the hood of his robe deep over his head and headed toward a shabby tavern.
The tavern's sign read The Scorched Kettle.
Creak—
When he opened the door, the typical scene of an empty tavern unfolded before him.
The interior was dim, there were more cobwebs than customers, and a musty smell hit him before the scent of alcohol.
In one corner of the tavern sat two figures, both wearing their hoods pulled low just like Elbridge.
As Elbridge sat down across from them, a familiar voice rang out.
"Well, if it isn't the Silent Knight himself."
Marcus kept grinning, clearly finding the current situation amusing.
In contrast, Rombel's expression beside him was far from pleasant.
"Rombel. Why do you look like that?"
"Because the Golden Platter Order has been hounding me, that's why. For the past several days, the moment I open my eyes they're at the Magic Tower raising hell... Ugh."
Elbridge silently cheered for the Golden Platter Order in his heart.
Thanks to Rombel carrying out his bizarre plan, Elbridge himself had been suffering almost as much trouble as they had.
"You should be grateful it's only that much. If I were still Vice-Bishop Heinz, I would've sent assassins after you."
Rombel grumbled.
"As if I'd die so easily... And you, Elbridge, have no right to feel wronged."
"Why not?"
"It's not like I spread the rumor without giving you any warning, right? It wasn't just me who failed to consider the possibility of people talking about the Silent Knight. You, Elbridge, Marcus, the Goddess of the Rusty Shield, and even the God of the Fox Rain. Everyone missed it. So it's shared responsibility. Don't you agree?"
The moment Rombel began spouting his sophistry, a divine revelation immediately descended upon Elbridge.
Elbridge. Tell that foolish dwarf this: Your goddess does not symbolize wisdom, but reveals her true worth in other areas...
When Elbridge relayed the revelation's contents verbatim, Marcus chimed in as well.
"The God of the Fox Rain says that while he doesn't symbolize wisdom either, he knew this would happen."
"Then why didn't you give us a hint?"
"He thought this would be more fun..."
Elbridge's expression twisted slightly. The God of the Fox Rain did have a rather eccentric side.
No. It might not be mere whim. Perhaps he believed this situation would benefit the Fox Rain Order more...
At that moment, another revelation descended beside Elbridge's ear.
Elbridge. Tell them that your goddess actually knew everything from the beginning.
It seemed her pride had been wounded.
However, Elbridge did not convey the goddess's revelation. He judged that it would better preserve her dignity.
Rombel scooted his chair closer and asked Elbridge,
"Elbridge. How have things been lately?"
Elbridge shrugged.
"It's gotten a bit better than a few days ago. The Marquis of Soleneon was a big help. Oh, and Matilda too."
On the day he had received the Marquis of Soleneon's invitation in the past, the marquis had promised to make it difficult for other nobles to guess Elbridge's true identity. He had done so by creating false records and a fake portrait of the Silent Knight and hiding them away.
That consideration, which even Elbridge had half-forgotten, had finally begun to take effect recently.
The portrait drawn on the old parchment in particular played a major role. The Silent Knight in the fake portrait had a large scar across his face, and his facial lines were much thicker than Elbridge's. No one would mistake it for the real Elbridge.
Those who believed they had discerned the truth before the public tended to raise their voices.
The people who discovered the fake portrait loudly insisted that Elbridge was not the Silent Knight. Exactly as Elbridge and the Marquis of Soleneon had hoped.
"Still, it doesn't seem enough to completely dispel people's suspicions."
"I suppose not. After all, only a portion of people have seen the portrait... Even today, dozens of people asked me if I was the Silent Knight."
"How about just bravely revealing the truth? 'I am Elbridge, who has devoted two hundred years to all of you!' It sounds pretty cool, doesn't it?"
Elbridge snorted.
"Rombel. Just today, there was someone who tried to set fire to our temple. They claimed I had neglected my duty and unleashed demons upon the world... If I told the truth, the number of arson attempts would probably increase twentyfold."
It would have been convenient if people either believed everything or nothing at all when the truth was revealed.
But people had a tendency to only believe and excerpt the parts they wanted to believe.
"Ugh."
Rombel let out a groan and scratched his cheek.
He does seem to feel sorry about this situation.
Well, if he had any shame, he should.
"Still, you'll get caught eventually. Your actions have been far too conspicuous, Elbridge."
"I know. Even I think it's stranger that I haven't been found out yet. But for now, I have to keep denying it."
"Until when?"
"Until people stop suspecting my intentions."
When would such a day come?
Perhaps it would only arrive after he hunted countless demons, finally sealed every last one of them, or died fighting against the demons.
As the three of them continued their quiet conversation, the tavern door opened again.
Creak—
Another person wearing a robe appeared. He looked around before approaching their table and sitting down.
"It's not exactly been a long time."
It was Vice-Bishop Heinz, the Eastern Diocese Head of the Golden Platter Order.
The reason he had appeared here was simple. He was the one who had gathered Elbridge and the others at this location, saying he had important news.
"What is this important news? Is it...?"
At Elbridge's question, Heinz nodded.
"We've found a clue."
As expected, there was nothing like numbers when it came to gathering information.
"Around the same time period, in a nearby village, there was someone who tried to commission a request with nearly identical details. They weren't wearing the robes of the Golden Platter Order, but... the testimony that the person was of large build matches Dieter's statement. Oh, and they also used rather archaic speech patterns."
It was a highly interesting story.
But Heinz's tone subtly bothered him.
Until recently, Vice-Bishop Heinz had spoken to Elbridge as an equal, yet now he was subtly lowering himself. It was clear that Vice-Bishop Heinz had also heard the rumors circulating among the public.
Of course, now was not the time to dwell on such matters.
"Is that all?"
Heinz shook his head.
"Of course not. There was someone who nearly acted as the intermediary for that request, and separately, there was a person who brought the client to the village by carriage. We found the carriage's point of origin... It was Dickens Territory."
Dickens, Dickens. It was not an unfamiliar name.
Where have I heard that before?
Elbridge's fingers tapped the table in a steady rhythm. Tap tap, tap tap.
And then Elbridge remembered where he had heard the name.
Right after he had been released from the seal.
When he had gone hunting wolf demonic beasts with the old knight Walter and arrived at Riverford Barony.
The lord who had come to see the Baron of Riverford, claiming that all the territory's residents had vanished due to a demon's actions, was none other than Viscount Dickens.
The fact that the one who had broken the great demon's seal had come from Dickens Territory felt far too coincidental.
But the demon that devastated Dickens Territory was... the black giant.
The demon that had appeared in Soleneon at the end of last year—the black giant.
When estimating the black giant's movement direction and possible destination, one of the pieces of information used as a reference had been the time when Dickens Territory was laid to waste.
When his thoughts reached that point, one memory surfaced in Elbridge's mind.
The story Viscount Dickens had told when he visited Riverford Barony.
'There was no one left in my territory.'
'Pardon? No one?'
'Exactly as I said. No one. Adults, children, men, women, farmers, merchants, even my vassals and family—every last one of them. What was even stranger was that there were no bloodstains, no traces of burning, and no signs that the people had fled.'
Viscount Dickens had said that in his territory, there had been no traces of people being killed or even attacked.
If the demon that had swept through Dickens Territory was the black giant, there should have clearly been collapsed buildings and traces of attacks.
Tap tap, tap tap.
Elbridge's fingers were still drumming on the table.
The situation was reconstructing itself inside his head.
What if the demon that struck Dickens Territory wasn't the black giant?
He didn't know. The pieces weren't fitting together perfectly.
But Elbridge's instincts were screaming at him not to let this situation pass lightly.
And right now, there was someone sitting before him who could confirm whether his instincts were correct.
Elbridge asked Heinz,
"Your Grace, the Diocese Head."
"Please speak."
"Last winter, I heard that the Holy Knights of the Golden Platter Order also fought the black giant in Ashpen."
It was not a battle Elbridge had participated in.
But Felix of the Bloodied Spear Order had definitely said so.
He had raged about how the Golden Platter Order had wasted time in Ashpen.
Vice-Bishop Heinz answered,
"That is correct."
"I heard that while rescuing the villagers, people with stigmata died."
"Correct. Those whose stigmata had completely burned away died in agony."
"By any chance... did those bodies disappear?"
Vice-Bishop Heinz thought for a moment before shaking his head.
"I heard they were buried. Whether the buried bodies disappeared from the ground, I cannot say... That is something we cannot know. What is this about?"
Instead of answering, Elbridge closed his eyes.
Viscount Dickens, a lord and a knight.
A large build. Speech patterns different from commoners. Enough martial prowess to easily overpower three ordinary people.
The one who broke the seal.
The place where he had boarded the carriage was Dickens Territory.
Unlike those killed by the black giant, the people of Dickens Territory whose bodies had vanished without a trace.
Dickens Territory, which had been swept away by demons right after Elbridge was released from the seal...
Tap tap, tap tap.
The fingers that had been rhythmically tapping the table finally stopped.
"Viscount Dickens was the demon's first victim... but at the same time, it seems he was also the prime suspect."
Because what Viscount Dickens had lost was so immense, no one had suspected him.
But an arsonist is bound to suffer burns, and a murderer's hands will always bear cut wounds.
"Let us head to Riverford Barony. The Baron of Riverford should still be taking care of Viscount Dickens."