Chapter 214: Darkness of the North (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 214: Darkness of the North (1)
In a small hollow within a forest somewhere in the southern part of the United Kingdoms, five people sat together.
The group consisted of four men and one woman.
“So—you’re really going to do this?”
“I am.”
The woman was the first to speak.
She scowled as if she found the current situation distasteful, but the man who answered, Toolman, wore a thick, greasy smile.
“We are going to steal an item belonging to Count Palatio.”
“No matter how much I think about it, it sounds like suicide—”
The woman voiced her complaints, and another man beside her nodded in agreement.
However, Toolman—the man with a large scar across his face who ran the 'Black Hand,' an organization quite famous within the underworld of the United Kingdoms—spoke again.
“No, we’re doing it. In fact, we have to.”
“...Is it really worth the risk?”
“Absolutely.”
“Is there a reason you’re so insistent?”
“Of course there is.”
With a smile full of confidence, Toolman thrust a request form with an attached illustration in front of the other executives, who were watching him with suspicious eyes.
“What’s this?”
“A bracelet?”
As the executives slowly scanned the request form, their pupils—
“...??!”
—began to dilate.
It was only natural. The number of gold coins written at the bottom of the request was a sum that defied their very understanding.
“...Is this for real?”
“Yeah. I even went and verified it myself, just in case.”
“I thought we’d handled some big money in our time, but this... this is unheard of. No—wait. Can they even afford to pay this much gold?”
“I told you. I verified it.”
At Toolman’s assertion, everyone’s jaws dropped.
This was... real?
If so—
“It might be worth risking our lives for.”
“I suppose so.”
“Technically, it’s not even risking our lives. It’s just stealing one item. What’s the big deal?”
“Well... the fact that it’s Count Palatio is a bit concerning, but—”
The man who had been siding with the woman in opposition also gave a cautious nod.
“Honestly, at this price, it’s tempting. It’s not like we’re doing anything else; stealing is our specialty.”
“But what on earth is that bracelet that it commands such an absurd reward?”
It was a natural question. However, Toolman dismissed it lightly.
“Does it matter? From our perspective, we just deliver the item and take the money.”
“True enough.”
“Now then, since we seem to be in agreement, shall we get to work immediately?”
At Toolman’s words, greed flickered in the eyes of the executives as they stared at the request form.
“Let’s start with some light scouting.”
Of course, Toolman’s eyes were no different.
A thick, dark greed swirled within them.
* * *
About two weeks had passed since they set out for Asteria.
“Delicious.”
Alon, who was savoring a sweet potato as usual, watched the scene before him.
[Gwaaaah! I told you not to touch me!!]
Basiliora was shouting in rage with a mouth full of sweet potato, while—
[Kyu?]
—Blackie, completely unbothered, continued to poke Basiliora repeatedly.
Alon thought to himself, ‘Come to think of it, Blackie has been absorbing abominations constantly, but there hasn't been much of a change.’
Right after defeating the Apostle of Sloth, Blackie had absorbed Kraksha as it crumbled into dust.
‘They said it gets stronger by eating abominations—does it evolve all at once or something?’
As Alon chewed his sweet potato and pondered, Blackie, sensing his gaze, stopped bothering Basiliora and looked toward him. It hopped over and—
Rub, rub.
It began to act cute, rubbing its face vigorously against Alon’s foot.
Alon gently stroked its head, feeling that the creature had become strangely more affectionate lately.
‘It used to be a bit more chic.’
It had always been friendly toward Alon, but he wondered if it had always been this clingy. While Alon was marveling at this, Blackie, despite its display of affection, kept stealing glances at Alon’s chest where the brooch was pinned.
Just as Alon was about to tilt his head in confusion—
“Count.”
Evan, who was peeling a potato unlike the others, called out to him.
“What is it?”
“You know those organizations you mentioned before? The ones I told you had completely vanished.”
“Ah, those?”
“Yes. You seemed a bit suspicious back then, so I looked into it again. They’re definitely gone. Since then—ah, I heard an organization called the ‘Black Hand’ has been very active.”
“The Black Hand?”
“Yes. They were on the list you asked me to look into before. Apparently, they’ve become quite famous.”
“Hmm.”
Alon nodded, sweet potato in hand.
The Black Hand.
It was an organization Alon knew very well.
They were scoundrels who primarily dealt in theft and kidnapping for ransom. In Alon’s memory, they were engraved as a rather bothersome bunch.
There were several reasons for this.
First, they were ‘slippery.’
Unlike many other organizations in Psychedelia, the Black Hand never revealed their hideout and never tried to fight their opponents head-on. Because they harassed players through methods other than direct combat, they were more annoying than one could imagine.
Furthermore, because they operated as a cell-based organization, taking out one executive didn't deal a significant blow to the group as a whole.
Moreover, no matter which kingdom a player headed to at the start of the game, the Black Hand would inevitably latch onto them once their fame grew. Unless the player invested in specific stats, these persistent pests would constantly attempt to plunder their items until the organization was completely eradicated in the late game.
Consequently, Psychedelia players loathed the Black Hand.
This was especially true for ‘concept players’ who didn't follow the developer's intended builds but instead maxed out specific stats for roleplay. They hated the Black Hand more than anyone.
Naturally, Alon, who had experienced having hard-earned materials stolen overnight, despised them as well.
‘...It would be best if I didn't have to deal with them.’
However, since there was no immediate way to wipe them out, Alon let out a sigh and took another bite of his sweet potato.
“Mmm.”
The sweet potato was delicious.
Another week passed.
By the time Alon had stabilized the magic he had been researching with Penia, the carriage arrived in Teria, the capital of the Asteria Kingdom.
And there—
“Hello, Teacher.”
“Yutia...?”
Yutia was there.
She bowed her head with a smile as bright as sunshine.
Watching her, Alon asked, “I didn't expect to see you in Asteria. Are you here on business?”
“Yes, there are a few things, but primarily I have a meeting with the Queen of Asteria.”
Alon nodded. It wasn't particularly unusual for a Cardinal to meet with a King.
Meanwhile, Yutia lowered her gaze to check the red brooch pinned to Alon’s chest pocket, her red lips parting.
“I’m glad to see you’re making good use of the brooch.”
“It would be a waste to leave a gift just sitting on a shelf.”
“That’s a relief. I was worried you might just keep it as a decoration.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to wear it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Then, will you promise me?”
Yutia held up her pinky finger.
Alon gave a faint smile and hooked his pinky with hers.
After their brief greeting, the two of them walked up toward the royal castle of Asteria together.
“Go ahead first. I’ll wait.”
“Thank you for your consideration, Teacher.”
Yutia bowed slightly to Alon, who had yielded his turn, and headed toward the audience chamber first.
After a suitable amount of time had passed—
“Count Palatio, I will escort you now.”
It was Alon’s turn.
The knight bowed politely and requested to lead the way.
Alon followed him, and once again, he was led not to the audience chamber, but to Siyan’s private office.
“It’s been a while.”
“I greet Your Majesty.”
Alon offered a formal greeting.
“Take a seat first.”
At the invitation, Alon sat down, and Siyan stared at him with a look of great amusement.
“I’ve heard many tumultuous stories lately. Seeing as you’ve come to find me, I assume you’ve been to Greinif.”
“I have.”
When Alon confirmed it, Siyan nodded with satisfaction, but then paused.
“I am very curious about that story, but before that, there is something I wish to ask.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“By any chance, are you and Cardinal Yutia—”
Alon tilted his head, wondering why Yutia’s name was coming up now.
“—in love with each other?”
At the following sentence—
“...Pardon?”
—for a moment, Alon almost forgot his manners.
* * *
Fulton, one of the executives of the Black Hand and the man who boasted the greatest stealth abilities among them, was observing Count Palatio from a cliff overlooking the city walls.
‘For someone with such an enormous reputation, he doesn't feel particularly special.’
That was his first impression upon seeing the Count.
Fulton had heard many rumors about Count Palatio. The rumors were consistent: they all praised the Count’s strength, leaving even those who heard them in awe.
However, contrary to what he had heard, the Count looked quite ordinary, aside from his expressionless, cold demeanor.
Furthermore, judging by his own standards, the Count’s power level didn't seem particularly outstanding.
‘For a mage, he’s at best 4th Tier... no, maybe 5th Tier by now?’
Of course, appearances weren't everything. Even though he knew that truth, the Count seemed so mundane that Fulton couldn't help but let out a smirk.
“At that level, forget just stealing from him—I could probably take him down myself.”
He muttered with an air of leisure.
Of course, he wasn't being entirely serious. Having survived in the underworld since he was very young, he never judged or dismissed someone based solely on their appearance.
Nevertheless, the fact that Count Palatio’s level only appeared to be that much was strange.
“Hmm...”
As Fulton pondered for a moment—
“Are you saying you’re going to take down the Count?”
“Who else would I be talking about?”
“And why, pray tell, would you dare try to take him down?”
Fulton answered the voice beside him out of habit—
“This bastard’s talking down to me again. I’m just trying to make one big score and retire—”
—and then he realized something was wrong.
He was currently in hiding, scouting Count Palatio.
In other words, he was here alone, without any subordinates.
Therefore, there should be no one to ask him questions, and no reason for him to be answering...
Confused, Fulton turned his head to the side.
And there, he saw them.
“Right, so what were you going to do to the Count?”
Staring straight at him—
“What were you going to do?”
—were Elves, their faces twisted in terrifying fury.