Chapter 143
Chapter 143
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 143
Chapter Title: Fallen Colluder (2)
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“……What is it you want.”
Count Astape hesitated for a long while before finally speaking. He figured Rokan must have some demand since he knew the truth yet hadn’t acted on it immediately.
“How about testifying?”
“……Testifying?”
“Yes. If you serve as a witness, I’ll get you out of this. In exchange, you’ll have to give up the remnants of the corrupted power you’ve gathered.”
“Hmm…….”
It might have sounded like a Zen koan, but Count Astape grasped the intent perfectly. Testify against the others listed in that ledger, and he’d be spared.
He probably couldn’t be completely erased since he’d have to testify, but Rokan would likely coordinate a story framing him as a spy.
It was a highly appealing offer for someone who hadn’t dipped into corrupted power out of grand ambition.
All he’d ever wanted was safety and a life of luxury.
His initial goal had been mere life extension through corrupted power, and he hadn’t even achieved that properly. There was nothing to regret.
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
He didn’t agonize long. If word reached the emperor like this, his life would be forfeit, and all his possessions confiscated for sure.
Hadn’t all races in the Golden Lion faction—not just humans—branded corrupted power as heresy and the work of apostles? Switching sides quickly to secure a new position was actually to his benefit.
“Where are ‘those things’?”
“This way.”
The negotiation ended there.
Neither Rokan nor Count Astape probed or haggled further. They moved straight to action, with Rokan recovering the orbs of corruption the count had received from them before resuming their talk.
Of course, Rokan might change his tune once he had the orbs, but the count had no choice. Even mobilizing all his power, he lacked confidence in subduing Rokan.
Moreover, Rokan was a Visitor who revived upon death.
‘So there was a secret chamber after all.’
Creak. Rumble.
Count Astape manipulated one side of the audience chamber, revealing a door leading somewhere.
It looked like there shouldn’t be space behind it, but upon entering, a surprisingly spacious area appeared.
‘Space expansion magic?’
It seemed either magically altered space or stitched to another dimension, like the hero’s trial.
“Hmm.”
Deeper inside, they found trolls bound tightly, their greenish eyes glowing, alongside mages and alchemists conducting research nearby.
‘They’re studying blood.’
Apparently, they’d layered corrupted power onto trolls with superior regeneration to extract it. If they could link it to cells properly, they figured it might lead to longevity, or even immortality.
Pity stirred seeing the trolls suffer so miserably as test subjects, but this was a game, and they were just monsters.
“Any progress?”
“We’re sorry.”
The researchers feigned surprise at the count arriving with company—instead of alone as usual—but soon bowed like criminals.
They’d succeeded with potent regeneration potions, stamina potions, enhancement potions, even beauty potions, but failed to touch the core they sought.
“Understood. Everyone, leave for today.”
Normally, the count would inspect and depart, but today he dismissed them. These experiments were over.
Their mouths would need sealing separately, but recovering research results and orbs came first.
“The orbs are over there. As for this one…… Do as you please.”
With all researchers gone, Count Astape spoke wearily. It was time to let go.
“I’ll take them.”
Rokan had no reason to refuse. He collected the orbs from the bucket into his inventory and stood before the writhing corrupted troll.
Before granting final rest, he stared intently at Count Astape.
‘A cautious one.’
More precisely, at the darkness beyond him.
Unaware, Count Astape averted his gaze like facing an executioner, and Rokan raised his axe as if resolved.
Slash!
He lopped off the corrupted troll’s head, gaining experience.
“Gah……!”
“Krarrgh!”
As the troll’s head fell, blood spurted from Count Astape too. Not Rokan’s doing—an assassin hidden in the shadows struck perfectly timed from behind.
Not killing outright, the foe twisted a poisoned dagger to damage innards, then punched more holes before trying to flee. But Rokan’s roar halted him.
“Where do you think you’re going!”
Rokan pinned the staggering assassin, stomping his wrist to drop the dagger.
“Who sent you!”
“Kekeke, you thought betraying us would let you live? Once stained by His aura, you can’t survive…… Guhk!”
Thwack!
The captive assassin screamed defiance, but Rokan silenced him with a heavy blow. A fist like a pot lid ensured no more words.
The assassin’s body then swelled.
“Tch.”
Recognizing it, Rokan kicked him far away, pulling back with Astape. He knew what was coming.
Boom!
Self-destruct. Reversing corrupted power to turn oneself into a bomb—the assassin ended his own life that way.
“Antidote first!”
“Cough!”
Confirming death, Rokan immediately treated Astape’s poison.
He had high-grade antidote, so detox was easy, but plummeting vitality was the issue.
The assassin’s skill inflicted ongoing damage via corrupted power.
Thus, even with Rokan’s potion, Astape couldn’t heal properly; refilled vitality drained rapidly again. His base vitality was low to begin with.
“No…… I can’t die like this…….”
Too much blood loss? Consciousness faded. Possessions gained and lost flashed by like a montage, intensifying his attachment to life.
“Save me. I’ll do anything, just……!”
Flash of lucidity.
Desperate clinging to life burned Astape’s vitality to the last.
“Th-this is…….”
Then, a single paper appeared before his eyes.
Rokan’s proffered ‘contract’.
Blatantly one-sided, crammed with unfair terms. It stripped everything he owned in exchange for a monthly pension-like stipend. No, it was outright fraud.
But ignoring it wasn’t viable. The offer was too extreme—sparing his life.
As long as his noble title endured, he could rebuild some wealth even without past assets. Death ended everything.
So, even dying, he signed the contract. Worst case, no loss.
“Save me now…….”
Thwack!
The instant he signed, Rokan delivered certain death—contrary to the contract’s promise of salvation.
“Good.”
Breath stopped. All vital signs ceased.
Yet with it, the corrupted power burrowing into his organs dispersed.
This power reacted to the living, after all.
It could affect undead but couldn’t create them.
“Phoenix’s Tail, use.”
Once the corpse fully cooled, Rokan used another item.
Phoenix’s Tail.
A unique item resurrecting the dead!
It worked on users and NPCs alike.
‘Can’t prevent death by old age, but in cases like this, it’s an absolute bargaining chip.’
Truth was, Rokan had known about the assassin from the start.
Those colluding with the Fallen had disguised watchers attached somehow.
Thus, he’d anticipated and allowed the death, then revived him.
And with revival, the contract regained validity. It activated.
“No, how……?”
One reason Phoenix’s Tail was amazing: it restored the revived to perfect condition.
Ravaged innards realigned, corrupted power gone. His body was better than ever, healthier even.
“Unbelievable…….”
Count Astape gawked in disbelief, but before him loomed the signed contract.
“Believe it slowly. Now, time to honor your promise.”
“Th-that’s…….”
Like the saying about entering and exiting the bathroom differently, revived Astape reconsidered—but his thoughts meant nothing now. The contract held binding force.
Plus, whining to renegotiate against Rokan?
“……Understood.”
After brief hesitation, Count Astape yielded to reality. He’d lose everything built up, but Rokan guaranteed minimal living expenses.
‘This way, he won’t plot revenge.’
Rokan let him keep the lord’s castle for use, providing 100 gold monthly—plenty for the leisurely life he craved.
‘Though he might die before that.’
No guarantee against more assassins, of course.
No inheritance clause for the pension; death ended support. His family? No need to care.
‘Busy times ahead.’
Negotiation done, Rokan rushed paperwork transferring all assets, then sent letters to the council, emperor, and investigation team. He’d use Astape’s testimony to nab the Fallen group and colluders properly.
But he omitted the ‘ledger’. Who knew how things might shift.
Suspicion lingered, so post-processing, he handed Astape to the investigation team and awaited trial.
Given the severity, trial was in three days. Meanwhile, Rokan sorted Astape’s unearned domains.
“Whew, he hoarded quite the pile.”
Checking the territory window, Astape’s wealth was staggering.
Even as fellow counts, Rokan’s piecemeal conquests paled.
Not just main territory Astape, but multiple subordinates, all prime land yielding massive taxes.
No wonder he dreamed of long life frittering away.
Administration was solid—no tweaks needed—but cities so advanced that surveying took time. So Rokan focused on one thing.
Research using corrupted power.
Researchers claimed scant success, but Rokan saw differently.
Regeneration potions, stamina potions, frenzy potions—whatever. He eyed one: beauty potions.