Chapter 238: King of the Dead Subjugation (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 238: King of the Dead Subjugation (2)
A man lunged forward, swinging his sword in time with his stride.
Isaac dodged the blow, releasing the dagger he’d driven into a burly man’s hand to deliver a punch straight to the swordsman’s face.
The man’s features caved in instantly.
Crack!
With the sickening sound of shattering bone, the man was sent spiraling through the air.
Crash!
His body hurtled across the room, overturning several tables and bouncing off the floor before finally slamming into the outer wall. He was out cold before he even hit the ground.
For a moment, the atmosphere froze. Such overwhelming force was not something often witnessed in a backwater rural area like this.
However, the group of thugs quickly regrouped. Not knowing the true extent of Isaac’s strength, they decided to rely on their numbers and sheer bulk to overwhelm him.
Isaac didn’t wait. He kicked off the ground, a blur of motion.
For the next few minutes, a cacophony of violence leaked from the tavern: the splintering of wooden tables and chairs, the shattering of glass bottles, and desperate shouts. But above all else, the most prominent sound was the chorus of agonizing screams.
Alice had planned to intercept anyone trying to flee, but her services weren't needed. No one made it to the door.
A moment later, Alice stepped into the now-silent tavern.
“Isaac, are you finished?”
“Not yet.”
Inside the wrecked tavern, the human traffickers lay scattered, their limbs encased in jagged shards of ice. Every one of them had broken bones or heavy bleeding; not a single inch of their bodies had been spared.
The chilling cold from the ice restraints seeped into their marrow, leaving them groaning in rhythmic, shivering pain.
Isaac stood over the burly man, the dagger still protruding from his hand, and peered down at him. Tears and snot streamed down the man’s face.
“I-I’m sorry…! I’m sorry! Please, make it stop…!”
Isaac gave the dagger embedded in his hand a slow, deliberate twist.
“Aaaaargh!!”
The man’s scream was a broken, sobbing mess.
“I’m still waiting for an answer,” Isaac said, adjusting his glasses. His cold, detached demeanor struck a primal fear into the trafficker’s heart.
“S-sixty-five…! I saw them four days ago! According to my estimates and the ledgers, that’s how many there are…!”
“How many people are transported, and how often?”
“Every five days…! It doesn’t matter how many. The more, the better! They said they’d pay more for higher volume…!”
It was significant progress. Although the number of sacrifices wasn't yet sufficient for the ritual, if left unchecked, Isaac would have met a sudden death within two weeks.
Isaac looked over at Alice.
“Alice, stay here and keep things under control until the others arrive.”
“Take care of yourself.”
Isaac conjured more ice restraints to secure the burly man and headed for the tavern’s basement. He had already mapped out the layout using [Clairvoyance].
The eerie basement was lined with several cramped cells. Only seven adults and five children—boys and girls—were currently imprisoned.
The adults, haggard and worn to the bone, looked up with brightening eyes at the sight of Isaac. They pleaded desperately for rescue, promising him anything in exchange for their lives.
Boom!
Isaac shattered the cell doors with a controlled [Frost Explosion], breaking the shackles binding the prisoners with the same precision.
“Go. Now.”
“Thank you, thank you…!”
They scrambled out of the basement as fast as their weakened legs could carry them.
Next, Isaac broke into the cell where the children were held. All but one flinched, trembling in terror as he entered. Isaac leaned down and offered a gentle, bright smile.
“It’s okay. Let’s get you out of here.”
The children’s faces showed a fragile mix of relief and suspicion. Isaac did his best to reassure them, explaining that they didn't have to stay in the dark anymore and that a kind lady was waiting for them upstairs. Though they couldn't fully grasp the situation, the hope of escape was enough to send them rushing out of the cell.
However, one girl remained rooted to the spot, as if her feet were glued to the floor.
She was a bit older than the others—perhaps in her mid-teens.
“…”
Isaac waited for her to move, but she simply stared at him with an intense, unblinking gaze. He couldn't sense a shred of fear coming from her.
It wasn't that she was delusional; she seemed to understand exactly what was happening. She simply didn't feel afraid.
“Why aren’t you leaving?”
The girl pointed a finger at Isaac.
“You’re a Prince from a fairy tale.”
She smiled, comparing the man who had come to her rescue to the hero of a storybook.
Isaac felt a small sense of relief. If she viewed him as a Prince, perhaps it would help mitigate the trauma of her ordeal.
The girl wore a red cloak and possessed an elegant, refined beauty. However, despite her looks, there was no hint of nobility in her worn attire. If she had been snatched by traffickers, she likely didn't come from a powerful or wealthy family.
“Where is your mother?” Isaac asked.
“She’s dead.”
“Your father?”
“Dead.”
“…Are you from this village?”
“No.”
“How did you get here?”
“I rode a magic beast.”
“Where is the beast?”
“Dead.”
The girl answered every question with a constant, eerie smile, as if she were enjoying the conversation. Isaac realized then that her mind was fractured.
He sighed and apologized for prying into her parents' deaths, but the girl only tilted her head. “Why are you apologizing?”
There was no point in explaining. Isaac reached out and took her by the wrist.
“Let’s just get out of here for now.”
“Prince, your hand is big.”
Isaac led the girl out of the underground prison.
*
“Thank you for your hard work, Ice Sovereign.”
“Please, take care of them.”
“Leave it to us.”
The traffickers and the rescued prisoners were handed over to the followers of the Helize Church, who had been trailing Isaac from a distance.
The Saintess, who had chosen to become Isaac’s ally, had assigned her most trusted followers to him. These men and women were all affiliated with the Academy Church.
While the Holy Kingdom of Bardio was founded on the separation of religion and politics, it still felt a responsibility toward its citizens, much like the Empire. Therefore, it was more efficient to leave the welfare of the Empire’s commoners to the Helize Church, which formed the backbone of Bardio.
The followers were stationed across various branches Isaac had identified. They had a standing agreement: whenever Isaac’s subordinates struck a branch, the Helize Church would handle the aftermath.
Now, it was time to head straight for the Ropenheim Barony. As Isaac and Alice prepared to board their carriage, the girl in the red cloak approached.
“What’s your name, Prince?”
She seemed to want a proper goodbye before they parted ways.
“Isaac.”
“I’m Michelle. Isaac oppa, can I give you a gift?”
The way she called him oppa didn't bother him… much.
“What is it?”
She gestured for him to lean in. Isaac bent down to match her height. She gently placed a hand on his forehead and closed her eyes.
“May the blessing of the incarnation be with you,” she murmured softly.
When she opened her eyes, Isaac felt nothing out of the ordinary.
“What was that?”
“I prayed for you,” Michelle said with a smile.
She appeared to be an ordinary girl, both in terms of her level and her constitution. Her spirit was in tatters, which explained her strange psychological state, but her intent seemed pure.
Well, I’ll take it as a good omen.
“Thank you.”
“If you’re grateful, then marry me in the future.”
“…?”
The proposal was so sudden Isaac was momentarily stunned.
“I fell for you at first sight,” she added boldly.
It was a remarkably daring thing for a girl to say to a man she had just met, but her innocence made Isaac chuckle.
“Michelle, marriage isn't something you decide so easi—”
“Isaac.”
Alice suddenly appeared at his side. She grabbed his hands with both of hers, pressing her chest firmly against his arm.
“It’s time to go. We’re on a tight schedule, aren’t we?”
“…?”
Isaac had been planning to leave anyway. “Yes, let’s go,” he said, turning to board the carriage.
“Michelle, was it? You’ve been through a lot… it must have been terrifying. It’s okay now, you can relax. Since you’re young, the Church will take good care of you.”
Alice spoke with forced kindness, patting Michelle’s head through her red hood.
The two girls locked eyes. Alice maintained a gentle, hollow smile, while Michelle let out a sudden, cold laugh.
Isaac watched Michelle through the open carriage door. “Take care. If you need anything, tell the Church.”
Alice climbed in and pulled the door shut. The carriage lurched forward and departed.
For a long time, Michelle stood in the road, quietly watching the carriage disappear into the distance.
*
“What… what is this…?”
The transport wagon had been flipped over, its wheels spinning uselessly in the air. The followers of the Helize Church had been neutralized, lying unconscious with blood splattered across the dirt.
Only one follower managed to regain consciousness quickly. Ignoring the searing pain in his neck, he surveyed the scene. His mind was a fog, but the reality was gruesome.
They had been transporting the prisoners Isaac had rescued. Then, an unknown assailant had struck the driver, causing the crash.
The human traffickers, however, were no longer just unconscious. They were corpses.
A fluttering sound, accompanied by a terrified groan, drew the follower’s attention. He turned his head toward the noise.
A girl in a red cloak was walking through the puddles of blood. In her hands, she gripped strange hatchets of unknown origin.
A muscular man, missing an arm, was crawling away from her in a desperate frenzy. Michelle’s pace didn't falter. Her golden eyes glinted with a predatory light.
“S-save me…! Please…!”
“Don’t beg.”
Michelle shook her head coldly and raised a hatchet.
“You’re no different from the foolish wolf.”
Squelch!
Michelle swung the hatchet in a blur. The blade tore through the man’s throat and buried itself deep in his chest. He barely managed a gurgle before the light left his eyes.
Michelle’s billowing cloak was the color of fresh blood, a perfect match for the dark memories and sworn vows she carried within her. She wiped a spray of red from her cheek with the back of her hand, her expression as calm as if she were performing a mundane chore.
These men were wolves that devoured people. Michelle had allowed herself to be captured by them specifically to find their leader and exterminate the entire pack.
But Isaac had stepped in and done the heavy lifting for her. Seeing his incredible strength even from behind bars, she had decided there was no need for her to reveal herself then.
Now, there was only a little work left.
Just trimming the branches.
Michelle’s hatchets dissolved into mana and seeped back into her body. She made eye contact with the conscious follower.
Overwhelmed by a wave of pure terror, the man squeezed his eyes shut and prayed fervently. “O Lord, please protect this foolish servant…”
Michelle ignored him. She adjusted her red cloak and walked away into the night.
*
Deep in the night, a persistent knocking echoed through the entrance of Baron Ropenheim’s mansion.
The attendant grumbled to himself, wondering who could possibly be calling at such an ungodly hour as he went to unbar the door.
Standing on the threshold was a young man with silver-blue hair. It was Isaac. The attendant felt a strange sense of unease at the youth’s familiar appearance.
“Excuse me, is Baron Ropenheim in?”
Isaac asked politely, a pleasant smile on his face.
Despite his unease, the attendant scowled, annoyed that someone was looking for the Baron in the middle of the night.