Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Demon Baron (6)
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"……."
"……."
With the fallen baron right before their eyes, a brief silence stretched out. Kadim took the first step, and Duncan, grunting as he clambered over the palisade, hurried to catch up.
"I, is he dead, my lord?"
"Not yet."
As he'd said, the baron was still breathing, however faintly. But with wounds that deep, any hope of pulling through seemed remote. Blood kept surging endlessly from the rents in his quilted armor.
Kadim looked down at him and spoke flatly.
"Impressive strength, Baron. Piercing that thick armor in one strike."
The baron's lips twitched, curling up in a sneer.
"Ha, haha... Without the demon's power, it would've been impossible..."
"……."
"This time too... this time too..."
Kadim narrowed his eyes. Then, abruptly, he drew Mosquito. Duncan flinched, thinking he meant to finish the baron off.
But instead of swinging the blade, Kadim pressed the hilt into the baron's hand.
He then laid the flat of the blade against his own forearm and made a shallow cut.
"N-no, my lord! What are you—"
Contrary to Duncan's alarm, it wasn't pointless self-harm. Mosquito's vampiric effect worked even when held by another.
The blade drank in its master's blood and mended the baron's wounds. Faint smoke rose from the deep puncture. Color crept back into the baron's ashen face.
"Ugh... ergh..."
But it was only a temporary reprieve from death. Healing wounds that grave would require the blood of at least a hundred men. A single sip wasn't nearly enough.
Kadim wiped the blood from the blade and sank into a cross-legged seat.
"When mortals face a demon, all their noble aspirations shatter, leaving only bone-deep terror and a desperate craving for survival."
"……."
"Yet you, Baron—even crushed, like a bug gnashing its mandibles—never gave up. You drove out the demon's lingering will through your own resolve and chose mutual destruction to the end."
"……."
"So enough with the self-recrimination. That iron will isn't something just anyone can muster. The blood I just offered is my tribute to your steel resolve."
Duncan's eyes widened.
Until now, he'd thought the barbarian saw humans as mere meat. He'd never imagined him capable of such respect.
The baron blinked in stunned disbelief. Kadim continued in his usual gruff tone, but laced with a hint of reverence.
"Of course, even I can't bring you back to life. But I can keep you company until the end. If there's anything left unsaid in this world, spill it without regret, Baron."
"...Ha, haha. What an honor... To have a warrior like you as my final companion..."
He coughed violently, blood welling up. Swallowing it back with effort, the baron opened his mouth.
"Hear out the ramblings of a dying wretch... A tale of me... no, of Molden and me."
"……."
"...To cut to the chase, it was all my greed. I should've destroyed that demon the moment I found it..."
In the past, Baron Molden had sunk into deep despair.
Being granted a title and lands for his ancestors' merits had been fine at first. But the territory he was given wasn't the fertile domain near the holy city he'd hoped for—it was the barren, remote backwater of Molden.
Still, he'd done his best at the start. He reformed the tax system, hired mercenaries to drive off bandits and monsters, lent land cheaply to the landless. But no matter how many he repelled, the raiders kept coming, and the poor soil yielded crop failures year after year.
"That's when I found it... a grotesque lump of flesh in the castle cellars..."
Like a monster's innards, the demon tempted him with an irresistible offer: to turn Molden into the finest domain around.
True to its nature, the deal had strings attached. But they didn't seem like anything a demon would demand.
"The demon said... to cherish my people like my own children and devote myself fully to the domain."
"……."
That was the deadliest trap, though he didn't know it then. After agonized deliberation, the baron accepted.
The demon kept its word.
Suddenly, bandits and monsters vanished, the soil grew fertile, and settlers flocked to Molden. The positive changes fed into each other, transforming it into an ever more livable place.
The baron upheld his end too.
At first, the domain's folk eyed him warily, and it bruised his pride. But he persisted in approaching them warmly, and gradually, they opened up. The days of feigning benevolence didn't last long. Before he knew it, he truly cherished them like his own children.
But in one corner of his heart, guilt and unease began to grow.
"Molden's revival... wasn't my blood and sweat. It came from shaking hands with a demon... the most dishonorable path..."
As a defense mechanism, he grew obsessed with honorable conduct. Even if his household starved, he had to host guests properly.
But that obsession couldn't smother the rising anxiety. He barely slept, constantly on edge, fearing the demon's whims might crumble it all overnight.
And eventually, his fears came true.
"I don't know if it possessed them from the start or later... But when Viscount Adlen and the soldiers appeared before me... they were all already under the demon's thrall..."
The demon knew slow strangulation hurt more than a quick end. It wove its schemes, mustering the soldiers at the perfect moment to fully besiege Molden.
"I searched for any way to end the battle... But I realized my own power meant nothing... Everything I had was built on the demon's strength..."
For four months, he watched his suffering people like a parent helpless before a dying child.
Finally, he resolved to sever ties with the demon at the cost of his life and save Molden.
Kadim shook his head briefly.
"If the demon's will had been intact, your resolve alone couldn't have killed you. You'd have survived, and Molden would have fallen. That's what the demon craved—your profound pain and despair."
"...I know. I know full well... Even destroying the demon and saving Molden... relied on another's power, not mine... Ha, haha..."
A faint, self-mocking laugh faded. The light in his eyes dimmed. Through bloodshot eyes, he cast a poignant gaze.
"Still... even so... this counts as... placing the period... with my own strength... right?"
It wasn't wrong. Kadim nodded clearly, so the baron could see.
The poignancy faded from his eyes, replaced by relief. A weary smile touched his lips. Squeezing out his last strength, he moved them.
"Tell Delphina... I'm sorry... for failing to protect... the tulips..."
"……."
With that, Baron Molden's breath stopped.
His head lolled toward Molden, eyes unclosed. A lonely dawn breeze swept his brow. Kadim observed a solemn silence. Duncan sighed deeply, offering a sympathetic look.
"Whew, what a pitiful man... But... do you know who this Delphina is, my lord?"
"Probably his wife. No children, it seems."
Kadim closed the baron's eyes with a gentle sweep. He cradled the neck and ankles, lifting the body. Then he glanced sidelong at the merchant.
"You worked hard following my orders all night, merchant. Now, for the last task—fetch the axe I threw."
"Pardon? Oh, y-yes! Right away. But... what then, my lord?"
"Back to Molden."
"……."
"He deserves to be buried in the arms of his most cherished treasure."
Backlit by the approaching dawn, carrying a life that had waned, Kadim set off toward Molden.
Molden's people hung black banners from every roof, without exception.
Even the poorest, with only crumbling shacks and single sets of clothes, were no different. They soaked their sole garments in ash water, hung them up, and went about naked for a time.
The baron's grave was built before the inner keep, where all could visit.
Young men volunteered to carve the stele and dig the plot. Children and maidens gathered armfuls of wildflowers to scatter. Elders pulled out hoarded gold coins from their attics to lay at the tomb. Though all starved fiercely, on the funeral day, not one touched even a drop of water.
Molden's folk felt compelled to pay their respects that way.
The baron was said to have fallen fighting the enemy alone to the end. The people, ignorant of the hidden truth, simply drowned in grief and mourning.
The soldiers cleaning the scene before the castle were different. Hauling over four hundred corpses, they couldn't help but swirl with doubts.
How had a barbarian and the baron alone defeated four hundred? How had the skeletal enemy troops even moved? Why had Viscount Adlen become such a monster? What had they been fighting all this time...?
No answers came. The only one who knew, Kadim, stayed silent. Regrettably, no soldier had the guts to browbeat the reticent barbarian.
Per the deceased's wishes, the baron's widow became Molden's new lord. No one objected. Even in his rule, she'd been a wise aide and frugal lady of the house, highly esteemed.
And her first duty as lord was to see off departing guests.
At Molden's central gate, the baron's widow bowed deeply to the barbarian and merchant.
"We owe you a great debt, mercenary. Though no ties bound you, you aided Molden against the foe. On behalf of my late husband, I thank you profoundly."
"No need. The baron already paid in full."
Kadim lifted the throwing axe at his belt. Even the weapon-ignorant widow recognized its value at a glance.
No regrets. A fine weapon shone brightest at a fine warrior's side. Keeping the axe in the castle would've made it mere decoration. If anything, she thought Molden's savior deserved far more.
"That's not enough. We've prepared some gold and provisions. Meager compared to your deeds, but may they aid your journey..."
But Kadim declined.
"Spare change and scraps aren't needed. Instead, here's some advice."
"Pardon? What..."
"A short way west is a valley—the lair of some bandit gang. Search well, and you'll find plenty of leftover food and supplies. Too much to carry, so I took what I could and left the rest."
"……."
"Distribute it to the starving folk. I slaughtered every last bandit, so no worries."
The widow stared blankly, lips parting.
To Kadim, it was just tossing out useless goods. To her, it was manna in drought.
Unable to repay one grace, she'd received another just as great. All she could do was bow properly and vow future gratitude.
"I'll never forget this kindness. Your friends are now Molden's friends; your foes, our foes. If chance allows, please visit again. Next time, we'll welcome you with utmost hospitality."
Kadim waved it off. The Magic Tower was still far; promising to return was empty. Who knew if paths might cross again distant in the future.
Before leaving, one last message remained. Kadim asked the widow,
"Oh, and you're Delphina, right?"
"Yes. How did you...?"
"The baron asked me to pass this on before he died. That he's sorry for failing to protect the tulips."
"……."
Time seemed to stop.
The widow stood frozen.
Ripples rose over her eyes. A wave churning the sea of memories. His final image, cracking jokes to spare her disappointment.
As lord, she couldn't redden her eyes freely. She squeezed them shut, biting her trembling lips. But she couldn't stop a single tear tracing her cheek.
Kadim turned away. His business here was done. Let the survivors tend their grief; it was time for wanderers to leave the stage.
Yet after passing the gate and walking some distance,
"M-my lord...? L-look over there."
Far off, the baron's widow ran breathlessly toward them.
Kadim halted. She caught up, gasping out her plea without catching her breath.
"M-mercenary, one last thing, may I ask...?"
"……."
"I know that night held strangeness beyond mortal ken. I know you have reasons to bury the truth in shadow. But as his lifelong companion, this one thing I must know."
"……."
"...The blade that pierced my husband—was it truly his own?"
Silent affirmation.
Her mouth went dry. Forcing out the question stuck like a thorn in her throat,
"...Please tell me, mercenary. Did he fall to the demon's thrall and take his own life? He who craved death with honor above all... Did he go so miserably, so pointlessly?"
Less a question than a plea. Desperate for truth, yet dreading it—a contradictory urgency.
Kadim had no desire to lie for comfort. Fortunately, no need.
He simply told her the truth.
"No."
"……."
"With iron will, he slew the demon and died more honorably than any in the world."
Then he turned and walked away.
"……."
Noon sun bathed the plain. No trees on the road, so the barbarian and merchant bore its full blaze on their shoulders. Until they shrank to a distant speck, the widow stood rooted, bowing her head till her neck ached, murmuring thanks.
Over and over.
For letting her remember him not as the Demon Baron, but as Baron Molden.