Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Followers of the Forgotten God (5)
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Swift shadows darted across the back alleys of Galentana. Anyone with exceptional dynamic vision could have spotted that they were abducting someone.
In a deserted corner utterly devoid of presence, they set down their baggage. The bags let out a heavy vibration, while the hostages bound in ropes writhed like cocoons on the verge of hatching.
"Mmph, mmph, mmph!"
"Mmph, mmph!"
They were the merchant and the guard captain—comrades of the Demon Slayer, snatched while exiting the alley.
Now that they'd stopped, the kidnappers' appearances came into full view. Men clad head to toe in black garb, complete with black masks.
They exchanged glances and shrugged.
"Disappointing. I figured the Demon Slayer's crew—the ones meant to bring calamity—would put up some fight, but to think they'd be captured this easily."
"Actually, it's good for them. If they'd been too tough to take alive, we'd have killed them, but they're so weak they get to keep breathing. Well, we'll use them as bait to lure in the Demon Slayer and kill them anyway..."
"More importantly, how about we check out this bag? The Demon Slayer might have other holy relics or valuables on him."
The kidnappers nodded and swiftly rummaged through the merchant's bag.
Inside was nothing but junk. An iron staff wrapped in cloth scraps, bottles and canteens filled with foul-smelling blood, wool blankets, flint, dried rations... Not a glimpse of any holy relic bearing the mark of the Forgotten God or any valuable artifact.
But the kidnappers weren't disappointed. The bag contained an enormous sum of money—more than enough to make up for it.
"Ha... Must be the loot the Demon Slayer plundered from honest folk. Lucky we found it before he blew it all in the underworld. How much do you reckon it all totals?"
"Hard to say, but no less than 500,000 luden..."
"Best to offer it all to the bishop as a donation. If we're gathering more relics and expanding the faith, he'll need a solid foundation of funds."
The other two fixed the speaker with a stare that screamed, 'You idiot, no tact?' The man faltered for a moment before backpedaling.
"But too much money is a trial for any man. Especially dirty gains from that source of calamity, the Demon Slayer. To keep the bishop from temptation's grasp, it wouldn't hurt for us to lighten the load a little."
Only then did the other two nod in satisfaction. The three kidnappers evenly split the haul—100,000 luden apiece. They felt their sense of duty, brotherhood, and piety swell even stronger.
"Mmph, mmph!! Mmmph!!! Mmmph!!!"
Witnessing this, the merchant Duncan rolled his eyes back and thrashed like a madman. His struggles were so fierce they loosened the ropes binding him ever so slightly.
One kidnapper approached to retighten the slack. In the process, he spotted something at the merchant's waist.
"Hm, what's this?"
Whoosh—!
"...!"
The instant it was drawn from its sheath, a red dagger erupted in hellfire.
Clearly no ordinary blade. Eyes behind the masks flashed with greed. The other two swarmed it like flies.
"Hold on, hand it over, brother. We need to inspect that weapon closely."
"No, give it to me first. I managed the armory back in the day—I've got the best eye for blades."
"H-Hey, everyone, back off!"
Whoosh—!
"...Phew, nearly got us all roasted. You lot stay back. I'll shoulder the duty of handling this dangerous thing."
"Mmph!! Mmmph!!!"
No matter how the tightly bound merchant flopped like a live fish, the kidnappers paid him no mind. Their eyes were locked solely on the extraordinary relic. A war of nerves ensued around the dagger's flames.
"You? You handle it? Think you can manage that? What's your claim?"
"I found it first, didn't I? So the right to manage it is mine, naturally."
"No, the right's mine."
"Cut the nonsense and hand it over. That's for the bishop to decide—not your call."
"Watch your mouth, brother! You were gonna pocket it the second you got your hands on it!"
"How dare you! I was just gonna take a quick look and hand it back! You think everyone's like you?"
"Anyway, it's mine! Back off unless you want trouble! I'll report to the bishop myself!"
"No, it's mine. Just borrowed it from that merchant for a bit."
"Didn't you nearly lose a relic once before? Think the bishop'll let you hold another?"
"Why drag up ancient history! That wasn't my fault—info leaked to another sect..."
"So, the bishop's your boss."
The air turned icy in an instant, like winter's sudden arrival.
The three kidnappers froze solid.
An unfamiliar hulking shadow loomed between them.
"..."
Heart-stopping silence. Sweat beaded on foreheads beneath the masks. One kidnapper shook off the daze and cried out.
"Everyone, ru—"
Crack—thud!
Before he finished, a massive fist pulverized his skull. Mask and bone crumpled together as his face slammed into the pavement. Brain fluid mixed with blood oozed from his crushed nose and sockets, soaking the stone.
"Ugh..."
Crack—thud!
The dagger-holder suffered the same: caved-in cranium, lights out. The last, scrambling to flee, was snatched by the nape, hoisted airborne, then smashed down—spine shattering on impact.
"Gah!"
Kadim stomped the man's gut. With a subtle flex of his foot, he glared down at the black mask from the shadows.
"At least you're not fake humans this time. Blood's red."
"Gurk, uh, uh..."
"Choices for you. Puke up your mangled guts and die... or shit 'em all out your ass and die..."
"Gurk, gurk!!"
"...Or spill every scrap you know and go peacefully. Pick one."
"Uk, uhh..."
Chill sweat cooled his blood to ice; shivers rattled his jaw. No long deliberation.
The kidnapper chose to confess.
*
A mere grunt, so disappointingly little intel. Still, it sketched their identity and aims.
True to his word, Kadim granted a merciful end.
Chop—thud!
"Uk!"
Doubt the axe-split victim agreed, but versus the alternatives, it was gentle.
All kidnappers dispatched, Kadim turned to the hostages. He hefted his gleaming axe and approached Duncan and Yulia.
Slice—
"U, uwaaah!!"
Duncan, seeing flesh lightly nicked, feared Kadim's berserk fits had returned.
Thankfully not. Red blood confirmed, Duncan spared; black, and Yulia's head cleaved.
Crack—thud!
"Grr, grrr..."
Black foam bubbled as the fake Yulia melted away. Duncan stammered in a daze.
"N-No, since when...? Exactly when...?"
Kadim wiped the blade clean and set his face hard. Simple deduction: only the guard captain could've lured them to the trapped inn.
Timing of the swap was key mystery, but retracing steps pointed to one moment—pre-gate departure, when the captain slipped into an alley for a private word with his deputy. Likely kidnapped and replaced then.
Demons would've been preferable; magic could've sniffed real from fake. No such luck—headaches of blood tests mandatory. Planned a casual reward grab; how'd this tangle ensue...?
Duncan, briefed fully, trembled with anxiety.
"Th-Then what now, sir? Rescue the real guard captain at once? Without him, claiming subjugation pay'll be tough for us alone..."
"..."
Kadim wouldn't ignore useful comrades' fates. Hadn't he combed every alley to save Duncan?
But hostages-first vibes weakened him against foes. Plus, needed someone with core intel on this mess.
"No. Galentana University first."
"...Pardon?"
"Find the real archaeologist there. Coin's owner and fake prototype—she knows something."
About the Forgotten God's followers running rampant in Galentana, fake humans, threats to his life and coin.
Duncan bit his lip, nodded. They gathered their scattered gear and headed out.
*
Galentana University's security matched the city's elite.
Crimson spires thrust skyward like titanic horns, palace-like edifices in solemn rows, terraced plazas ringed by verdant lawns and a petite lake. Even skeptical rustics would've gawked at the grandeur.
Yet campus foot traffic was sparse. Demon rampage's shadow lingered. Scholars, students, staff thinned out—eerie voids everywhere.
Fortune for Kadim and Duncan: slack guards let them stroll in unchecked. Misfortune too: scant folk to quiz on Ilenia.
Even halting stragglers yielded zilch.
"Hey, got a question."
"...Uh, s-s-sorry!"
"Excuse me, sir? Mind if I ask—"
"...B-Busy right now!"
"..."
Predictable. In this bastion of wisdom, a brutish barbarian and ragged peddler screamed outsider. The few passersby dodged them like plague.
But answers came soon. Kadim switched tactics: snared a pedestrian, hoisted by nape.
"Il-Ilenia the scholar? Th-There! Third floor, Bay Laurel Hall! Saw her enter moments ago—should be there!"
"Thanks. Now hit the books hard."
To the student, it rang like 'Slack off and I'll rip you apart.' Nodding till his neck snapped, he bolted like a scorched-tail rat upon release. Duncan eyed his retreat with pity—like glimpsing his younger self.
Kadim and Duncan entered the hall. First-floor students dropped a weird nugget.
"Ilenia? Came morning, holed up in her third-floor office... Huh? Just re-entered...? When'd she leave?"
"Hm? Just now? Saw her arrive fifteen minutes back."
"Half hour ago, entering her office..."
"..."
"Uh, may I ask why you're seeking Ilenia—"
Kadim bolted upstairs sans reply. Duncan trailed, bewildered. Kadim halted him with a raised hand.
"Hide your presence downstairs, Duncan. Fakes might strike again."
"...Yes, sir."
Third-floor end: plaque reading 'Archaeology Scholar, Ilenia Silberto.' At the door, Kadim extended his senses sharp.
No hall traffic. Presence inside—real or fake, unclear. No call for polite knocks regardless.
Axe gripped tight, he shouldered the door wide.
Bang!
"...I've been waiting, mercenary."
A woman greeted calmly, unperturbed.
Ilenia perched cross-legged on her desk. Black pitch bubbled at her feet; floor strewn with shredded books and antiques—like fresh scrap with a fake human.
Or staged, perhaps. Kadim shoved his axe blade forward, demanded.
"That ruin we hit before—what enemies showed?"
Ilenia quirked a wry smile.
"Earth-forged Atalayan warriors. I downed four; you the rest. Round chamber, thirty-meter span, ceiling-ringed torches. Prior: passage etched with monster, human, demon silhouettes and dense ancient script. Followed the writ—tore the self-beating drum. Earth warriors crumbled powerless."
"..."
"And as you see, my blood's red. Proof I'm no double, mercenary?"
She raked her skin with a nail, displayed trickling crimson drops. Kadim lowered his axe slow.
Real one found at last. Time to demand what madness gripped this mess.