The Horrible Truth
"What do you mean by that? People? These things?"
"I don't want to believe it either, but it's true."
Heinz spoke with a calm face toward Bernus, who was still struggling to accept it. Of course he couldn't believe it. How many people in the world could immediately accept that those indescribable monsters had once been human beings just like themselves?
"You have proof, I assume?"
"Of course."
Heinz answered Bernus's question and gestured for them to come closer. At once Bernus, Milia, and Schwarz stepped toward him.
"Ugh…"
"That's awful…"
The foul stench rising from the corpses made Milia wrinkle her nose. The smell was so overpowering that even Schwarz, whose sense of smell was far sharper than an ordinary person's, felt his head spin.
"What about them, then?"
"Look here first."
Unlike the two of them, Bernus regarded the bodies as if nothing were amiss. Heinz pointed to the opened abdomen of one corpse.
The arrangement of the organs was almost identical to a human's. That he could look upon such a ghastly sight without flinching was surely because he had seen far worse on countless battlefields.
"Do you see the stomach here?"
"I see it."
Heinz indicated an organ that looked exactly like a stomach, and Bernus nodded.
"And the mark above it?"
"I see that too."
A scar roughly the length of a finger joint ran across the organ.
"That's the trace of a piercing wound that was later healed with recovery magic."
"…"
Bernus was struck speechless. The idea of a mindless monster using magic made no sense. Magical residue left on a monster's body, combined with internal organs that mirrored those of a human—there was no longer any room for argument.
"Can you believe me now?"
"It seems you were right after all."
Bernus nodded in reply to Heinz's words.
"Karl."
"Yes, my lord Count."
At the same moment Bernus called out to Viscount Nemesis, who had been waiting at the foot of the stairs.
"Issue martial law across the entire territory at once."
"What level of martial law shall I declare, my lord?"
"…"
At the question Bernus's expression turned bitter. Many people in the territory still had not forgotten the past—and neither had he. Even now, when he closed his eyes, those horrific memories rose up as vivid as ever. The knowledge that he would have to shatter with his own hands the twenty years of peace they had enjoyed weighed heavily on his heart. Yet there was no other choice. Leaving this incident unchecked would only invite a far greater catastrophe; that much was certain.
After staring silently into the distance for a moment, Bernus let out a short sigh and spoke.
"Level three. Full wartime footing."
"Understood."
Viscount Nemesis bowed to the grim-faced Bernus and hurried out of the tower.
"…"
"…"
Milia and Schwarz watched Bernus in silence. His shoulders looked far heavier than usual. Gazing at the figure that would one day be her own, Milia wore a hardened expression.
"Are you all right, my lady?"
Seeing her like that, Schwarz spoke in a worried voice. Everything that had come to light was more than enough to leave Milia reeling. Yet her sense of duty—as a member of the Valentine family and as the one who would someday rule this land—forced her to face the situation squarely. Schwarz found her resolve admirable, but at the same time he feared that very sense of responsibility might crush her.
"Yes. Thank you for asking."
Milia nodded at Schwarz's question. The way he asked, as if he already understood exactly how she felt, filled her with quiet gratitude.
"Have you discovered anything else?"
"Not yet. But I have a feeling I'll find more soon enough."
In answer to Bernus's next question, Heinz turned his gaze toward the heart. Given the gravity of the situation, his face had grown thoroughly serious.
"Very well. I'll assign you an aide. Contact me the moment you learn anything further."
"If I uncover anything more, I'll be sure to inform you."
Heinz offered Bernus a faint smile and was about to resume his examination when—
[Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!]
A sudden, raucous clanging filled their ears.
"What in the…?"
Heinz tilted his head, still not grasping the situation. Bernus, however, widened his eyes in alarm at the abrupt peal of the bells.
And in the next instant—
"E-enemy attack, my lord Count!! The enemy has appeared!"
A soldier came racing up the stairs, gasping for breath as he shouted toward Bernus.
A short while earlier, at the gates of Kelebor Castle.
"Captain Fred, what the hell is going on? Level-three martial law means wartime, doesn't it? Has a war broken out or something?"
"Looks that way. His Lordship isn't the sort to declare martial law on a whim."
Frederick, the head jailer of the underground prison, nodded toward his squad member Rival, whose voice trembled with tension.
"I've served more than five years and this is the first martial law I've ever seen. What about you, Captain?"
"Me? I've had more than my fill of it."
Frederick answered Rival's question with a weary look. He had been stationed here for over twenty years. Naturally he had fought in the Crusade of the End, and he was one of the few soldiers of the count's territory who had survived it.
"Come to think of it, you said you fought in that war, right? What was it like?"
"Don't ask. I still wake up with a start in the middle of the night."
At Rival's question Frederick felt his hands begin to tremble and let out a short groan. Fifteen years had passed since the war ended, yet the memories still tormented him. Family, friends, comrades—no one had been spared. The white snowfields of December had been dyed entirely red by the ferocity of the fighting.
"I can't help it either…"
The wound carved into his heart was one that time itself could not heal.
"Haaah… Captain, tell us about it sometime."
"Focus, you idiot. You think this is a picnic?"
Frederick snapped at Rival, who spoke through a long, lazy yawn. Rival turned his head with a look of open dissatisfaction. Watching him, Frederick gave a light shake of his head.
Youngsters these days… not a scrap of tension in them…
He was clicking his tongue at the thought when—
"Hm?"
"Captain? What's wrong?"
Frederick narrowed his eyes, having spotted something moving in the darkness.
"Someone's coming this way."
"You've got sharp night eyes. You can actually see that?"
Rival spoke as if he couldn't believe it and turned his gaze toward the thick darkness.
"What? You're right…"
A moment later Rival's voice went slack as a vague shape began to take form. What he saw was a figure whose face was hidden behind a black mask, the entire body wrapped in a black robe.
"Halt! The count's territory is under martial law. Identify yourself!"
Rival advanced on the man, leveling his spear as he shouted. Yet the man continued to approach the castle entrance as if he had not heard a word.
"Halt! Come any closer and I'll arrest you!"
"…"
"I said halt, damn it! This guy's for real—!"
Irritated, Rival clicked his tongue and kept his spear trained on the man as he closed the distance. In that instant Frederick felt a chill race down his spine—the same sensation he had felt countless times as a raw recruit during the Crusade of the End. The very instinct that had kept him alive long enough to stand here today.
The moment he saw the man's hand drift toward his waist in the darkness, Frederick shouted at Rival.
"Rival! Fall back!!"
"Huh? What are you talking abou—"
Rival turned with a puzzled look, about to answer Frederick's cry. But the reply never finished.
"Wh…?"
"Ri-Rival!!"
Something flashed, and Rival's head separated from his body and went flying through the air. With a dry thud the head struck the ground, rolled a short distance, and came to a limp stop. The headless body staggered, then collapsed, twitching. A pool of blood began to spread across the earth.
"Y-you crazy bastard…!! Rival!!"
"With the blood of heretics shall this land be purified…"
While Frederick spat curses at the sight, the unidentified man—who had somehow already drawn his sword—flicked the blood from the blade and spoke. At the same time Frederick spun and sprinted for the guard post behind him.
Dangerous. That thing is dangerous.
The instinct that had kept him alive when human lives had been snuffed out like weeds during the Crusade of the End was screaming at him now.
Bursting into the post, Frederick seized the hammer and began hammering the alarm bell with frantic force. The peals rang out across the previously silent count's territory. Inside the castle walls, people who had heard the bells began to stir, and lights flared to life in every direction.
I'm safe now, Frederick thought as he turned his head. What met his eyes were dozens—no, perhaps hundreds—of violet eyes gleaming in the darkness.