Chapter 19: Misunderstanding and Truth (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 19: Misunderstanding and Truth (1)
Clunk.
The carriage swayed as it rolled along.
Another carriage ride. The only difference this time was that I’d skipped the anti-sway enchantment to save money.
The second difference, I suppose, was that Mirabelle, who had been sitting across from me staring holes into the floor, was now sitting on my lap.
No matter how many times I told her to sit comfortably, she absolutely insisted on this position. Was this really more comfortable for her? Not that I minded, since it put me in a position to hug her.
I wrapped my arm around Mirabelle’s slender waist, holding her like a teddy bear. I had to take this chance to drink my fill of Mirabelle's essence.
Meanwhile, Mirabelle was making the most of her time, learning magic with the Soul Grimoire open.
Just how did she learn magic? I grew curious.
“Do you understand it just by looking?”
“Um, when I look at it, the knowledge just flows into my head, and I understand it naturally. It’s like looking at an apple and thinking, ‘That’s an apple.’ When I see a spell, I just think, ‘Oh, so that’s this kind of magic.’”
“And you can learn magic just like that?”
“When you see an apple, you can draw a picture of it, right? It’s the same thing. I draw the magical knowledge in my mind, and then the magic comes out.”
Even though I was a complete novice when it came to magic, I knew this wasn't normal.
Not all drawings of an apple are the same.
If I drew one, it would just be a red circle with a stem. But someone else might add depth and shading.
It takes effort to get to that point. But Mirabelle was skipping the process entirely, drawing an apple that looked exactly like a photograph.
Does that even make sense?
I wondered, but in a way, it was true to the source. In games, you learn a skill with a single click of a skill book. The only difference here was that it required a minimal amount of time.
“But Master, what does this have to do with getting revenge on that person?”
“It interferes with the soul. In other words, it means you can inflict infinite suffering upon them, even after they’re dead.”
“Aha. As expected of you, Master.”
Convinced by the simple and clear explanation, Mirabelle nodded. Then she turned her eyes back to the book and began learning magic with even more passion than before.
She was really serious about tormenting her dad.
Well, it's good to be passionate about something, I guess.
“We're here, folks~”
The carriage stopped, and the driver announced our arrival. I stepped out of the carriage, still holding Mirabelle.
“Well, here we are. Our destination, Fracture.”
With an exaggerated voice and gestures, I presented the city's scenery to Mirabelle.
In that moment, Mirabelle’s mouth fell slightly open, and her eyes darted about in confusion. Her grip on the Heavenly Covenant tightened.
It was a look far from admiration, closer to bewilderment.
Her lips parted and closed as she stammered out the words.
“Master, th-this place is….”
“I've acquired information that your father is here, Miss Mirabelle. He should be somewhere in this city. But... why the long face?”
I said, feigning ignorance in a sly tone. Meanwhile, the corners of my mouth twitched, unable to contain themselves at her long-awaited reaction.
Right. She's shocked. Of course she'd be shocked.
This was the place. The place where Mirabelle was abandoned by her father.
*
I entered Fracture with Mirabelle.
Mirabelle, who had been walking while holding my hand, was now clinging to me like glue. She showed signs of anxiety, her head whipping around at the slightest sound.
The trauma from that day was clearly kicking in. It was so severe that I bought a brown robe from a clothing store and had her wear it.
As if that wasn't enough, Mirabelle pleaded for me to hold her, so I had no choice but to pick her up. Mirabelle wrapped her arms and legs tightly around my neck and waist.
On our way through the square, a place bustling with people, two rotten skulls were on display. They must have belonged to traitors.
We passed the skulls and made our way to the slave market.
Slaves screaming from behind iron bars.
Slaves in shackles and cuffs, marching in a line.
Slaves being beaten for resisting.
Naked slaves being doused with water.
The scene was a carbon copy of any imagined slave market, a deeply unpleasant sight from a modern perspective. But for me, synchronized as I was with a slave trader, it just felt like coming home.
As I was looking around, a woman approached me.
“What brings you to the slave market?”
“I'm here on a little business.”
Her eyes met mine.
It was my first time seeing this woman, and yet it wasn't. A familiar face.
What I mean is, this woman was the slave trader NPC from Fracture who reveals the detailed backstory in Mirabelle's liberation quest.
Her name was Camilla, right?
“Ah, what's this? A colleague, I see~”
Camilla, on the other hand, shouldn't have had any information about me, yet she guessed my profession in an instant.
It must be because slave traders are connected by some invisible bond. A single glance is all it takes. ‘Ah, this bastard. The greed in his eyes... he must be a slave trader.’
“So, what brings you here? Selling? Or buying?”
As she spoke, her greedy eyes fell on Mirabelle, who was clinging to me like a koala... For a moment, I was about to say something, but I held my tongue.
“Haha, she's like a comfort doll, so she's not for sale. I'm here to look into something. Ah, forgive my manners. This is who I am.”
I presented Camilla with my identification from the Slave Traders’ Association. Her pupils dilated the moment she saw it.
“So you're the rumored Slave Reaper! I've heard so much about you. I'm a huge fan.”
“Haha, thank you.”
Just as I thought, I'm quite popular in places like this.
“I especially love that story. The one where you built a tower out of a hundred beastkin and set it on fire, creating a pillar of flame. They say the fire reached all the way to the moon, right?”
What are you talking about? What kind of psycho would do something so atrocious?
“And what was the other one? Oh, right. I heard you recently made off with Count Bryan's daughter?”
“Huh?”
“They say you pretended to return her but swiped their family heirloom instead. Wow, you're really something else. It's not easy to pull one over on a noble.”
No, I never did that. I clearly saw her have a touching reunion hug with her parents before I left.
“I heard the Bryan family is in an uproar, trying to catch the Reaper because of it. Be careful. The count even put a bounty on your head. If you were anyone else, I'd have called the knights already, but since you're a colleague, I won't report you. Slave traders have to stick together.”
Camilla rattled on with stories the person in question had never even heard. I wanted to clear up the misunderstanding right then and there, but I had a more pressing matter to attend to.
“Thank you for the information. But we've gotten sidetracked. I came here because there's something I'm curious about.”
I handed Camilla a silver coin. In this line of work, it's common sense to pay a fee if you want information.
“What is it? I'll tell you what I know.”
“A few months ago, there was a major incident in Fracture, wasn't there?”
“Incidents happen every day, everywhere. Which one are you talking about?”
“Hmm, for example, a man selling his own daughter, a witch, into slavery?”
The moment those words left my mouth, the sly, smiling eyes characteristic of a slave trader vanished from Camilla's face.
She stared at me with snake-like eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. Her voice dropped low.
“You... how did you know that? That's information only a select few in Fracture know.”
I didn't answer. I just gave her a meaningful smile.
Understanding my meaning, Camilla returned the silver coin I had given her. Only then did I give her the answer she wanted.
“It's not a matter of finding out or not. Traveling with a witch could get your head chopped off. As a slave trader, it's information I can't afford not to know.”
“...You've got a point. Hah, I got flustered and almost lost money.”
Camilla clicked her tongue as if she'd been had.
It was my money to begin with, you bitch.
“But why ask about that? It's not exactly a topic I like to bring up.”
“Sounds like something happened?”
“Don't even get me started. Someone reported seeing a witch being sold to a slave trader, so the knights stormed in and took away all the female slaves. You know how it is, right? Women, especially the young ones, sell for a higher price.”
“Of course I do.”
“But they threatened to execute us for harboring a witch if we refused. We couldn't stop them with our lives on the line. And you know how roughly they handled them? By the time we got them back, not a single one was in a normal state. Do you have any idea how much we lost then?”
Camilla scowled and shuddered, as if reliving a terrible nightmare.
“So what happened? Did they find her?”
“They found her, all right. She was among the slaves. They even held a public execution in the square. You probably saw it on your way here.”
With that, Camilla said no more.
This time, I tossed her a gold coin, which Camilla deftly snatched from the air.
“Ooh, a gold coin. But what's this for?”
“For what you're not telling me.”
“What I'm not telling you? This is all there is.”
Without a word, I just met her gaze with a slight, knowing smile. Camilla tried to return it, but her own smile didn't last long.
“Wow... so you're not called the Slave Reaper for nothing, huh? I'm seriously impressed. How in the world do you know all this?”
Muttering this, Camilla glanced around before leaning in to whisper secretly in my ear.
“This is top-secret information... but the truth is, they never found her. One of the girls taken by the knights never came back.”
“And that girl was the witch, wasn't she?”
Camilla shook her head vehemently.
“She was the daughter of adventurers who died during an expedition. She became a slave after getting caught stealing bread. There's no way she was a witch.”
“A scapegoat.”
“Exactly. If people found out they'd let the witch escape, they'd panic, and the Knight Order's reputation would plummet.”
In other words, they put on a show with a slave whose death wouldn't cause any problems.
“Then what about the real witch?”
“I don't know that much. It's not like there are only one or two slave traders in the world. She could be hiding somewhere in the city, or she could have left. Anyway, that's the end of the story. Honestly, I've told you more than your money's worth.”
As Camilla turned to leave, indicating she was done talking, I tossed another gold coin. It should have been in her blind spot, but Camilla snatched the coin like a money-crazed ghost.
“Just one more question.”
“You're a big spender. What is it?”
“Do you happen to know where the witch's father is?”
At that question, Camilla let out a hollow laugh. It looked like a sneer.
“You're surprisingly naive, aren't you? Wasting good money on such an obvious question.”
Camilla turned her head and looked back the way we came.
“The fate of one who harbors a witch is always the same.”
*
The final destination of Mirabelle's commonly known liberation quest.
We had already passed it. Even though I knew everything, I had deliberately stopped by the slave market to draw out the story.
I could hear the narration for the price of a gold coin. How could I resist?
Only the main characters had voice acting. A full dub would have been too expensive, I suppose.
This was a chance to hear what was originally just a block of text, spoken in the character's own voice, just by handing over a few coins. I absolutely couldn't pass it up.
Well, I did have my own selfish reasons, but I also wanted Mirabelle, who was hiding but still listening, to be able to follow the story.
It's time for Mirabelle to know what she needs to know.
The sun had set, and in the pre-dawn hours, even the magic stone lamps were out.
I stood in the central square with Mirabelle, who had climbed down from my arms. Given the hour, the once-bustling square was now dead silent.
In the middle of the square, two skulls were displayed on a tall post.
The smaller one belonged to the slave girl who, as the slave trader had said, had been forced to play the part of the witch and died for it.
Next to that skull.
Black eye sockets filled with an endless darkness. A jaw clamped shut, as if holding an unspeakable secret.
On the small plaque attached beneath the skull, it was written:
-The Great Traitor Who Hid a Witch-