Chapter 234
Chapter 234
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 234
Chapter Title: Religious Discourse
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No matter how much La Mertion was called the City of Light, no city could be free of back alleys and dark streets. Especially in a hub of relay trade, it was inevitable that illicit deals and smuggling thrived.
From cheap narcotics to slave trafficking. La Mertion's nights were more dazzling than its days.
The backroom dealings under the Empire's watchful eye had already grown to the scale of a ducal trading company.
And the core driving force behind that growth? No matter what anyone said, it was slave trading. Slavery was strictly prohibited under international law, but even the serfs of Dane Kingdom were little different from slaves in all but name. The Empire's highly modernized industrial and manufacturing base required cheap labor.
Thus, the Empire did not reject slavery. That was the crux of what the woman before him had said with a smile.
"So you're saying this state of affairs is justified?"
"Of course not. It might seem horrific to you, my lady. I understand. It's a matter of cultural differences."
The woman smiled softly as she spoke. In the direction she pointed, a burly man with chains around his neck shuffled along, staring at the ground.
Whip scars marred his entire body, and beneath heavy shackles, droplets of blood from torn flesh trailed like sticky threads.
"Those men will probably spend the rest of their lives hauling heavy loads for some trading company. Or maybe they'll end up as ship hands on some fleet, or perhaps drift into a factory somewhere to assemble mana lamps for the duration of their existence."
"What are you even..."
"Or perhaps. They might end up as ingredients at some noble's delightful banquet."
Freya froze stiff at those chilling words. The woman's expression had turned cold and sharp. She growled.
"There are pigs like that. Pigs who crave not just flesh, but lifespan itself. Pigs who would gladly throw down thousands of gold coins if all they needed was a slave's fresh blood for it. My liege doesn't consider such creatures human anymore. And truthfully, they're no longer human."
"High nobles have to appear in public often. Even just for ceremonies, they can't avoid the eyes of others. And if rumors spread of unnaturally long lifespans, the Inquisitors will start investigating immediately."
"Naturally. Why would the human world's janitors sit idly by while such trash festers? But my lady. Some trash looks like a jewelry box until you pry it open. Glittering, valuable, and not something you'd dare touch lightly... a pretty little jewelry box."
The knight flinched at her words. He cautiously studied the woman's face, as if probing her true intentions.
"Surely you're not saying the Elector Count is...?"
"Shh. That's not a word to toss around lightly, is it?"
"...I must report this to His Highness."
"And then what, Sir Knight? You think the rest of the Empire will stand by if an eastern kingdom attacks an Elector Count? Are you planning to drag the entire homeland into war? Think carefully. Dane may not be a minor power, but it can't survive a full-scale war with the Empire."
The knight stared at Ironside with hollow eyes. He fell silent for a moment.
Dane Kingdom was undoubtedly a rising power in recent years. Yet it could not shake the stigma of being a mere "regional" power.
A full-scale war with the Empire? Even if every eastern kingdom united their forces, it wouldn't be easy. On this continent, the only one who could stand against the Empire's full legions was perhaps the Sultan of Kirzath.
But after a brief silence, the knight spoke.
"Then why did you summon us here?"
"What?"
"There must be a reason Sir Cerned called us. And you're not just spilling your nation's secrets because you're eccentric. What do you want from us?"
"Don't misunderstand. My liege wanted to handle this among the Elector Counts. We called you because your Round Table Knight requested it. I don't like involving foreigners in our affairs either."
The woman shrugged. She gazed at the line of departing slaves for a moment before speaking.
"The Round Table Knight asked me to pass this on. He said he needed friends who could witness this injustice and share his outrage. People who value greater justice over pretexts and face. Tell me. Would you wage war to cut away the Empire's rotten flesh?"
"..."
The knight fell silent. Personal morality and national war carried different weights.
The resources needed for war, the bloodshed and national strength consumed by it, the shift in Dane Kingdom's standing after defeat. It could become a vassal state, or the kingdom itself might vanish.
The eastern kingdoms were a pack of beasts. A coalition of starving beasts eager to tear into the throats of their neighbors. The flimsy sheet of paper called the "peace treaty" was all that kept them apart.
After Dane's national power lay in ruins, could that scrap of paper save them? Probably not. There were countless ways to pressure the kingdom without deploying armies.
But... But what would King Vicente and his Round Table Knights think upon hearing this? Of another nation's slavery, the Elector Counts' complicity, and the corruption of certain high nobles.
The church wouldn't intervene until everything was clearly proven. The Holy Pantheon Church proclaimed complete neutrality in political matters, and unproven corruption could be dismissed as mere political intrigue.
"When His Highness first ascended the throne, I was there at that glorious occasion. After he slew the demon-corrupted former king and his knights, and triumphed over the undead assaulting Altbert, he declared it."
There were words he shouted standing atop a giant's corpse before the half-ruined Altbert Square, in the aftermath of what was called the Tragedy of Altbert.
"Advance against injustice in every moment of life, and even when your strength fails and you fall, close your eyes still clutching to greater justice."
The oath King Vicente took at his coronation. The "Oath of the Knight King" carried a weight far beyond a standard knighting ceremony.
[Even if the smallest voice cries for aid in the face of evil, we shall charge at the forefront.]
King Vicente's oath differed from traditional knightly vows focused on personal morality. It spoke of active response. Neighboring kingdoms expressed "grave concerns." A pledge of proactive military aid could be interpreted as aggressive posturing or pretextual invasion.
But no matter what schemers thought. King Vicente's Round Table Knights took the oath at face value. His consistent conduct from prince to king, his shining knighthood, proved its intent.
Thus, what Ironside said now merely reflected outsiders' views of Dane Kingdom—
"National power and interests are secondary before greater justice."
"That's not for the one requesting aid to say, but he's hardly a good king. Isn't a king's duty to prioritize protecting his people's lives?"
"A king's duty, yes. But not a king's morality. A monarch must not merely shepherd his followers. He must present them a vision. They don't walk beside you—they follow because you lead ahead. And you dare lecture us on kingship? You, who choose leaders through politics and scheming?"
"Anyone would think the Empire has a monopoly on politics."
This was why cultural differences were so infuriating. Ironside chuckled grumpily. She looked at the knight with a mocking smile, perhaps tinged with envy.
"Blind fools. The only thing better than fanatics is their somewhat rational grasp of good and evil. Well, our liege likes such fools. So I have no choice."
*Follow me, and I'll show you the Empire's secrets.* Ironside jerked her chin and led them into a dark alleyway.
* * *
Passing through the underground sewers reeking of sticky, clinging foulness—twisting paths likely leading to the city's heart—Ironside spoke quietly as they walked.
"As far as we know, five cities have fallen into this state."
She shook blood from her blade as she walked. Half-rotted corpses occasionally lunged from the muck below. They pressed on amid sporadic skirmishes.
"Five confirmed locations so far. Five key cities tied to the Empire's central trade ports and routes. Who knows how many more are rotting beneath the surface, but my liege judges at least ten or more."
"Is your liege the Emperor?"
"Ha, hardly."
Ironside snorted.
"He's the one who renounced the imperial throne. No reason to chase such a seat."
"Why not request an Inquisition?"
"A city or two? Sure, that could work. Maybe even more. But you can't cut off the head. If an Inquisition is called, the masterminds behind this will abandon that city."
And the forsaken city would burn at the fanatics' hands. Along with its innocent populace. Ironside looked at Abel with gloomy eyes.
"The Inquisition isn't composed of absolute paragons. It's not a tool you can wield freely without cost. It's a devil sword that must drink blood, sustaining itself on flesh and gore. Look at this city's daylight streets. The mother buying an apple for her sick daughter. The young man laboring as a porter to care for his ailing grandmother. They're everywhere. So who is corrupted? Who is wicked, who is good? Who dares judge and condemn?"
"The Inquisitors will throw their lives into purging demons and their followers without seeking reward."
"Ha, of course. Don't try understanding fanatics' mindsets. If their reward lies in the heavens, it means they invest not a shred, not a penny of emotion into earthly matters."
Cities hit by Inquisition inevitably produce casualties. The Heretica have no qualms creating dozens, hundreds of victims from a single suspicion.
If evil is purged in the process, collateral damage is secondary.
To excise rotten sores, they would unflinchingly slice into healthy flesh.
If that happened in a central trade city dense with transients and residents... The Merlinport Walker Incident under Fairn would be a joke by comparison.
Countless would hang from gibbets, most innocent. Administration would paralyze, rivers of good people's blood and tears would flow. Above it all, blood-soaked banners of justice would flutter. Against a backdrop of burning city...
Even if the Elector Count and high nobles were corrupted, calling an Inquisition rashly was impossible. From Ironside's perspective, Inquisition and church power were last resorts, second-worst options. If the best wasn't viable, she had to pursue the next best.
"In any case, my liege is investigating the first five uncovered cities simultaneously. The others involve nobles he can pressure with power. But La Mertion here is an Elector Count's domain. Not easy to touch."
"So you called us? What can we do?"
"Pretext."
-CRUNCH!
Another corpse surfaced from the sewer depths. Ironside severed its lunging throat without changing expression. Thick, decayed blood smeared her blade.
"A pretext to reveal the Empire's rot. Proof that the Holy Pantheon Church need not hold sway over secular kingdoms' affairs. Demonstrations of intent and action for self-cleansing. And Dane Kingdom's military support."
"You think that holds water? The Holy Pantheon Church hasn't meddled in secular politics for centuries. If our kingdom aids the Empire's self-cleansing, what does the Empire gain?"
"Dane's state religion is Shiled, and the Empire believes in Shiled too. Shiled's grand cathedral sits in the imperial capital, and imperial knight orders bear the character of Shiled temple knights. Separation of church and state? You really think that's strictly possible? If this crisis is resolved leaning on religious authority, don't you think it could completely purge the church's influence from imperial politics henceforth?"
Ironside gripped the sewer door's handle as she spoke. She pulled the rusted knob lightly and murmured low.
"God should stay in the heavens—that's enough. Forever, as mere idols. Religion should be a consumer good, never an essential of life. Human faith must be built on personal will, not divine dictate. When absolutes meddle in personal morality, it always breeds tragedy."
The door opened.
Corpses lay before them. The fishy blood-scent that had thickened now crashed over them with tangible density.
This passage from the underground sewer served as a drain for the city's high nobles to dispose of bodies. Those with blood left to drain hung displayed on hooks.
"Ugh...!"
Freya teared up, pinching her nose. To the goddess of spring, flowers, and life, the stench of rot, blood, and death wafting from it was unbearably repulsive.
But Abel, the knight, and Ironside regarded the scene calmly. They were all accustomed to such sights.
"Human evil must be judged by human hands. That's my liege's will—and ours first and foremost. We are Ironside. Iron symbolizes trust and victory, and we are steel forged in the deepest fires. Confess this to your kingdom's king."
"What do you gain? If we purge this city, control naturally falls to our kingdom. What do you get for yielding an Elector Count's domain?"
"Rule, justice, pretext, face, and... power."
If Dane Kingdom publicly condemns the Elector Count and starts a war, the Emperor will surely intervene.
But with imperial forces focused on the western expedition, others stepping up would be the legions of fellow Elector Counts.
Elector Counts don't commit troops and funds to profitless wars. If Dane's pretext is solid, they'd be even less likely to attack rashly.
And any Elector Count willingly bearing those penalties to back the Emperor...
"An unexpected variable makes friend-or-foe identification that much easier."
Dane's intervention secures it a vast trade route to the continent's heart.
The Crown Prince can identify Elector Counts under the Emperor's influence and herd them into one place.
Erb gains time. Time before Emperor-backed Elector Counts meddle in the archduchy.
And the Empire. By letting secular kingdoms handle the purge of corruption, it diminishes church authority.
A plan where all reap their gains.
"Operation name: Wildfire. Prepared by your Round Table Knight, milord."