Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Act 1 of the Performance, The Abandoned Mine Haunted by Evil Spirits (5)
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*
Kailen's mercenaries, without even a moment to tend to their wounds from the fierce clash with the troll, were struck by a raid from the villagers. By the time Kailen went looking for them, it was already too late—they had been dragged out before the villagers in perfect harmony.
The fire had consumed the barn and five more thatched huts before dying down. Kailen knelt amid the ashes of the collapsed inferno, gazing at the villagers.
The people glared at them, each clutching plows, pitchforks, hand axes, and the like. From among them stepped a burly man, holding a butcher's cleaver dripping with blood.
"On the day guests arrive in the village, a fire breaks out..."
"We can explain! We were all quietly staying in the lodgings you provided!"
"So you're saying we started the fire ourselves?"
"E-even if not... Yes! An earthquake! It could have been an earthquake that started the fire, right? There was a lamp in the room I was staying in! If the lamp fell to the floor, wouldn't it catch fire just like that!"
"No, no no, that's not it."
The man slowly raised the cleaver, scratching his forehead with the flat of the blade.
"There was nothing in there that could start a fire. Our villagers' homes don't have fancy things like lamps. And the fire started in the barn."
"Please! W-we're with the Chepia Merchant Company! If we disappear around here, a search will definitely begin!"
"Don't worry about that. Your broken wagon will serve as proof."
The man sneered. Because they couldn't even clean up the wagon smashed by the troll, it lay roughly in the vicinity.
Moreover, the wagon bore clear marks of a monster. Claw and arm marks from the troll. Kailen's face grew paler by the moment. The man smacked his lips, eyeing Kailen's plump belly and arms untouched by labor.
"You lot can fill our bellies."
"Y-yes! Yes! Food! If you let us go, we'll definitely provide food..."
"No, 'you lot' will fill our bellies."
At the man's words, Kailen's mouth snapped shut. He stared at the blood-dripping cleaver. When they had been dragged here, his servants were nowhere to be seen.
"Where are my attendants...?"
"Ah, some are preparing to become one with us, and others are headed to a better place."
The man chuckled and subtly stepped back. The villagers parted, revealing the square behind them. In the center stood a pole.
"What the hell is that!!!"
His servants hung from the pole. Beaten during the commotion, their jaws hung loose. They writhed, emitting twisted groans as blood poured from the pole.
Strange butterfly-shaped brands marred their foreheads, crudely etched as if with a sharp awl—crooked and sloppy. Blood from the brands covered their faces. Each labored breath bubbled with blood.
"What have you done... Holy Pantheon, grant your blessing... What have you done..."
"We've assigned the meat better roles. Now you'll get the same. Haha. Don't feel wronged. You're becoming something better!"
The man burst into mad laughter, eyes gleaming with frenzy. He slowly raised the cleaver. Kailen's face drained white.
*
Kirhas crouched on the rooftop, ears perked rigidly as she growled. Her lithe body tensed like a spring, ready to leap out at any moment.
"Just a little longer."
"Benefactor..."
Kirhas ground her teeth at Angela's words, glaring at Fernandez. Fernandez frowned and asked Angela,
"How long do we have to wait?"
"Until more solid evidence gathers. This office didn't infiltrate to enforce justice. We've waited this long to secure proof of the Necropolis's existence."
With that, she began forming hand seals. Precise, simple motions. Purely for destruction. But her seals halted abruptly.
-Clack.
Fernandez's hand appeared in an instant, breaking her flow and intertwining her fingers. She winced at his iron grip—the first expression he'd shown her since they met.
"What are you doing?"
"No magic. Angela, magic leaves traces."
"...? Why can't it leave traces? I already used it once."
"That's why no more. We can still hide."
"So, what's the reason?"
"Our role isn't mages. Just as I'm helping you, you help me."
"...Role?"
"A most devout knight. Albert of Cerned. Ignorant of magic."
Fernandez's blue eyes scanned the square below. Most villagers were mere worthless heretics, but that man was different. He knew proper ritual methods. Likely the parish priest representing this village.
From the moment the man displayed the servants in the square, Fernandez grasped his intent. The village's food situation had already deteriorated beyond sustainability. In that crisis, the man had decided swiftly.
A demon summoning. Calling a demon for power to turn things around. Probably to raid nearby villages. Leading mere serfs would be tough, but with demonic power, it was feasible.
As the servants hung from the pole and their dripping blood traced a grotesque magic circle on the ground, Kirhas's rage swelled beyond control.
Kirhas's eyes blazed like fire. Fernandez sighed under Angela's gaze, stroking the back of Kirhas's neck.
"Kirhas. Remember your oath?"
In Gloridaine's slave market, underground. The oath under the dawn sky.
Fernandez looked down at Kirhas.
She met his eyes, slowly drooping her ears.
"...I pledge loyalty solely to my benefactor."
Not to gods, church, or grand causes. Solely to you. Hearing that, Fernandez smiled, casting a shadow over her head. Angela watched with a subtle expression, her face growing more varied.
"Truly words befitting a devout knight. Sir Albert?"
"Yeah."
Far below, the man finally raised the cleaver. Despair twisted across Kailen's kneeling face. That was enough.
"Guess we can't wait any longer. Angela. Find evidence on the corpses."
"Wait. Just a bit more..."
Kirhas looked at Fernandez and finally smiled in relief. Good girl. Fernandez nodded, petting her.
*
Like a flash piercing a curtain. Like an arrow loosed from a bow. Kirhas and Fernandez kicked off the roof. No one had spotted them yet.
"Benefactor!"
"To the square!"
"Yes!!"
Kirhas gripped her longsword tight, bounding across roofs. Straight toward the square, her body sprang elastically. Roof to roof. Eave to eave. She dashed with beastly agility!
-Shrieeek!!
Beside her flew something faster—Fernandez's thrown dagger, overtaking her speed—
-Krunch!
"Gyaaaah!!!"
It embedded in the wrist of the cleaver-wielding man!
"Who, who are you!!"
"K-knight!!"
"A knight?!"
The man grabbed the dropped cleaver and turned. His eyes widened. Blue eyes glared at him.
As if a demon had just burst through hell's gates, the man's spirit was utterly subdued by Fernandez's gaze in an instant.
Fernandez advanced through the recoiling crowd, longsword dangling at his side. No one could stop him.
His gaze reached the ruined barn. At its corner, a charred black hand protruded from crumbled pillars.
Fernandez briefly crossed himself. Not from piety. Prayer was mere ritual. Yet he felt divine blood pulsing in sync with it.
A saint's prayer could indeed work miracles. In this era with the Holy Pantheon sealed, that's what a saint meant. Surely, the victims trapped and dead in those ruins had gone to the Pantheon's halls.
Fernandez knew it was mere self-consolation. But so what? Even if vile hypocrisy for self-satisfaction.
"Wh-what's a knight?! He's alone!!"
Fernandez gripped his sword hilt, eyeing the charging villagers. Amusing.
In his past life, he'd spat similar words. At the hero charging his cult.
What was his name? Diran?
Now I hear such lines myself. In this ironic twist, he couldn't stop laughing.
-Slash.
The blade flicked up, slicing the villager's throat. Hot blood sprayed his face. Fernandez fluidly ducked. A club whistled past his head, striking air.
-Slash!
From his low stance, Fernandez swept his sword, bisecting the villager before him horizontally. The finely honed full saint-metal longsword gleamed mid-air, passing through the villager's gaunt legs.
Time for a lesson. Fernandez's eyes glinted through his hair. Say that, and you always end up slaughtered by the lone arrival.
*
The man clutched his bleeding wrist, stumbling back. He'd heard kingdom knights' heroic tales until his ears blistered, but seeing it firsthand was another level.
One at a time. The knight slaughtered with astonishing efficiency. Human flesh pierced by metal dies regardless, yet he could scarcely believe that simple fact now.
Villagers dwindled rapidly. Encirclement? Meaningless against that strength shattering four-directional assaults in one go. No longsword, however sharp, could do that.
Human bodies are fat and bone. The man, who had dismantled countless, knew it best. Even perfectly maintained blades dulled after butchering without proper care.
Yet the young knight ignored all with power and skill, carving through villagers. Even with a club in hand, the outcome would be the same.
"This can't... this can't happen."
The man muttered rapidly, raising the cleaver. Eyes gleaming maniacally, he glared at a charging villager.
"R-run away!"
"Yeah? Really?"
His cleaver swiftly severed the villager's throat. The villager clutched it, gurgling as he staggered back.
"Guh! Kkgh!"
"This is enough! Damn it, stop rushing in!!"
Blood from dying villagers in the square flowed across the ground. The summoning circle remained incomplete. The man bit his lip, watching the approaching knight.
Then, a whisper tickled his ear.
[Already here.]
-Poof!
The man blankly stared at the dark green blade protruding from his chest. Icy chill climbed his veins, freezing his body.
"Kkuuuhhh..."
[Amusing.]
Giggling came from behind. Forcing his head around, the man saw it: amid the charred barn pillars, a shattered corpse rising.