Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Close Aide (3)
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Every time he recalled the past, Dietrich thought to himself.
That era had truly been filled with brilliant glory.
When they first met, that man was not yet an archbishop.
At the time, his rank was bishop, and he led a group of about twenty combat priests.
He had been deployed amid the factional struggles within the Dialogue Church, but due to a superior's erroneous orders, they ended up surrounded by the enemy.
Even as his combat priests fell one by one, he fought on, his body drenched in blood. Like a machine born solely for battle, he threw himself fully into the hopeless fight.
Dietrich, who was part of the encirclement, was captivated by the sight.
Seeing Dietrich standing there dazed, having lost the will to fight, the man spoke to him.
If you don't know what you're fighting for, come to my side.
From that moment, Dietrich came to regard that man as his lord.
Having amassed countless achievements, he ascended to the position of archbishop, and Dietrich served as his right-hand man, always fighting by his side.
To Dietrich, battling alongside his lord was the greatest honor.
He dreamed of serving until the day his lord rose to Grand Archbishop and conquered the world...
But Dietrich's aspirations were shattered mercilessly.
His lord was suddenly purged. While Dietrich was away on another mission, Archbishop Gateus appeared wielding the Demon Sword Igzard and took his life.
At first, Dietrich sought revenge. But taking vengeance against the mighty Dialogue Church was realistically impossible.
He even considered ending his own life to follow his lord, but ultimately abandoned that idea as well.
He had to help his comrades who had decided to leave the Dialogue Church evade their pursuers.
His comrades scattered in all directions during their escape.
Dietrich wandered aimlessly, evading pursuers, and before he knew it, he had returned to his hometown.
There, he started a restaurant, reminiscing about memories with his mother.
Reviving the memory of a conversation with his lord: Someday, when there's no more need to fight, I want to try running a restaurant.
Recalling how his lord had eaten every bite of the tasteless dish Dietrich had made as a test, without complaint.
"Later, you must return to your hometown and open a restaurant. That's a promise."
"Understood. Then you must come to my restaurant and have a meal, my lord."
"Agreed. We'll do that."
"That's our promise to each other. You must keep it."
His lord had not kept the promise.
But Dietrich was keeping it.
Until the day he died... he intended to keep it.
* * *
Crash!
A chair kicked over tumbled across the restaurant floor.
"Please don't do this..."
Dietrich protested weakly.
He couldn't raise his voice. He knew that protesting forcefully here would only make them act out more.
"Don't do this? That's what we should be saying."
The men who had entered the shop numbered five.
They were underlings of a notorious usurer in Redenburg.
"Isn't it normal to repay a loan properly? You planning to stiff us?"
"I've repaid all the principal..."
"You have to pay the interest, the interest!"
Dietrich hadn't borrowed directly from them.
He had borrowed from another merchant, but the IOU had somehow ended up in the usurer's hands.
He thought he had repaid the principal long ago, but for some reason, the interest had ballooned enormously.
"Hey, boss."
"Yes..."
"We know about your tough situation. Your place flies only flies every day, so scraping together money must be hard."
"..."
"Still, you gotta show some sincerity, right? Isn't that so?"
These guys knew Dietrich had no means to repay.
They just wanted to squeeze out some pocket change and vent their stress.
"Thanks to us, you can do business more easily in some ways. No other thugs come here causing trouble, right? That's because it's under our protection."
"Yes..."
"So..."
In the meantime, they began rummaging through the restaurant's cash box.
The payment from the young customer who had come earlier went straight into their pockets.
Watching this, Dietrich bit his lip.
"Really, just pennies."
"Not the change you set aside?"
They snickered among themselves, then one held out a document.
"Hey, we have a support program for struggling shops like yours."
"What now?"
"Don't tense up. We're not asking you to borrow money."
"A supply contract...?"
"We supply ingredients from a farm we know well. Cheap prices, stable supply."
Dietrich knew better by now.
Signing this would force him to buy massive quantities of worthless garbage ingredients every month, whether he needed them or not.
He hadn't read the fine print, but breaking the contract would likely require a huge penalty fee.
"Sorry, but I'll pass."
"No, why? This is a great opportunity."
"Not many customers. Even if I signed, I couldn't use the ingredients properly."
"Hey..."
Then the hulking man who had been watching from the side interjected.
Without a word, he backhanded Dietrich across the head.
"Urk..."
"Don't be a pain. Just sign."
The man kicked Dietrich in the stomach as he lay on the floor.
"We need five more contracts this week. If you pull this, it puts us in a bind."
"So, if I sign, it'll put me in a bind..."
"If you can't use all the ingredients, just eat them yourself. You look like you've got plenty of room in that gut."
As he kicked the protruding belly, laughter erupted around him.
"If you don't like that, just close shop. We'll hook you up with a job."
"You mean... the mine in the west?"
"Yeah, you know it. Better money than running this dump."
"The conditions there are so bad, lots of people die... Urk!"
"Sticking with this business ain't got a future anyway. Die cooking or die swinging a pickaxe—same difference."
With that, the man spat in Dietrich's face.
"Can't even cook worth a damn, and you cling to this restaurant. Beats me why."
"..."
Dietrich said nothing, just curled up.
He merely hoped this would pass quickly.
'Yeah, endure it.'
Enduring wasn't hard.
To Dietrich, every ordinary day was already a time of endurance.
'Like this, until the day I die...'
Endure until this life ended, keeping the promise with his lord.
That was what a man who had failed to protect his lord should do.
"Yeah, I get the gist."
Right then.
A clear voice that sounded familiar rang out.
Looking up... the boy who had been a customer earlier stood at the entrance.
* * *
A fat man curled up on the restaurant floor.
Thugs surrounding him, wielding violence.
Seeing this... I understood everything.
"Why are you just standing there?"
"C-customer."
The curled-up man urgently lifted his head.
"Don't mind it. I'm just talking with people I know, so please, sir, just..."
"Why are you letting these scum be?"
"Pardon?"
"Shouldn't you just kill them all?"
"..."
He fell silent.
Instead, the surrounding thugs reacted harshly.
"Who's this punk? New face."
"What are you?"
"Wanna die?"
But I ignored them and continued.
"Why are you putting up with this? Why are you living like this?"
"..."
When I saw Dietrich running a restaurant, I thought about just leaving.
It seemed like he had forgotten his Dialogue Church days and started a new life.
I didn't want to interfere with his fresh start.
I wanted to respect him.
But no.
"You're not the type to just take this lying down."
"..."
"But you're keeping your mouth shut and enduring. Even through this, you keep running the restaurant."
It was illogical by any standard.
If he didn't want trouble, he could just leave this place and start over somewhere else.
Why stay here, enduring torment?
Why cling to running a restaurant here?
"Was it because of a promise?"
"..."
A promise.
Dietrich had made a promise with me long ago.
To definitely return to his hometown someday and open a restaurant.
"Were you just keeping that promise?"
It wasn't a new life.
He stayed here, running the restaurant, to keep the promise with Archbishop Hausel, to whom he had pledged loyalty.
Even with no customers, even with thugs causing havoc, just enduring patiently.
"Were you living like this for over ten years... just to keep that promise?"
Without relying on anyone.
Alone, bearing all the pain.
This man was performing an unrecognized penance to keep the promise he made with me.
"Who are you?"
His voice had changed.
It was a cold voice, utterly different from moments ago.
"How do you know about that promise?"
"What do you think?"
"..."
He stared straight through me.
He thought I was a pursuer sent by the Dialogue Church.
"You bastard."
Seeing this, I gave a wry smile.
"Have you forgotten me?"
"...?"
"Even in that state, I recognized you at first glance."
Even in that form, I could tell.
That it was Dietrich, my right-hand man.
"You can't recognize me just because my appearance has changed?"
The moment I asked.
The face bloated with fat twisted.
"No... way."
"..."
"That can't be."
Looking at my face, he trembled all over.
"We confirmed the body. We all confirmed you were dead."
"I see."
"The Dialogue Church officially announced your death. You are definitely dead."
"Yes, I died. That's true."
"Then why... why..."
"Why do you think?"
I shoved the thugs aside and approached him.
"I've returned from hell, Dietrich."
"Aaah...!"
The moment I called his name, tears welled in his eyes.
"You've suffered keeping our promise all this time."
"Ah, aaah...!"
"I kept my promise too, coming to your restaurant for a meal. Sorry it took so long."
"Aaaaaah...!"
Tears streaming from both eyes, the man sobbed uncontrollably.
Unable to contain his emotions at seeing his lord, whom he thought had died over ten years ago, appear in a new form.
"But Dietrich, the promise is void."
"My lord, my lord...!"
"I said to run a restaurant when you no longer needed to serve me. But that's not the case now."
"Then, then...!"
"Serve me once more. Can you do it, Dietrich?"
The moment I asked.
The man swallowed his tears and nodded.
"Of course...!"
A resounding answer.
I felt satisfaction at his response.
"You bastards... what the hell is this?!"
"Spouting nonsense!"
The thugs, who had been watching in confusion, finally moved.
The hulking one who seemed the leader roughly grabbed my shoulder.
"I don't know what's going on, but you know this guy? Perfect. This guy owes us..."
"Remove your filthy hand from my lord. Now."
A sudden icy voice rang out.
Realizing it came from the guy who had been curled up moments ago, the hulking man scowled.
"You little shit, got some guts... Huh?"
"W-what?"
Everyone was shocked.
Smoke was rising from the fat man slumped on the floor.
[It's a bit gruesome.]
'No choice.'
As the smoke billowed, the flesh melted away.
The thick layer of fat enveloping his body sloughed off in chunks. And his true form hidden beneath was revealed.
"You don't age, do you, Dietrich?"
"Has my lord aged backward to become that form?"
Utterly different from before.
A lean build without an ounce of excess fat, a sharp face with refined features... With his silver hair cascading down, freed from the buried flesh, he looked exactly as he had in the past—like an elf from an extinct ancient race.
"You, you bastard, what are you? A monster?!"
"I told you clearly."
"W-what?"
"Remove your filthy hand from my lord."
In that instant.
The man's hand gripping my shoulder froze solid with a crack.
"Gyaaaah?!"
"Brother!"
The other thugs rushed to help.
But it was futile.
"Gaaah!"
"My leg, my legs!"
Their legs were simultaneously frozen solid by deployed magic.
[Impressive casting speed. So this is the 9-star mage who was your right-hand man.]
This was Archbishop Hausel's right-hand man.
Dietrich of the Ice Flame.
"Dietrich."
"Yes, my lord."
"Clean up all traces and depart in one minute. Can you manage?"
"Not even ten seconds needed, my lord."
With a snap of his fingers, all the thugs in the restaurant froze.
Not figuratively—literally, their entire bodies encased in ice.
Confirming this, I stepped outside.
As Dietrich followed, a massive explosion sounded from behind.
"No lingering attachments?"
"None."
Even after burning down the workplace of over ten years, Dietrich showed no regret.
"Where did those guys come from?"
"Underlings of a famous usurer in this area."
"Handle them all. Ensure no one comes looking for you."
"I'll disguise it as internal strife leading to their self-destruction."
"How much time do you need?"
"Ten minutes suffices, my lord."
"Too fast."
"I've simulated it over a hundred times in my head."
"How'd you keep your temper in check all this time?"
I couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief.
"Finish up quick and let's go, Dietrich."
"Understood, my lord!"
My right-hand man, lost long ago.
The subordinate I trusted most had returned to my side.
The perfect card to seize the Holy Knight Order and topple the Dialogue Church had fallen into my hands.