Chapter 75
Chapter 75
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Chapter 13: Time of Clearing (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning.
A large crowd of citizens gathered in the central square of the city.
Their eyes were fixed on the guillotine erected in the center.
Kneeling before it were the criminals, all in wretched states except for Jerome Metselder, the former mayor.
Most were busy begging Martin for mercy, but one spat curses.
It was Ditmaer Hessler, Jerome Metselder's secretary.
"Even if the Adalbert family is the hegemon of the North, you have no authority to punish us on your own, Martin Adalbert! No matter how blinded by greed you are, you can't claim ignorance! To punish the citizens of Akella City, the Adalbert family and the imperial family must discuss it together!"
Ditmaer was brimming with confidence.
It stemmed from knowing the truth.
'The mayor rose this far with the support of the Royce Marquisate. Practically a vassal, so Marquis Royce will surely come to our aid. With luck, even His Highness the Second Prince might intervene.'
That wasn't all.
Nicholas von Royce had another reason he couldn't afford to lose Jerome Metselder.
The Royce Marquisate's influence in the North extended only to Akella City.
Losing that forward base and foothold for advancing into the North?
It would greatly undermine their very intent to seize the Adalbert family's position.
Of course, they wouldn't give up over something like that, but it was clear it would consume more time and resources.
With such certainty, Ditmaer was bold, and the White Dragon Knights watching clenched their fists.
They soon glanced at Lucas Hoffman.
Ready to break the man's teeth the moment an order came.
But Lucas betrayed his men's eager anticipation.
Because Martin showed he would hear them out to the end.
"What you're doing now is blatant overreach! You aim to swallow Free City Akella, but the other nobles will never forgive your arrogant actions! Not even if you're the Adalbert family's heir!"
"We demand a proper trial! We're not sacrifices for your power grab!"
"Summon someone from the imperial family! We'll stand trial under their watch!"
The other criminals echoed Ditmaer's shouts.
The only one showing no reaction was Jerome Metselder.
Ditmaer couldn't understand it but didn't dwell on it.
He assumed the man trusted and relied on him.
'Just buy time.'
Whether it was Marquis Nicholas's people or the Second Prince's, whoever came would turn this around.
Ditmaer smirked victoriously as he looked up at Martin.
Martin nodded readily.
"Overreach... I'll concede that. Proceeding like this could indeed breed misunderstandings."
"Then set a new trial date..."
"Ah, no need for that. We have someone who agreed to attend the trial just in case."
Ditmaer panicked at Martin's unexpected words.
The other criminals were equally stunned.
Step, step.
The footsteps rang out clearly, almost echoing in their minds.
"What a fearsome presence."
"Agreed."
Paolo and Armand, observing the trial, betrayed their tension.
They had no choice.
Even they, with their long lives, had to be wary of the powerhouse who had appeared.
She was a woman with gray hair and blue eyes.
Her beauty rivaled Solen's, unyielding in comparison.
Yet no one was captivated by her allure.
Instinctively, they shrank back.
Sensing the overwhelming aura she exuded subtly.
"Pleased to meet you, Young Lord. I am Irina von Minert."
"An honor to meet you, Countess Minert. And I'm truly sorry for making you travel so far."
"It's merely fulfilling my duty as a member of the imperial family. No need to worry."
The knight once called the continent's greatest genius before Martin replied in a calm tone.
He nodded lightly, then turned back to the criminals.
A mocking sneer curled his lips.
"Th-this can't be!"
Ditmaer despaired.
Irina von Minert was, without doubt, the First Princess's right-hand woman.
No one present was unaware of that fact.
Her presence here meant the Second Prince had failed to exert influence.
"The Adalbert family and the imperial family have discussed it, and we've decided to execute everyone involved in this slave market."
"As the Young Lord says. Her Highness the First Princess is truly furious that you violated an agreement ratified by every nation on the Krasian continent. All criminals will be sentenced to death."
"We've followed due process, so no complaints about proceeding with the trial now, right?"
Martin drove the nail home after Irina.
Neither Ditmaer nor the other criminals could speak.
They merely alternated dazed stares between Martin and Irina.
Of course, Martin ignored them cleanly.
"Then let the executions begin."
The cleanup of the North was nearly complete.
But there was one thing left before that, so Martin looked at Jerome Metselder.
Even having lost any chance of survival, he remained impassive.
Their eyes met, and he nodded faintly.
Confirming it, Martin did the same.
The meaning was simple.
Keep the promise made yesterday.
'I'll keep my word.'
The man had awakened his unique ability postnatally before Martin had.
He had respected him immensely for it.
Thus, he decided to show kindness this one last time.
* * *
The previous night.
After meeting the high elf Solen and the dwarf Andrea, Martin visited Jerome Metselder in his solitary cell.
The man sat on the bed with eyes closed.
His untouched meal tray sat as it was, suggesting he hadn't eaten.
'Tch.'
He had many precious people, but only this man evoked a true sense of kinship.
Yet he had to kill him with his own hands.
Of course, mercy wasn't on his mind.
He had to execute him to build ties with the elves and dwarves.
Still, his feelings were complicated.
"You know better than anyone, Jerome Metselder. Nicholas von Royce is not the type to leave loose ends. Regardless of reason, he won't spare your family. No matter how long you've served him loyally."
Rustle.
At Martin's words, Jerome opened his eyes.
Despite the long closure, his gaze held fierce power.
"...So? Guarantee my family's safety in exchange for whatever info I spill, Young Lord?"
"Exactly. Isn't it absurd? Your precious family dying just for associating with you?"
Jerome fell silent at Martin's point.
He wanted to retort, but couldn't.
How many had he watched die pointlessly, knowing nothing?
Back then, he mocked them for failing their tasks.
To think he'd end up the same.
He felt karma's sting anew.
"Your family is currently under White Dragon Knights' protection."
"...And if I refuse to talk?"
"Once I leave Akella City, protection ends. They were guarding me, after all—no helping it."
Martin shrugged lightly.
Jerome sighed softly.
Realizing he had no choice.
'Don't see this as betrayal, Marquis Royce.'
He wasn't afraid of dying.
Fortunately, he'd successfully awakened his unique ability postnatally in his youth.
He'd achieved his goals and enjoyed all he desired.
But he couldn't bear his beloved wife, children, grandchildren, and granddaughters following him in death.
He spoke heavily.
"As you know, Young Lord, I'm not an official vassal of the Royce Marquisate. I've received much support, true, but I wasn't permitted into core matters. Our ties aren't that deep, honestly."
"Doesn't matter. Just tell me about the Royce Marquisate's connection to the slave market."
"...The Royce Marquisate operates a secret knight order. They roam the continent, sometimes joining territory wars as mercenaries. They attack weaker territories, capture promising talents alive, and sell them as slaves."
"So the auction house slaves are supplied by the Royce Marquisate?"
Martin frowned.
He knew some of their misdeeds, but they paled compared to this.
Grabbing leverage to press them was good, but the severity made joy hard.
"Not all, but they hold a major share. Their primary mission is separate, though."
"Kidnapping elves and dwarves?"
"Precisely. You can assume every heterorace slave entering Akella City was dragged in by the Royce Marquisate."
"Any evidence? Doubt they left much."
"Nothing I'd call evidence. I only heard of the knight order once, from a conversation with the king. However..."
"However?"
"I've heard they're publicly known as a famous adventurer party."
"That's too vague for deduction. Countless adventurer parties in other countries double as mercenaries."
Unlike other nations that fully permitted mercenary work, the Alteria Empire restricted it.
Mercenaries could join territory wars but not enter dungeons in groups of five or more.
Adventurer parties, conversely, could never act as mercenaries, applying equally to foreigners.
The other five nations differed.
With so many cases, pinpointing one was nearly impossible.
"Finding them is your job, isn't it, Young Lord?"
"Fair enough, but... no hints?"
"Regrettably, no. As I said, my access was limited. That's all I know."
"Well, can't be helped. Thanks for the info—truly. As promised, your family will be protected until Nicholas von Royce dies."
"...I envy the guts to say that so casually."
"Got to have that much to be heir to one of the three great houses."
"Maybe so. In that case, as a fellow postnatal unique ability awakener, one piece of advice."
"Go ahead."
"Marquis Nicholas von Royce is a frightening man. Underestimate him, and regret won't be the end—keep that in mind."
"No intention of underestimating. Just won't cower before the fight. Thanks for the advice, though—no regrets."
"Good luck."
Jerome replied calmly.
Martin smiled bitterly.
Receiving consolation—not consolation—from the man he had to kill felt absurd.
Martin left the prison with heavy steps.
* * *
Martin looked at Jerome Metselder.
The man gazed up at him with a calm expression.
Now it was time to end it all.