Chapter 100
Chapter 100
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Night Crawler 2
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“Count Lantaric has been obsessed with that prophecy of Jupiter ever since his youth. Because the King's Radiance is indeed growing weaker.”
“What do you mean by that!”
Despite his Holy Knight status hanging by a thread through no fault of his own, Zibek's faith hadn't wavered. Yet here was some old man spouting blasphemy right in front of him—he couldn't help but feel rage.
Was he mocking a Holy Knight?
Under normal circumstances, such insolence against the King's Church would warrant immediate execution. But in Zibek's current position, he lacked the authority to punish anyone as a Holy Knight. More than that, he could instinctively tell the old man was speaking the truth.
‘At the very least, he believes it himself. And he says even Count Lantaric believes in that prophecy.’
It was too much raw anger in Brand's voice to dismiss it as the ravings of a mad old fool.
“What reason could Count Lantaric possibly have for believing such a dire prophecy?”
“If you're a Holy Knight, shouldn't you know? According to ancient records, every Holy Knight of the King's Church once wielded healing magic. But now, it's a miracle that only the new kings—those who claim the Royal Throne—can perform, and only by shedding their own blood. And that's not all. The King's Radiance is truly fading.”
“…….”
“Count Lantaric Garnahair knew this. He held a position where he could know. It's not just him. The royals, the high priests, and the high-ranking Holy Knights of the King's Church—they all know. The source of the King's Church, the King's Radiance, is weakening, and the blood of the Yaegas divine clan is growing thin. That's an undeniable fact.”
Zibek felt Brand was overstepping by discussing the upper echelons of the King's Church so boldly in front of him. But thinking of Sir Zekt dabbling in black magic brought a sudden doubt to mind.
‘Could Sir Zekt know this too, which is why he's turning to black magic? Seeking some other power besides the King's Radiance?’
The suspicion arose, but Zibek shook his head.
“That can't be.”
“Hmm. You're a fine Holy Knight.”
It was hard to tell if Brand's words were mockery or sincere.
“Many great nobles, including Count Lantaric, who foresee the twilight of the Yaegas divine clan, have turned to black magic or even attempted inbreeding among themselves to somehow restore the purity of the Yaegas blood. Count Lantaric tried both.”
“Inbreeding... you say?”
Azadin clicked his tongue. Inbreeding meant breeding to revive ancient traits in prized bloodlines—incestuous pairings.
And these people, close to the Yaegas divine clan, had done that?
“That's right. The count's basement is filled with the bones of countless children. The failures of his inbreeding experiments, buried in secret after being killed.”
“I'm not sure. As a Holy Knight of the Church, this is an outrage I can't tolerate. Do you have proof?”
“I did. I was fleeing Count Lantaric's lands with that very evidence gathered. But I got caught by his spy, Donear, and lost it all.”
“So you don't have it now.”
“But Lantaric has a spare ledger.”
“You want us to go find it.”
“Could you all keep it down, you warm-bloods?”
Shati grumbled as she examined Azadin's wounds. His broken ribs were tightly bandaged, showing only mild inflammation, but the real problem was the stab wound from the black steel sword.
Unwrapping the bandage revealed pus and blood still oozing from it.
“Good lord. With injuries like this...”
Zibek was shocked that Azadin had not only walked around unscathed with such wounds but even fought in battle.
“Tch.”
Shati soaked a cloth in strong liquor to clean the wound, then pricked her finger to draw blood and traced a circle around it.
“Cobra Queen Debislin, grant your power to this lowly servant.”
As she prayed to the nagas' goddess Debislin, green mana activated, and Azadin's wound rapidly scabbed over.
“Ooh.”
“Amazing.”
Everyone watching was impressed.
“That's why it feels weird when you all react like that.”
Azadin gave a wry smile, lying there with his chest wound exposed.
“You know, I healed you like this before, but then you went and fought, tearing the scab open again. If you do it once more, I won't heal you. Regenerative magic doesn't stack for stronger effects. It just speeds up healing time—the risk of reopening stays the same.”
As Shati spoke, Midiam snorted.
“What choice does a prisoner have, talking like that? Do as you're told.”
“I'm a prisoner?”
“Then what? A guest?”
“Why are you picking on me, warm-blood? Jealous because I'm better-looking?”
“What!?”
Midiam and Shati started bickering, and Brand cut in.
“White mana's healing restores. It erases the wound entirely. Green mana's healing regenerates. It shortens the natural healing time. Ah, am I explaining magic to you mages?”
Brand said this with a grin.
“And this is proof that white mana is weakening. Originally, the Holy Knights' magic from the King's Church was far more powerful than the Kurt divine clan's magic.”
“Why is this warm-blood picking fights with the Holy Knight and now me too? Just because I gathered mana from others to heal you, you're belittling the Cobra Queen's magic?”
Shati snapped at Brand too. With the treatment done, Azadin dressed and smoothed things over.
“Now, now, calm down. So, Count Lantaric's been dabbling in all sorts of black magic since his youth? From his perspective, he could see the Yaegas divine clan's power fading right before his eyes, just like Jupiter's prophecy?”
“So Count Lantaric tried various means, and in the process, that...”
“The imperial mint?”
“Actually, something even greater. The imperial treasury.”
“Wow.”
Azadin let out an involuntary whistle.
“Treasury—now that hits home.”
“It requires a physical key. And clues to find it. But I'm not in my right mind now, so I can't fully trust the memories left in my head. That's why I want to return to Lantaric and retrieve the materials I hid there.”
“Hmm.”
Azadin pondered Brand's words.
“Let's eat, rest, then decide. I see some abandoned village huts nearby—we can scavenge doors or planks to make rafts or splints.”
*********
Azadin's group set up camp near the Cora River.
“We give beans to the horses and goats, but we're short on food for ourselves.”
Azadin had boldly given most of his provisions to the refugees, leaving little for them.
“Want me to catch some fish?”
“Me?”
Ismail sighed as Azadin asked him.
“Yeah, please. I need to rest more. I pushed myself too hard showing off.”
He'd acted fine in front of others, but Azadin was exhausted from his injuries too.
“Got it.”
“I'll help too.”
Zibek joined him.
“No need.”
“No, actually, fishing's my specialty.”
Zibek pulled out his personal fishing hook from his pack.
“Back home, I have a rod I carved and shaped myself—wish I could use that.”
So it wasn't about the food; he was into fishing itself.
“You must really like fishing.”
“It's not that I like fishing—fishing likes me.”
‘This guy's got it bad.’
Ismail could tell from Zibek's words that he was dead serious about it.
“Then you'll be disappointed watching me.”
Ismail tied thread to an arrow and shot it toward the water.
*Splash!*
A large fish was skewered on the arrow.
“…….”
While Zibek stood there flustered with his hook out, Ismail fired another arrow and caught more fish. Every shot hit, and Zibek looked visibly disappointed.
“Hmm, this isn't fishing.”
“Right?”
Ismail reeled in the line to retrieve the speared fish. That's when a patrol from Count Lantaric's bridgehead—one cavalryman and four infantrymen—approached.
“What's going on?”
“Hide?”
“No, if we hide, they'll get suspicious. Keep doing what we're doing. I'm a Holy Knight of the King's Church—what do I have to hide from?”
Zibek and Ismail stayed alert just in case...
“Out of the way!”
“Move if you don't wanna die!”
But they weren't closing the distance at all.
“We're moving aside, but...”
They'd have to run fast for anyone to dodge properly. Everyone was exhausted; even the knight's horse was foaming at the mouth. These guys were barely crawling—yelling to move aside was pointless.
Still, Ismail pretended to step aside, but it took the patrol ages to reach them.
Their armor was damaged, blood splattered everywhere—something serious had happened.
“Huff... huff...”
“Damn it. We told you to move.”
“Hey, we did move. A whole legion of flies already passed us before you got here.”
As Ismail snarked, Zibek blocked the horse and took charge.
“I'm Holy Knight Zibek of the King's Church. What happened?”
“H-Holy Knight?”
“Thank the gods!”
The soldiers and knight sighed in relief.
“U-Undead attacked the bridgehead. We have to tell Count Lantaric!”
“Undead, you say?”
“It's...”
“The locals around here turned into undead. The count was right! These villagers were all heretics!”
“Heretics? Calm down and explain properly.”
Count Lantaric's army had crossed the Cora River, seized a bridgehead by taking a waterfront village with docks, and massacred the villagers.
The count's goal was a favorable position in territorial disputes. With his permission, his troops slaughtered the Sarasma natives freely, committing murder, looting, and arson. Then last night, the corpses suddenly rose.
“We executed them as heretics. We swear we weren't massacring for no reason.”
The count's knight said this, but it only proved how lightly oaths were taken.
‘We killed them not for heresy, but to loot.’
Zibek thought this but couldn't ignore the man's sworn claim without evidence, as a Holy Knight.
“We killed them not for heresy, but to loot.”
Ismail, unbound by such constraints, stated the truth outright.