Chapter 34
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: The Baron's Grief
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Following Wooden's lead to the citadel, Luon saw the low, crumbling castle walls, so dilapidated that the distinction between the outer and inner walls was meaningless. It was a fresh reminder of just how poor this fief was.
A dry laugh escaped him.
Are all demons like this?
It was amusing how, for all their posturing about worshiping a great demon, they all targeted the same things: monasteries in rural villages, churches, and tiny fiefdoms that looked more like clan settlements.
Of course, the underlying reason for such actions was likely to minimize unnecessary friction and proceed with their work in secret, but he felt no need to be understanding.
Just then, Wooden spoke.
“...You don't have to laugh. I know better than anyone how small and shabby this place is.”
From the self-deprecating tone in his voice, Luon realized the old butler had misunderstood something.
“That’s not why I was laughing. I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression.”
Surprised by Luon's polite words, Wooden shook his head and said,
“Ah, no. I've just been on edge, so I reacted too sensitively. My apologies.”
Igor said,
“It seems the baron’s condition is much worse than we thought.”
Wooden nodded.
“Ever since the young lady passed so suddenly, he’s locked himself in his study and hasn't come out for over a fortnight. It’s hard to believe he’s even alright.”
“And the baroness...?”
“She passed away long ago while giving birth to the young lady. With no siblings, the young lady was his lordship’s only blood relative. It was while he was grieving her loss that *that woman* came.”
Anger dripped from Wooden's words as he mentioned the woman. He clenched his wrinkled fists, his fury palpable.
Meanwhile, the group had entered the castle. The building, which looked more like a large manor than a castle, was filled with a desolate air, even though the sun had not yet set.
Just then, an elderly maid who was sweeping the floor threw her broom down and came running with quick steps.
“Master Wooden, where have you been!”
“Pick up your broom first, Mia. What is this disgraceful behavior in front of guests who have come to help?”
At Wooden’s scolding, the maid called Mia picked up the fallen broom and approached again.
“My apologies.”
Only then did Wooden’s expression soften as he said,
“His lordship?”
“The same as ever. He hasn't touched the food I left for him yesterday.”
“...And that woman?”
“She hasn’t come out of her room yet...”
Before Mia could finish, Wooden’s face contorted again as he bellowed,
“Watch your tongue! That is the late lady’s room! Not that wretched woman’s room!”
“I-I’m sorry.”
As Mia flinched, Wooden sighed and shook his head.
“My apologies, I went too far. You must be suffering as well... I seem to be making many mistakes today.”
“No, it’s all my fault, my carelessness. If only I had taken better care of the young lady that day...”
Seeing Mia’s eyes redden as her voice trailed off, Luon easily deduced that she was the maid who had gone to the mountains with the baron's late daughter.
Igor, who had been silent, spoke up.
“Sir Luon, where should we go first? The study? Or the room that woman is in? Or should we split up...?”
Instead of answering, Luon quietly wrapped his hand around the hilt of his holy sword. He could feel the faint vibrations of the blade.
At that, Igor fell silent.
“Is there anyone else living here?”
At Luon’s question, Wooden shook his head.
“Right now, it’s just Mia and myself. There were a few others who came every few days to help out... but after his lordship became like this, unpleasant rumors started to spread, so I forbade them from entering. But why do you ask?”
Luon said,
“Good. In that case, you two wait outside. I’ll call you when it’s over.”
“...Why, all of a sudden?”
“Because your concerns were not unfounded.”
Not understanding him at first, Wooden blinked.
“What?”
It was Igor who answered him.
“There is an evil power lurking here. He and I will dispose of it in the name of the Mother, so please, rest assured and wait outside.”
“W-wait, what are you talking about without even checking? Who are you people...?”
Luon cut off Wooden’s stammering.
“I won’t say it again. Get out.”
As Wooden stood there with a dumbfounded expression at the clear command, it was Mia who pulled his arm.
“Master Wooden, this way.”
She seemed to have realized something from Igor’s words and the pommel of the holy sword at Luon’s hip, for she bowed her head deeply.
“...Please, save the baron. Knights of Tivela.”
Watching Mia and Wooden walk outside after her words, Igor muttered quietly,
“...I’m a priest, though.”
“Enough nonsense. Let’s go.”
Luon immediately headed for the central staircase.
Following the increasingly strong pulse of the holy sword, his steps came to a halt before a rusted iron door on the third floor.
Beside the door, a tray sat forlornly, holding a piece of dried-out bread and a bowl of soup with a skin formed over its surface.
Frowning at the ominous, rotten stench seeping from beyond the door, Igor said,
“This must be the baron’s study.”
Luon quietly heightened his senses.
His enhanced hearing picked up the sounds from within.
“MydarlingmytreasuremyonlydaughterHannahlet’sbetogetherforeverwithyourfatherwherethere’snopainatrue...”
He could hear a man’s voice, muttering at an incredible speed as if speaking in tongues.
An eerie sensation, like hundreds of ants crawling over his ears, made Luon immediately place both hands on the iron door.
Screeech!
Unable to withstand the force pouring from his explosively expanding muscles, the thin iron door began to scream and buckle.
Forcing an arm into the gap he’d made, Luon immediately gripped the bolted latch.
Snap!
Unable to bear his tremendous grip, the entire latch was torn off, and the unfastened door slowly swung open.
A hot stench that had pooled inside the room hit their faces and billowed out.
But Igor, forgetting even the stench, stared at the scene before him and muttered under his breath,
“My gods...”
In the middle of the wrecked floor, a naked man covered in wounds was clutching something preciously.
In the man’s arms was a corpse, already badly bloated.
At the horrific sight, Igor immediately clasped his hands together.
“Mother, grant your mercy to comfort this broken soul.”
Along with the prayer, a gentle light emanated from his body and poured onto the man.
“Kaaack!”
Exposed to the light, the man fell backward and his body twisted bizarrely. Even so, his arms still held fast to the corpse.
Seeing that near-maniacal obsession, Igor said to Luon,
“I’ll try to stabilize him somehow.”
“Can you do it?”
“I have to try.”
As Igor approached the trembling baron and began to chant a prayer, a languid voice drifted from down the hall.
“My king enjoys observing troubled souls consumed by madness.”
Turning his head toward the sound, he saw a young woman in a flimsy nightgown, smiling.
“And who are you to interfere with his amusement?”
As she spoke, the woman’s smooth eyes narrowed. Her face twisted as if she had seen something unsightly.
“Tivela? So you’re that bitch’s lackeys.”
Seeing the woman’s forehead begin to sizzle and melt as she finished speaking, Luon snatched the bow from his back.
As he drew the transparent bowstring, an arrow of light materialized, stretched long, and shot through the air.
The arrow, flying like a beam of light, collided with a dark red barrier that had appeared over the woman’s body.
A volley of light arrows rained down upon the flickering barrier.
From within, the woman screamed,
“Be consumed and die!”
Beyond the sparks that erupted from the clash of opposing forces, something rushed toward Luon.
The formless power, knocking picture frames from the wall as it approached, struck him hard.
What is this?
For a moment, Luon felt an urge creeping into his mind—a desire to draw his holy sword and stab his own thigh.
Stab! Slash! Tear! Mince!
Fighting against the horrific voice invading his mind, Luon gripped the hilt of the holy sword tightly. Light burst from the pommel, gently enveloping his entire body.
At the same time, a flash of red lightning struck the barrier created by the holy sword.
Even as the impact pushed him back, the shouts urging self-harm continued to echo in his mind.
Claw! Break! Twist!
Shut up.
Luon roughly slapped his own cheek, gritted his teeth, and focused his mind.
As his overwhelming mental power—strong enough to artificially halt time—sharpened its edge, the voice churning in his head gradually faded.
Having regained his composure, Luon immediately drew the holy sword and struck down another bolt of red lightning.
The lightning split in two, and its remaining energy violently tore through the surroundings before dissipating into the air.
Seeing Luon rub his stinging cheek and spit bloody saliva onto the floor, the woman said,
“...You overcame the King’s authority with willpower alone? That’s impossible.”
As the woman groaned in disbelief, the symbol of Belducias, now fully formed on her forehead, blazed ominously.
“So what?”
Uninterested in a tedious back-and-forth, Luon gave his short reply and immediately kicked off the floor.
“Hmph!”
Gritting her teeth, the woman shouted something unintelligible.
“Drixium-Avento!”
Vile flames erupted from the woman’s fingertips and engulfed Luon as he charged.
Having poured all her strength into the attack, the woman smiled in satisfaction.
“The undying flames will...”
Her words were cut short.
For just as the stag pommel flew through the melting silver barrier to shatter her dark red shield, Luon’s other hand fiercely grabbed her by the throat.
“Gak! Gak!”
Lifted into the air in an instant, the woman desperately clung to Luon’s wrist. If he were to let go, even by accident, the full force of gravity would surely snap her neck.
“What? Want me to put you down?”
At the same time, Luon, who had raised the arm gripping her throat high, slammed the woman down onto the floor.
Crash!
The immense impact left the woman unable to even scream, her body curling up like a shrimp.
Luon looked down coldly at the woman and shouted,
“Igor!”
At his shout, Igor walked slowly out of the study, beaded with sweat. Luon asked,
“The baron?”
“I just forced him to sleep. He should be fine for now.”
Walking wearily to Luon’s side, Igor glared at the fallen woman and said,
“You wicked minion of a demon. Do you even realize the terrible things you have done?”
Ignoring him, the woman just continued to gasp and choke, seemingly in extreme pain.
The sight of the curvaceous woman, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, could easily be misunderstood by someone unaware of the context, but the gazes of the two men looking down on her were endlessly cold.
Luon knelt down, grabbing the woman’s cheek, and said,
“If you answer my questions properly, I’ll give you a painless death.”
As if uninterested in her opinion, Luon immediately added,
“So, where is your precious king now?”