Chapter 035: Calamity (2)
The Transporters.
I dredged up a mory.
Roxley of Canchester had said that so of the slaves received from the Gunbel Trading Company were handed over to them.
“Are you talking about the Transporters of the magic sect?”
“Yes.”
Firefield Village chief Mateo let out a sigh and hung his head.
“Sir Fred told to comply with their demands just a few tis. He said he could diate afterward.”
“……”
“He told to personally select the people.”
He covered his eyes with his hand.
Tears dripped through the calloused knuckles.
“We escaped those bastards and ca all this way…”
“……”
“How could I, with my own hands, send my own people… How could anyone do that…!”
He sobbed, even drooling.
It felt crushing.
For Mateo, it must have been a pain he thought was over and done with, a pain I couldn’t dare fathom.
“Mateo Munter.”
“…Yes, my lord.”
“Don’t worry anymore. I’m here now.”
His red, wet eyes looked at , but I had no other words to offer.
Now wasn’t the ti for empty comfort.
I stepped out of Mateo’s house.
Standing with my back to the door, I glanced back.
It was hardly a house—more like sothing that would collapse with a single tap from the hilt of a sword.
“I heard crying inside… Is Father crying?”
Loui, who had been loitering outside, rushed over as if he’d been waiting and pressed his eye to a crack in the splintered door.
His face was full of innocent curiosity.
This boy might never know.
Years ago, deceived by cunning promises, he and his entire family had boarded a ship.
The future he had dread of with swelling hope.
The truth he soon realized.
The world that crumbled when he lost his wife and daughter and yet, the son he had to protect at all costs.
As a father to his child…
I know the ti and courage it takes to confess such stories honestly and seek forgiveness are never small.
Mateo might never get that chance.
I want to protect ‘Father’ Mateo.
Tap—
“Huh?”
I placed my hand on Loui’s head and gently pulled him away from the door.
As I ruffled his hair and let go, he looked up at with clear eyes.
“Is it okay to be standing around like this? Bruce is dead.”
“I was just about to ask Father about that. It’s… it’s fine, right? Sir Fred has a lot of sworn brothers.”
“That’s a separate matter. Either way, since you served as his squire, they’ll interrogate you.”
“Interrogate?”
“They’ll harass you.”
“Oh no… That’s bad…”
As Loui stood there, dumbfounded, I gave a wry smile.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw three young won.
‘…’
The mont our eyes t, all three hurriedly moved away, heading down toward the bottom of Firefield Village.
I couldn’t take my eyes off them.
Their appearance wasn’t just odd—it was downright bizarre.
They were dressed in extravagant clothes, with heavy makeup, all dolled up.
“Those people…”
“Harlot sisters?”
Loui said the term so casually, with such an innocent face.
…My head went blank.
“Loui, go inside.”
“Huh, Father!”
Mateo had opened the door.
He pushed his oblivious son back into the house and spoke.
“They said a distinguished guest is coming to Sir Fred’s residence today. They asked us to prepare the children carefully…”
“Is a knight demanding courtesans now?”
“It’s better than being dragged to a demonic beast-infested labor camp. At least they might survive…”
I took a deep breath.
I barely managed to disperse my boiling anger with a huff.
This was annihilation of dignity.
It was on a completely different level from being extorted with unjust taxes.
“…My lord. Since we ca to this land, this is the most stable it’s ever been. At least we have a place to stand now. We no longer have the strength to fight.”
His voice, laced with resentnt, spoke of resignation.
I glanced down the path leading below Firefield Village before answering.
“Get everyone ready and wait. Tonight, we’ll leave this place.”
There was no ti to explain in detail.
I turned my back on Mateo, who had snapped his head up.
* * *
“Gremio or Doremi or whatever, it’s not happening. This area is restricted.”
Two ard soldiers at the mountain’s entrance blocked the way like gatekeepers.
Joel pushed himself between their crossed spears.
“What about the won who just went down?! Let us through too!”
“Only those permitted by Sir Fred can pass.”
“Hah, seriously?! Permission? Per-mis-sion?! He’s got private soldiers setting up restricted zones? Is this Fred guy claiming to be the lord of Ludglen now?! This is treason against the House of Conwell…”
Clang—
“Hey, shut your mouth. Unless you want a hole in your neck.”
“…”
Joel glanced at the spear tip inches from his chin and slowly backed away.
Keeping his eyes on the soldiers, he whispered softly.
“What do we do, my lady?”
This ti, Adeline stepped forward.
She held out a small bundle she’d pulled from her sleeve.
“There’s enough in here to satisfy you.”
“…”
“No need to worry about getting in trouble. We’ll get permission later. As rchants, we don’t like wasting ti or routes…”
As the two soldiers exchanged glances, staring blankly at the bundle in Adeline’s palm—
Keeeing!
A thin horizontal line sliced across both their necks.
Adeline flinched.
The ensuing shockwave and silver afterimage made her mind reel.
Thud, thud.
Their heads fell first.
Their bodies collapsed like marionettes with cut strings, revealing Bihen standing behind them.
He sheathed his sword with an air of utter calm.
“Bihen…!”
“Good timing. I’m glad we t like this.”
Janson and Joel, still shaken, stood beside Adeline.
All three were half-dazed from the scene they’d just witnessed.
“Bihen, what’s going on…”
As Janson tried to approach, Bihen held up a hand.
It ant don’t co closer.
“All three of you, from now on, have nothing to do with .”
“…!”
Shock spread across their faces.
Adeline, catching her breath, said,
“I know there are Imperial refugees up there. It seems you’ve heard the sa.”
“Then there’s no need for a long talk.”
Bihen deliberately raised his chin.
It was his habit—when he wanted to emphasize his words, he didn’t raise his voice but did this instead.
“I’m going to slaughter Fred and his entire crew.”
Joel and Janson gasped.
Even their contorted faces didn’t faze him.
“I’ll stay by their side until they find a proper ho. It’s my duty. Even if it ans wandering every corner of the Kingdom.”
Adeline’s long eyelashes trembled.
There was no need to ask why he was suddenly cutting ties.
She’d had a vague sense of it since their reunion.
Still, the shock wasn’t small.
Slaughter.
She knew it was the surest—nay, the only—way to uproot the deep-seated corruption and injustice of this land.
As the duke heiress, she had secretly surveyed every corner of the domain, even contemplating such drastic asures.
She had long distinguished between the serfs who needed protection and the forces lording over them, pondering who deserved punishnt.
Because it could cause chaos?
Because there might be a better way than bloodshed?
Because rcy was also a virtue a ruler should show?
None of those.
The reason she hadn’t acted was simple.
She lacked the strength.
Her blade was too dull.
“I’m against risking all their lives on a dangerous gamble. Now that we’ve grasped the situation,
I’ll go back and find a solution. It may take so ti… but please, bear with it for now, Bihen Benkou.”
Her tone was calm.
It was a practiced response.
Words of comfort—or excuses—she’d repeated to herself through countless failures and frustrations.
‘If not now, then when.’
With that resolve, she felt lighter.
Soone needed to step back and assess the situation coolly, as Roland and Eugene had done.
Above all, she didn’t want to lose him.
Bihen Benkou.
“You asked about Zephyros. Through Roland.”
It was sudden.
The veil covering her lower face made her eyes stand out, and even a slight frown made the creases on her brow prominent.
Adeline asked back,
“Why bring that up…”
“Since I’m the one involved, I can give a more accurate answer.”
They had discussed necessary evils and agreed on the need for a substitute.
Both Bihen and Adeline had maintained objective, rational stances.
Now was different.
“Looking back, I’m ashad. Who am I to discuss Kingdom affairs? Talk about ddling.”
“…Bihen.”
“I’m sorry, but this is a different matter. There’s no room for weighing pros and cons or thinking logically.”
Bihen looked straight at Adeline.
“I’m a swordsman of the Empire.”
If this were truly my business, I wouldn’t have acted purely on reason…
That’s how it ca across to Adeline.
“Leave this place now. Before you get caught up in it.”
Bihen passed by Adeline.
The three could only stare at his back.
The hem of his black cloak, barely brushing the ground, swayed gently.
* * *
anwhile, Fred’s mansion was filled with lively music.
Boisterous laughter and the clinking of glasses mingled with it.
“How is it? To your taste?”
“Oh, it’s too much, too much. You didn’t have to go this far. Thank you, Sir Fred.”
Two n seated side by side at the head table took turns speaking into each other’s ears.
The noise around them was so loud that it was hard to converse otherwise.
Clap! Clap!
At that mont, Fred clapped his hands above his head.
As if it were a signal, the musicians abruptly stopped playing.
“You can look forward to this, Sir Yeats.”
“Hoh?”
The man called Yeats was young.
His long bangs covered his eyes, and a languid smile seed permanently etched on his lips.
Swish.
In the ensuing silence, three won dressed as dancers entered the banquet hall.
Fred whispered into Yeats’s ear as he tilted his head.
“It’s an Imperial sword dance.”
“Sword dance? A dance with swords?”
“Yes. Those Imperial folk are obsessed with blades. No distinction between n and won.”
“That’s impressive. Turning swordplay into art.”
Long tables lined the spacious banquet hall, forming a periter.
The three won entered with delicate steps, moving between the tables.
These were the sa Imperial won Bihen had spotted in Firefield Village, and the distinguished guest Mateo ntioned was Yeats.
“Begin.”
At Fred’s signal, the orchestra conductor raised his hand.
When the baton ca down, the music would resu.
Aaaaaah—!
All eyes turned to the tightly shut banquet hall doors.
A scream echoed, as if coming from far away.
Yeats’s scoff stood out sharply.
“Sir Fred, quite a grand opening?”
As a flustered Fred tried to signal a subordinate to assess the situation—
Crash!!
Bihen burst through the doors, nearly shattering them.
At his feet lay the fallen doorn.
Bright red blood dripped from the tip of his sword.
The sight alone froze the banquet hall’s atmosphere in an instant.
“Who the hell are you!”
Fred leapt to his feet, his face pale, and shouted.
Bihen shook the blood off his sword and answered.
“Cervantes.”
The word carried the implicit aning of an Imperial knight sworn to walk the path of the stars.
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