Chapter 417
Chapter 417. Poison Vines and Flowers
The morning after summoning Virosa usually starts off pretty poorly.
I had a dream about my hometown burning again for the first time in a while. What’s up with that? Is my heart just trying to maintain some emotional balance on its own? Either way, I feel like crap.
“Good morning.”
Leila, who had woken up earlier, smiled at me in a way that seemed to show concern. …She might have seen me tossing and turning in my sleep. I still don’t want Leila to see my gloomy face.
“Yeah… good morning.”
Taking a deep breath, I got out of bed. The morning sun poured in through the window, and I could hear the hustle and bustle of the city. …Looks like it’s another nice day.
Last night, after dropping Ohanna off at her place, I returned to an inn near the Holy Church. Then I called forth Virosa’s spirit… and, well, you know the rest.
Still, the Ark Deacon Trading Company really does have its quirks, doesn’t it? They might be engaging in some shady dealings because they lack the influence of the puppet trading company and their bad reputation might be overshadowed by the profits they make.
Now that I know Virosa’s nephew might be around, I can’t just stand by and do nothing.
—What should I do from here on out?
As I got dressed, I found myself pondering such things. Immediately after my exile, one of my major goals was to dismantle the Night Elf spy network within the allied territories. However, due to the recent distribution of flyers, hunters of dark folk have started emerging all over the continent, and outside of hopeless places like Sabai, the extermination of Night Elves is proceeding smoothly.
“You might not need to be so active anymore.”
That’s how it seems. Well, in the far eastern edge of the continent, where the Demon Lord Army’s threat is distant and everything is peaceful, who knows how serious their hunters are?
In any case, if the spy network near the front lines collapses, then no matter how much effort I put into spying in the eastern extremities of the continent, there will be no way to deliver the gathered information to the Demon Lord Kingdom. In terms of ‘intelligence,’ it’s not an exaggeration to say the Night Elf network has already been dismantled.
In the coming war, the allied forces will no longer be troubled as much by supply disruptions or sabotage of resource depots.
“So, your role within the allied territories has come to an end, and you can take a full-blown vacation now?”
Antendeixis said teasingly.
Ha ha, you know that’s not the case.
Even if I don’t actively get involved anymore, the poison vines cut off from the Demon Lord Kingdom will gradually wither away.
So what should I do? If there’s something only I can do with the remaining time to support the allied forces and defeat the Demon Lord Kingdom?
—It would be to cut down the poison blossoms that have taken root and begun to bloom within the allied nations.
As I was mulling over this thought and leaving my room, I ran into Milt’s Old Man coming out of the side room.
“Ah, good morning.”
“Good morning. It’s another pleasant day.”
He looked like a kind old man, smiling as if the anger from last night was all a lie.
It seems that Milt’s crew had also taken this inn. It’s a decent place with a reasonable price thanks to the Holy Church’s connection, and while the services are just adequate, the security is good (after all, it’s right next to the Holy Church). There are certainly more luxurious and glamorous inns in Sabai, but the old man seems to prefer a more straightforward, respectable place.
We all headed toward a nearby tavern. This tavern apparently handles breakfast for all the guests in the area.
“Good. It’s delicious.”
Freshly baked bread, summer vegetable soup, nicely grilled sausage, and a light ale with squeezed lemon juice. The portion is generous and I’m thoroughly satisfied. Leila seems to love the fresh bread, devouring it with both hands.
“Hey… look at that waitress, Hans. Isn’t she a beauty? Shouldn’t we invite her for tea later?”
“Uh, no… she is pretty, but I’m not really into that sort of thing…”
At a nearby table, the smooth-talking curved sword wielder from Milt’s group was nudging a rather unremarkable young man in their group with his elbow, whispering to him.
I’ve at least introduced myself to them lightly.
The flirtatious curved sword wielder is Shuken. He’s in his thirties, always wearing a mischievous grin, and boasts impressive swordsmanship that matches his confident attitude. The memory of his grand performance from last night is still fresh. It seems he was picked to guard the old man because of those sword skills.
The one blushing under Shuken’s teasing is Hans. We barely exchanged greetings in the introduction, and he seems shy, so I’m not sure what kind of person he is. All I know is he’s from the countryside and seems a little clumsy. His awkward clothing and stumbling speech give me that impression, but there’s also an intelligent gleam in his eye that feels somewhat mismatched.
“Hey, Shuken. Don’t sway too young a man who has a future ahead of him.”
Kirk, with a serious face while drinking his soup, admonished him. He’s a well-built man in his mid-thirties, clearly someone tough (and he really is). He’s a hard worker who’s strict with himself and others, giving off more of a soldier vibe than a bodyguard. He might have been a former soldier.
“This is so tasty!”
The beastman Hien is shoving sausages down his throat, even asking for a second helping. He seems to be from the Hamilton Principality’s minority group, the Forest Tiger tribe. He calls Milt’s Old Man “Master” and respects him. He appears to be quite difficult to please, showing little trust towards humans other than Milt’s group. When I asked him why he referred to him as “Master,” he simply replied, “The old man is a master.”
“Oh ho ho.”
And the old man, in between Shuken’s playful banter and Kirk’s admonishment, was smiling with a cheerful expression. I can’t help but wonder if this elderly man can beat a beastman in physical skill?
By the way, I haven’t seen Gizelle, the woman who went to investigate the trading company. If Virosa’s nephew is around, she’s probably quite skilled too. I hope she’s okay.
“—Good day, everyone!”
Suddenly, a man dressed for travel with a harp walked into the tavern.
“With this refreshing morning air, please enjoy my song!”
It seems he’s a bard. He hurriedly set up a container for tips while starting to play his harp in a corner of the tavern.
“O beautiful Hamilton Principality!
Like a sword, piercing the heavens,
From the mountains of Dicosmou,
Behold the vast, blue Aulitos—”
It seems to be a folk song of the principality praising the imposing mountains separating it from the neighboring Kaizaan Empire and the beauty of Aulitos Lake, humorously depicting the cheerful yet stubborn nature of the people of Hamilton Principality.
The residents seem to be quite familiar with the song, and the customers having breakfast in the tavern listened with smiles on their faces, but—
“—The current Lord Orlando is known as a rare and renowned ruler!
Together with our old ally, the Kaizaan Empire,
Since the reign of former Lord Graham, the principality has flourished even more—”
After the bard started praising the rulers, the atmosphere in the tavern began to turn a bit strange.
The customers who were listening with smiles suddenly turned serious or wore displeased expressions. Some even finished their meals in a huff and left the tavern. Is the current king not very popular?
I mean, while I was listening casually, it’s fine to praise the current lord, but isn’t it odd to compare him to the former Lord Graham and kind of put him down in the process…?
“Nggg…”
Oh no, Kirk looks like he’s gritting his teeth and trembling. He’s holding his knife and fork tightly, looking like he might stand up and kick over his chair any moment.
“Hey, hey, don’t get so worked up,” Shuken said, grabbing his shoulder to calm him, but Kirk glanced daggers at the bard, seemingly oblivious to the restraint. …The bard, upon noticing the tavern’s bad atmosphere, closed his eyes and continued singing, clueless to the brewing crisis.
“Calm down, Kirk.”
Just as the old man was speaking while enjoying his after-meal tea—
“Shut up!”
A customer suddenly shouted, throwing the peels of fruits from dessert at the bard. It hit him right in the face, and he let out a “What?!” and stopped his performance.
“I’ve been listening for a while, and all you’ve been spouting is nonsense! Since Lord Graham abdicated, King Orlando has raised taxes and let thieves run rampant! Nothing good has come out of it!”
“Yeah, that’s right!”
Other customers joined in agreement.
“W-What do you expect me to say to that?”
The bard stammered as they surrounded him.
“What do you mean ‘old ally with the Kaizaan Empire!’ Those guys have just been taking over lately, and our business has gone to heck…”
“So you’re in league with the empire, huh?”
“Get out of here!!”
Pelted not with tips but with garbage and insults, the bard left the tavern in disarray.
Ugh…
I heard from Arthur that northern Aulitos Lake is a bit politically turbulent, but it seems that even the common folk are getting heated more than I anticipated…?
“Spreading convenient information for rulers through bards has been a common tactic since ancient times. It doesn’t always go well…”
Antendeixis chuckled delightedly. The more chaotic the situation becomes, the more delighted he is… it’s truly exhausting.
“Well…”
Kirk, who was just about to lose his cool moments ago, seemed to finally calm down a bit, snorting and nibbling on leftover bread. Meanwhile, the old man took a sip of his tea and sighed contentedly.
†††
“Well then, I’m off.”
“Okay! Take care.”
After breakfast, I parted ways with Leila and headed into the city alone to make contact with the Ark Deacon Trading Company.
Leila didn’t have anything to do alone, and I figured that having such a lovely girl wandering around the streets of Sabai wouldn’t end well, so I left her back at the inn. I do feel a bit bad about it. She’s probably playing board games with Barbara in our room to kill time right now.
Dressed in travel clothes, donning a hooded cloak, I must look like a suspicious traveler. I used transformation magic in a back alley to switch up my hair color and appearance. The face of “Zilbagias” is just too good-looking… I wanted to tone it down a bit, make it look more like my past self instead, with a bit of a rustic vibe.
…It’s a little depressing, if I’m honest.
“All right, where is the Ark Deacon Trading Company, then…”
Regaining my focus, I checked my location. The Ark Deacon Trading Company has a trading house located somewhat away from the center, near the harbor. I adjusted my hood and hastened through the alley.
Keenly observing the streets while recalling earlier events at the tavern and the worsening public morals Arthur mentioned, it became clear that governance was indeed in decline.
Once I left the bustling shopping district, the customer-friendly smiles faded away, and the expressions of the residents turned grim, giving off an atmosphere that was somewhat bleak. I spotted beggars crouched by the roadside, and panhandlers were also visible. Nearby, a drunken man stumbled by in broad daylight. While the main street sparkled with vibrancy, garbage remained scattered, and health conditions in the alleys were even worse…
“Oh, a demon folk! Prince Zilbagias!!”
Suddenly, I heard a voice calling from around the corner, grabbing my attention. It was the voice of a raspy old man.
Looking closer, I saw a frail old man with wild hair and a beard, dressed in tattered rags, kneeling on the ground and looking up at the sky, shouting wildly.
“The Demon Lord Kingdom is the true ruler! Only the Demon Lord Kingdom can bring order to this rotten world!!”
His murky eyes made him look far from sane, and passersby either ignored him or mocked him.
“Prince Zilbagias of the Demon Lord Kingdom has come to the alliance! This is good tidings! He is a messenger of the Demon Lord Kingdom and a savior who brings destruction and creation!”
Oh boy…
What is he even saying…?
“Oh, people of the land! Accept the rule of the demon folk! The Holy Church, the nobility, and the king are all just money-grubbing fools! They’ve made the demon folk the villains and are trying to deceive us!”
The old beggar’s proclamations were met with snickers from passersby, who murmured things like, “Well, that’s not all wrong,” and “It’s true they’re money-grubbing.”
…There’s a lot I can’t just ignore here.
“Hey, old man, demon folk aren’t anything good.”
Thinking it might be futile, I tossed a coin into the container the old beggar had set out while trying to interject.
“What nonsense! You’ve been deceived by the Holy Church! The demon folk are a fair race that judges everything by strength! They’re unlike the ugly human folk, tied down by established interests!”
Uh… it’s true they have a meritocratic nature, but…
“The demon folk see human folk as nothing but livestock. Those with weak magical power are just killed off.”
“Don’t believe the Holy Church’s nonsense! They’re just trying to stir up our sense of crisis and extort donations!”
“I’ve fought on the front lines before. The demon folk really are nothing good.”
“Damn it, you’re a dog of the Holy Church! Get lost, I don’t want your money!!”
The old beggar threw aside the coin I had tossed into his container and shoved me in the chest with a loud thud.
“Ah! Damn it! Demon folk! Demon Lord! Prince Zilbagias! Come to this land! Destroy this rotten world and bring a new order!”
As he drooled, the old beggar roared at the heavens.
“Hey, who do you think governs better, the current king or the Demon Lord?”
“Who knows, maybe the Demon Lord might actually be the better ruler.”
“If the Demon Lord’s army shows up, nobility and commoners alike will be treated the same, right?”
“Now that’d be something to laugh about.”
The passersby continued their jokes, mingled with laughter—
This is one of the outcomes of the Night Elf agents’ work.
People far removed from the front lines have been tainted by the favorable rumors about the Demon Lord Kingdom or demon folk spread by agents, or conversely, by the slander directed at the Holy Church and allied nations.
The toxic seeds scattered by the Night Elves.
Blooming and flourishing, the flowers of evil.
I’ve been feeling for a while that something needs to be done. The threat of the demon folk and their absurdity, the plight of the Holy Church and the allied nations—none of it is truly understood.
I need to take action—
A move that the Holy Church and allied nations can’t make, something that I can.
A way to inform the peaceful, oblivious people in the rear of the true threat that the demon folk pose.
“Hehe… you know what to do.”
The Demon God whispered.
“All you have to do is shed blood as the Demon Lord’s Prince.”
… I pretended I didn’t hear him.
Leaving the old beggar behind, I quickly moved away from the scene.
I made it through the back alleys and out to the lakeside where I could see the lake. Referring to my notes, I matched the address and finally arrived.
It was a luxurious-looking trading house that was quite dazzling.
“Um, is this the Ark Deacon Trading Company?”
I plastered a cheerful smile on my face and, removing my hood, approached the guard at the entrance.
“…Who are you?”
The guard eyed me suspiciously from head to toe.
“Actually, I was asked to deliver a letter.”
I pulled out a well-packaged, hefty envelope from my chest.
“To Mr. Bennett at this trading company…”
The guard’s expression turned complex as he listened to my words.
“…He disappeared a while ago after embezzling money from the trading company.”
Oh?
Just as I thought.
