CHAPTER 169

The square jaw that opened sharply was as impressive as the wide shoulders.

Although he was small in stature, there was nothing diminutive about the man's build.

Even with Peter's imposing presence filling the room, the gaze of that man showed no sign of deference.

"To be honest, I'm not pleased."

Sigurdsson stared at Peter with a gaze as sharp as his words.

It might have seemed impolite, but Sigurdsson had his reasons.

"What was the reason for suddenly changing the mayor of Shoara? No matter how you look at this, it seems like you are ignoring us."

"...I assure you, it was never my intention."

The news of Josef abruptly vacating his position had unsettled the dwarves.

Anyone would be taken aback by the sudden disappearance of someone they were working well with.

Peter thought he could handle the void left by Josef's departure, but the world of the dwarves, which he encountered for the first time, didn't move according to his expectations.

"Bayezid will still welcome the Nidavellir. It's just that the person conducting the business has changed too..."

"And that's exactly the problem."

Creak—

With a sharp dragging sound on the floor, Sigurdsson's chair was being pushed back.

As he stood up, it was evident to anyone that he had no intention of continuing the conversation.

"The problem lies in the change of personnel. The lord of humans. Peter Bayezid."

"..."

The man sitting right in front of him was the master of Bayezid, but Sigurdsson didn't particularly care about such things.

To him, the most important criterion was not where a person stood but how trustworthy they were.

"We came all the way to Shoara because of Josef Bayezid and Knight Vlad. If it wasn't for them, we wouldn't have even considered interacting."

The dwarves' history of persecution over the years had made them closed-off, and that was still the case.

The only reason their guard had been slightly lowered was because of Josef's polite letter sent with the young dwarves.

" If you want to talk to us again, summon Josef Bayezid, or Knight Vlad."

Sigurdsson began to firmly cross his arms, as if there were no more words to be said.

The straightforward manner of the dwarves' speech pointed directly to what they wanted.

"...Josef Bayezid or Knight Vlad."

The request was so direct that even Lagmus, the advisor standing next to him, was taken aback, but Peter, the target of the demand, was lost in thought.

Peter, who was neither embarrassed nor offended by Sigurdsson's request, simply needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

'A lot of people call that name.'

Unbeknownst to Sigurdsson, Peter wasn't the only one lately who had been seeking out those two names.

The Lord of Hainal and the girl with green hair were also searching for the suddenly vanished pair.

'So, this was why he agreed to do it.'

Now that Peter had finally understood Josef's intentions, he bowed his head silently, suppressing his complex emotions.

'He's been gathering them diligently all this time.'

Nidavellir, which had no interaction.

The fallen Rabnoma.

The insignificant Hainal.

And even the boy from the back alley who used to be a nobody.

Perhaps his second son was quietly picking up those things that had fallen to the ground while his older brother basked in the shining glory outside.

Polish them until they shine brightly.

※※※※

"Please, spare us, my lord."

"We've done wrong. Please, just spare our lives..."

Inside the village's grain warehouse.

In the dark and cold place, men were hanging upside down, pleading quietly for mercy.

Among them, the fake priest who hung highest had already been beaten until his once-white robes were stained red.

"Just spare your lives?"

Vlad, who heard the impostor's pleas, snorted as if he were dumbfounded and took out a dagger from his chest.

"Aggravated assault, threats, fraud, embezzlement, and even blasphemy."

With each sin he listed, small cuts were made into strips of jerky.

It might have seemed like trivial actions, but the vitality emanating from those actions was genuine.

"If we were to count all these sins, I'd have to bring you back from the dead and slit your throats again, right?"

"We're sorry, Sir Knight!"

"Please spare us, please!"

At Vlad's words, almost like a command, the fake priest and his cronies begged for mercy.

The man smirking below had the authority to make such a decision.

"Do you want to live?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Then hand it over."

"Huh?"

Vlad held out his empty hand as if it were obvious.

The fake priest, still hanging upside down, looked momentarily confused at the sight.

"You've probably hidden something during all this. You seem to have more than a couple of tricks up your sleeve."

"..."

Vlad didn't seem like this type of person.

Just moments ago, he had drawn his sword with the hymn of praise, shining brighter than any other knight.

However, his current appearance was nothing but a disheveled mess, like back alley thugs.

"If you don't like it, just say so. I heard the fire hasn't gone out yet."

"I'll do it! I'll hand over everything we have!"

Perhaps the swindlers hanging upside down right now wouldn't know.

The young knight smiling in front of them was someone who had committed aggravated assault, threats, fraud, embezzlement, and even blasphemy.

A greater evil suppressing evil.

The gaze of Vlad, smiling in the dark warehouse, seemed sinister.

※※※※

You said you'd spare us!

You damn swindler! Rot in hell!

The crowd of swindlers, dragged out by the villagers, was noisy.

Having exploited innocent trust for wealth and nearly burnt innocent people alive, they probably wouldn't die peacefully even if they were killed.

"Swindler? What nonsense is this?"

"Don't worry about it, deacon. Those scoundrels are known for pulling tricks till the end."

After patting his fat pockets, Vlad hurriedly turned Jean's shoulder and headed towards the village chief's house.

Although screams could be heard from behind, Vlad's face only wore a smile.

"By the way, what happened to the man hanging there? Is he dead?"

"Fortunately, he's alive. It's undoubtedly by God's protection."

While Vlad was dealing with the swindlers in the warehouse, Jean was busy treating the man who was supposed to be executed by burning at the stake.

Priest Andrea was renowned for his healing miracles, and Jean, having inherited some of his mentor's skills, was able to handle minor sacred matters.

"Oh... esteemed guests, please come inside quickly."

The village chief, who had been waiting outside, bent over so low as if he couldn't bend any further, and ushered Vlad and Jean inside.

"If it weren't for you two, I wonder what would have become of our village..."

The village chief, feeling like he almost fell for the worthless swindlers, kept bowing his head excessively.

The insane execution they almost had was punishable by law, and according to doctrine, it could have drawn criticism from the young deacon.

"The neighboring village was hit by a plague, and out of fear, I fell for their deception. They said if we didn't catch and burn that man immediately, the plague would spread to our village..."

However, following the words of the swindlers was also an unavoidable choice for the village chief.

Deception and incitement thrive on human anxiety.

The village chief, who was anxious about the lack of safety without a lord to protect him and the fact that an evil being was nearby, could not leave alone the suspicious man who was said to have brought a plague.

"Ugh..."

"Are you coming to your senses?"

Guided by the village chief, inside the house, there was now a man beginning to regain consciousness. 

Seeing him struggling to rise, Jean hurriedly supported him, while Vlad quietly began inspecting the belongings laid beside him.

Using his pickpocketing experience, Vlad gave a quick glance at the contents of the man's robe, which were filled with various kinds of little things.

'This guy seems suspicious too.'

Not just because of the burns, but because the contents of his all-black robe was peculiar from the start.

The small pockets inside the shabby robe were full of scorched-edge blades of grass and strange bone fragments.

"What... What is this place?"

"Are you coming to your senses?"

And what was most suspicious of all was the strange mask he was wearing.

The swindlers hanging upside down had told Vlad about it.

That peculiar mask originally belonged to the man.

"Who... are you?"

"I am a knight of Bayezid. Vlad."

Vlad held up the mask he had been carrying and showed it to the man lying down.

It perfectly matched the size and shape of his face.

Indeed, as the swindlers had said, this mask belonged to the nameless man.

"Now that I've said my name, it's your turn, right?"

"······My name is Nibelun."

Now, a small voice came out from the man who stuttered to open his mouth.

However, the words that now came from the man's mouth were ominous.

"I have come here in pursuit of death."

".....Death?"

The tightly fitted mask had a bizarre appearance, almost as if it were crafted to resemble a crow's face.

A strange beak mask atop a black robe.

The man's face, seen through the eye holes of the mask, resembled a cat.

The man who revealed he was chasing death was a beastman rarely seen in the north.

※※※※

The mansion under the moonlight looked eerie.

Once it might have had an elegant charm, but now it stood neglected, devoid of its former splendor.

In the deep silence of the forest, the mansion stood alone, basking in the moonlight.

Thud, thud-

"....Ah, I see"

A faint sound emanated from the collapsing mansion.

The cautious sound of pouring water.

It was as if someone were bathing inside the decrepit mansion.

"So you couldn't take it."

In the hall of the mansion, where even the ceiling had collapsed, revealing the black night sky, everything was in disrepair. 

However, even though everything was old, the bathtub that the woman was leaning against boasted an ivory light that matched the darkness.

"Poor soul."

The woman had the hair that started out green but ended up being pitch black.

She skillfully washed the motionless man as if she had done it many times before.

"You must be worried about what remains. I understand."

The moonlight, once hanging in the sky, began to seep into the mansion through the holes in the ceiling.

Then, the view inside the bathtub.

Instead of water, it was filled with red blood.

The man with snowy white hair bowed his head.

The man whom the woman was delicately holding onto appeared heavily wrinkled, almost like a withered corpse.

"...How much fear of dragons must you have felt to go to such lengths?"

The woman, not touching the ground, smiled warmly like a mother as she pulled the corpse's hand from the red bathtub.

Although he was now very thin, the feat he had accomplished with his hands was greater than that of anyone else.

"So, now it's time for you to rise, Your Highness."

With the woman's voice like a spell, the corpse's hands began to unfold.

Slowly emerging from the tips of the ominous fingers, like roots absorbing water, the red water in the bathtub gradually diminished with each extension of the hand.

The moonlight, reaching the sky's end, illuminated the collapsing mansion.

In that place only visible to the moon, corpses in miserable shapes were lying around without their heads.

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