Chapter 63

(63)

Though I knew how to do many things, I had no idea how to face the daughter of a man I had killed with my own hands.

Somehow, my stomach churned more than usual.

Perhaps this is why families of sinners are often wiped out—to avoid feeling this way.

“Well, I permit it. Lady Trentia, please lower your sword.”

“Your majesty?”

Lady Trentia hesitated but stepped back half a step.

I picked up the fallen crutch from the floor and handed it back to her.

On closer inspection, the place she had been sitting wasn’t just any chair but a large wheelchair with hand-operated wheels.

“Let me assist you.”

Rudi muttered in a tone that suggested he found this arrangement disagreeable.

The one-legged girl rose from her seat, leaning on the crutch in her right hand, bowed her knee lightly, and performed a small bow.

“I am Konel, daughter of Vitonic. I have no surname.”

“I already know this, but allow me to introduce myself as well: Valencius, Silentalouon, Solletarass. I have a few questions. Would you answer them, Konel?”

“I gladly respond to the will of such an esteemed person. If it’s not inconvenient, may I sit again?”

“I permit it.”

I glanced first at the burly men surrounding us, who were shuffling nervously on the ground. This was a way of signaling them what kind of conversation we were about to have, creating a tense atmosphere.

“Are you the leader of this group, tentatively called ‘The Necklace Gang’?”

“Yes, I lead them.”

“You don’t seem like an ordinary human. Are you using the power of corruption?”

It seemed he had been hoping for a denial.

But Konel didn’t back down, much like her father.

“Yes, I am using the power of the Ancients.”

At that point, Lady Trentia raised her sword, ready to strike, and Rudi’s emerald eyes lit up chillingly.

“How did you come to use the power of corruption?”

“It began when I read some runes in an underground waterway. Gradually, I lost myself. But then, after the birth of our Saint, the mental contamination cleared.”

Those markings were undoubtedly inscribed by the followers of the worm-like entity Amondion.

When the fragments that brought him into our world mostly disappeared, his influence must have evaporated.

“Afterward, as my organization grew, I discovered that sharing those runes with my followers could make them exhibit even greater power.”

“!”

I quickly examined her eyes.

Konel seemed puzzled by my sudden interest in her eyelids but ultimately relaxed and allowed me to check.

“Remarkable. Your sanity is intact…”

Though I am not a priest, it was clear enough that Konel was not under any mental corruption by the Ancients.

Lady Trentia appeared puzzled by this but maintained her dignified expression.

“Is it possible? If she controls the power of the Ancients, wouldn’t that make her a type of black magician or sorceress?”

“Perhaps… I suspect there may be a noble bastard somewhere in her ancestry. Konel, please continue.”

“In the process of growing my organization, I found that combining the liquid from a syringe found by a child in the slums with my incantations increased their power even more significantly.”

For a moment, my vision turned a bright yellow.

That syringe belonged to Lancea and I had been the one to sever her belt during our battle.

Rudi raised his spear, sharply interjecting.

“Lord Valencius, it sounds to me like she’s lying. Should we send her to the Church for interrogation?”

Konel frowned deeply.

“It’s because I don’t want to go to the Church that I’m telling you everything outright like this.”

I raised a hand lightly to stop Rudi.

“Konel, I know you’re not lying. But if what you say is true, then you’re an evil priest of the old gods, using their power of corruption to incite a series of murders in the slums. Under imperial law, such priests are automatically sentenced to death by burning. Do you have anything else to say?”

How regrettable it was that this intelligent youth, who once held such promise for the future, had chosen this path. But despite wanting to save her, it was impossible.

At that point, Konel looked at me as if hearing this for the first time.

“What exactly do you mean?”

* * *

For a moment, an awkward silence filled the room.

Lady Trentia broke the silence with a click of her tongue.

“The streets are littered with corpses whose innards have been devoured. Weren’t these crimes committed by you to increase your power?”

“The one I serve is the Lord Amon with the face of a wolf. He does not take innards as offerings.”

I met eyes with Lady Trentia.

“Lord, but isn’t ‘Amon’ considered an Ancient priest?”

“You’re right.”

Amon was regarded as a protector of warriors in northern regions, taking honorably fallen warriors to his realm, causing minimal concern from the Church.

He hadn’t crossed into the human world, so he hadn’t caused much harm to humanity yet.

Rudi asked me.

“Your Majesty, if what she says is true, what then were those things we encountered?”

I recalled that there had been more glowing eyes in the darkness than I’d initially thought.

“If an one-legged girl can gain knowledge of the ancients’ secrets, others likely could too. That adds another valid reason we need to truly cleanse the slums.”

Sensing a change in the atmosphere around Rudi and Lady Trentia, Konel spoke with a tone that seemed almost pleading.

“I don’t traffic in medicine. I avoid anything dangerous associated with nobles. I don’t take contract killing jobs, and I have no intention of going against imperial law outside of the slums.”

Lady Trentia sternly replied,

“Still, it’s a fact that you’ve led a group here, killing many people, isn’t it?”

“Do you honestly believe, honorable knight, that this would have happened had I not existed?”

Lady Trentia seemed slightly uncomfortable but stepped back a half-step.

I understood her objection.

The central figure is indeed important, but the era and circumstances create that central figure.

With people flooding into the slums and ancient knowledge spreading, it would be more peculiar if no street battles had occurred, especially with winter approaching.

“I have consolidated the guard teams from the red-light district, kept organizations from getting involved in drugs, and introduced job opportunities to refugees driven out by bad harvests in the east and the Orcs in the west. There have been conflicts with other organizations due to drug-related issues. That’s all.”

Konel paused for a moment before continuing.

“Prince Valencius, do I deserve death for what I have done?”

The sharpness in her almond-shaped eyes remained unwavering.

I couldn’t voice my words easily.

I wondered how much longer she could grow, whether she might eventually leave the slums.

And I felt considerable guilt for the fact that she was essentially taking over the public works that should have been handled by the royal family.

“Destroy the syringes. It’s a genuinely dangerous item. If you do this, then I will release you.”

Still, this point was one that must be addressed clearly.

After pondering for a moment, Konel pulled out a box from beneath her wheelchair and opened it.

Inside were three large syringes.

That was the exact quantity.

“Everything I possess is here.”

It matched.

“Once someone has used the syringe even once, they cannot be controlled. I recommend you exterminate them all.”

I placed the syringes on the floor, crushed them with the heel of my boot, and completely incinerated them until neither the needles nor the fluids left any trace.

An erosion-inducing substance made from royal spine fluid—such a liquid must not see the light of day or be recorded anywhere.

“Lord Amon gave them the instincts to follow a leader. But since your majesty showed such concern over this, I will take heed.”

She responded with a smug smile.

I signaled to Rudi and Lady Trentia and turned back toward the window.

“Be careful. In the Empire, responsibility lies solely with the results. If you cannot control them, you will have to bear the consequences, Konel.”

“Thank you for your advice, your highness.”

Konel rose from her wheelchair and bowed her head.

* * *

In the early winter evening, as the moon began to rise over the ramshackle buildings of the slums, Gedoro, a ten-leader originating from the red-light district and one of Konel’s subordinates, felt a strange heat once again as night fell.

For several evenings now, his body had been twitching uncontrollably, making it nearly unbearable.

He started provocations in territories of other gangs and trained furiously with his comrades, yet the agitation remained.

After careful thought, he realized it had been since Konel stopped giving them injections before each prayer session.

Originally, reciting chants alone had been enough to surge their strength, but now, without the injection, they felt something was missing.

After talking with the subordinates, they realized everyone else felt the same.

Finally, at the evening prayer session, he dared to bring it up.

“Leader, what happened a few days ago when we all passed out? Was our supply of syringes somehow stolen?”

“Perhaps they were taken away?”

Even after the evening prayer, their thirst was not quenched.

Even the other ten-leaders who followed Konel closely seemed to feel the same way. Their eyes confirmed it.

This strange thirst was evident in their gazes.

“The syringes are dangerous, so we are done with them.”

Konel firmly said.

Our organization will not deal in drugs or pickpocketing.

Her tone was resolute and left no room for negotiation.

In that instant, Gedoro felt a swelling sensation rise in his chest.

“Leader, how can you decide this without discussing it with us?”

“Though the leader herself doesn’t fight, we have been fighting well because of the injection. How can you just suddenly stop giving it to us?”

“My two younger brothers died yesterday!”

The burly men, including Gedoro himself, leaped to their feet abruptly.

“Who does she think she is, being a leader when she doesn’t even have working legs?”

“Who needs a girl from the slums to be our leader?”

“Now that I know about the chants, I don’t need her!”

“I need the injection! I need it! I need it!”

Gedoro screamed, the heat inside him rising uncontrollably.

At that exact moment:

Guwrrl!

Papapapapapap!

An unholy sound emerged from within the room.

Blue and purple tentacles burst out from the men’s eyes, noses, and mouths, writhing wildly.

Konel looked towards the moon shining outside.

“Ah.”

It was a full moon, when mana was at its peak.

“Infected by another ancient power, I see.”

It had only been less than a month since he had distributed the injections.

“Give it here!”

The men, now with tentacles for hands, charged forward, flailing wildly.

Even their necks, wrists, and abdominal hair had turned into wriggling tentacles.

Sitting still in her wheeled chair, Konel muttered to herself,

“I knew this would happen.”

Outside the window, agile figures leapt into the room.

They were the special assassination team she had nurtured separately, wary of betrayal from the ten-leaders.

It was a godsend decision that she had not injected the assassin team, for they would have bulked up unnaturally from the injections, compromising their swift movements.

“Ahah!”

“Groaaaaahh!”

Though they were outnumbered in brute force, they were fully armed and prepared for fierce combat.

In contrast, Gedoro and the other ten-leaders had removed their weapons for the evening prayer.

“AAARRRRRGGHHH!”

Gedoro grabbed a member of the assassin team attempting to stab him in the neck with all seven of his tentacle-fingers, crushing the face into a pulp.

He then slammed the body into the floor, tearing it into six pieces, but immediately multiple daggers pierced his knees, shoulders, and neck.

Thud!

Gedoro’s massive body crashed to the ground.

“Ughh!”

Groaning, the wheeled chair approached him.

A girl with only one leg was looking down at him.

“Spare, Lady Konel, please spare me!”

He begged for his life from the girl with the missing limb.

Konel decisively shook her head.

Amon does not tolerate betrayal.

“No.”

Pfth!

The cane she had sharpened like a spear pierced straight through one of Gedoro’s tentacle-eyes, penetrating deep into his skull.

At that moment, the screams from below grew audible.

One of her assassin team members called out from the window,

“Lord Konel, all those who were injected with the substance have gone berserk!”

“Take cover and subdue them with ranged weapons. Do not leave survivors.”

“Understood.”

Calmly directing her assassination team, she eliminated the battle squad waiting on the first floor.

Gradually, as the suppression neared its conclusion, from the alleyway, a lone figure holding a torch approached in a hurry.

Soon after, hundreds of footsteps could be heard.

“Could it be…!”

Konel glanced at the defeated members already at her feet.

She had anticipated this when she heard the story about them causing trouble in another gang’s territory.

There was no choice.

By gathering them all in one place, the purge could be conducted with the least loss of life.

But a purge was ultimately self-destruction.

During war, it was all the worse.

In the darkness, hundreds of flaming torches surged like waves.