Chapter 130

As the evening glow shed its final red light, the people on the streets hurried their steps home.

“Constable Erestor. I’ve locked on to the position.”

“Constable Chesrin. I’ve locked on to the position.”

The boats that had been coming in and out of the canal all day gathered towards the dock, and the carriages loaded with flour headed towards the last market they needed to go to today.

“Sister. They’re moving. They’re also preparing to disembark.”

“Maintain distance. If you’re careless, you’ll be corrupted and turn into a monster.”

The market at this time, devoid of people, felt eerie.

“Valen. I’ve locked on to their position. Truly, you know how to effectively utilize high-level personnel like me. If you let them purify everything without handing over research samples, this time I’ll really roast them.”

“Please don’t roast Lord Valen!”

The stalls were empty, and the shops closed, with only the hollow sound of the wind echoing through the once-rambunctious alleys.

The awkwardness and peculiarity of an originally bustling place being empty felt similar to the strange feeling of walking alone in the academy when it was devoid of people early in the morning.

The figure in the red mask entered deeper into the alley with Valenciaunos and a leader of the sword users.

All three wore the gray robes favored by monks and had triangular hoods drawn over their heads.

“Do we need to go further?”

“We’re almost there.”

Valenciaunos changed his gaze vertically and subtly emanated the energy of incantation.

The sword user leader stiffened and looked at him.

A dizzying sensation, as if razor blades were pressed all over his body.

This anxiety, feeling like prey before a beast or a human before a deity, was difficult to adapt to.

‘What about my sister?’

The figure in the red mask was managing to hold up well against this pressure.

That was because she already subconsciously thought of Valenciaunos as something other than human.

Feeling the unease of the sword user leader, Valenciaunos softened his presence a bit more.

It was sufficient for the Infiltrators to sense it.

He too gradually began to feel the energy of the Infiltrators.

As if a report of disembarkation was indeed true, they were getting closer little by little.

The awkward and unpleasant sensation felt like watching thousands of centipedes or spiders writhing together, as if suddenly my fingers had grown sixfold.

It clearly meant that they were life forms with which we could not coexist.

‘Why do they keep crawling into this world? We cannot live alongside you.’

Valenciaunos pulled his hood down even further and slightly lowered his head.

Around him, several large and menacing figures began to appear.

A woman openly displaying a dagger and a copper whip leaned against a wall, smoking tobacco.

A group of men clad in black suits gathered, among them several others also wearing hoods.

Valenciaunos internally resolved that the moment this operation succeeded, he would deal with the councilman who chose this street as his voting district.

If the councilman were a proper person, his jurisdiction could never have fallen into such disarray.

‘I’ll have to use the wyvern interrogation method.’

Though it might not be accurate to call it an interrogation method, he had made up his mind nonetheless.

“Flour has arrived. Please check it.”

A man wearing a yellow hood shouted.

The carriages had entered the alley and were unloading large wooden barrels.

About five different stamps were visible, indicating the types and quality of the tobacco.

The gathered middlemen each proved their identities with codes or paper cards and began trading.

The men in yellow hoods did not allow anyone to approach the flour barrels if there was even a slight issue with the codes or cards.

“Please return.”

“No, I’m sure!”

“……”

“Ah, I understand! Get the knife in there.”

Some were sent away, but many others had the opportunity to buy goods from the men in yellow hoods.

Tobacco tightly packed in the flour barrels began to reveal themselves one by one.

“This is the quantity I reserved!”

“There’s no such thing!”

On one side, voices raised as a scuffle broke out, and amid it all, a barrel tipped over, spilling disguise flour.

Grains were scarce.

For Valenciaunos, who had moved flour with the Northern Duke, it was a moment of exasperation.

While the nobles enjoyed leisurely outings in the blossoming spring, the commoners were starving, almost living off a handful of barley.

* * *

“It’s the red mask. I ordered twenty barrels of the finest quality, is that right?”

The figure in the red mask approached the man in the yellow hood and asked directly.

“Ah. Welcome. I’ve heard about you. This shipment is for Miss Red Mask.”

He treated the red mask unusually politely.

Valenciaunos considered them to be the hands of their Infiltrators’ Sect.

Since they must have sensed his presence, it was reasonable to think they would view him as an ally.

“Red Mask, that… from the red-light district…?”

“A big player has joined in.”

“I heard that the bandit prince Valenciaunos is backing you.”

The middlemen dealing with tobacco either uttered subdued sounds of despair or had gleams in their eyes, thinking of expanding their businesses.

The man in the yellow hood gestured in front of the wooden barrels.

“This is the shipment. There’s still time before the curfew, so we will help you move it.”

“Then I am grateful. I brought a friend with me, who also wants to join in. Is it possible to meet those people?”

The red mask introduced Valenciaunos with a refined tone.

The man in the yellow hood glanced inside Valencianus’s hood.

“Ah! …Yes. They are over there.”

Valenciaunos looked where the hooded man was politely pointing.

Amid the lined-up carriages stood a large two-wheeled carriage, within which several men dressed in dark robes were visible.

Valenciaunos raised the energy of incantation a bit more and approached slowly.

The carriage door opened, revealing figures wearing high, flat hoods.

He thought he heard a laugh of “aha ha ha.”

‘One, two, three,… four. There are four counting the unmounted coachman.’

While their faces were not visible beneath the hoods, Valenciaunos could tell they were smiling warmly.

The coachman also stole a glance at him with a small mirror, smiling contentedly.

As if proud of how he had survived.

‘They are the ones that must have their blood slowly drawn and have heated iron gloves fitted onto each finger.’

Ten steps.

‘Are you happy to see me?’

Seven steps.

‘I’m glad to see you too.’

Five steps.

‘Because I can save you all.’

Three steps.

‘You filthy insects.’

Valenciaunos kindly extended his left hand.

The Infiltrators were all over a head taller than the average person, and their hoods rose high in a rectangular manner.

The man standing in the middle extended his hand hidden beneath his wide sleeves.

Jaw.

At the moment Valenciaunos clasped the hand, he trembled with a terrible feeling of disgust.

If it had been covered with scales or slime, he might have accepted it, but the creature’s hand was almost indistinguishable from a human’s except for some slight wrinkles.

The Infiltrator spoke, the darkness draping beneath the hood rippling.

“Nice to meet you.”

It was a voice that resonated directly in his soul.

Valenciaunos replied respectfully.

“Welcome.”

With eyes split vertically glinting.

“And do take care.”

He shouted, looking up at the sky.

“Sharp, piercing flames.”

Four flames shot into the sky, indicating there were four Infiltrators.

“What!”

The Infiltrator attempted to withdraw his hand frantically, but Valenciaunos held firm, enveloping his entire left hand in scales.

“Sticky, clinging flames!”

He grinned sadistically as flames erupted from his entire body.

Flames consumed the hood, revealing platinum hair and golden pupils split vertically.

Ash floated in the air as the white uniform adorned with a red sash displayed its exquisite form.

Inside the Infiltrators’ hoods, chaos erupted with panic and horror.

“You…!”

The golden energy of incantation spread like mist, catching fire on the hand they had clasped, refusing to be extinguished.

The Infiltrator’s robe caught fire and blazed fiercely.

Seeing him writhing in agony, Valenciaunos drew his sword with an ecstatic shout.

Swish-.

The exquisite sword ‘Black Tear’ cried out, thirsty for the blood and tears of criminals.

Crash!

He drove the sword straight into the Infiltrator’s body.

Screech-!

The sharp sound of a whistle rang out.

It was a short whistle used by constables.

La-.

The polite ‘la’ note echoed.

It was the sound of trumpets used by paladins.

Woo-oo-ooong-!

On top of that, the sound of the knights’ horn resonated, causing the middlemen of the tobacco trade to panic, and the Infiltrators realized that all this had been a trap.

“Valenciaunos!”

The Infiltrator, stabbed and aflame, called out his name.

Just that was a powerful curse capable of tearing an opponent apart.

Valenciaunos was unaffected by the curse thanks to the Rite of Valence, so he calmly pulled the sword out of the Infiltrator’s body.

“Do you dare to call the Duke’s name recklessly, you filthy scum even less than a mouse?”

While treating them as they deserved.

“Did you prepare all this?”

The other Infiltrator standing beside him asked.

“No. You prepared all this.”

“!”

“The moment you joined forces with those planning to turn all the people in the world into mere meals, you were destined to burn and perish in agony.”

There may be no correct answer in this world, but there are wrong answers.

Corruption is always a wrong answer, no matter the circumstances.

At least that was how Valenciaunos thought.

“Everything that happens from now on is all your fault.”

The Infiltrator shouted a threat, but he sincerely raised his hand to answer.

“Speak loudly, you lesser beings.”

“I’ll turn this damn city into a living hell!”

* * *

What began first was the fight between the smugglers and the constables.

The moment Valenciaunos cast fire magic toward the sky, they sensed something was wrong, though they did not know what, and scattered to escape like cockroaches.

However, the knight, Barbatos, who commanded the Iron Knight Order and was also the Chief of Police, was a man with extraordinary strategy as well as swordsmanship.

“There will be a checkpoint!”

“Move aside!”

“I said there will be a checkpoint!”

Unlike usual, constables armed with halberds were deployed around the streets with little time left before curfew.

They suffered from chronic manpower shortages, but each was an expert who had dealt with many criminals, able to tell just by a person’s gaze and gait whether they had something suspicious about them.

So, when large, tattooed men and coat-clad sword fighters swarmed out, they did not hesitate to swing their halberds.

Thud!

“Ack!”

Thud!

“I surrender!”

Thud!

“I said I surrender!”

The halberd was a weapon capable of piercing through plate armor until the magic circle was engraved.

With three sword user constables striking down from the front and both sides in that narrow space, the smugglers, no matter how many there were, could not hold out.

Barbatos expressed a strong determination to wipe out a group of criminals this time, and the Chief of Police gladly received that will.

That was the reason why the smugglers were having their heads smashed in, whether they gathered en masse or used the hidden alleys.

Even if by chance one of them managed to break through.

“World.”

In the empty street just before curfew, only one looked prominent.

Beep-!

Valenciaunos smiled contentedly as he heard the sharp sound of the whistle.

Barbatos would not know, but the more he smashed the middlemen, the larger the share Red Mask would have afterward.

He was expanding the pie of the red-light district figure he hated most with his own hands.

The reason he had such useless thoughts in front of the Infiltrators was simple.

“World.”

It was because if he didn’t indulge in such useless thoughts, he felt like he would just collapse.

The Infiltrator standing to the left of the burning one suddenly mutated.

GooOOOOO-.

The skinny figure wearing the hood vanished, and a huge monster, over three meters tall, clad in white bone armor, stood there.

The armor looked thick and sturdy, but there were large cracks and holes everywhere, through which blue and purple tentacles thicker than Valenciaunos’s forearm burst out and writhed.

Particularly, a thick tentacle sprouted from the top of its head, resembling it wore an excessively tall triangular hat.

“I’m going crazy.”

Valenciaunos dusted off the wood shavings from the carriage and looked at the remaining three.

One was still mounted on the carriage, one seemed cautious as it took time to mutate, and the burning one was leaning against the wall.

Of course, it could still emanate psychic waves and toy with an average sword user, but the true power of the Infiltrators came out when they mutated.

‘The mutated one is not rushing to attack either. Looking out for his companion shows he definitely has rationality.’

Valenciaunos laughed sadistically, somewhat like his sister.

‘Then let’s engage in psychological warfare!’

Since he was fighting, he had to win, and the worse and more cowardly side usually survived.

‘Target the injured first.’