Chapter 73

#73. The Plague of the North (2)

Astra, former head of Sigma, the intelligence division of the Empire.

Officially reported as purged, but in reality, he was still alive.

Somewhere in the barren lands of the North.

‘I’ll definitely achieve results!’

Of course, his current situation was somewhat unfortunate.

But there was nothing he could say about it.

Ever since the failed assassination attempt on the Duke of the Northern Duchy up to Mary’s blessing and the establishment of the Lenslet Order, someone had to take responsibility for all this.

‘I will repay Your Majesty’s grace!’

If judged solely by the weight of responsibility, honestly, he should’ve been executed for treason, and his family disgraced—nothing strange about that at all.

However, His Majesty the Crown Prince, in his mercy, merely exiled him secretly to a remote area. His family suffered no harm whatsoever.

‘For a thousand years of the royal family and the empire!’

It was only natural for a loyal servant of the empire to feel indebted.

“Even if they’re the Duke of the North, they can’t control all of the North. We’ll find every crack and drive in!”

Astra moved around in the outskirts of the Northern Duchy, where the duke’s influence was relatively weak.

From there, he poured all his efforts into rebuilding Sigma’s shattered network.

Avoiding the inspectors and evading the locals who glared suspiciously at any outsider, step by slow step…

“A message from the center!?”

Then came an opportunity sooner than expected.

“Archbishop Theresa is coming herself!? To this northern part of the Magic Realm? And… she’s even meeting with the black wizards of the Demon Den?! That crazy woman?!”

And it was massive news indeed.

* * *

Sometime later.

In a secluded corner of the Magic Realm, another threatening meeting took place concerning the North.

An assembly so secret that even the high knights of the North, the grand witch of the North, and the Duke himself were unaware of it.

“Truly a cursed land. A place reeking of human folly and divine authority.”

Clad in pure white silk robes embroidered with gold threads, Archbishop Theresa observed the barrier conjured by the black wizards.

She kept waving her hand as if warding off foul odors.

“And quite the fitting group for such a cursed land.”

Her gaze turned toward a distant cluster cloaked in dark robes.

“Take it as a compliment, zealot.”

The black-robed figures, swathed in ash-gray bandages, stared at Theresa with eerie green glows from their eyes.

“Zealot? Hah! I’ll take it as a compliment too!”

Even in her madness, some semblance of situational awareness remained.

This was deep within the heart of the Magic Realm, right before the Demon Den.

Yet, Theresa dealt with the black wizards surprisingly flexibly.

Phew…

Relieved, Astra, who was guiding her, let out a long sigh inside.

‘Why would someone of Archbishop status be here?’

Pushing aside the lingering questions in his mind, he decided to focus on his own tasks.

“Hahaha… Everyone’s busy, so why don’t we get straight to business?”

Mediating between the black wizards of the Demon Den and the Archbishop of the Imperial Church.

“Didn’t you already convey the matter to me, Isaac?”

Responded Isaac, the representative of the Demon Den, to Astra’s words.

“We’re ready. Once we receive that, we can start immediately.”

“W-was that the case? But just in case there was a miscommunication, we should confirm properly…”

“There won’t be any mistakes.”

This time, Archbishop Theresa cut off Astra’s words.

“Receive it.”

With that, she gestured behind her.

The senior priests of the church who accompanied her placed something in front of the black wizards.

A coffin.

“To think the day has come to put this headache to proper use.”

Theresa gazed at the coffin placed before her and continued with a peculiar tone.

“The Lord is truly merciful. Even those who have forsaken Him, these cursed beings, are given such an opportunity for salvation.”

Her gaze shifted between the coffin and the black wizards.

“……”

Isaac also alternated his gaze between the coffin and the priests of the Imperial Church who brought it.

Then he slowly spoke.

“You surpass even us.”

The reason the Archbishop herself made the journey was because of what was inside that coffin.

Within the Church, the only person capable of restraining the being inside the coffin was the Archbishop.

“To face the abyss, one must sometimes become deeper than the abyss itself.”

Theresa responded with a sardonic smile, seemingly not minding the words Isaac had just spoken.

“With this, the deal is done. I hope it succeeds.”

She and the senior priests of the Church prepared to leave hastily, clearly wanting to spend as little time as possible in this place.

Pfft Pfft Psst

The black wizards, seemingly in agreement, quickly dismantled the concealment barrier they had erected.

“Ah!”

Just then, Theresa suddenly turned her head as if remembering something.

“While we may be like this, why do you black wizards hate Lenslet so much?”

“Gratitude and vengeance must always be repaid. It’s the creed of northerners.”

“Why is that?”

“We’ve lived for generations in the Magic Realm of the North. Longer than witches.”

“So you consider yourselves northerners too?”

“It’s not a wrong statement.”

“There seems to have been some grudge with Lenslet then?”

“More precisely, a debt owed to the first Duke Rune Lenslet and the disciple of the woman inside that coffin.”

Isaac stopped speaking there. He saw no reason to elaborate further.

“Hmm… Is that so? I get the gist of it.”

Hearing Isaac’s words, Theresa sneered.

“But will you be alright? If Lenslet and the witches fall, your turn might come next.”

A warning or concern, it was unclear, emerged from the lips of the highest-ranking cleric.

“Indeed, will it?”

Isaac retaliated with a mocking laugh.

“Where else will you find people better suited to handle dirty work? The royal family, nobles, and even the Church often need us. Just like now.”

The highest-ranked black wizard’s gaze fell upon the coffin brought by the Imperial Church.

“…Still doesn’t sit well with me.”

Theresa furrowed her brows deeply.

Then, turning her back completely, she quickly distanced herself.

Astra hurriedly followed after her retreating figure.

* * *

The Imperial Palace.

“The deal in the Magic Realm went smoothly,” reported the current head of Sigma, Richard.

“Hmm.”

Prince Khanbraman nodded solemnly upon hearing the report.

“Poor Archbishop, she worked hard.”

“Yes, thanks to Your Highness’s significant political concessions.”

At Richard’s words, Khanbraman frowned as if tasting bitter medicine.

“To canonize them… that Entaire Bishop…”

The name of the recently active Bishop Company leader was mentioned by the Crown Prince.

“Power-hungry fools… Though, it’s none of my business really.”

The Entaire Bishop, who returned from the North, seemed to have had some sort of epiphany. Suddenly, he started hiring beggars, giving them work, food, and shelter.

He began openly forming alliances with the aristocracy.

Naturally, the royal family tried to counterbalance this growing power of Entaire Bishop.

“Who knows who’s more corrupt?”

But then, the Church intervened.

Using the substantial donation handed over by Bishop Company and the “charity” performed by Entaire as justification, the Church pressured the royal family.

“If we pressure Entaire now, what will happen?”

“It won’t bode well for public sentiment. Plus, it ties into our dealings with the Church.”

No matter how insignificant beggars may seem, their numbers cannot be ignored. When numbers gather, they form public opinion. Unified public opinion becomes the will of the people.

And currently, the organization best at handling this popular sentiment within the empire was none other than the Church.

“At a time when we should be uniting forces…”

Clearly, this was the Church’s maneuver to use this opportunity to check the royal family.

“Still, Entaire’s actions are too blatant. He usually played along with Havana’s moderate approach, didn’t he… Did he fight with his wife? Or did he stumble upon some leverage while in the North?”

“Wasn’t it Your Highness who received many treasures from him?”

“How long has this merchant been playing both sides?”

“…Forgive me.”

“Initially, those bribes were simply asking us to ignore the backlash from artisans and guilds.”

Khanbraman was most concerned about Bishop Entaire these days.

Especially considering Entaire’s solo trip to the North.

“Could it be… he caught on?”

The Crown Prince’s words carried meaning that Richard fully understood, so he maintained silence.

“Can we not eliminate Entaire? Perhaps through assassination?”

“We’ve attempted it several times already… but failed.”

“Failed, huh?”

“The mercenaries guarding Entaire are top-notch.”

“Have we identified them?”

“A mercenary band led by a captain named Phil. Although they disguised themselves, they couldn’t completely hide their usual habits. They’re suspected to be Mercenary King Carpe and the Red Wolves.”

“Tch… What did that guy do this time…?”

The sound of the Crown Prince clicking his tongue echoed in the office for a long while.

“The North, we must resolve the North. Only then can we address Entaire, the Church, the aristocracy, and the alliance.”

After the prolonged tongue-clicking ceased, Richard spoke.

“So that’s why we’ve been so actively plotting, isn’t it? Though our strategy of selling cheap porcelain to undermine the North’s economy failed.”

“This time, it will definitely succeed, Your Highness.”

“Wasn’t that what you said last time? Remember Astral, exiled to the Magic Realm after that famine plot?”

“Even Professor Arad’s expertise in healing won’t be able to handle this plague.”

“Are you aware, sir? Professor Arad is reputed to be quite skilled in healing arts.”

“The plague we’ve prepared this time is no ordinary one. It’s infused with black magic.”

Whereas the previous scheme orchestrated by Sigma involved a great famine, this time it was a large-scale plague—utilizing black magic.

“A plague infused with black magic cannot be resolved by conventional healing methods. It can only be broken by the same black magic or shamanistic rituals.”

“But aren’t there witches in the North? Who are better at black magic and shamanism than anyone else.”

“Yes, which is why we sought the Church’s help this time. The entity in that coffin will render the witches powerless. Being the source of the curse binding all witches, its presence will ensure that.”

“Will this truly succeed? Honestly, I don’t trust it”.

Despite Richard’s confidence, Khanbraman remained unconvinced.

‘His Highness wishes for this plan to fail!’

Richard instantly grasped the Crown Prince’s inner thoughts.

‘Precisely, he seeks only half-success.’

To cause great damage to the North without letting things unfold exactly as the Church intends.

‘The intention is to reclaim dominance from the Church.’

Both the royal family and the Church are the same!

Richard sighed inwardly.

“Your Highness, what will you do if this fails again?”

Slightly disappointed, Richard cautiously questioned his master.

“I shall lament. Should this plan fail, the constraints that bind the witches will lose their effectiveness.”

Khanbraman answered with an indifferent attitude.

“In that case, the North’s magic will grow faster than ever before. Hmm… Just thinking about it is disheartening.”

He didn’t appear genuinely disheartened by the prospect.

“And we’ll seek another method.”

Given the current state where all plots against the North have failed, and the North’s growth has begun in earnest,

“Should that other method fail, we’ll find yet another one.”

Khanbraman had abandoned his earlier impatient demeanor.

“The black wizards of the Demon Den, the legendary monsters of the Magic Realm, the Orcs of the Far North, the Druid barbarians of the Manus Mountains… There are still plenty of options.”

The calm eyes of the Crown Prince still burned with fire.

“If all else fails, I’ll mobilize the entire army, even if it means fracturing the empire.”

A spark of obsession and madness.

“The North must be ours at all costs.”

He would never give up.

“!!”

Seeing such determination in his prince, Richard erased the disappointment he’d harbored moments ago.

“By the way, what is young Julian up to lately?”

Suddenly, Khanbraman inquired about his son Julian.

Smart, compassionate, and above all, possessing the strongest lineage of blue blood.

But far too kind and gentle for the tumultuous times of today—an unsuitable royal.

“He’s recently developed an interest in painting.”