Chapter 78

78.

By piecing together the scattered information from Max, we quickly determined the location of the Archivist Room of the Intelligence Chief.

The place was a small village between the southern town of Barhen and the capital. Upon checking the map, it appeared to be a rather ordinary place with no standout features. The distance was about half a day’s ride on horseback.

‘They say it’s best to pull out a stubborn horn while it’s hot.’

Verifying Max’s information and going through the stored records would take some time. We needed to move immediately.

As I wiped my blood-stained hands with the cloth Charles respectfully offered, I opened my mouth.

“Charles. Can you restore him?”

“It’s possible to bring him up to the level where he can be used once more.”

“Then fix him. I’ll go look for the archive in the meantime.”

“Do you plan to keep him alive?”

“We need to follow the leads. Until then, keep him alive.”

“Hah…hahaha.”

I turned my head at the sound of a sickly laugh, meeting Max’s unfocused gaze.

Max’s condition was far from good. Charles, who was adept not only in poisons but also in remedies, had apparently achieved a certain level of mastery in this field. While complete recovery, as seen in the Bright Sect, was impossible, he claimed to have techniques through special concoctions to forcibly maintain life.

As a result, Max would have to endure a long period of physical therapy in a state where he was neither fully alive nor dead, unable to die.

Struggling to focus his eyes, Max blinked repeatedly and spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Guardian…Guards committing such deeds. Aren’t you ashamed?”

His trembling lips curled upward.

There was no doubt he was in considerable pain, yet he glared at me with an unfocused gaze as if determined to say these words no matter what.

“Does the Empress even know of your deeds? Cough. Haha… That her husband, a Guardian Knight, is a bloodthirsty demon!”

“Shut your mouth.”

Andre’s calm response brought Max’s focus back.

“Hah! Hahaha! It’s laughable to see how arrogant you’ve become just because you have a duke’s backing. Remember your lowly past, Andre! Remember the days you slept in filth, ate dirt, and vomited like a lunatic just to survive each day! That’s the root of you and those who follow you!”

Andre clenched his fists upon being provoked by Max. Seeing the readiness to strike, I raised my hand to stop him.

“Don’t engage. There’s no benefit in responding to empty provocations.”

“…Forgive me. I lost my composure thinking of the fallen comrades he disrespected.”

Andre took a deep breath and stepped back. With a smirk, Max turned his gaze toward me.

The glint in his eyes suggested he wanted to vent his frustrations before he died.

That seemed to be his mentality as he freely spoke without hesitation.

“Looking at your shameless face… I can see your young wife’s true nature too. People without parents always end up the same…”

Not this guy.

Thud!

Before I knew it, my fist had struck his face.

Bound to his chair, Max took the full impact and his head jerked back. A white tooth flew into the dim basement light, glistening briefly.

“Hmph…”

I had instinctively held back my power just before the punch landed. The motion was large, but the impact wasn’t strong.

As I retracted my arm, Charles checked Max’s condition, then inserted a few needles from his robe, finishing his actions promptly.

“He’s unconscious.”

“Tch.”

I accepted another clean cloth offered by her and wiped the blood off my knuckles.

Despite being subjected to physical therapy, Max still had the energy to speak—a sign of his remarkably long life force.

Based on appearances, Max was undoubtedly a regular person unable to manipulate mana. Yet, his resilience seemed comparable to that of a knight-born mana wielder.

“So, even a regular from the intelligence department has this kind of stamina.”

Among all the shadowy figures we’ve encountered so far, he was unmatched.

According to Charles, during his capture, Max had broken one of his legs from the shock of being thrown out of a carriage and yet managed to break through our encirclement.

Even factoring in the lower skill level of the encircling personnel, Max was undoubtedly insane.

“Extract as much as possible, then dispose of him quickly.”

“Understood.”

Charles bowed deeply and quickly began emergency measures on Max. Watching her busy hands applying acupuncture, I turned my head.

Andre, who was looking at me with a subtle expression, had closed his mouth.

Seeing me that way… He should have nothing to say. I can tolerate insults about myself, but not about my wife.

“Considering the distance, there isn’t much time. There must be plenty of documents, so let’s move right away.”

“…Yes. I’ll go prepare the horses.”

Giving an appropriate excuse to Iris and Alberto about patrolling the Outer Wall, Andre and I hastened to the south.

*

The village where the Intelligence Chief’s Archive Room was hidden looked truly ordinary at first glance.

I roughly counted the number of houses with my eyes. The village was approximately the size where around 200 people lived.

Since this wasn’t something we could handle outright, we disguised ourselves as mercenaries doing rounds for a mission before entering the village.

As we entered, several gazes converged on us, the mounted strangers.

Fortunately, the villagers briefly eyed us with curiosity, but upon seeing the sword at our waist and the mercenary badge, they lost interest.

Thus, without much trouble, we made it to the center of the village.

We knocked on the door of the small church adorned with the emblem of the Sun.

Knock. Knock.

“Is anyone there?”

Creak—

The large door opened slightly, revealing an elderly man in the gap.

He wore a plain black religious robe without any patterns. Although he wasn’t in the distinctive white vestment of the Bright Sect priests, he had a necklace with a seven-pointed star.

‘This isn’t an apprentice priest but a regular priest. This old man is the manager.’

At first glance, he seemed like an ordinary priest of the Bright Sect.

Indeed, the moment our eyes met, he startled momentarily but then calmed himself by making the sign of the faith just as any ordinary priest we’d seen before would.

Let’s test him lightly.

As I made the sign of the faith in response, the old man seemed relieved and began.

“Welcome. Have you come to offer prayers for your journey?”

“We have an important mission. We’ve come to receive guidance before our departure.”

“Ho ho. You’ve come at a good time. The prayer session has just ended, so it’s fairly quiet now. Come in.”

As we followed the old man into the church, the interior was indeed quiet and dim, like a mouse had died.

On either side of long rows of seats, at the end of the carpet stretching across them, the altar basked under the light, exuding a somewhat sacred presence.

“I am Mevern. As you can see, I’m a priest running this small church.”

“I am Cain, and this is Andre. We are wandering mercenaries.”

After a brief exchange of names at the altar with small candles lit,

Mevern opened a thick book. Kneeling reverently before it with his hands together, his serene prayer echoed solemnly throughout the chapel.

After a simple prayer,

I mentioned another request to Mevern, who was tidying up the altar.

“Father Mevern, we would also like to access the underground library.”

“…Why are you looking for the underground library?”

Suspicion crept into Mevern’s eyes.

The church’s underground library contained not only records of the sect but also of the Dark Cultists. Naturally, due to the sensitive nature of the content, such records were forbidden from being viewed by regular people or believers.

Some repositories even included rare and valuable resources, making them frequent targets of thefts. Therefore, most people grew alert when the underground library was mentioned.

“We have permission from the Earl of Kendler. It’s related to our mission.”

Though the permission came with some use of force, we had it nonetheless.

Upon hearing about the Earl of Kendler, Mevern quickly dropped his suspicious gaze.

“Precious guests have arrived. Please follow me.”

Following Mevern past the chapel into the Audience Chamber, he lit a small candlestick and then approached a small locked door.

Click.

As the sealed door opened, a dark staircase appeared.

“This small church also occasionally gets visits from thieves from outside. Thanks to the sturdy lock provided by the sect, such occurrences have significantly decreased recently.”

While lighting each candle holder on the wall, Mevern shook his head wearily.

As we slowly descended the staircase, we exchanged casual small talk about the world. The moment I felt his guard had completely dropped, I subtly raised the question.

“Father Mevern, how did you come to know the Earl of Kendler?”

I gently pressed the elderly man, observing his expression and gestures. Andre, sensing something was off, slipped his hand into his cloak.

He froze upon hearing the question.

Ah, you’re talking about Earl Kendler, are you?”

After pausing momentarily, he resumed descending the staircase.

“Originally, this church was located on the outskirts of the village. I was running it there, but one day Earl Kendler came and demolished a vacant house in the center of the village, then built a new church on its site.”

The old man laughed heartily, recounting what seemed to be a completely innocent story.

“Since then, he has occasionally sent sponsorship funds and inspected the church, helping with its operations in many ways. He says if the church falls, he wouldn’t have the face to pray to the Goddess, truly a pious man, isn’t he?”

Nodding appropriately in response to Mevern’s question, I relaxed my tension.

‘Max’s man? No, this is a genuine priest of the sect.’

Considering Max’s fervent devotion to the Bright Sect and the shabby condition of the church, Mevern’s evaluation of being a fiery nobleman probably fits only partly.

Making a few more guesses:

Max likely used the church relocation as a ruse to doubly conceal the Intelligence Chief’s archive.

Who would have guessed that below the library, there was another hidden archive containing the confidential documents of the Central Intelligence Chief?

In reality, the church built over the archive brilliantly served its concealment function.

Even I, and even Black Raven, didn’t suspect such a place was hidden here. If I hadn’t attempted to extract information from Max through physical therapy, we would have been wandering around aimlessly for quite a while or never found it.

“I’ll go up to prepare for the evening prayer and some food. If you need anything, just call out. You can take your time reviewing the materials.”

After lighting the remaining candles in the underground library, Mevern handed me the candlestick and ascended the staircase.

The underground library was appropriately small for the church’s size.

The five bookshelves covered with books, a lone desk and chair, all bore an accumulation of dust from being long-neglected.

Thud.

As we strolled around the underground library checking things out, the sound of footsteps on the staircase faded, and the sound of the door closing was audible.

“He’s gone.”

“Yeah. Let’s start checking.”

Instantly, Andre and I began walking around, tapping the floor.

Thud. Thud.

After some time of dull sound spreading, approximately 10 minutes passed, when suddenly an unusual sound came from the floor where Andre tapped in the corner of the underground library hidden behind the bookshelf.

Thunk.

The gray stone floor produced a distinct lighter sound compared to the others. Meaning it was hollow inside. Immediately, Andre lifted the stone slab.

“I think we’ve found it.”

Removing the slab revealed a wooden door just about the size for one person to pass through.

“This style feels familiar…”

It reminded me of the previous time when we cleared out Van Ray’s hideout.

“Seems like when disguising hideouts, the method is generally similar, primarily focusing on hiding their location. Thinking about it, the hideout of Investigation Team Three follows a similar pattern.”

Andre earnestly answered my murmuring, then quickly grabbed the handle of the wooden door.

As the old wooden door forcefully opened, like the underground library, a narrow staircase shrouded in darkness was revealed.