Chapter 110

When Aint showed the Saint Bird in the town hall’s banquet hall and proudly revealed his name before everyone, the situation was resolved.

The three corrupt were either killed or captured, and immediately transferred to Vienderk’s prison.

In the following inspections, no other corrupt were found.

Of course, that wasn’t completely certain.

“Because the inside can’t be directly examined.”

Examining another person’s Aura Hole or Mana Heart was taboo, and not even Aint could lightly peer into others’ insides.

But at least outwardly, there was no one left who seemed corrupt, and the same was true when checked with the Dragon God Cult’s artifacts.

So, the incident was closed for now.

【The Duke of Vienderk announces the cancellation of the 198th Continental Conference and the holding of a memorial ceremony for those killed in the corrupts’ attack…!】

Even though the culprits had been identified and caught, the fact remained that there had been eleven victims.

Especially since among the dead were nobles and royalty, the page could not simply be turned, nor the event continue in a festive mood.

【A wave of mourning for the victims spreads…】

The Continental Conference was canceled, replaced by commemorative and funeral ceremonies.

But if there was darkness, there was also light.

Whoosh—

Aint drew back the curtains and revealed the scene outside the window.

Below, an uncountable crowd.

“Aint Armian!”

“Aint Armian!”

And the name they chanted.

The same incident that had left eleven victims had given birth to a hero named Aint Armian.

“Step back!”

The Duke of Vienderk sent knights to protect him, but even so, Aint couldn’t take a single step outside.

“Ugh… A life without freedom. I really didn’t expect this.”

— Get used to it. From now on, that will be your life.

The people’s passion for a hero was natural.

In times of chaos, people seek someone to lean on. That is a hero.

The first emperor of Armian had once been one, and now Aint Armian would be too.

Because that was the safest path for the world to survive.

— And the rich guy left first, right?

“Yes. He said he would go ahead to transport the Magic Stone Core to where it was needed. When I wanted to accompany him, he told me I should stay a bit longer to maintain the mood.”

Fernan had departed first.

With a Magic Stone Core, it wasn’t possible to use a teleportation circle, so transporting it took quite a bit of time.

— The place where it was needed?

“I think he said to the Dragon God Cult.”

— To the Dragon God Cult, huh? I don’t know what they want it for, but at least it’s a safe place.

“I agree.”

Although they presented themselves as a religious organization, in reality it was full of brilliant magicians, and they also hated demons and corrupt.

At the very least, if the Core reached the Dragon God Cult intact, it was unlikely the corrupt could devise new plots—unless they managed to summon a demon.

— But will they accept it?

“From what I heard, as long as they’re paid, they’ll do anything…”

— …Yeah, they’re known for that. After Pellenberg, they’re the most obsessed with money.

More like with the experiments and magical research they could fund with it.

“But what was the corrupts’ real goal? What do they gain by killing eleven people?”

— Who knows. For now, I can think of three possibilities.

— One, to prevent the Continental Conference from being held.

— Two, to assassinate powerful figures to cause chaos and weaken the forces on this side.

— And three…

Knock, knock.

At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

“Lord Aint, you have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“…That is…”

The employee had barely hesitated when suddenly, click, the door opened.

And there stood someone completely unexpected.

“…His Excellency the Duke?”

“So you are Aint Armian. This is the first time we meet.”

The lord of Vienderk, Duke Gransis Vienderk.

“Forgive the sudden visit. Under other circumstances I would never commit such discourtesy, but given the situation, I’m afraid I couldn’t wait.”

The duke sat on the sofa as if it were the most natural thing.

“Ah, don’t worry.”

The sudden appearance of such a figure left Aint speechless.

— Calm down, Aint.

If Gardner, hanging from his neck, hadn’t given him encouragement, it would have taken longer to recover his composure.

— Duke of Vienderk or not, you are Aint Armian. The future emperor.

— There’s no one you need to fear.

— Besides, aren’t you now the hero of Valerich? From his perspective, he should be bowing to you for catching the corrupt.

Although Aint didn’t expect it to go that far, those words were enough to dispel his unease.

And that change in his demeanor did not go unnoticed by the duke.

“I’m fine, Your Excellency. Though I thought you would summon me.”

After all, even though he helped resolve the situation, he had done so without consulting the lord of the region. It was logical to expect that sooner or later the duke would call him to account, even if Fernan had already moved strategically.

“And how could I summon you? You’ve been the benefactor who delivered Valerich from its affliction. That you moved a little within my domain is nothing.”

— This Duke of Vienderk is surprisingly humble. The first one was unbearably arrogant, and the first emperor had to teach him several lessons.

Aint ignored Gardner and focused on the conversation.

“I’ve received reports. Thanks to your actions, the corrupt were detected and captured without further harm.”

“Yes.”

“Impressive. At your age, not only have you recovered the secret sword art of Armian, known until now only by legend, but you’ve also already achieved such merits. The head of your house must be more than pleased.”

“You flatter me, Your Excellency.”

Aint responded modestly.

At that moment, the duke looked at him with a gleam in his eyes—one that Aint couldn’t see—and inwardly, he had already rendered a judgment and conclusion about him.

“But I find it hard to believe you intervened in that situation purely out of a sense of justice. I think you were looking for a stage to make your name known, and Valerich happened to be it.”

“That is…”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t come to scold you—on the contrary.”

“…The contrary, you say?”

Aint asked cautiously.

“A long time ago, when the first emperor rose up against the demons full of indignation, we, the Vienderk, were among those who supported him most firmly at his side. And I take pride in that.”

Of course.

“What do you say we repeat that legend together once more?”

Duke Gransis Vienderk smiled.

***

While Aint was meeting with the duke, Fernan was walking with Rosalia through the mountains after leaving Valerich.

The reason it was already spoken of in the past was simple—they encountered an unexpected enemy.

“……”

Fernan and Rosalia stood face to face with a man who blocked the path alone.

Through the black robe that covered him entirely, his deep, dark eyes stood out.

The man extended a finger toward them, pointing at what they were carrying behind.

“That. I’ll have to take it.”

His voice was deep, thick.

“Who are you?”

“Do I have to say it?”

There was no need to ask.

The aura he began to emit, the presence of corrupt magic leaking from his body, was proof enough: a corrupt.

“I’ll give it to you.”

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

Rosalia’s brow furrowed at Fernan’s words, but he continued speaking calmly.

“I’ll just ask one question. I’ve thought and thought about this, but I can’t find an answer.”

Fernan had spent days pondering why the corrupt had murdered eleven people.

If the demon summoning had succeeded, it would’ve been understandable—they could have annihilated the continent’s elite gathered at the conference in a single moment.

That would’ve been a devastating blow to humanity.

But what did they gain by merely killing eleven nobles?

“Did they want to stop the conference? Or was it simply venting their rage by killing a few? Or maybe…?”

Fernan paused.

“To expel Vienderk from the Empire? But, would something so small be enough?”

“It was to stop the conference.”

“I see.”

“Then hand over what I asked for.”

“Sorry, but without a signed contract, I have no obligation to fulfill promises. You should’ve brought a paper first.”

“So you tricked me.”

“And you lied too. We’re even.”

Whether it was true or not didn’t matter; the exchange of words was what counted.

“Professor.”

“You’ve wasted time talking, Fernan.”

“You never know.”

Rosalia stepped forward.

“I said it recently, but I’ll repeat it—I detest when someone covets what’s mine.”

“This is the first time I’ve aimed for something of yours.”

“Bah, the one behind you is the same as always, isn’t it? Damn corrupt.”

She opened a subspace and took out her staff.

“Tell your master what the price of this insolence will be.”

From a clear sky, soft snowflakes began to fall.

“Everyone back. I’ll handle this.”

“But…”

“I said back!”

The Red Turtle knights hesitated but retreated at Fernan’s command.

Joining forces would’ve helped, but if Rosalia unleashed her full wrath, they could end up getting in the way.

And besides…

“…Damn it, Sir Harten.”

“Yes, I feel it too.”

The enemy wasn’t alone.

“Die!”

At Rosalia’s gesture, a rain of ice descended.

Kieeeek!

Grrrr—

From various parts of the mountain range, monsters emerged.

Winged shadows of class 8 soared through the sky, and dozens of giant caterpillars, muscular class 7 orcs called Orgas, advanced, shaking the ground.

Thud, thud!

Fernan subtly gripped the pendant that trembled with excitement.

“Wait. It’s not your turn yet.”

He too drew his staff and unleashed a spell.

Rumble!

An avalanche of rocks fell onto the orcs. That was the signal.

“Two each! Finish quickly and regroup at the carriages!”

“Yes!”

The Scarlet Shield knights charged immediately.

Roarrr!

The Orgas shattered the rocks, but steel was already waiting for them.

Clang—!

Flesh and sword clashed, but the result was clear:

“Guaaargh!”

The orcs fell in pieces, and the knights finished them without mercy.

Against an elite squad like that, mere class 7 monsters stood no chance.

They didn’t take long to fall.

But they couldn’t return to the wagons.

“…There are more enemies.”

“Here too.”

The orcs were just the beginning.

Fernan reinforced the wagon carrying the Mana Stone Core with multiple magical barriers.

He watched calmly—Rosalia and the corrupt were evenly matched, while the knights decimated the orcs.

‘Nothing complicated.’

He hadn’t expected an attack on the return trip, but that didn’t mean he was defenseless.

With that strength, they could hold out.

“More monsters!”

“There are too many!”

The knights reengaged against new hordes, and Fernan maintained the same impression.

And then.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A rock fist emerged from the ground and struck someone who had been sneaking up. The ambush was exposed.

“…Wow, I’ve been discovered. Thought I was flawless. How did you find me?”

“I anticipated it.”

Their magical detectors hadn’t picked up anything, but Fernan had other methods.

“So, aren’t you going to give me what I want?”

“Not in your dreams.”

“I figured.”

The hooded man—another corrupt—shrugged. His aura suddenly shifted.

“Then I’ll take it by force.”

From his hand, a fist of dark magic emerged and smashed through the rock. At the same time, balls of black fire flew toward Fernan.

He raised a stone wall, but it melted instantly.

“…!”

The destructive power was greater than expected. Quickly, he launched another spell.

Crack—

The ground opened up, and Fernan sank with the wagon, avoiding the flames.

“Annoying.”

The corrupt leapt into the chasm, but was engulfed by a torrent of enchanted sand.

Clatter—

The sand shredded monsters effortlessly, but couldn’t pierce through his corrupt aura.

“Is this all…?”

No. There was another trick: among the sandstorm, glass bottles were hidden.

Boom—!

They exploded next to him, dousing him in a liquid that burned against his magic.

“This is… holy water. From the Dragon God Cult? You got me good.”

“Only one load? Naive.”

From the cracks, metal spears shot out, piercing his weakened aura.

Small orbs entered his wounds.

BOOM!

Chain explosions deformed his body.

They were magic stones engraved with explosion spells.

“Kh… dangerous. But this won’t defeat me.”

His shattered body began to regenerate…

BOOOM!

A colossal greatsword erupted like a volcano and split him in two before he could heal.

“What…?”

With his lower half destroyed, he opened his eyes in disbelief.

“Where did that come from…?”

“Was that your last breath?”

The greatsword rose from below.

His body was cleaved in two, torn apart by a brutal overload of aura.