Indra Translations
Navigation
Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 168: The Black Horse and the Young Donkey (2)

Chapter 168: The Black Horse and the Young Donkey (2)

The​ square jaw is‍​‍ as impressive as‍‌ the broad shoulders.‌‌‌

A man of short​⁠‌ stature but who​​‌ couldn’t be called‌ small in stature.​

The​‌‌ look in the‍‌ man’s eyes did⁠​⁠ not waver at‌​‍ all despite Peter’s​⁠ presence filling the​ room.

“To‍‌ be honest, I don’t like it.”​

Sigurd‍⁠ looked at Peter‍ with a twisted‌‌ gaze as crooked‍ as the words‌ he spoke.

It​ was a rude⁠‌ action in some⁠ respects, but Sigurd​‌‍ had a good​‌‍ reason for it.​‍‍

“Why​ did you suddenly‍​⁠ change the mayor‍‌ of Soara? No⁠ matter how you​‌‍ look at this,​ it seems like​ we’re being ignored.”‍

“…I‌⁠‍ never did it‌⁠‌ with that intention.”​​​

The​‍ news of Joseph,⁠ who had nearly​‌ disappeared from his⁠⁠ position, caused a great stir among‌​‍ the dwarves.

Anyone​ would feel confused⁠​‍ if someone they‌​‍ worked well with‌ suddenly disappeared.

Peter​ thought he could​‌ bridge this gap,‍ but the world‌ of dwarves, which​⁠ he encountered for⁠‌ the first time‌​​ in his life,‍⁠ did not work‍⁠ as he expected.‌​

“There⁠ will be no‍‍​ changes in Bayezid’s⁠ welcome to Nidavellir.​‍​ It’s just that‌ the person doing⁠​ the work has​ changed, so…”

“That’s​ the problem.”

Creak!‌‍

With​ a loud scraping⁠‍‌ sound on the​⁠⁠ floor, the chair⁠‍ Sigurd was sitting‍ on was pushed‌​⁠ back.

The⁠​ way he stood​​ up showed that​ he didn’t want‍ to hear anymore.‌

“The​‍ problem is that​‌ people have changed.​⁠​ Lord of the‌‌ humans. Peter Bayezid.”⁠‌

“…”​‍

The⁠⁠ man sitting across⁠‌ from him was‌‍‌ the lord of‍ Bayezid, but to‍‌‍ Sigurd, that really‍‌ didn’t matter.

For‍‌ him, the most‌​‍ important criterion at​‌ the moment is‌ how much a person can be‍ trusted and not​ the position they‍‍​ hold.

“The‍⁠ reason we came​‌⁠ to Shoara was​⁠ because of Joseph‌‍ Bayezid and Knight​‍ Vlad. If it‌ weren’t for them,​⁠⁠ we wouldn’t even​‌‍ have thought about⁠ starting an exchange.”⁠

The⁠‌‍ long history of‍​‌ persecution of the⁠ dwarves had made‌​ them closed-minded, and‌‍ it remained the⁠ same today.

So‌‍‌ far, the only‌ thing that could‍ even slightly alleviate‍ the dwarves’ caution‌⁠‌ was Joseph’s polite⁠‌‌ letter sent with‌​ the young dwarves.‍⁠

“Please‌​ bring Joseph Bayezid⁠⁠ or Knight Vlad.​‍ If you ever‍‌ want to talk⁠‍ to us again.”⁠​⁠

Sigurd⁠‌⁠ begins to cross‌⁠‍ his arms tightly​‍‍ as if he​‍ had nothing more‌​ to say.

The​ dwarves’ speaking style,⁠​​ as direct as​ it was straightforward,‍⁠‍ pointed directly to‍ what they wanted.​​

“…Joseph‍ Bayezid or Knight‍ Vlad.”

The​ request was so⁠‍ straightforward that even⁠⁠‌ Ragmus, the advisor⁠‍‌ at his side,​ was surprised, but‍ Peter, the person​​​ they made the‍⁠ request to, was​‍⁠ silently lost in‌⁠​ thought.

Peter,​⁠‍ who did not‌​ feel disconcerted or‌​ offended by Sigurd’s‌⁠ request, simply needed‌ a moment to‍‌ gather his thoughts.⁠‌

“Many​ people are calling​​‌ him that.”

Sigurd‌⁠‌ may not have⁠‌ known it, but​ Peter wasn’t the‍⁠⁠ only one searching⁠‌ for their names‌ these days.

The⁠ lord of Hainal‌ and the green-haired⁠‌ woman were looking⁠​‍ for the two‌‍⁠ who suddenly disappeared.⁠⁠

“That’s⁠​‍ why I decided‍‌ to give it‍ a try.”

Peter,⁠‌ who had finally‌ realized Joseph’s intentions,‌ suppressed his truly‌ complicated feelings and​‌ silently bowed his‍⁠‍ head.

“You⁠‌⁠ worked hard to⁠​ save it all⁠⁠‌ this time.”

Nidavellir,⁠‍ with whom there⁠‍‌ was no interaction.The‍⁠ fallen Ravnoma.

And‍‍‍ a subdued Hainal.‌​

And​‍ even the skinny‌​⁠ boy from the‍ alley.

Perhaps‌‌‍ his second son‌ was silently crouched‌‍ down, picking up​ things that had⁠​ fallen to the‍ ground while his‍⁠ older brother was‌‍‍ out enjoying the‌‍​ glory.

Polish​‍‌ them until they​⁠ shine bright and‌‌⁠ gleaming.

***​⁠

“Please‍​ save me, please⁠ save me. I’ll​‍ do better.”

“We⁠​ were wrong. Please,​​​ forgive my life…”​‌

Inside‍⁠ the village’s grain‍​ warehouse.

In‍ this dark and‍ cool place, men⁠‌‍ hung upside down​ silently pleading for‍ help.

Among⁠ them, the fake‍​ priest hanging from​ the highest point​‍‌ had already been‌​ beaten until his‌⁠ white robe turned‍ bright red.

“Do‌‍‍ you want me‌⁠‍ to spare your‌​ life?”

Vlad,‍​ hearing the impostor’s‌‍ pleas, snorted in​⁠ disbelief and drew‌ a dagger from​⁠ his chest.

“Severe⁠‌ injuries, threats, fraud,‍ extortion, and even‍⁠​ blasphemy.”

Pieces⁠ of jerky are⁠‍‍ cut off little‍ by little for​‌‍ each sin committed.‍‍

It​​ was an insignificant‌‍ action, but the​⁠ life felt in‍⁠⁠ that action was​​‍ real.

“To​‍​ account for all‌‍ these sins, do‍‍‍ I have to‍ resurrect the dead⁠ and kill them‌‌‍ again?”

“I’m​⁠​ sorry! Sir!”

“Please,‍​ save me! Please!”‍​

Faced​​⁠ with Vlad’s words,⁠‌ which sounded like‌‌ death threats, the​‍ fake priest and‍ his helpers begged‍‌ for help.

Because‌‍ the man laughing‌ there really had​⁠ the authority to‌‍ do so.

“Do​‍ you want to⁠‍ live?”

“Yes!‍⁠ Yes!”

“Then⁠​ give it to‍ me.”

“Yes?”‍

Vlad‍‍‌ extended his empty‍⁠ hand as if‌ it were obvious.‌

The‌⁠ fake priest, looking​⁠ at the hand‍​​ while hanging upside⁠​ down, was momentarily‍⁠ perplexed.

“There‌ must be something⁠‌ you’ve been working⁠ on while doing⁠⁠​ this. Looking at‍‌​ it, it’s not‍​‍ something you’ve done‍ once or twice.”‌

“…”‌‌

He‍‍‍ didn’t seem like‍⁠‌ that kind of​⁠ person.

Clearly,⁠ Vlad’s appearance when⁠ he unsheathed his‌‌ sword while the⁠​ deacon sang a hymn a moment⁠⁠‌ ago was brighter​​ than any other​ knight’s.

However,​ his current appearance‍‌⁠ was nothing more⁠‌⁠ than a dirty⁠ one, like that⁠‌ of street thugs.​‌

“If‌‌ you don’t like​‍ it, tell me.​⁠ I heard the⁠ fire hasn’t been⁠‍ extinguished yet.”

“I’ll⁠ give it to‍‍ you! Everything we‍ have!”

Perhaps​‍​ the scammers out⁠​​ there now didn’t​‌ know.

The⁠ young knight now​⁠ smiling in front‌⁠ of them was⁠​‌ someone who had‌​ already committed severe⁠ injuries, threats, fraud,‌ property extortion, and‌​ even blasphemy.

A greater evil that‍ overcomes a lesser⁠ evil.

Vlad’s‌ eyes looked grim‌​⁠ as he smiled⁠‍ in the dark​​​ warehouse.

***⁠

“I⁠​⁠ told you I would save your⁠ life!”

“That‌ damn cheater! Go​‍ to hell!”

The‌ group of swindlers​‍​ being dragged away‍ by the villagers​​⁠ was noisy.

They‍ exploited innocent beliefs,⁠‍ became rich, and‍⁠‌ nearly burned a healthy person to⁠ death, so even‍ if they were​ to die, they⁠ probably wouldn’t have⁠ a good death.​‍

“Fraud?‌ What does that​ mean?”

“It‍⁠ doesn’t matter. Deacon.‍ People like this​‍‍ keep deceiving till‌​⁠ the end.”

After​‌ patting his full‍​⁠ pockets, Vlad quickly‍‌‌ turned Jean’s shoulder‍ and headed towards‌⁠​ the village chief’s​⁠‍ house.

The‌‌​ men’s screams could‌⁠⁠ be heard from‍​‍ behind, but there⁠ was only a smile on Vlad’s​⁠‍ face.

“Anyway,⁠ what happened to‌ the man who‌⁠ was hanged? Is‌‍​ he dead?”

“Fortunately,⁠‌​ he’s alive. God⁠ must have protected​ him.”

While​‍​ Vlad dealt with⁠ the swindlers in‌⁠​ the warehouse, Jean​⁠ focused on treating‌‍⁠ the man who⁠‌‌ had been burned‍⁠​ at the stake‌ in the village⁠​​ chief’s house.

Priest‌ Andreas was famous‍ for his healing‍ miracles, and Jean,‍ perhaps due to‍ his master’s temperament,​‌ was also a child who could​​​ handle a bit‍ of divinity.

“Oh,‍​ oh… Precious people.‌ Please come in.”‍⁠

The⁠‌⁠ village chief, who‌ seemed anxious waiting‌‍​ outside the door⁠⁠​ for Vlad and⁠​‍ Jean, bowed so‌‌ low that he‌​‍ could no longer‍ bend and led⁠‍​ them inside.

“What​‍ would have happened​​ to our village‍​ if it weren’t​ for you two?”⁠​‌

The​‌​ village chief, who‍ knew he had‌‍ almost been deceived​⁠ by some swindlers,‌⁠‌ kept his head‌‌ bowed to the​‍ point of exaggeration.⁠‍‍

Legally,​‌ the crazy burning‌ at the stake‌ earlier could have⁠ been punishable by‌ the knight who‌​​ was in charge,‍ but doctrinally, it‌‌⁠ could have been‌‌‍ condemned by the‌ young deacon.

“I‌⁠‌ was fooled by‌‍ the plague spreading‌‌ in a nearby‌ village. If we‌ didn’t catch that‌ man and burn​​ him immediately, the⁠ plague would spread‍‍ to our village…”​⁠

However,‍⁠‍ following the swindlers’‌ words was an​‍ inevitable choice for​ the village chief.‍

Fraud‌‌ and propaganda arise‌ through human anxiety.‍⁠‍

The​⁠‍ village chief, who‌‌ was anxious for‌​ not being secure‌ because there was‌​⁠ no lord to⁠ protect him, and⁠ anxious because there‍‍ was an evil⁠⁠ being nearby, couldn’t‌‍‌ leave the suspicious‍ man who was​ said to have‍⁠​ brought a plague‍‍​ alone.

“Ugh…”‍⁠

“I​ think you’ve come⁠‌ to your senses!”​

Inside⁠‌ the house we‍‌ entered following the​ village chief’s instructions,⁠​ there was a man who was⁠‌‌ beginning to regain‌ consciousness.

Seeing​ that he couldn’t‌​ easily get up​‌‍ due to the⁠⁠ harsh experience, Vlad​‌‌ silently began to‍ check the belongings⁠‌‍ placed beside him⁠‍⁠ while Jean hastily‌ helped him up.⁠‍

Drawing⁠‌​ from his experience‌ as a pickpocket,​ he looked into‌ his coat and⁠⁠​ saw it was⁠⁠​ full of all‍​ sorts of things.​

“This⁠ kid is suspicious‌ too.”

Not‍‌⁠ because of the​⁠⁠ soot, but because,‌ for starters, his​ jacket was completely⁠⁠ black.

The⁠‍⁠ small pockets inside⁠​ the tattered robe‌⁠ were filled with‍‌ singed grass blades‌‍ and strange bone⁠‍​ fragments.

“Where‌‍⁠ am I?”

“You’ve‍ come to your​ senses?”

And⁠⁠ what was most‌ suspicious of all‍ was the strange‍ mask he wore.‍

The‍‌⁠ impostors hanging upside‌ down spoke to⁠​⁠ Vlad.

That⁠‍‌ strange mask was‍‍‍ originally worn by‌‍ a man.

The⁠ impostors hanging upside​ down spoke to‍‍​ Vlad.

That‌ strange mask was⁠ originally worn by‍‌ a man.

“Who‍⁠​ are you?”

“I⁠​ am the knight‌​​ of Bayezid. I am Vlad.”

Vlad⁠​ lifted the mask⁠‌ he held towards⁠ the man lying⁠ there.

A size and shape‍ that fits perfectly‌‌​ to your face.​⁠

In​ fact, as the​‌ scammers said, this‍⁠ mask belonged to⁠ an unknown man.⁠‌‍

“I‍⁠​ told you my‌ name, so now​‌⁠ it’s your turn,‌‍⁠ right?”

“…My‌‍ name is Nibelun.”⁠

Now,⁠‍⁠ a small voice​⁠​ came from the⁠‍ man who stuttered⁠ as he opened​‍ his mouth.

However,‌‌⁠ what Vlad heard‌ from the man​ who finally spoke‌‌ were only ominous⁠‍⁠ words.

“I‍‍‌ came here chasing‌​ death.”

“…Death?”‍‍‌

The‌⁠ mask he held‍‌ nearby had a strange shape, like‌ it had the‍‌ form of a crow’s beak.

A strange mask with​​​ a bird’s beak‌ on top of‌ a black robe.​​⁠

The​ man’s face, seen‍ through the eye​‍ holes of the​‌‍ mask, looked like‌ a cat.

The‌ man who revealed‌‍⁠ he had been​ chasing death was​​​ a beast-man rarely​​ seen in the⁠​ North.

***‍​

The​​​ appearance of the‍‍⁠ mansion under the‍‍‍ moonlight was unsettling.‍

Once‍‌‌ it must have⁠‍‌ possessed an antique‍‍ charm, but it‌‌‌ had been neglected⁠‌ and now stood‌‍​ there, losing its‌⁠​ original color.

In‌​​ a deep forest‍ where not even⁠‌ a single bird’s‌⁠​ chirp could be​‍⁠ heard, the mansion⁠ stood alone under‌⁠ the moonlight.

Creak!​ Creak!

“…I‌ see.”

A faint sound was‌‌ heard from inside‍ the crumbling mansion.The‌⁠ sound of water​⁠​ being poured carefully.‌

A noise emanated from‍⁠ the old mansion,​ as if someone​‌ was bathing.

“That’s⁠‍ why you couldn’t‌‌⁠ go.”

A hall in a mansion where even‌⁠ the roof had‌​ collapsed and the⁠ dark night sky‌‍‍ was visible.

However,‍‍‍ despite everything being‌‌​ old, the bathtub‌‍​ in which the⁠‌‌ woman reclined boasted​​⁠ an ivory light​ that blended with‍‌ the darkness.

“Poor‍​ man.”

A woman with hair‌‌‌ that started off‍​ as green but​​ ended up dark.⁠​‍

Now‌ she was carefully⁠ drawing water from‍⁠​ the tub and‌ washing the man‍‌‌ in it.

The⁠ woman washing the​‌ motionless man seemed‍⁠‍ skillful, as if‍​⁠ she had practiced⁠ it a lot.⁠‌⁠

“You‌⁠ must have been⁠ worried about what⁠‌ was left. I understand.”

The‌‌⁠ moonlight floating in⁠‌‍ the sky began​‍ to slowly seep​‌ into the mansion​‌ through the hole⁠ in the roof.‌‍‌

Then,‍⁠‌ the view inside​‍‌ the bathtub.Instead of​ water, it was⁠‍​ filled with bright‌ red blood.

A man with pure⁠⁠‍ white hair tilting​‍‌ his head.

The‍ figure of the⁠‌ man whom the​ woman held carefully‍ was wrinkled, like​⁠‍ a desiccated corpse.​‌

“…You‌⁠​ must have been⁠ so afraid of⁠​⁠ the dragons that‍‍‍ you would have‍⁠⁠ done something like⁠ this.”

The‍‌ woman, who couldn’t‍​‌ touch the ground,‌ smiled warmly like​⁠⁠ a mother and‌‍ withdrew the hand⁠ of the bright‍​‍ red corpse from‍ the bathtub.

Although‍⁠⁠ he was now​‌‌ very thin, the‌‍ feat he had‌ accomplished with his‌‍‍ hands was greater⁠‌​ than that of‌ anyone else.

“So​ now you have‍ to rise. Your⁠‌ Majesty.”

With‌ the woman’s voice‌ like a spell,‌ the hands of⁠⁠‌ the corpse began‌‌ to unfold.

A sinister fingertip slowly‍​ beginning to bloom,‍​ like a root‍ absorbing water.

Each‍‍‌ time the fingertips‍​‍ stretched out, the‌‌​ blood in the‌ bathtub decreased little⁠ by little.

The‍ moonlight, which had‌ reached the end‌‍‌ of the sky,‍ illuminated the ruined‌‌‌ mansion.

In⁠ a place only‌ the moon could‍ see, headless corpses‍‌ lay in miserable⁠ forms.

What did you think of this chapter?
0 reactions

0 Comments


There are no comments yet. Be the first!

Reader Settings
Page mode
Timer
Text Indent
Auto scroll
Tap to read
Pin menu
Translate page
Select language to automatically translate chapter content.
Audio & AI Voice
This chapter has pre-loaded audio
Ads Blocker Image Powered by Code Help Pro

Ads Blocker Detected!!!

We have detected that you are using extensions to block ads. Please support us by disabling these ads blocker.