Chapter 283 - Clue (2)
Ezra and Molly, dispatched from different Magic Towers.
The mages, who had been urgently contacted by the Lord of the Autonomous Territory, came to the castle.
Since it was already far past dinnertime, late into the night, the two were extremely displeased, so the Lord had to personally bow and scrape before he could barely calm their tempers.
Only after that could he finally explain the situation.
"...That is what happened."
"Ha, what happened, you say."
Molly snorted.
Folding her arms, she lifted her chin as if in disbelief.
"So, because of some unheard-of fellow who rules nothing more than the underworld, you summoned us? And even told us to use
"I agree with Molly. What on earth is so urgent about this... Couldn't you have told us tomorrow, or even the day after? I don't understand why it had to be in the middle of the night, and in secret contact at that."
Ezra too showed displeasure like her.
An even more complacent mindset than that of the Lord's knight, Rentiha.
Their pride in being part of one of the ten Magic Towers was more arrogant than the elitism of most nobles.
At that sight, the Lord of the Autonomous Territory closed his eyes tight.
'Well, since the Magic Tower has no direct connection with the underworld, I suppose it is only natural they react this way.'
Still, they should have heard at least somewhat about the ruler of Roafra.
And yet they treated it so lightly that his nape ached.
'Why is it that, even though he bears the title of king, they see him so lightly....'
How should he speak of the danger that name carried?
How could he persuade them, so the gravity he felt would be conveyed, even a little?
The Lord pressed his eyes with his fingers.
With an inward sigh, he lowered his voice and spoke with a serious expression.
"I understand what you two are saying... but to speak frankly, I don't believe it is something we can pass over lightly. According to rumors, that is."
"Rumors? What rumors do you mean?"
"Yes, well, they say the young mage who usurped the throne destroyed almost half of the underground city of Roafra. In other words, there are opinions that he may have already surpassed the 5th tier...."
"Haah? Are you saying that fellow reached the 6th tier? Tsk tsk, Lord, you know far too little of magic."
Molly clicked her tongue and shook her head.
"Let me explain this specially for you. The 6th tier is not something one dares mention lightly. It is a realm allowed only to the rare few chosen by the heavens with such talent that even we cannot aspire to. One of that level could sit on the Council of Elders in a Magic Tower, or be regarded as a major strategic power in a kingdom."
"To give an example from nearby, the Kingdom of Estiria's Captain of the Court Mage Corps. Leonil, the Raging Inferno, a high 6th-tier Magus. He is a powerhouse known to everyone across the Eastern Continent. And yet you believe some ruler of the underworld has reached the 6th tier? To accept that at face value, it seems your ears are quite soft, Lord."
The two mages laughed openly.
The Lord of the Autonomous Territory took out his handkerchief to wipe away sweat. His face burned from their blatant ridicule.
'These damned Magic Tower bastards.'
He wanted to retort strongly, but held it back.
No matter what he said, they would not listen properly. That arrogant sense of authority was beyond even his reach as a Lord.
Soon Ezra, having finished laughing, spoke.
"Still, even if the rumor is exaggerated, there must be some truth at its root, and since you, Lord, are worried... it would be best to assume he is a high 5th-tier mage, or perhaps a mid 5th-tier Magus. No, we should even consider the possibility he is a high 5th-tier Magus."
"Ezra, isn't that too generous an estimate? That he could be our equal, or even higher in realm?"
"Well, in actual ability we would be superior, but a realm is a realm. He may not have entered a Magic Tower, but could still possess extraordinary talent. Still, it remains unchanged that he is an underworld-born without foundation."
Ezra stroked his beard.
"At any rate, that Asher? That man is using the low-class rabble scattered across the backstreets to gather information about the Mamentus Merchant Guild. That much we understand. I wish we knew the reason though."
"I did try to find out, but, not yet..."
Molly cut the Lord's words short.
"Just to mention it, could he perhaps be a minion of the Bohemirn Magic Tower? Otherwise, it makes little sense for him to dig into a merchant guild that is on the verge of collapse."
"It is hard to believe that Bohemirn Magic Tower would so openly hire an underworld figure... but we cannot rule it out just yet."
"Would it not be better to deal with him at once? Of course, we cannot move openly ourselves, so we may have no choice but to call 'them' from the Central Continent again."
"But did they not say they only act in matters related to Bohemirn Magic Tower? Since it is not yet confirmed, summoning them would be troublesome. As you know, they are terribly rough."
"Then what do you suggest? We are to simply stand by and watch?"
"That is not what I mean... hmm, let me see...."
Ezra sank into thought.
After a moment, he opened his eyes and smiled faintly.
"Then how about this?"
The Lord tilted his head.
"Yes? What do you mean..."
"The problem is, we do not know the opponent's motive. And, if we try to investigate, there are too many back-alley vermin. These two points are our greatest obstacles, are they not?"
Ezra fixed his gaze on the Lord.
"So, let us probe him directly."
***
Verden stayed in place, receiving continuous reports of the situation.
Mobilizing the backstreets of the Autonomous Territory to gather information and monitor the streets was convenient beyond measure.
Had it been during the time he worked as Gray's mercenary, he would have had to move personally.
'It costs a bit, but I have plenty of money anyway.'
In subspace and in his account at Dyna Bank, vast wealth lay sleeping.
Not enough to claim he could do anything he wished, but enough to spend freely for matters like this, for his personal needs.
As a result, Verden could take the lead in the situation itself.
'For now, only the Lord of the Autonomous Territory has reacted strongly.'
The Magic Tower on the Volcanic Island and the Larrian Magic Tower were still quiet.
In truth, it might only appear so, and they may already be in contact with the Lord. They could have hidden themselves with
With only the backstreet forces, who had almost no mages, it was far beyond their ability to detect such movement.
But it did not matter.
Already, they would have become aware of Verden's existence, and accordingly would show some kind of response.
Whatever it may be, they could not simply ignore it. To sit idly while someone stirred up an almost-finished matter would be far too irritating.
'They might even try to assassinate me with a third force.'
Honestly, that was the flow he wanted.
He could achieve his goal without wasting further time. Of course, only if that force proved worthy of being drawn to his side.
If their directions did not align, he planned simply to leave the territory and find others.
'If they obstruct my path, I'll annihilate them on the spot.'
Wealth, authority, force.
Though an individual, Verden held all three. His confidence, rooted in that, was like an unbreakable fortress.
Then, one day, a strange letter was delivered through Padreld.
"...It is from the Lord of the Autonomous Territory himself. Perhaps it contains some kind of poison, shall I check it first?"
"No need."
He was immune to poison.
Verden opened the letter without hesitation.
Inside was a kind of 'invitation' written in the Lord's own hand.
Glancing at it, Padreld was unable to hide his shock.
"Th-this is...!"
"The Lord has invited me to his castle."
Rather than killing him at once, it seemed he wished to learn why Verden was pursuing the information of the Mamentus Merchant Guild. A textbook, yet bold decision.
Rumor had it he was an extremely cautious and selfish noble.
'Did someone else advise him?'
The date was set five days from now.
Apparently he needed time, so it was set rather long. Though Verden would have preferred to meet immediately, this much he could concede.
Verden neatly folded the letter and tossed it casually onto the desk.
Padreld carefully asked.
"Sir Asher, about meeting with the Lord of the Autonomous Territory... will it be all right? You will surely end up having to talk about the Mamentus Merchant Guild."
In truth, Verden had nothing to do with the Mamentus Merchant Guild.
Which meant, he had no reason to dig into that guild. At the meeting where he had been invited by the Lord, he would have no choice but to keep silent.
Perhaps suspicion would deepen, and a battle might break out in the middle.
Padreld's concern was reasonable.
Of course, Verden had long since prepared a countermeasure.
"With the information you all have already brought me, I know enough about the Mamentus Merchant Guild. So, I can simply make up a reason."
The master of the Mamentus Guild was from the Republic of Riviant.
He had once run his guild in the territory of Count Rodenmeyer, who was connected to Gray's commission and the Principality's agency, and with whom Verden had a certain degree of acquaintance.
He had also identified what that man had done before coming to the Autonomous Territory of Midros.
And Verden held the title of King of the Underworld.
Using those two points properly, fabricating a plausible excuse would be an easy task.
"So there will be no conflict, probably."
"...I do hope so."
Padreld bowed his head.
He did not forget to offer a small prayer.
Even if they could somehow get through other troubles, being caught up in an incident of the Lord's assassination was something he desperately wished to avoid.
At that moment, Verden turned his head.
"But recently, Baldar and Frankie have not been seen. Not since the exact moment I gave them orders."
Could it be they had run away?
For an instant, he thought so, but Padreld denied it.
"No, a few days ago they came to me and said they were going off to search for some information. They added that it might take time, so contacting them would be difficult."
"Is that so."
"They took no subordinates, and carried nothing in particular, so it's not that they fled. Still, they are fellows who always look after their own necks."
Padreld shrugged.
"Most likely, they are thinking not of running away, but of risking their lives to show good service to you, Sir Asher, to make up for their previous failure. So perhaps you should wait a little. After all, there's nothing to lose, is there."
***
The western slums of the Autonomous Territory.
Deep within, the underground waterway lurked with pitch-black darkness.
The entrance was relatively safe, but the deeper one went, the more filth and the worse the stench.
Not only a haven for insects, but even abnormal species in insect form dwelled there. Meeting them in such a confined place, they were visually hideous monsters.
Into such a place went Frankie and Baldar.
"Th-this is insane...! Even with a mask on, the smell, damn...!"
"Breathe through your mouth. Unless you want to suffocate to death from the stench."
"Mouth, nose, whatever, I'm about to drop dead anyway, urgh."
Though their bodies were protected with gloves, boots, and masks, it was unbearably revolting.
The waterway, rising from ankles to shins, was horror itself.
Sometimes the drifting corpses of insects floated by, provoking primal revulsion.
Still, they did not stop.
Having set foot here, they had to gain something.
Not long after, the two managed to obtain a piece of information.
"As expected, the vagrants and Retz are nowhere to be seen."
The underground waterway was empty.
Normally, from the entrance, they would have been attacked again and again for trespassing into their territory.
Raising his mana lamp, Baldar narrowed his eyes.
"I heard the vagrants were lurking before the Rainbow-hued Inn caught fire... this may very well be connected."
"Yeah, damn it. I really hope so. If we come this far and find nothing, I'll go insane."
Frankie did not stop complaining.
Even so, he sharpened his senses and moved forward.
From time to time, long-mouthed mosquitoes the size of a human torso attacked, but they were only disgusting, not difficult to deal with.
The scimitars in his hands sliced through the abnormal species with ease.
Thus they went deeper still.
Even a single meal taken here would be the worst of one's life, that much was clear.
Even drinking water felt like swallowing sewage.
How could people possibly live here?
The vagrants and rats of the slums seemed worthy of respect in comparison.
So wretched was their life, and yet their resistance had grown strong, that they could live, eat, and excrete in this underground waterway without dying of disease.
'So where the hell did those mad bastards go.'
Had they finally given up and left the territory?
Just as he thought that, among the faintly flowing water appeared a black bundle. He fished it up lightly with his scimitar.
"...Hair?"
Human hair.
A whole clump of it.
Frankie and Baldar looked each other in the eye.
At once, their gazes flashed, and they headed toward the place where the hair had drifted down.
A hollow space in the wall of the underground waterway.
Entering it, the reek of rot stung their eyes. Something was surely lurking in that darkness.
Swallowing quietly, the two pushed the mana lamp forward.
"...?!"
"Damn, holy shit...!"
And they faced it.
Dozens of corpses, rotting in the shallow water.
They were the remains of the missing Retz, and the vagrants.
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