The massive bandit leader slowly opened his eyes and tried to move, but he felt the ropes tightening tightly around his body, preventing him from moving. He gritted his teeth and looked around.
Athtar stood at a distance, calmly sharpening his dagger. When he sensed the man waking up, he looked at him coldly; his eyes were calm and inscrutable.
"All right, then… Have you rested enough? Start talking."
Athtar didn't want to waste time. He pointed his dagger at the man, ordering him, but the man smiled coldly.
"Talk about what? We're just bandits who happened to spot your wagon while searching for victims…"
"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about why you came to this wagon. This road is secure—it's not the kind of place smart bandits like you would dare to cross."
"Tch…"
The man cursed coldly and looked away, then sighed slightly and turned his gaze back to Athtar with a cold stare.
"What? Don't you know how famous you are? That's all there is to it. Your 'Wanted' poster is extremely tempting, so we decided to track you down after hearing rumors that you were in these parts…"
"I wasn't talking about myself. Why are you chasing Lady Christie?"
«Damn it, how much does he know?»
That word caused the man's expression to shift slightly as he thought to himself before continuing with a smile, saying, "Huh? What do you mean? I was only chasing you…"
Athtar approached the man, then pressed his dagger against his cheek, causing a trickle of blood to flow from his face. "Don't lie. All the evidence points to a mastermind behind this series of assassinations. Or did you think you were the first person to come here?"
«What? That damn old man—why didn't he mention that?!»
A bead of sweat trickled down the man's face as he thought anxiously, but Athtar sighed, then raised the dagger high and brought it down, stabbing the man's foot and driving the blade all the way through to the bottom.
The man screamed in agony and gritted his teeth as he glared at Athtar with some anger, but Athtar's expression didn't change one iota. He wiggled the dagger in the man's foot, causing him to writhe in pain and scream.
"All right, all right! I'll tell you! Stop…"
Athtar stopped moving the dagger but didn't pull it out of the man's foot, which annoyed the man slightly. His body was now sweating from the pain. He closed his eyes and said, "Duke James Michelle… of the Kingdom of Kaivan... He's the one who sent us a request to arrest Lady Christie and bring her to him. That's all I know, I swear to you!"
"Oh... Duke James Michelle. I see... That makes sense now…"
Athtar pulled the dagger from the man's foot—which was now covered in blood—and waved it over the green grass, which was stained red with blood beside the man's body.
"I've told you everything… so…"
"Yes… I'll set you free…"
Athtar bent down and appeared to be untying the ropes, which made the man smile slightly, but he was startled when he felt pain in his chest. He looked down and saw Athtar's dagger embedded in his chest.
"You… said… that you… would set me free…?"
The man whispered weakly, looking at Athtar, who replied coldly as he pulled his dagger from his chest.
"Yes… I lied…"
The man's head slumped as he died, and Athtar took the ropes, leaving the body slumped against the tree trunk, and returned to the wagon where the others were waiting for him.
"Mr. Athtar… what happened?"
Christie was a little worried and looked at him curiously, but Athtar's facial expressions were unreadable, as were his body movements, which seemed perfectly natural as he tossed the rope into the storage compartment in the back.
"It seems this series of assassinations was indeed orchestrated."
Christie placed her hands over her chest, where her heart was, and looked at Athtar, who continued coldly, "It's Duke James Michelle… He must be after you."
Athtar's words were enough to send Christie's emotions reeling, and a look of revulsion crossed her face. She had thought him a better man than that, but scoundrels remain scoundrels no matter what.
"If he can't have me legally, he'll do it illegally… Was this the fate of all the girls in his palace?"
Just imagining what that man might have done to make those poor girls in his palace so submissive and hopeless made Christie want to vomit, and her body trembled slightly.
Her maid quickly supported her, holding her steady and patting her shoulder gently.
"For the king to allow such acts—just how depraved was the Kingdom of Kaivan?"
Even Athtar felt a wave of unease. Previously, he had been able to ignore anything or turn a blind eye to it, because he had Margret there, who loved that kingdom with all her heart and wanted to change it from her position as commander of the knights. That's why Athtar felt that kingdom deserved better, but now, all those feelings had vanished. Now he could see the bigger picture of the Kingdom of Kaivan.
Christie looked at Athtar, who in turn stared back at her. His eyes were as they always were—calm, cold, and unreadable.
"Let's go… We still have a long way to go…"
Christie nodded slightly at him and returned to the carriage with her maid.
The journey continued along the same route, and it wasn't long before a small kingdom appeared on the horizon.
On this continent, the settlement system was divided into seven Great Kingdoms, with Minor Kingdoms scattered between them, followed by major cities and villages. These human communities were spread across the land.
Each Great Kingdom had its own share of territory on the continent, and everyone living in that region—whether in a Minor Kingdom, a city, or a village—belonged to that Great Kingdom.
The Minor Kingdom that Athtar was currently passing through was a vassal of the Kingdom of Kaivan; it marked the border between the Great Kingdom of Kaivan and the Great Kingdom of Seiya, which lay beyond it.
The reason Athtar chose to go to the Kingdom of Seiya was that it was farther away from the Kingdom of Kanori—which lay west of the Kingdom of Kaivan and with which he had stronger ties—and it would be dangerous for him to remain there.
However, the Kingdom of Seiya was a neutral kingdom, allied with no other great power, so hiding there was a rational decision.
The Minor Kingdom Athtar was gazing at stirred some emotions in him; he whispered quietly as he looked at it.
"The Kingdom of Sura."
Christie noticed that Athtar was reacting more strongly than usual to this kingdom, so she asked him curiously, "Have you visited this kingdom before, Mr. Athtar?"
"Yes, several years ago…"
He replied briefly, which made Christie nod at him; if he'd wanted to talk about it, he would have elaborated. Lately, Christie had begun to understand Athtar a little better.
As the carriage entered the kingdom's walls and arrived at the capital, what awaited them inside was a modern urban cityscape: brick-paved roads, shiny modern carriages, and modern houses.
Christie opened her eyes a little, amazed by the kingdom's beautiful urban scenery. Her amazement wasn't due to the modernity itself, but rather to the elegant way this modernity manifested in the kingdom's capital.
Athtar realized that the wanted posters featuring him hadn't reached this place yet, so he felt a little relieved and began thinking about his plan regarding a certain matter.
The carriage stopped at one of the large hotels. Athtar got out first, then looked at Christie and said,
"I have something to do here. I'll be back later, or tonight."
Christie nodded quietly at him, and Athtar turned and walked away calmly. He began walking, looking at the houses, the carriages, and the people. No one regarded him as a stranger or acted suspiciously around him, and just as he had expected, the latest wanted posters hadn't reached this place yet.
He began walking toward another area, and these modern, urban houses began to grow fewer and fewer, replaced by less modern homes the further Athtar walked inland.
He finally reached the slums, where he saw people walking in utter misery—some barely had clothes on their backs, while others lay against the walls, holding out a hat in front of them, hoping that someone would be kind enough to give them a tip.
The world was that cruel—a cruelty that Athtar had experienced and remembered all too well.
Athtar wound his way through the alleys a few times and finally arrived at a specific spot: a strange little shack with a wooden door that looked worn and in a pitiful state, as if it might fall at any moment—but it never did.
Athtar headed toward the shack, coolly opened the wooden door, and stepped inside, only to find several desks lined up next to one another; some held strange books, others contained vials of various colors, and there were several barrels filled with swords.
By any measure, it was a suspicious-looking shop.
Athtar paid no attention to anything else and glanced toward the reception desk, where he found an old man sitting in a wheelchair, who appeared to be asleep.
"Welcome… to… my… humble… shop… How… may I help you?"
The old man said in a slightly weak and slow voice. Athtar replied with only a small nod and took a specific book out of his bag—the very same book he had found in the ruins of the Fallen Sanctum of Ilthara, inside the temple. It was a book belonging to one of the High Priests.
When the old man glanced at the book, he grasped it with his frail hand and saw that there was a lock requiring a key to open it.
"I want to open the book…"
"That… seems… a little… difficult…"
"Don't worry about payment; you know me… I'll pay you appropriately…"
"How… is… Margret…?"
Athtar pursed his lips coldly, his eyes flashing with a murderous intent and an overwhelming desire for revenge.
"Margret is gone…"
"I'm… sorry… about that… She was… a good… girl…"
Athtar turned away coldly, saying, "I'll come back to you later… I'm counting on you to open that book."
"Focus… on… what…'s… important…"
The old man replied, then leaned back in his chair, and Athtar left without adding another word. He felt a little uneasy, but there was nothing he could do; he had to suppress his desire for revenge, and he had to plan carefully to get his revenge, for his enemy was no longer just one man; he saw that his true enemy was the system that allowed such men to exist.
After walking for a while, Athtar had decided on his next destination: the Adventurers' Guild. Yes, there was an Adventurers' Guild that took on missions that knights didn't usually undertake, and Athtar had been registered there before becoming a knight under Margret's command when he lived here.
The reason he went to the Adventurers' Guild was to withdraw the money in his account. It wasn't a huge amount, but it would last him a long time until he found a way out of his current situation.
After withdrawing the money, he began walking calmly through the capital, heading back to the hotel where Christie was staying. The square he was walking through was now extremely crowded, which made walking through it somewhat difficult.
Athtar sighed as he looked at his bag, which contained the guidebook he intended to study before choosing one of the Paths, as well as his own money.
Athtar closed his eyes for a single second—a single second was enough for a certain shadow to appear and pass by him, snatching his bag away.
Athtar was startled, then quickly looked behind him and saw a person wearing a cloak that hid their features running away, with his bag in that person's possession.
"Stop right there!"
Athtar said coldly as he chased after the thief, but the thief was far too fast, and the crowd hindered Athtar's pursuit, while the thief's short stature allowed him to slip through the crowds with ease.
Athtar couldn't catch up to the person, but he saw the alley the thief had entered, so he headed in that direction as fast as he could. Unfortunately, there was nothing of note in that alley.
«Damn it… I let my guard down because I was distracted.»
He cursed coolly as he put his hand to his head, rubbing his hair slightly with some irritation. He kept walking forward, searching for any clue, and after leaving that alley and heading elsewhere, a window in a house suddenly opened, and the cloaked figure stepped out.
The cloaked figure looked toward Athtar as he ran away.
.
.
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To Be Continued.