Chapter 29
Having gotten a new weapon, I practiced with the Dragon Scale Sword for a while, and before I knew it, night had come.
[Name: Ian Impera]
Rank: 3 (Swordsmanship). 3 (Magic).
“…The rank hasn’t gone up.”
The Dragon Scale Sword was a fine blade, but it didn’t raise my rank.
To overcome the first wall using only an artifact required a fairly expensive artifact. You needed a craftsman’s skill, and whatever it was, lots of materials. No matter that Harun was talented—no few hammer strikes were going to increase a rank.
Still, it was an interesting sword. It felt much lighter, and its cutting power was not comparable to before.
“Heh…!”
With this, maybe I could beat Romulus? Even if the rank is lagging?
“…No. That’s reckless. If I gamble and die, that’s it.”
I stared at the Dragon Scale Sword. Then the words on the palm where the rank had been displayed began to change.
[Dragon Scale Sword: A sword made by the Dwarf craftsman Bronze Beard.]
—The current stats are not yet confirmed.
“Oh.”
Right, I remembered this mechanic. In the ‘Rank-pushing world conquest!’ setting, if you stare at an artifact, its background appears. But if it was made recently, or if it was a demonic sword, the stats could be hidden like this. In that case you have to go out yourself and open up the stats. Or you could have it appraised, but that only works on random blades; a sword made by Harun couldn’t be appraised. So I’d have to confirm it by testing it myself.
“Master.”
“…Is that Islin?”
“Yes.”
“Come in.”
Islin, wearing a maid uniform, came into the room. She seemed a bit uncomfortable in the clothes, but they suited her at first glance.
“How did the order go?”
“Yes. I actually came to tell you about that.”
Through Islin I had already issued a command to the Ian clan. Romulus would surely have been hidden by Count Vener. But the black mage who had rampaged through his lands wouldn’t have been put away nicely. If he were, Vener must have locked him in a dungeon below the manor. In that case Romulus wouldn’t take kindly to Vener. He might quietly leave Vener’s domain, but he was more likely to wreck one town with black magic and then disappear.
So I ordered the Ian clan to scout the small villages in Count Vener’s lands. A single black mage couldn’t take a big town by himself — he’d hit smaller villages with weaker defenses.
“As you said, I’ve sent subordinates to the small villages of Count Vener’s domain.”
“Have they made contact already?”
“Yes. I attached communication magic to the magic orbs, so if they’re within range they can talk.”
“Oh.”
They even had artifacts with communication magic — more organized than I’d expected. Perhaps they were simply one case ruined by running into the protagonist? Or maybe they had an actually proper system.
“So, what happened?”
“They report a ghoul found near a small village called Meyren.”
“Meyren, huh.”
It had been mentioned fleetingly in the novel. It was a place famous for marble. The soil was poor, so it was small, but since nobility’s luxury goods came from there its income was decent. It would be a perfect target for Romulus: small population but able to hurt Vener.
“And what do you want to do?”
If I heard of it as an outsider, Vener’s men would hear soon too. That means two likely outcomes: Romulus runs again, or Vener’s men kill him. Neither is particularly good for me.
“What do you want to do? Capture him?”
Islin’s question made me think for a moment, then I shook my head.
“No. Only you and I will go.”
It hadn’t even been a few days since I absorbed the clan. Our coordination wasn’t good, and if Romulus caught any of them and turned them into ghouls, that would be more troublesome. So it was better to take only Islin.
“All right. I’ll get ready.”
Islin said she’d change into clothes more convenient for moving and left.
“Time to test its performance.”
I buckled the Dragon Scale Sword on my waist and prepared to leave.
Three years.
That damned count had imprisoned him for a full three years in the underground dungeon. Romulus had spent the past three years grinding over and over the desire to destroy Count Vener. Then, strangely, the man himself had come to free him.
The condition was simple: trigger a Shigipoak in the count’s heir—if Romulus killed Ian Impera, all of Romulus’s crimes would be wiped clean. He didn’t believe the count would keep his word, but Romulus had no reason to refuse. The count even offered to supply materials for the Shigipoak himself. All Romulus had to do was run.
Romulus prepared carefully. While he supplied Vener, he also secretly prepared a small Shigipoak of his own—one made from animal corpses. Small but enough to break Vener’s underground prison. When the count’s watch slackened, Romulus detonated the small Shigipoak he’d hidden. He became free.
Vener had warned him never to return to the domain, but like Vener, Romulus had no reason to keep promises. Once free, it was time for revenge against the count who had locked him away and treated him as a useful card. Meyren, the small village within Vener’s lands, produced marble and had a lot of watchmen and militia. Even Romulus couldn’t easily fight so many soldiers.
“Hmm.”
While pondering, he noticed a well beside a guard post. A lone watchman sat near it. Romulus picked up a stone from the ground.
“…Heave!”
Then he suddenly smashed his head hard against it. The fragile black mage’s skin tore and blood flowed freely.
Bleeding, with a broken head, Romulus staggered toward the guard. The guard saw him and shouted.
“Who are you!?”
“I—I’m a noble…! Please—save me!”
“Huh?”
Seeing Romulus’s emaciated, bleeding state, the guard lowered his guard.
“Is something wrong? Has a monster appeared nearby?”
“Uh…”
Romulus mumbled almost inaudibly. The guard leaned close to hear.
“What did you say?”
“……”
“What? Speak up! Say it louder…”
Sssht!
Suddenly, a demon-shot burst out and pierced the guard’s chest, killing him where he stood.
“Heh heh heh…”
When Romulus whispered into the dead man’s ear, the dead guard rose and wandered into the nearby forest. If a pursuit arrived, that corpse would be recognized instead of Romulus. Now there was no guard watching the well.
Having just escaped from prison with only his hands free, Romulus could still cast a poison-on-water black magic. Murmuring a chant like a baby’s babble, a drop of jet-black liquid beaded from the tip of his finger. Like a black flower blooming under clear water, an iridescent haze spread. It darkened the water slightly, but not enough to be noticed unless one looked carefully.
After the guard drank, the watch post quickly turned into a gruesome hell.
“Kraaak!”
“W-what is this…! Aaagh!”
“Grrr…!”
The watchmen became Romulus’s devoted servants. Once the guards turned into ghouls, the village fell into his hands with frightening ease. Resisting villagers were slaughtered instantly. What remained were the weak villagers without the strength or will to fight.
“W-why are the guards—!”
“My lord! Please spare us!”
“Grrah!”
“Ahhh!”
Romulus ordered the ghoulish guards to gather the villagers in one place. Those who resisted were beheaded without mercy. The villagers held each other and trembled.
“Grrr…”
“What will you do now?”
Romulus finally revealed his true self: a middle-aged man with yellow-blond hair and green eyes. Some villagers recognized him.
“Ro-Romulus?!”
“I thought Romulus was dead…!”
“Heh heh. Too bad—he’s very much alive.”
Romulus approached the man who had recognized him first.
“Father!”
“Stop! S-stay still!”
“Heh heh! How touching…”
“P-please spare us…!”
“Of course I’ll spare you! Once. But you’ll die once.”
“Damn.”
Information about Romulus reached the clan’s network last night. A report: a ghoul had been seen near a small village in Count Vener’s domain. We’d ridden through the night, but it seemed we were a bit late.
Around the peaceful village, armored ghouls prowled, scanning the area. Since their armor was intact, it seemed they’d been taken entirely by surprise.
“Are we already too late?”
I clicked my tongue in regret, and Islin replied.
“Not yet. If they’re still standing watch as ghouls, the townsfolk might still be alive inside.”
“Hmm.”
“Aaagh…”
“This is…!”
As we scanned the area, a distant scream reached us. I drew the Dragon Scale Sword from my waist.
“Are you sure? You can’t just run in like that—”
“Hmm…”
The situation was complicated. I was the heir of the Impera count family. I was on bad terms with Count Vener. If I appeared in Vener’s domain—carrying a sword—that alone could cause trouble. Rationally, it would be better to let Vener’s people be slaughtered, then take Romulus by surprise when everyone’s guard was down. After all, those people weren’t my subjects; they belonged to Count Vener.
But—
“Ahhh… please stop….”
“Tsk.”
I couldn’t be so cold-hearted to ignore those screams. He must be torturing them—for the revenge-driven corpses to be used in a Shigipoak. If we delayed, Vener’s mercenaries might arrive. Better to stop him now.
“…Right.”
Thankfully, Islin agreed with a nod.
‘I’ll get to try something too.’
I needed to test the sword Harun had struck. Islin took a magic orb from inside her robe. The thick robe hid many things without showing. “Take care of the ghouls. I’ll go straight to him.”
“All right.”
I filled the Dragon Scale Sword with mana, and it glowed blue. At the same time, Islin’s magic orb emitted a bright light. The sudden light made one ghoul turn its head.
“Grrk?”
Swish!
Before it could react, I swept the Dragon Scale Sword. The ghoul’s neck was cleanly severed. It looked as if it didn’t even understand what had happened. I quickly stuck the sword into the severed head. Ghouls can still breathe for a while after their necks are cut; if you don’t dispose of them properly it’s dangerous. I had to finish it properly.
Crack!
Nearby, Islin froze another ghoul whole inside a pillar of ice.
“You know how to deal with ghouls?”
“Of course.”
I left the watchmen-ghouls to Islin and headed straight toward the screams. Romulus had tied a villager up and was busy torturing him.
“Heh heh! Don’t you hate me with all your heart? Good—keep resenting me! Until your last breath!”
“Aaaagh!”
‘There are crazy people like that everywhere.’
Men who wouldn’t hesitate for their own pleasure—those have no hope of reform. Only death and becoming a corpse awaits them.
