Chapter 81 …
No answer came. However, the black figures slowly stirred and closed the distance.
“D-dear.”
Henri’s voice trembled as he called Eveline. Even with his poor imagination, he understood what those things were.
“Grrr…”
“Graaah…”
“Th-those are corpses!”
They came into the range of the torchlight. They were indeed corpses. The zombies approaching them gave off a foul stench, and unlike the ones they had seen underground, these were visibly rotting.
Without even gagging, Eveline calmly counted the items she had brought. One bottle of holy water remained. Only three black swords were left.
Looking at her husband, frozen in fear at the sight of the zombies, Eveline made her decision.
“Dear.”
“H-huh?”
Eveline tossed the torch aside, pulled the cork from the bottle, and splashed its contents onto her husband. The sudden dousing with cold water snapped Henri back to his senses.
“You’ll be safe until it dries. I’ll deal with this quickly.”
The zombies had already reached them. Eveline threw one of the swords behind the zombies and firmly gripped one of the remaining two before swinging it.
The tip of the sword traced a half-circle. In a narrow corridor, swinging a sword would normally be difficult, but such restrictions seemed not to exist for Eveline. In fact, she used the tight space to her advantage, blocking one side of the passage alone and stopping the wave of zombies from advancing.
“Eek!”
Henri gasped when he saw white skeletal hands rising from the floor.
The sight of the bones groping around as if searching for the living was grotesque.
Holy water could block zombies controlled by dark magic, but it could not prevent illusions created outside.
Eveline had no fear in this situation, so illusions could not invade her mind—but Henri was different.
It was hard to remain sane when the sounds of fabric being sliced and things being smashed rang endlessly around him.
He was already terrified, and fear made him far more susceptible to hallucinations.
Henri’s teeth clattered together, and Eveline noticed her husband’s condition.
“Dear, God is watching over us. There’s no need to be afraid.”
Her clear voice echoed through the dark corridor.
Henri took a deep breath.
He believed in God’s existence—but he did not believe in divine salvation. It was doctors, not gods or priests, who saved the sick.
No matter how much a sick person prayed, God never performed miracles.
But…
In a trembling voice, Henri finally spoke.
“I believe you.”
He did not believe in a god who never appeared. But he could not help believing in his wife, who was struggling in the darkness.
The long-held distrust that had begun with the suspicion that Rachel might not be his daughter finally ended. All those doubts had originated from his own mind. Henri decided he would no longer doubt his wife’s words.
Only then did he begin to calm down.
Looking around carefully, he noticed that near the torch Eveline had thrown behind them, there was nothing there.
“Hoo… Hah…”
Henri lifted his heels so the skeletal hands wouldn’t grab him and moved toward the torch. When he picked it up and light illuminated the ground beneath him, the white skeletal hands disappeared.
They had been hallucinations.
Eveline had been right—darkness made it easier to fall prey to illusions.
“The weak one… is myself.”
Henri gripped the torch tightly and murmured.
He was an ordinary man who had never encountered the monsters said to live in the frontier, nor any bandits.
Having suddenly come face-to-face with monsters, it was impossible for courage to suddenly surge within him.
But the one fighting those monsters was his beloved wife.
Summoning courage he didn’t even know he had, Henri walked toward where she was fighting.
Rotting chunks of flesh lay scattered across the floor, writhing. The disgusting sight made him want to vomit, but he forced himself to keep holding the torch forward instead of turning his head away.
Eveline’s sword did not stop. Reflecting the torchlight, it gleamed crimson as it separated the zombies’ upper bodies from their lower halves. The severed upper bodies piled up on the floor and writhed, but Eveline crushed their heads with the heel of her shoe. Rotten brain matter splattered, yet Eveline paid it no mind and continued smashing other heads and fingers.
Watching her mechanical, repetitive movements—like a waterwheel endlessly turning—Henri realized something.
The zombies were slower than he had expected.
He almost laughed at himself for trembling in fear just because of how they looked.
“Eveline, I’ll handle the hands.”
If she had to stomp on them, it would be more efficient for her to swing her sword again instead.
Henri made the quick judgment and burned the zombies’ hands with the torch.
Once touched by fire, the zombies’ hands stopped moving. Seeing this, Eveline tightened her grip on her sword.
“Then I’ll trust you.”
After that, Eveline focused solely on swinging her sword. She kicked away the heads to prevent them from biting and left the hands to Henri.
As Henri burned the zombie hands with the torch, he suddenly heard someone retreating from the far end of the corridor.
“Someone’s over there!”
“The one behind all this is escaping!”
The number of zombies was not infinite. It seemed the dark mage had begun to flee after realizing the zombies could not stop Eveline and Henri.
“Shouldn’t we chase him?”
“It’s fine.”
Rachel’s request had been to rescue Henri.
Eveline suppressed the urge to pursue the dark mage and finished off the remaining zombies.
“I hear water over there. Let’s leave.”
Perhaps the dark mage had opened the exit while escaping—because the sound of rain could now be heard. Only then did Eveline firmly take Henri’s hand and head outside the building.
The exit connected to a building opposite the one they had entered.
When Eveline and Henri emerged, it was dark outside. Even as rain poured down on him, Henri clasped his hands together in joy.
“We made it out alive!”
At Henri’s cheer, the sound of clanking metal echoed nearby. Thinking they were people chasing him, Henri tensed, but soon a silver-haired young man appeared, leading a small group of knights.
“Lady Eveline!”
“We lost him.”
Facing Enoch, Eveline let out those words like a sigh.
“A dark mage just escaped this way.”
At her explanation, Enoch looked around—but it was already too late.
Soldiers and knights in silver armor surrounded the building.
Rachel watched the scene from inside a carriage before turning her head.
Across from her sat Henri wrapped in a blanket, with Eveline tightly holding him.
“There was a dark mage?”
“Yes. But we were too busy escaping and missed him.”
“That’s alright. Actually, I’m surprised they prepared that much.”
Rachel bit her thumbnail.
An unexpected big player had been involved here.
It’s the one who attacked me before with Crow.
Abyss, who had come with her, clenched his fists so tightly that the veins bulged.
From the report that dozens of corpses had been controlled, he guessed the opponent was the dark mage he had been searching for.
I didn’t know they were this closely connected!
Since even the Information Guild had failed to uncover the man’s identity despite searching, he assumed the mage would remain deeply hidden. He had never imagined the man would personally move to kill Henri, who had only just become a baron.
“Can you remember anything else?”
At Rachel’s question, Henri rolled his eyes in thought.
“Th-the Viscount Noema called him ‘Hel.’”
“Hel, huh…”
“And his accent sounded quite aristocratic. I think he must have grown up in an old noble family.”
Even when using the same language and writing system, word choice and accents differed depending on region and status. Though it had been brief, Henri had heard Hel’s speech and thought him the child of a long-established noble house.
Other than that, the information was mostly the same as what they had learned through Rekeia.
“Then we’ll have no choice but to capture Viscount Noema and interrogate him.”
Outside the carriage, the knights began to move.
Only after soldiers sealed off the surroundings so tightly that not even a rat could escape did the knights begin entering the club.
The Silver Knights—made up of Enoch and knights from the temple—were virtually the strongest force when it came to fighting dark magic.
Even if some moving corpses remained and attacked, they would not be in danger.
Arresting the people inside the building ended quickly. Viscount Noema was dragged out by soldiers as well.
“Multiple corpses have been discovered inside the building.”
“Some are known to be missing persons…”
“There are traces of dark magic…”
Reports from the soldiers continued.
Enoch carefully examined the faces of those who had been subdued.
Rachel and Abyss also stepped out of the carriage and checked their faces. There were people from many professions—doctors, judges, mathematicians, poets, philosophers, even theologians.
They were well-educated individuals capable of exerting great influence on society.
No one knew why they had been fascinated by dark magic, but if left alone, they were the kind of people who would have greatly helped Damien become king.
Abyss approached Viscount Noema and grabbed him by the collar. The viscount, kneeling with his hands tied by rope, was pulled up by Abyss.
“I know a dark mage escaped. Who is he?”
“A dark mage? We merely held a social gathering. I have no idea why the Silver Knights are persecuting us.”
Viscount Noema said this while looking at Enoch.
“Fourth Prince, have we somehow offended you?”
From the beginning, the viscount refused to admit anything. The people captured here were influential figures in their fields. It seemed he intended to deny everything and leave a stain on Enoch’s reputation.
“Don’t make me laugh! With the building reeking of dark magic, do you think that excuse will work?”
“Dark magic traces? How would we know anything about that? Perhaps the Silver Knights fabricated it.”
“Multiple corpses were found. They are people who previously went missing in the capital.”
“I know nothing about that.”
Even at Enoch’s words, Viscount Noema kept denying everything.
“I’ll make you confess!”
Abyss pulled something from his coat.
Rachel recognized it.
A confession drug. Looks like he managed to get it from Karion somehow.
It was the same drug Rachel had once been forced to take, making her blurt out all sorts of things.
Perhaps Abyss was too impatient—he immediately tried to force the drug into Viscount Noema’s mouth.
The viscount, seemingly recognizing what the drug was, clamped his mouth shut.
“Open your mouth!”
“Mmph!”
Abyss forced the viscount’s mouth open. After pouring the drug in, he held the man’s head and jaw so he couldn’t spit it out.
“Swallow!”
Finally, the viscount’s throat moved.
Only then did Abyss release him and press the interrogation.
“What is the dark mage’s identity? Which family does he belong to?!”
But Viscount Noema did not answer.
The moment Abyss let go, he bit down on his own tongue and tore it off.
The tongue, not completely severed, dangled loosely. Even while writhing in pain, Viscount Noema gulped and laughed. His pronunciation was too unclear to understand what he had just said.
“You lunatic!”
Enoch hurriedly pushed the furious Abyss aside and infused divine power into the viscount. His tongue reattached itself.
“Why did you do that?”
“To grant Lamia’s wish!”
At those words, everyone froze.
Lamia—was the name of the First Queen who had died long ago.
She had also been the mother of the deceased Crown Prince, and of Karion and Enoch.
