CHAPTER 100…………………………
Until now, every saint recorded in the Holy Scriptures was incapable of lying — because those who are called by God must remain pure.
If that child truly is a saint, and everything she says is true, then what in the world has Rustian Pellington done?
Other things could perhaps be overlooked.
After all, everyone knows there are few nobles whose records are perfectly clean.
But the words “children locked in prison” and “drugs” were far too grave to ignore.
There were certain crimes the Empire considered among the most heinous — those involving children, human trafficking, and the distribution of drugs.
If even the slightest link between narcotics and trafficking appeared, the Emperor himself would intervene to personally uncover every detail.
Once the Emperor got involved, no outside influence could touch the investigation — not relatives, not in-laws, not even the faintest acquaintance.
Every single person even remotely connected would be turned inside out and interrogated.
Realizing how serious the situation was, the priests fell into dead silence.
As the priests quieted down, the soldiers followed suit — and finally, cold sweat began trickling down Rustian Pellington’s face as he shouted from where he stood.
“You’re all seriously believing the words of that lying little bastard? The brat who demanded money for saving people’s lives?!”
Rustian pointed at the child, his voice breaking with fury.
“Tell me I’m wrong! Go on, say it!”
“Sniff… but… Uncle looked so sad…! See? Uncle’s so weak! Everyone’s being mean to him! He tried so hard!”
Someone, at just the right moment, handed the sniffling little girl — Esther — a handkerchief.
When she lifted her head slightly, she saw Siderius smiling kindly at her.
Feeling oddly guilty, Esther turned away and buried her face in the handkerchief, pressing hard around her eyes — wanting them to look as red and teary as possible.
When she looked up again, Siderius was gone.
Her eyes now rosy, Esther glared at the crowd.
“If you’re gonna make my uncle sad, then at least pay up!”
(Of course, they’d split the money fifty-fifty.)
At her words, the priests and soldiers began murmuring again.
After all, no one thought people who could raise the dead deserved to be treated poorly.
“Right! So, ten million Myron!”
Esther blew her nose noisily into the handkerchief, holding out her other hand.
“A-ah, but ten million Myron is a bit…”
“Y-yeah, that’s too much.”
“Y-you wouldn’t really want that, would you? We’ll be more careful from now on…”
In truth, if Kardem went on strike and took the money, the ones who would suffer weren’t the priests or nobles — it would be the soldiers.
“That’s what you get for talking like that to the man who saved your life!”
“Weren’t those men already long dead? If he brought them back, he’s basically a god!”
“How many people were saved just today, thanks to him?!”
In an instant, the atmosphere flipped. Those who had just grabbed Kardem by the collar and insulted him were now glaring at the soldier who had done the same.
“I-I was just— you all said the same—!”
“Quiet! Do you have ten million Myron? Well, do you?!”
“……”
The entire situation turned upside down in seconds.
Kardem simply stared blankly. He had never seen anything like it.
If he saved lives, he was called a monster; if he didn’t, he was a sinner. There was no escaping that cage.
He lowered his head and looked at the girl beside him.
It was hard to believe that this entire scene had been caused by a ten-year-old child.
With just a few words, she had silenced those who had cursed him moments ago.
The frame that had confined him all his life had shattered.
Kardem had never thought of rebelling — the rules had always seemed natural to him.
Power wasn’t meant to be hoarded.
Power had to be shared.
Power had to be used only according to the will of the Pope and of God.
But the child told him to keep it — and even put a price on it, an astronomical one.
“We’ll be careful from now on…”
The people who had always stood above him now spoke meekly, gauging his reaction.
“Hmph… Then will you speak nicely from now on?”
“O-of course! Of course we will! We promise!”
“We’ll even say thank you every time!”
At Esther’s words, they all nodded and murmured their agreement.
Hmm… but still, doing it for free forever seems a bit much…
Esther rubbed her chin thoughtfully.
“Okay! From now on, people who talk nicely — ten thousand Myron! Cheap, right? Cheap!”
“T-ten… ten thousand Myron?”
“Yup! Five thousand for light injuries, ten thousand for worse ones, fifteen thousand for serious ones!”
The monthly salary of an Imperial soldier was around two hundred thousand Myron — more if they were stationed in a dangerous region like this one.
So yes, it was expensive, but not impossible — not when it was the price of one’s life.
“T-then what about… bringing back the dead?”
“Hmm…”
Esther looked at Kardem and rubbed her chin again.
“Thirty.”
The murmurs grew louder.
Truthfully, it was a bargain — but to those who had always gotten it for free, it stung all the same.
“Well, if you don’t like it, you can just… not die! Or not get revived! Oh, and we take advance payment for future deaths, too! Come by the tent anytime! And the drug guy — go wash your neck!”
“You little brat— you think you can toy with adults?!”
Rustian grabbed Esther by the scruff of her neck and lifted her off the ground.
“If you let bastards like this run wild, you’ll all end up as fools! How dare this filthy bastard, living off our family’s charity, act above his station?!”
Esther’s face darkened.
Syphon noticed the faint red glint starting to appear in the girl’s eyes — her face went pale. She quickly took a step forward.
“‘Above her station’? You dare talk about station, insect? Which of us doesn’t know their place?”
“Indeed, Father. Seems there are still fools begging to have their lifelines cut short.”
The cold voice that rang from behind made Esther flinch.
“Captain Kaelos!”
The priests’ faces lit up with relief.
The man before them wore a white priest’s robe, now drenched in dark red and black — like a messenger of death straight from hell.
“I step away for one moment after cleaning up the field… and either I’ve gone mad, or I’m seeing something insane.”
His fierce voice sliced through the air.
“You. What exactly are you doing to my daughter?”
His sharp gaze landed on the man.
“I was merely teaching this bastard some manners! She dares use the Eggbert name—”
“Was that your answer to my question?”
Before the man could finish, a flash of silver streaked past.
It was so fast that no one even saw the afterimage. Esther felt her body drop suddenly — even though she could still feel the man’s hand gripping her neck.
“AAAAAAGH!”
“Esther.”
Amid the terrible scream, a gentle voice called her name — and her falling body was caught in strong arms.
“…Father?”
“Yes, my dear.”
The man holding her was covered in dust and blood. The smell of war clung to him — it was clear he hadn’t rested in a long time.
Behind him stood Larksa, dressed in the same formal military attire.
His lips curved faintly, but his eyes were cold and sharp — his displeasure evident.
In his hand, he held a severed arm. Slowly, he began snapping its fingers one by one with a smile.
“Aaaaagh!”
Esther turned to see Rustian Pellington, face drained of all color, screaming as he stared in horror at the arm that had once been his.
“This child is now officially registered as an heir of House Eggbert.”
“W-what is this?! What have you done?! Aaaagh! H-heir?! You mean that lowborn bastard of unknown blood?!”
Crack—
Crunch—
Bones snapped and splintered.
Larksa, still smiling pleasantly, was crushing Rustian Pellington’s severed arm in his bare hand — grinding it to pulp.
Even though the arm was already gone and he shouldn’t have been able to feel pain, Rustian couldn’t tear his eyes away — screaming as if his soul itself were being crushed.
Everyone watched in frozen silence, horrified by the sight.
“My apologies,” Larksa said with a pleasant smile, tossing the mangled arm to the floor. “It’s a shame… I can’t quite do the same to your neck.”
