Chapter 46
“Wha…!”
An elderly lady passing by overheard the exclamation, gasped in surprise, and muttered, “Young people these days… can’t behave in public…” as she shook her head and walked on.
Seeing that, the two of them exchanged a small, amused smile.
With their hearts slightly lighter, they continued strolling through the square.
As their minds eased, time, which had previously flown too quickly, now dragged like a slow-moving turtle.
Thirty minutes.
Twenty minutes.
Ten minutes.
“The culprit doesn’t seem to plan on showing up,” Iago said to Ilena, who kept glancing at the large clock embedded in the temple.
“Right? The culprit wouldn’t know the bomb planted beneath the square has been deactivated.”
Was he saying he didn’t care even if he were blown to pieces?
‘Then was this really just done out of hatred for the priestess?’
If that were the case, the hypothesis that the North was behind the terrorist would also start to waver.
“The court wizards are analyzing the traces left in the letter. We’ll catch him soon,” Ilena said calmly, nodding, though she found herself glancing at the clock tower again.
Five minutes.
Four minutes.
Three minutes.
Two minutes.
It seemed the culprit had no intention of appearing.
“My hypothesis must be wrong. Let’s return to the palace.”
“…Already?”
When Ilena said this coldly, Iago, who had been keeping his arm tightly around her, lowered his head with a slightly sulky expression.
“Bomb!!”
A loud shout rang out from somewhere in the square.
Ilena and Iago immediately turned toward the source of the sound.
A man wearing a dark blue cloak was running toward Ilena, shouting frantically.
“Bomb!! I said there’s a bomb!! Why are you here!! You’ll be blown to pieces, heart and all!”
The lively square fell silent in an instant. Everyone stopped in their tracks.
Then…
“What? What bomb?”
“Who’s talking nonsense while eating their meal?”
People, who had briefly stopped to watch the shouting man, soon returned to their business.
It was a typical reaction from the peaceful citizens of Rihu, where even the word ‘terrorism’ barely existed.
“Hurry… aaagh!”
The man running toward Ilena collapsed onto the ground. It was Iago.
The man, restrained by Iago’s strong arms, looked at Ilena and Iago in disbelief.
One minute left.
“No! Let go of this! If you don’t, we’ll all die together!”
The man, face pressed against the ground, screamed like a madman.
Ilena squatted calmly in front of him, looking down with a composed expression.
“Really? Then let’s all die together.”
Seeing her calm demeanor, the man flailed and screamed:
“It’s a bomb! Really, really! Nooo! I’m scared! Stoppp!!”
Thirty seconds.
“Oh my, is that really not true?”
“Wow, this person… how can someone take a joke this seriously?”
The desperate thrashing caused onlookers to stop again, murmuring among themselves.
Twenty seconds.
Ten seconds.
“It’s over… I’m finished now.”
Five seconds.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Ghh!”
The man tightly shut his eyes.
Ilena and Iago looked down at him with calm expressions.
“Ahh! Hhh! Ugh! …Huh?”
The man, still trembling violently, peeked one eye open.
As expected, nothing happened.
“See? No bomb at all.”
“Right. Who would really plant a bomb in the square? That’s evil even to imagine.”
“Honestly, what a ridiculous person.”
The onlookers, briefly tense from the man’s panic, returned to their tasks.
The man, still pinned under Iago’s large hand, muttered miserably:
“Wh-what is… this…”
“The bomb has been deactivated,” Iago said calmly.
“We’ve essentially received your confession. You are hereby arrested on the spot as a criminal.”
The terrorist was immediately imprisoned in the underground dungeon beneath the royal palace.
“Why did you do such a thing?” Ilena asked, glaring at him through the bars.
“I wanted to try it at least once. Terrorism, I mean.”
“That’s all the reason you have?”
The man, chuckling unpleasantly through his disheveled hair, spat on the floor.
“You’re a witch. Witches like you should be burned to death.”
Clang!
Iago struck the iron bars with the sheath of his sword, the sound echoing through the dungeon.
The man jumped back in shock.
“How dare…! Watch your words.”
Seeing Iago’s thick forearm beneath his draped toga, the man was silenced.
He stopped chuckling, looked once at Iago, and then at Ilena.
“…So the ridiculous rumor about the Dark King and the priestess being in love… was true, huh?”
“That’s none of your business,” Ilena snapped.
The man’s face twisted in irritation.
“Girls… all they do is lose their heads over handsome foreign men.”
Ilena quickly blocked Iago’s raised arm holding the sheath.
The man, still cowering in fear, continued muttering.
“All because of women like you… I can’t even stretch out my power anywhere…”
Huh?
Ilena tilted her head curiously. Iago, next to her, was huffing in excitement.
But Ilena wasn’t upset—she had heard similar words many times.
‘It’s been a while since I’ve heard this repertoire. Yeah, first time since coming to the island.’
“Interrogating him now would be pointless.”
Iago firmly led her away, clearly not wanting her to deal with the man.
“If he stays in solitary confinement, he’ll come to his senses. Let’s go, Ilena.”
“…Okay.”
“What? Solitary confinement? No way! Hey! How dare you ignore me, little girl?”
‘Something feels off…’
Ilena had a nagging feeling she was missing something important.
She watched the man, who continued to insult only her, and quietly exited the dungeon.
Contrary to their expectations that he would speak soon, days passed, and the man remained silent.
Despite continuous questioning about who was behind him, he shamelessly insisted, “I just hated the priestess.”
Even without his confession, it was obvious the North was involved.
However, for an official protest to the North, physical evidence like the culprit’s confession was necessary.
A nation cannot act on mere suspicion in international agreements.
This caused a small quarrel between Ilena and Iago.
Ilena muttered loudly, seemingly to be heard by Iago beside her:
“Ah, just a little torture would do it…”
“No.”
“Just four claws…”
“No.”
“Then one toenail?”
“No means no.”
Iago, as firm as ever, left no room for argument.
“Sigh… Iago, these days, people like harsh justice… it’s the trend.”
“Harsh justice? What’s that?”
Ilena, disappointed, listed all sorts of inhumane methods—threats using family, cruel torture removing body parts, water torture leaving no marks.
“Iago, I’ve realized something through the war,” he said seriously, shaking his head.
“When dealing with monsters, we must be careful not to become monsters ourselves.”
“Monsters? What’s that?”
“Violence can’t be countered with violence endlessly. We must punish wrongdoing, but strive to maintain our humanity.”
Iago calmly tried to reason with her.
Ilena understood, but sulked anyway.
“Humanitarian methods take too long. If you just pluck a few claws…”
“No.”
“Yeah, I’m the fool… no, the monster.”
Ilena sighed dramatically.
Iago gave a knowing smile, seemingly understanding her completely.
He spoke gently:
“The truth is, Ilena, you don’t really want to torture him either.”
She may have complained, but she was a person raised normally in a democratic society. Sudden gory torture wouldn’t appeal to her, even in a novel.
“Don’t laugh. You’ll get attached.”
Ilena quickly turned away from him.
“Let’s wait calmly a bit longer. He’ll speak soon.”
Iago caught up within a few steps, holding her hand, chuckling:
“…Okay. I’ll wait a bit.”
Ilena sighed reluctantly.
After all, living in the busy modern world, she had always been impatient. This was a good chance to practice patience and wait a few days.
“No! I can’t wait!”
Ilena shouted.
“I forgot I used to be a cold, impatient person. I’m just going to torture him!”
“…It’s only been a day since you said we’d wait, Ilena.”
Even Iago’s calm words couldn’t calm her. She tugged at her hair anxiously.
“But we need his confession, punish the North, and also…”
“I always notice… Ilena is too impatient.”
Iago shook his head and muttered, “And because of the terrorist incident, we haven’t had our ‘Happiness Operation!’ in a while,” before disappearing.
The next day, he led her to the garden, where a bald old man sat cross-legged on a yoga mat, his expression gentle and serene.
