Sword Pilgrim-Chapter 82

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She was a woman with multiple personalities.

And among them was a priestess of the Whip God.

“Beatrice.”

“Demon core, I found one. There’s a lot of other stuff useful research materials, too.”

She said, casually.

She seemed to think that Callius hadn't noticed anything yet, so she was pretending as if she’d merely been following through on her promise.

“… Good job.”

There were many questions Callius wanted to ask her.

But he didn't.

Even though she’d been the one who’d persuaded him to raid the basement of the Artemion mansion.

Even though she’d been the one to first encourage, and then ultimately kill Viole.

Despite all the trouble he’d had to go through as a result –

Callius didn't ask any questions.

‘Maria is a pilgrim who worships the sword.'

Her divine power should’ve also been from the same origin as Callius.

And yet, she had two personalities in one body, and strangely, she could hold two divinities.

Faith springs from your heart and mind being offered to God.

Perhaps because she had different minds when she was Maria versus when she was Beatrice?

She was one being capable of serving two Gods.

But the Whip God had been forgotten since a long time ago.

Auste, the God of the Whip.

As his follower, Beatrice was most likely a member of Krasion.

Because Krasion itself was a group of such old-fashioned people.

Krasion…

Callius didn’t have a good impression of one its elders, Ramatu, but as a whole, it wasn’t an organization that was his enemy.

Was this ruined country so attractive, that so many of their people had congregated here?

But indeed, there were many uses for such people. Even if they were believers of a heretic faith.

Cedric was a fine example.

As for Beatrice, her ability to make money was apparent at a glance from the her laboratory.

Who knew if she might get spooked and run away if Callius acted rashly?

He was fine with waiting a while before he had to show his hand.

Kieeeeeeeng!

Placing Vivi down on the ground, Beatrice opened the metal box behind her and showed the demon core that lay inside.

The demon core, was just as its name suggested.

A lump of condensed demonic energy.

As if a drop of poison had been mixed inside a dollop of blood, and the mixture had curdled into a jelly-like texture.

A bloody smell wafted from it, and the ominous fluctuations that characterized demonic magic spread all around.

Click.

Callius immediately closed the box.

“I hope you won’t take it out while Vivi’s nearby.”

“Ah, that’s right. I'll be careful.”

The magic of demon cores can drive demonic beasts into a frenzy. It’d become a big problem if Vivi swallowed it by accident, so they had to handle it carefully.

“I’m glad we finally found it. Can you start your work right away?”

“Yes. With this, extracting the blood essence won’t be particularly difficult. Considering the time for trial and error, maybe three months at the earliest? If it's late, like I said, it'll be about a year. It might go faster, because the demon core is in such good condition.”

It was good news.

After the dragon blood extraction finished, Callius would be able to have her work on the troll potion issue right away.

Of course, before that, he’d have to get her completely on his side.

“Then… what next?”

Was she asking how they’d handle the aftermath?

Alright. Let’s match her pace, for now.

“Viole is dead.”

And Callius had gotten all he needed.

Not just the demon core, but he even got some information on the God of the Whip.

The fact that Beatrice was a follower of Auste, was an unexpected harvest.

Unlike the followers of other Gods, although it was difficult to annihilate the people of Auste, it wasn’t difficult to embrace them.

“I see. Then what’re you going to do now? Count Artemion wouldn’t stand still.”

“I’d already informed the army before coming here. The Church too, so they’ll all be here soon.”

“He might not be able to make any waves right now. But would you be okay with just that? Since he’s lost his son, he might prove to be quite troublesome in the future.”

As she said, just exposing the circumstances here wouldn’t be enough.

This alone wasn’t sufficient for Artemion to be beheaded.

‘He’ll just pay a fine, at most.'

Raising magic beasts was a common secret hobby for nobles.

But if ‘it’ was fund here, things would play out a bit differently.

“What do you mean, ‘it’?”

“An axe.”

An axe that Callius had brought with him, just in case.

Of course, it was no ordinary axe.

Just one of these appearing here would ensure that the investigation would no longer be a cursory one.

Then the rest would be easy.

“Who are you, to arrest me?!”

“Captain of the Third Inquisitorial Squad, Orcal. Hello, Count Artemion.”

The count's mansion had been besieged, and inhabitants captured, by the Kingdom Army and the Heretic Inquisition.

Artemion shouted, aggrieved.

“My son is dead!! And you're still arresting me?”

The mansion's basement had been devastated by an attack, and his son had been nurdered.

He didn’t get any time to mourn, and instead had to face the attacks of the Royal Army and the Heretic Inquisition, so Artemion had no choice but to become indignant.

“Do you recognize this?”

“That… isn't that just an axe?!! How dare you wave something like that at me!”

A young-looking man with a youthful face.

Orcal, captain of the third squad.

Naturally, Artemion knew of him.

It was his first time seeing the man face to face, but he’d heard rumours about him over the years.

A heretic inquisitor who dealt with worms.

A naive man, who despite his prowess with the sword was often overlooked as an inquisitor-captain compared to his peers.

Artemion had heard that the cause was more his youthful face and personality, not so much his actual age.

However –

“Be quiet.”

“… !”

At Orcal's calm order, Count Artemion automatically shut his mouth.

A cold sweat trickled down his spine.

‘He's calmer than I’d thought he’d be. No, the atmosphere’s changed a bit since earlier.'

Orcal’s countenance had changed a little bit since a while ago.

Previously, there’d been a trace of frivolity, but now he looked completely serious.

“No. This is a carcass. Of an ugly barbarian, at that.”

“Wh-, what!?”

A barbarian devotee of the Axe God.

His carcass, would be something only an orc would carry.

It’d come from the basement of his mansion.

The fact struck Artemion like a thunderbolt, but he had no way to disprove it.

“It’s not something we can ignore. And you’ve illegally bred and traded demonic beasts, on top of that.”

“… What does it matter? You also know, most nobles raise and kill these beasts for fun.”

It was a shameful secret to bring to light, but it was true.

If it was just about breeding demonic beasts, it'd just be a matter of paying a fine or something similar.

Yes.

If it was just a simple matter of breeding demonic beasts.

“Not long ago, a war had broken out in the North, starting with a massive surprise attack by the orcs. At that time, the orcs had used tamed beasts to fill their lack of numbers and mobility.”

“What do you –!”

Traces of breeding demonic beasts that’d been uncovered at the basement.

And the axe that had appeared there.

“Were you really that short of money? To even help the orcs, one of the ancient enemies of our kingdom…”

“Th-, this is slander! Entrapment!!”

“Shut up! You traitor!!”

When Orcal’s slow and careful speech was interrupted, his face distorted like a monster, and his roar reverberated throughout the mansion.

The voice filled with the power of an inquisitor-captain resonated throughout the body of everybody in the audience, and evoked a certain sense of fear.

Count Artemion, who’d been looking down on him at heart, was dumbstruck.

Click! Click! Click!!

Sharp swords were unsheathed by the heretic inquisitors who’d been escorting Orcal, and aimed at Artemion's neck.

Gulp.

Artemion calmed himself down.

Despite his intense emotions, he knew he had to keep his cool if he wanted to live.

Otherwise, his head might get chopped off here and now.

‘Who is it? Who the hell would do this?'

He’d bribed everybody he needed to bribe, so which piece of shit still wasn’t satisfied!

It was a very depressing thought, but he now had to escape this situation somehow.

Otherwise, he would really die here.

No, his family itself might disappear.

“Th-, this is entrapment. Even if an orcish axe was found, it really doesn’t have anything to do with me. Someone must’ve put it there on purpose! I demand a proper investigation.”

“Of course. We have a special guest, for that very reason.”

“Who is it…?”

Thwock, thwock.

The sound of heavy boots reverberated through the silence that engulfed the mansion.

At the front yard –

Where all the captured people of the mansion’s household were kneeling –

And the soldiers of the army as well as the heretic inquisitors stood, armed, side by side –

Black hair fluttering in the night wind.

Indifferent grey eyes.

An aristocrat who seemed to have come out of a painting.

It was Callius von Jervain.

“Callius…?”

Why was he here?

At the same moment as the question arose, events from the past flashed through Artemion’s mind like a panorama.

Viole meeting Callius.

Debt. Demon beast. Axe. North. Hero!

They puzzle pieces came together and interlocked, forming the appearance of Callius.

Suddenly, Artemion's face contorted with anger.

“Callius you cur!! So it was you?!”

“Don’t scream, it’s disrespectful.”

Crack!

Orcal struck Artemion, who was about to struggle to his feet despite being tied up, and forced him to kneel back down.

Callius scanned the crowd, and pointed the sword in his hand at him.

A transparent sword with a blue glow.

A sword that seemed to contain the moonlight of the night sky.

Judgment Sword – Medea.

“Oh, the sword of the Judge…”

Artemion had only had a momentary burst of anger.

But now that he remembered the spreading rumours about the Judge, and his sword –

Fear gripped him in its claws.

Fear rising from instinct.

“Count Artemion.”

The heavy voice pressed down on his shoulders.

“…”

No one in this world was pure.

Who could dare say they were unstained by sin?

Corruption.

Fraud.

Nobility who lived without dabbling into such things were a tiny minority.

Especially if they were a noble of this kingdom which had already started its journey into the path of ruin.

Therefore, Artemion couldn’t directly face the cold eyes of Callius looking down at him.

He, too, had originally been a citizen of Carpe, and had been proud of his own country as a nobleman.

Yet, he could only mourn and lament at the country’s slow collapse, and his resentment at the jeers of the empire had only grown with the times.

Just by closing his eyes and ignoring some things, his wife and children could live in better safety and comfort. That was how he’d stepped on this path, and walked further and further.

Before being a noble, he was the father of his still immature children, and the husband of a wife who did not love him but was full of care and warmth.

He closed his eyes.

Then, and now.

The act of closing his eyes remained the same, but the problem he was facing was completely different.

“You, have you ever colluded with the empire?”

In response to the single question from Callius –

Artemion bowed his head.

The bowed head spoke not, only deepening the silence.

The sharp sword broke the stillness.

It was on a night of the full moon, without a single cloud in the sky.

A count of the kingdom, passed away.

“Extra issue[1]! Extra issue!!”

As the newspaper boy excited ran everywhere, a dramatic reaction spread through those who read the news.

The nobles gulped silently, and the commoners smiled cheerfully.

[A Sinner has been Judged].

“Count Artemion, beheaded by the Judge? Hey~ Now that he’s a count, he cut off the head of another count. Snicker snack! It's really funny. Isn’t it?”

“A man is dead. It's not that funny.”

“You’re so stiff. This is what I was talking about.”

Helena and Esther were chatting over tea on a cafe terrace. After this brief exchange of words, each of them fell into their own thoughts.

Their thoughts naturally drifted towards the same person.

“I heard that there was some discussion about his appointment as an inquisitor-captain.”

“Why? He should just take office quickly. I'm sure he’ll be able to catch and beat up all the traitorous nobles.”

Originally, the Church couldn’t treat the nobles of the kingdom too harshly. Even the heretic inquisitors had to behave within their limits.

Politics and religion were completely different things.

However, Callius was both a pilgrim of the Order as well as a count.

So the problem was something else.

“He’s still just a pilgrim after all. Like me, a pilgrim who couldn’t find a sword to spend the rest of his life with.”

Moreover, there was no precedent for a pilgrim to become an inquisitor in the first place.

“They’re fighting each other saying that there’s no precedent for any of this. It’s pretty obvious if you know where to look.”

As Helena said –

Within the Church, the moderates and the radicals were deadlocked in an intense struggle.

Editor's Notes:

[1] 호외 (號外, hooe) are special newspaper issues, sold or distributed on the streets to deliver news of high public interest, from disasters to sports results.