Chapter 209 - When Rising Again (2)

The darkness was growing heavier.

The corridor, where not a single torch hung to make it easy to make out the surroundings, revealed its pitch-black interior the deeper he went, and it had now become so dark that it was difficult to even discern the person right in front of him.

In such darkness, Joseph was in a position akin to a blind man with his eyes open.

"Can you not see ahead?"

"... I cannot."

At Joseph's words that he could not see ahead, a blue ghost fire rose from the pitch-black darkness.

It was an amount of light woefully insufficient to illuminate the surroundings, but it was at least enough to allow him to make out the silhouette of the one who had lit it.

"It seems you haven't taken enough of the dosage yet."

A man with an empty helmet resting where his neck should be.

The headless knight, who had kidnapped children in Arnstein's territory, unhesitatingly thrust his chilling gaze at Joseph.

"Even though the permeating stench is already thick."

At the sight of him acting as if he were sniffing, Joseph could not help but tense up.

It was because he realized what the headless one was currently checking on him.

"You don't have a face, yet it seems you can smell."

"Because it is not a smell detected by the nose."

He tried hard to act composed, but there was nothing he could do about the trembling at the end of his words.

Watching such a Joseph, the blue ghost fire reflecting inside the helmet curved coldly.

"The rotten stench that stems from death is smelled through the soul, not the body, Joseph of Bayezid."

The smell of a rotting soul was surely far more intense than the corpse stench emitted by a rotting body.

Having confirmed such a terrible smell from Joseph, the headless knight turned his body again and began taking the lead down the narrow corridor.

"That tea is the grace bestowed by Lamashtu, so drink it diligently. If you truly do not wish to reach death."

CREAK!

With those words, the darkness began to open a door from the tips of the headless knight's fingers.

It was a door that had been right in front of him but remained unseen, and it was also a door imbued with a curse that one could not escape from alone.

"Enter. She is waiting."

"..."

The trace of the corrupted saintess, which no one in the church had been able to find until now because the living could never reach it.

However, looking at the door that revealed its form only to him, who stood on the threshold of death, Joseph quietly exhaled.

* * *

"Has Sir Vlad not woken up yet?"

"That is correct, Count."

The Count's exhale of a sigh was as complicated as the messy state of his study.

At the Count's face, which was hard to console with any words, Pablo merely bowed his head.

"I gladly welcomed them as guests from a distant place, yet one is in a coma and the other has outright destroyed my territory before leaving."

The Count's back looked pathetic as he squatted in front of the fireplace, spitting out complaints.

If Pablo had known that the firewood the Count was currently holding was the remains of his long-cherished desk, he would have felt that patheticness twice as much.

"It is truly distressing that things are like this from the start of the new year."

But what could he do?

The incident had already happened, and since there were many enemies targeting him, he had no choice but to move without rest.

Thrusting the remains of the chestnut wood he was holding into the fireplace with lingering attachment, the Count stood in front of a pile roughly stacked with books and picked up a quill pen.

"Just as the man named Sandor said, we can leave the matters related to Joseph Bayezid to the Northern Alliance, right?" "That is correct. They will likely hope for us to do so as well."

"Good. Make sure to thoroughly collect the compensation money even if it's later."

It was a very sensitive issue that the second son of Bayezid, a great house of the North, had joined hands with a wicked entity.

To nobles, honor was important, and the resulting reputation was like a certificate of guarantee, so it was a matter that Bayezid had to resolve on its own even if he did not push them.

"Since we have roughly settled the territory's affairs, the problem we must resolve from now on is the matter concerning Vlad Aureo. Have you investigated as I told you?"

Strength returned once again to the Count's eyes as he looked at Pablo.

Count Arnstein, the leader of the central region and at the forefront of the Court Duke faction, had already heard of the value possessed by the knight named Vlad through Rodrigo of the Imperial Enforcers.

"Yes. I have investigated as you commanded."

A knight who was not of his bloodline, but might have inherited his will.

In a way, it could be an absurd claim, but the Court Duke wanted to confirm it, and the one who now had to take charge of that final process was none other than Count Arnstein, who was also called the Court Duke's eyes.

"Sir Vlad's advisory mage, Nibelun, is from the southern Burgund tribe. Upon investigation, he turned out to be a descendant of a powerful family even among them."

If one wanted to know about a person in detail, grasping their surroundings first would be the basics.

Things like the sword he held or the swordsmanship he used would have already been confirmed by the Imperial Enforcers, so what the Count had to check was the size of the vessel that the person named Vlad possessed.

"The Burgund tribe, you say... Aren't they a group that somewhat maintains its form even among the beastmen?"

"That is correct. They are a tribe that had even secured their own territory in the early days of the Empire's founding."

Unlike the Northern Alliance, which had difficulty extending its reach throughout the continent, Arnstein's information network was already aimed toward the South.

To them, investigating Nibelun's origins would not have been a very difficult task.

"Furthermore, it is said that he is from an influential family among them."

"I didn't realize it when I saw him, but he was quite the noble descendant... And then?"

"It is said that Sir Vlad's immediate destination before visiting us was the dwarf liberation front. Moreover, according to rumors, Sir Vlad's closest aide, Captain Haven, recently built a ship that moves without wind."

"Without wind?"

"It seems they must have learned the dwarves' technology."

It is something you wouldn't know if you just passed by, but can see if you look closely.

Vlad was someone he had thought of merely as a promising knight, but Count Arnstein began to notice a bizarre flow squirming around him.

"What a bizarre ship. Continue."

The Count's fingertips grew busy as he listened to Pablo's report.

No matter how much information was gathered, it would all be useless if there was no correct interpretation of it.

However, even Count Arnstein, who tried to judge Vlad from the most objective perspective possible for the sake of the Court Duke in the imperial court, had no choice but to briefly set down the pen he was holding at the contents of the continuing report.

"Together with an elf?"

"That is correct."

"The Pope of the Northern Orthodox Church directly bestowed a phrase on him?"

"So they say."

"And cutting off the Absilon sales route was also..."

"At least, that was how the Imperial Enforcers judged it."

The Count's expression was full of disbelief, but the information he was hearing right now all originated from informants he had planted himself.

"... To think such things were happening in the North while I looked away for a moment."

It was probably not just simple negligence that Count Arnstein had failed to realize Vlad's true nature until now.

Because all this time, the Count had been focusing on grasping the trends in the central region for his future survival and for the fierce covert struggles inside the imperial family.

However, in the North, which he had been turning a blind eye to, a variable that even he would find hard to ignore was raising its body before he knew it.

"... This will be meaningless."

After pondering for a long time, the Count crumpled the paper he had been writing on and tossed it into the fireplace beside him.

Pablo, who had observed the Count for a long time, knew well that his current action, which seemed like a habit, was not something that came out easily.

"How was he? Did you not see him yourself?"

Count Arnstein, rising from his creaking chair, walked over to the window before long and looked outside.

"Vlad of Soara. Are you not the very person who first saw the beginning of that potential?"

Now that the objective assessment was finished, it was time to hear a subjective opinion.

And right now, beside the Count, there was one knight who could express that opinion clearly.

"... It was a setting where I didn't expect it, but it was quite a welcome light."

Pablo of Arnstein.

The knight who had shouted out the Swordmaster's Code for Vlad, who was nothing more than a back-alley boy.

Pablo opened his mouth while stroking the shield he always carried around.

"It was a light that made it not embarrassing at all for me to extend my shield."

"... Is that so?"

Having heard even Pablo's answer, a faint smile began to settle on the Count's face.

Because a single dot that had been nothing more than a faint possibility had become a line before he knew it, drawing a picture right before his eyes.

"Prepare a magic telegram. I will report directly to the Court Duke."

My mansion shining beneath today's sun looked disastrous, but there was no sign of displeasure on the Count's face as he looked down at that sight.

Thinking of it as the price paid to reap the current harvest, his mind felt lighthearted enough.

* * *

In the evening when everyone was asleep, there was a shadow moving through Arnstein's mansion.

It was a sluggish movement, yet the stepping tips of the toes were fierce, and every exhale was full of the faint breathing sounds that only a well-trained person could make.

"..."

The shadow, bypassing the sleeping servants' rooms and avoiding the eyes of the guards pacing the corridor, reached its target.

CREAK!

The shadow, having carefully stifled even the rattling of the hinges, was quietly stepping into someone's room permeated with moonlight.

THUMP!

"... It's a fragment."

In his eyes, there was a single sword visible.

It had its body wrapped in a silver wave, but what the wildly beating heart proved was that it was definitely a fragment of a dragon.

"That... That will do."

His highly shriveled fingers, deprived of blood, were bony.

However, the desire sought through those fingertips was burning fiercely, and the greatly aged Radu Dragulia was now displaying a burning thirst toward the Dragon Slaying Sword visible right in front of him.

Step by step.

His heart jumped the closer he got.

Although he had all his potential stolen by his birth father, with just that, he could become a dragon again.

"What are you doing?"

"...!"

However, even with a desire filling his soul, he could not ignore the sound coming from beside him.

Because the blue eyes looking at him right now were definitely identical to those of the father he had feared so much.

"There was a senior named Burleigh in the past."

The moonlight shining through the window bumped against the slowly rising blond hair and sparkled.

At Vlad's shadow that grew larger every time he raised his body, Radu simply trembled and crawled on the floor toward the door he had entered.

"That person used to mess with my things like that. So do you know what I did?"

Like recognized like.

And Radu, who was born as a dragon, had no choice but to completely feel just how massive a presence the Vlad right in front of him was.

"V-Vlad Aureo."

The man standing alone in a mansion where everyone was asleep.

The name of the man standing with his back to the moonlight was Vlad Aureo, just as Radu had muttered.

"I just stabbed him. Kleptomania is an illness that's naturally cured only by death, you see."

CRASH!

In the quiet dawn, there was a sound that woke everyone in the mansion.

It was a sound that rang so loudly that it startled both the sleeping servants and the vigilant guards.

"Just what the hell did you learn from the parents who gave birth to you, you bastard! Who do you think you are, stealing other people's stuff!"

"S-Spare me... Spare..."

At that loud noise, Nibelun and Bishop Pierre, who were in the next room, ended up rushing out as well.

Recognizing Vlad in the corridor they rushed out into, Nibelun raised his hand and was glad, but Bishop Pierre, who had actually gone through the most trouble, could only be shocked seeing Radu rolling on the floor.

"No, you punk! I went through so much to sneak this witness out, and you're beating him up?!"

"Let go of me! I'm going to cure this bastard's illness today!"

"You crazy bastard! Why on earth are you acting like this as soon as you wake up?!"

HUMMMM.

In the empty room, Vlad's sword was crying out.

Watching the two dragons miserably rolling around out there right now.

However, the reason joy resided in that resonance was likely because it was glad its master had finally awakened from his sleep.