The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin

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Chapter 195: Fake Followers (2)

Ruins of Light.

Creations made by the hands of humans who lived in ancient times.

For those living in the present era, it can be said to be a space of mystery, where they cannot know when or for what reason it was created.

“…….”

Luna placed her hands, along with mana, on the altar where Hastia had been lying.

-Uwooong

However, there was no noticeable response.

Only faint resonance occurred.

Schurz welcomed her as she descended beneath the altar.

“Ha, have you already finished? Luna?”

“Not finished, we haven’t even started. It seems this ruin doesn’t want me to exert my power.”

A small amount of mana that had not yet disappeared continued to manifest in Luna’s hands.

She attempted to directly confirm what had happened through replay, but an unknown force was interfering with her power.

“That saint woman claimed to be a messenger of the gods, but why would an elf capable of hearing the voice of the gods play the role of a saint in the human realm?”

Nephrodite Iris, the saint of light.

The practical leader of the Order of Light and the one who first conveyed the will of the supreme god.

Sixty years ago, since the mist god first appeared on this land, she has maintained eternal youth until now.

She explained it was because she was under the protection of the god.

However, the truth hidden beneath the mask inevitably reveals itself someday.

She remained youthful because she was not human but a white elf.

“Yes, haven’t there been such sayings for a long time? Humans are said to be the creatures most resembling the nature of the gods… Wasn’t it done to lead the creatures of the gods onto the right path?”

“The right path. Who decided that was the right path?”

Schurz fell silent at Luna’s firm retort.

“Is the order of light that maintains the current peace truly inherited from ancient times, unknown to us?”

It was a question Schurz couldn’t possibly answer.

“At least that girl, Nephrodite, knew. So she must have found this ruin on her own without anyone’s guidance.”

“Then shouldn’t we have interrogated that saintess further?”

“Even if we interrogated her, she would probably just chant incomprehensible praises. Unfortunately, I believe only what I see. And that girl probably didn’t survive to return to the empire.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I saw Senior Arin during the negotiation, no, Princess Arin, her eyes were very unusual.”

Luna replied casually as if it were nothing.

Schurz could only nod in puzzlement.

“So, this time, shall we borrow the strength of Mr. Schurz, who has ample experience as a mercenary?”

“What are you talking about?”

Suddenly, a member of the society approached behind Schurz and handed him something.

It was a document with small writing packed on a single page.

“……!”

After checking the document, Schurz glanced at Luna with a deeply furrowed brow.

Luna met his gaze with her usual unwavering eyes.

At the top of the document, the word ‘Mist’ in black was clearly engraved.

* * *

There are usually two situations when asking, ‘How dare you do such a thing?’

The first is when there are thorough precautions in place to justify such actions,

The second is when it is done blindly without any thought.

But in my opinion, the current situation is the latter.

Look at the face of the abbot who is on the verge of fainting out of fear.

A foolish sight that proves she had no idea of the current situation.

The current situation is an undeniable display of foolishness, proving the inability to anticipate what was happening.

This individual clearly didn’t even consider the possibility that impersonating a follower of the Black Mist could attract the real follower of the Black Mist.

There’s no point in dragging someone like this for interrogation; there’s nothing to gain.

My gaze naturally shifted to a book placed on the desk.

Although it superficially looked like a scripture, the entire book was so dark that it was hard to make out any writing.

It definitely seemed different from the scriptures I saw in the cathedral, but before confirming its contents, I had to figure out where this came from.

“Where did you get this, abbot?”

“…!”

While he usually spoke like flowing water, he was now suddenly struck dumb.

I asked again out of mercy,

“It’s about the presence of the mist. Where did you get this?”

“Ah, the presence of the mist?”

Would he pretend not to understand what’s already evident?

His inner thoughts were transparent, almost to the point of being reflected.

“He, he appeared! The presence of the mist has finally appeared among us! To show us the true path of salvation…!”

-Snap!

I grabbed his wretched neck and pulled him in front of me.

“I might not mind it once or twice, but I’m not patient enough for a third time. What I want to hear now isn’t some generic praise, got it? Does something need to be cut off for you to understand?”

The abbot, with her throat grabbed, emitted painful groans while raising his finger.

His finger pointed to my right hand, nothing but the book.

Was the person who gave the book written in it?

As I turned my gaze back to him,

“…!”

He fainted.

-Tock.

Since there seemed to be no need to wake him up to ask again, I just left him.

When I discreetly turned my head, I met the varied gazes of the parishioners.

Surprise, fear, or awe.

Although their diverse reactions were quite interesting, what could I do?

It’s not my concern.

The Black Mist isn’t a benevolent entity to proclaim salvation from the start.

Moreover, there’s no reason for to know how they think of me either.

Without any hindrance, I smoothly departed from that place.

* * *

[Are you in your right mind?]

“Why? What’s the problem?”

[What’s the problem? Are you aware of what you’re doing and where you are?]

One of the tables on the second floor of a bustling inn tavern.

Accompanied by the tavern’s specialty appetizers, I was reading the scripture I had confiscated from the monastery earlier.

Well, is there a problem?

[Selling your face to worthless scoundrels, and now reading books in a place like this?]

“I think it’s a kind of reverse thinking. How would these people know where I’ve been and what I’ve done?”

They’re not the type to come looking for me all over the city.

So, I’m just casually reading a book like this.

[Really?]

Kaeram looked at me with apparent dissatisfaction.

Knowing she would say something, I focused solely on reading the book.

-Thump.

She plopped down in front of me.

[Why? What’s the problem?]

Then she flashed an audacious smile, as if there was no issue at all.

“What are you up to?”

She had used complete manifestation to reveal her form.

[A man doesn’t look as dejected as you do alone in a tavern. At least, I don’t like seeing my master in such a state. So, what can I do? This big sister has to be your drinking companion.]

Then she casually filled the empty glass in front of her.

Unlike when I was alone, the gazes around began to shift towards us.

Of course, not towards me but towards Kaeram.

[Anyway, you know I’m pretty as a flower. That’s why I tried not to show up whenever possible…]

How can you make such remarks without even blinking an eye?

I wonder what expression they’ll have when they find out the flower they’re admiring is actually a centuries-old withered flower disguised as a fresh rose.

As if sensing my wicked(?) thoughts, she narrowed her eyes and asked,

[Hey, what were you thinking just now?]

“A good thought.”

Just as if she were about to pout at my firm answer, she suddenly downed the filled glass heavily.

“Does the Demonic Blade even drink?”

[Men drink it, so why can’t I drink it?]

Kaeram flashed a mischievous grin, saying there’s no problem at all.

[So, did you get anything from that black book where you can see the writing?]

If I obtained something, then I gained something.

The person who made this book is an immensely eccentric individual.

Honestly, this is more than just a book of light scripture.

Even if it had belonged to the mist’s original mist devotees in the distant past, it painstakingly recorded nonsense about Aeru.

“If they had written a novel, they would have been a huge success, right? I’m curious about who would think to write something like this and what their name is.”

[Don’t authors usually have their names written on the front or back of the book?]

I immediately checked both sides of the book.

There was no author, and the title was not even written on the front.

On the back, there was small writing at the very bottom that would have been easily overlooked.

It was a name I hadn’t seen before.

[Why who?]

“Do you think you’ll know?”

[I might. I’ve lived several times longer than you, after all. I’ve killed many times more people than you have. Maybe that’s why.]

Is it something to be proud of to boast about that?

Still, out of curiosity from Kaeram’s words, I decided to share.

“Dio.”

[TL/N: IS THAT A JOJO REFERENCE]

[…]

“Have you heard of it?”

[No. Doesn’t seem like it.]

Her unusually quick response actually caught me off guard.

Seemingly not wanting to think about it any further, she averted her gaze from me.

Not that I had any more questions to pry into.

It was an unexpected reaction, to say the least.

As I once again attempted to focus on analyzing the scripture.

-Thump.

A nameless, unfamiliar old man suddenly plopped down opposite me.

And with a sinister gaze, as if he had a hidden agenda, he stared at me.

“Does this tavern have an old man serving?”

“It’s not that kind of tavern. I came here because I have something to ask.”

The old man said he had something to ask me.

“You. Weren’t you at the monastery a moment ago?”

“Do I have to answer?”

“I was there just a moment ago too. So, it’s a question since I was at the monastery. Some scrawny men were dragging you somewhere. What were you doing there?”

My response was consistent with what I had said before.

“This young lad is more particular than he appears. Such an attitude isn’t helpful in navigating this harsh world.”

It was a statement that didn’t even warrant a fake laugh.

The old man who was at the monastery?

He didn’t have a particularly memorable face, but he didn’t seem like one of the congregants who were in the underground plaza, at least.

“Reading such a dreary book in front of this lovely lady. Your character is quite peculiar.”

[Old man, are your eyes still sharp?]

Kaeram accepted it as good.

“At first glance, it seems a bit different from the provisions the monks handed out, doesn’t it? If you’re not going to tell me, how about giving me that book? Of course, I’ll pay for it.”

“What are you going to give me? Your pockets don’t look that deep.”

“Do you know what’s good about getting older? Even if your pockets aren’t deep, your head might be. Let me tell you an interesting story. If you’re satisfied after hearing it, how about giving me the book?”

This old man.

He’s not just your average senior citizen, contrary to his appearance.

I feel that he might have thrown his weight around quite a bit in his younger days.

Curiosity mingled with a strange interest.

“Let’s give it a try.”

“Alright! Then before we start the story, I should introduce myself first.”

He pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

Naturally, it wasn’t money or gold coins.

What the old man took out was nothing other than a document.

A document proving affiliation to some faction.

A place I couldn’t be ignorant of…

“I was a member of the Knights of Light in my youth.”

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