By Zephyria 
Rubel was dressed in his usual dignified men’s attire.
Despite his tall stature, a long, stylish, dark crimson cloak that nearly touched the floor draped over his shoulders. Precious jewels were heavily adorned over it. Among them, the button fastening his collar was a deep, dark hue, greedily swallowing the light of the lamps illuminating the underground.
And what of the patterns embroidered with golden thread, extending from the cuffs in a dreamlike, flowing line? Among the jewels, processed to deliberately avoid shining, the finest were gilded with the Sierran imperial crest, adding to his dignity. It was a magical sight in itself.
How elegant was his posture as he sat, crossing his legs. The way the cloak fell from his straight shoulders, drawing a remarkably fluid line, was almost wondrous.
Rubel, wearing the face of a stranger, let out a short, mocking sound. No, it was just a sound. Not a trace of a smile could be found on Rubel’s face. My gaze was involuntarily drawn to him. I watched him, lost in thought.
“How can you not know me?”
“⋯Hm?”
“I distinctly told Raul to be careful with his conduct.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Rubel’s voice, unusually resonant for him, was filled with a sigh. Rubel continued.
“Raul said he knew of my existence from the very beginning. My status, my purpose.”
“⋯.”
“Did he never mention that he was close friends with Lord Benson here in his youth? How strong my knights are, or why we entered Owen?”
“⋯.”
“Did you truly start this without knowing anything?”
The woman’s parted lips did not close.
I too was surprised. I never dreamed Rubel could spin such a brazen lie. All of us in our party stood behind Rubel like well-trained hounds, adding to Rubel’s dignified words. I caught Hugh’s lips twisting upwards from the corner of my eye.
No answer came.
Rubel continued speaking in his still-cold tone, each word landing like a blow.
“You didn’t know that what Raul wanted was your corpse?”
“⋯.”
“To be precise, he schemed to acquire the corpse of a Sword Master. He dared to spirit away all three bodies without my permission.”
“What, where, where did he take them?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
Rubel’s dark eyes gleamed coldly.
His face, with only a slight twist of the lips, was not suited for a child at all. The clear mockery made his pale face shine even whiter. In this dark underground, Rubel seemed to be the only source of light. A part of my chest trembled.
“Will you know if you hear it?”
The woman closed her mouth, which had been agape.
A silence, so cold it was chilling, filled the space. This woman, too, must have been through a lot, and seeing her expression wiped clean, she was clearly deep in thought.
Rubel gestured with his chin towards Hugh. Hugh Benson let out a sigh and stood with his hands behind his back.
The rigid dignity of a Sierran knight enveloped Hugh Benson. Anyone seeing him now would not recall his usual loose and arrogant demeanor. He explained with an attitude and voice five times more diligent than usual.
“Raul grew up in an orphanage at number 3, Bardiol Street, number 5. From the age of fourteen, he joined ‘Sol’ to learn petty theft, and recently he joined ‘Aol’. The six people he associates with are all from the same orphanage, so you should know them well.”
“⋯.”
The woman’s dazed eyes looked at Hugh Benson. Hugh Benson added, as if declaring it,
“If he told you even a shred of truth, that is.”
“⋯I thought one of you knew⋯.”
“Did he mention there was a Sword Master from the same orphanage?”
“⋯Yes.”
“Did he mention that there were twelve Sword Masters among our party?”
This was also a lie. At Hugh Benson’s nonchalant expression and Rubel’s arrogant gaze, the woman’s face contorted. She seemed to be weighing the truthfulness of it. However, it was natural for the Prince to have many guards… Generally, it was a natural thing. The woman spat out her reply.
“⋯That… I didn’t know, I didn’t know.”
“After the Prince was kidnapped by Raul’s scheme, I scoured all of Bardiol. Raul contacted me three days later saying he found the Prince. When he said he would bring the Prince to the designated mansion, I waited… Seeing only four Sword Masters guarding the place, I assumed it was a trap.”
“⋯That’s.”
“To dare kidnap an Imperial Prince and even poison him, can such a crime ever be forgiven? It would have been right to cut them all down on the spot, but I left you because there was one thing I needed to ask.”
“⋯.”
“We are curious about only one thing. What does Raul intend to do with the corpses of the Sword Masters?”
A grinding sound was heard.
Fire ignited in the woman’s eyes. Her aura surged from her shoulders, then sputtered and was blocked by the magic circle’s attack. Our party’s gazes remained cold. The woman’s anger boiled hotter and hotter.
It was true that we had stormed in during the time Raul and his companions were absent. We had been watching for a long time before that, but at any rate, Raul was not present when they encountered us. All her companions were killed, and some of them had suspected Raul.
The woman’s voice, filled with rage, ended with a grating, metallic sound, unlike her earlier tone.
“I, fuck… I was just an intermediary.”
No one replied. It was as if they were daring her to do her worst. The woman, instead of regretting her outburst, looked at Rubel and asked something else.
“If I tell you what I know, will you spare me?”
“I will help you be dealt with according to the Sierran Imperial Law.”
“⋯Ha.”
This meant he intended to drag her to court, at least.
The woman chewed her lips until they were swollen, rolling her eyes. Standing amidst such blatant deception, her expression didn’t inspire trust, so we simply watched.
The woman’s deliberation was not long.
“Late two years ago… ‘Owner’ started gathering people.”
The story that began thus was longer than expected.
People called him Owner. She said she didn’t know what those two syllables meant. She only knew that Owner was at the apex of this terrible kidnapping plot.
Owner first approached noble families renowned in Owen. He approached grand nobles who had swallowed four, five, or even more territories. He offered the throne and the Royal Castle of Owen as the prize. He claimed he would make the one who showed the highest achievement among his followers the King.
Of course, the lords who had gone through many civil wars were not fools. They suspected Owner and ordered an investigation. And within a week, they all pledged their loyalty to Owner.
This was because Owner could issue Divine Revelations.
Marianne, who had been listening quietly, interjected.
“Divine Revelations… you say?”
“Yes. Owner issues Divine Revelations.”
“You don’t receive them?”
“I thought so at first… No. The faithful in Owen can hear his voice. My faith is shallow, so I only heard it once…”
Something came to mind. Did he say to be careful of the mark on my wrist? What if that was not the voice of the First Goddess, but of this ‘Owner’?
Was what he called himself truly ‘us’?
Did he try to prevent our party from entering this land? Why?
Rubel, with a light gesture, silenced Marianne and commanded the woman.
“Continue.”
…The explanation continued.
Owner could issue Divine Revelations. Lords heard the Divine Revelations from the mouths of maids giving orders with their eyes rolled back in their own castles, from knights who suddenly collapsed while guarding them, or from spouses who suddenly sat up after sleeping embraced. And they followed.
What Owner wanted was offerings.
People. Those with strong bodies, at least Sword Expert level or higher.
To resolve this, the lords initially hired mercenaries. More precisely, they said they would hire them, and then used them as offerings. The simple task of poisoning the tea of invited mercenaries quickly became difficult to use after a few rounds.
Mercenaries with sharp wits began to go on monster hunts without accepting commissions from grand dukes. Since the lords couldn’t afford to expend their family knights on such matters, they grew desperate. Thus began what was called ‘Mercenary Hunting’.
“⋯Mercenary Hunting?”
“Yes. They hired Sword Masters like me to capture mercenaries of Sword Expert level or higher. They had to be captured alive in any form, and it’s difficult to capture someone of the same level alive.”
My involuntary utterance was immediately followed by a detailed explanation.
Taking the opportunity, I asked.
“What about the knights of the noble families?”
“Of course, they are also desperate to capture mercenaries. At first, they chose mercenaries without relatives, but now that’s not enough. So they target outsiders. They are doing this not only in Bardiol but throughout Owen.”
Rubel did not stop me from asking. He just watched quietly and added his own comment.
“What did you agree to receive in return?”
“⋯Territory and titles.”
“⋯.”
Territory and titles.
The woman lifted her head sharply. Her voice grew louder and louder.
“Since you’re from the Sierran Empire, you all know, don’t you? That everyone is just pretending. That class is a gift from God? Anyone knows that a commoner can walk gracefully like a noble if taught properly, and a noble can be worse than a street beggar if they crawl on the ground! What’s so great about having to grovel for generations. I…”
“⋯.”
“Me too.”
No one replied.
Eventually, the anger the woman poured out was as beautiful as if it were fabricated. With her shoulders slumped like a wet butterfly, she took a breath, her posture clearly trying to elicit our sympathy.
Yet, it was a pitiable state that we couldn’t help but be swayed by, even knowing it. The woman let out a sigh like a gentle breeze and slowly lowered her voice.
“I didn’t want to die on the battlefield until I was old, eaten by monsters. I just wanted to have my own home…”
“You wanted to buy a house with money from kidnapping and killing dozens or hundreds of others? How many? One or two wouldn’t be profitable.”
As Hugh Benson retorted with a click of his tongue, the woman’s eyes, which had been feigning pitifulness, turned venomous in an instant. How could a person change so quickly? It was utterly astonishing. I was as mesmerized as when I first saw a troupe’s face-changing performance.
The woman retorted in a cold voice.
“Others would have wanted to sell me just the same. I just struck first.”
“As if.”
Rubel gestured again, stopping Hugh. Hugh Benson was about to retort further but quietly closed his mouth. Rubel, in a slow but clear tone, asked briefly.
“So. Raul must have offered those corpses to Owner as offerings?”
“⋯Probably.”
“Owner’s residence?”
“⋯I heard it’s somewhere in the grand dukes’ mansions. No one knows what it looks like or where it is. It’s just that at some point, a Divine Revelation is issued, so there’s no need to meet him.”
“⋯.”
What exactly could be done with Black Magic? Was this even Black Magic?
The fact that they brought living martial artists made me think further. Did they really kill them? The faces of the mercenaries lying still, steeped in contaminated mana, vividly appeared before my eyes. They were clearly breathing.
…Perhaps, the Wicked Arts like Ginger Corpses or Steel Corpses I saw before I died are also on this land… No, it’s not. How could that be? Surely, such a thing wouldn’t happen again…
It was a moment when any suspicion seemed not excessive. My mind had been in turmoil the entire time.