novelraw Chapter 122 : Chapter 122
Chapter 122 : Chapter 122
Chapter 122: Four Questions for Righteousness (3)
It was a sword of the highest quality, yet at the same time, it was a piece of metal.
Such was the treasured sword held by Demian. The tip of the blade, extended with great vigor, was aimed at Robert. He could cut him down with a single stroke if he wished. Or perhaps he should. Strength filled the expression of Demian, who was gripping the hilt. But a hint of a smile crossed Robert’s face. As if he were witnessing a piece of metal, not a sword.
“I am human.”
Robert declared without hesitation.
To the question of whether he was human, he answered that he was.
“If not human, what else could I be.”
“Explain!”
Demian shouted, as if squeezing out the words.
His glossy blond hair fluttered in the sea breeze.
“What has happened in this village……, explain everything.”
“It will be a tedious story.”
Your arm will get tired.
If you listen to my story, that is.
Robert whispered as such.
“So, outsider, would you please put away your sword?”
“Absolutely not, Demian.”
Eleanor ran toward Demian.
Hiding behind Demian’s back, she grabbed his collar and whispered hurriedly.
“I will tell you everything. About this village. So kill him. That’s why you drew your sword.”
What are you doing? Kill him now.
Eleanor urged him so.
“Didn’t you hear the conversation that bastard and I had? He was planning to kill me. He brought me from an orphanage in another land to offer me as a sacrifice.”
Demian could not move easily.
On the outside, he was firmly gripping the hilt of his sword, but inside, thoughts were swirling and twisting wildly. Was everything Eleanor said true? Why was Robert so confident? Was he not caught in a trap? The possibility that the two were acting? If by any chance he had to kill Robert……,
“Hurry, Demian!”
If it is righteous to punish the wicked,
if it is a righteousness that he must protect as a knight,
“Why are you just standing there!”
Is it enough.
Is the resolve he had painstakingly solidified enough.
“──You son of a bitch!”
Squeeze.
Eleanor grabbed Demian by the scruff of his neck.
Her etiquette as a miko had long been abandoned. Eleanor’s gaze, glaring at Demian, was undeniably young. A clumsy impatience shook Eleanor’s eyes. Of course, even so──,
“I brought you here because you seemed the strongest!”
The more inept one was Demian.
How pathetic. Demian thought so. Staring at his own reflection in Eleanor’s eyes.
“Can’t you act your age? If I knew this would happen, I would have asked someone else for help.”
You said you learned swordsmanship.
You said you handle the power of the Main Gods.
You said you came from the best educational institution in the empire.
Does it make sense for you to be frozen like this after all that boasting? If I could have learned as much as you, I would not have hesitated.
“You damn city bumpkin! Get a grip!”
What are you doing not protecting me!
While Eleanor shouted so,
“──Haha!”
Robert laughed.
With his hand on his forehead.
As if watching the antics of children.
“Please forgive the impoliteness, outsider.”
Thump.
Robert took a step forward.
He calmly approached Demian.
“Eleanor is ill-mannered. It’s not right for her to speak so harshly to you, a noble. It is my fault for my insufficient education. It was truly difficult to teach her the etiquette of a miko.”
Since I too am but a mere commoner.
Since Portsmouth is a backward fishing village.
Robert whispered as such.
“You demanded an explanation from me, did you not?”
Robert’s shadow covered Demian.
You’re truly useless. Just a pretty face.
Muttering so, Eleanor stepped back. Hiding behind Demian’s back, she glared at Robert. Feeling Eleanor’s hurried, scattered breath, Demian slowly nodded. He needed an explanation. He needed to understand the terribly distorted situation.
“What Eleanor said is true.”
Robert whispered in a quiet tone.
“Portsmouth has been prolonging its existence through sacrifices.”
It has been so for a very long time. To the point of solidifying into a religion.
Robert explained as such. In the distant past, faith in monsters was prevalent, and human sacrifices based on this were also customarily performed. Portsmouth was no different. After regarding a monster as a god, they offered their own kind because their god was hungry.
“Religion is a truly superior opium. Does it not even eradicate feelings of guilt?”
Demian had already learned.
Worship of monsters is based on feelings of guilt. Scholars of the current generation had deduced so. It becomes easier to believe that one is offering a sacrifice to a god, not to a monster. If immorality is considered providence, everything will be resolved.
“……Cthulhu.”
Robert muttered.
Looking back at the altar of Cthanid.
It was an ineffable pronunciation. It felt like an ancient language, not the common tongue of the empire.
“They say there is a monster with such a name in the sea. I have never seen it, but it must exist. My Olmstead family has been in charge of the village chief position of Portsmouth for generations, and my story is merely a tale passed down from our ancestors.”
The Sea God Cthanid was a monster.
Faith in monsters had taken root in Portsmouth.
Since when? Since when did the people of Portsmouth regard a monster as a god? Demian, of course, but even Robert could not have imagined. It must be a faith so old as to be indescribable.
The old custom of misinterpreting a monster residing in the sea as a sea god, naming it Cthanid and looking up to it……,
“Ironically, it was effective.”
Robert affirmed.
That peace is restored by offering a sacrifice.
“For some reason, the invasion is getting fiercer and fiercer, but…….”
It has been this way since ancient times.
Cthanid demanded a sacrifice at specific intervals. The invasion of Portsmouth was the signal. Forty-nine adults, and in addition, one child. Cthanid would not stop until they were offered. In other words, it was the only solution. Unless someone defeated Cthanid, committing human sacrifice was the only way to prolong the existence of Portsmouth.
“We had none.”
Slither.
Robert’s hand covered Demian’s blade.
“Unlike you noble people, we had no weapons, no magic, and no technology.”
Squeeze.
Strength filled Robert’s grip.
A thick stream of blood flowed down Demian’s treasured sword.
“So we created it. A faith that suits us.”
Demian’s eyes shot open.
He examined Robert’s features, which were set in his trembling grey eyes.
Ordinary. He was a man with an impression so ordinary it made one yawn. Was his only hobby grooming his mustache? Underneath the neatly trimmed mustache, a smile was spreading on Robert’s lips. At the presence of the skinny middle-aged man, Demian flinched unexpectedly.
“By making a monster a god──.”
Robert spoke, and Demian thought.
Why? Why can’t I move.
“We repeatedly offered sacrifices and contemplated the doctrine. So that the survivors would feel less guilty.”
“You talk a good game! What are you so proud of?”
Eleanor shouted.
While holding onto one of Demian’s shoulders.
“Now you get it, Demian? There’s no such thing as a miko. They just called the child who was to be a sacrifice a miko and revered her. It’s ridiculous, really. They must have thought it would make them feel a little better.”
“It was a form of gratitude, Eleanor.”
Robert said in a calm tone.
Without a hint of wavering, with a smile on his face.
“As a miko, were you not more prosperous than anyone else? You ate the most heartily in this village, and resided in the warmest place. It must have been an environment too overwhelming for a mere orphan to enjoy. It was my own way of showing gratitude.”
“You said it well, you son of a bitch. Why should a mere orphan have to take responsibility for your village? Did your conscience prickle at the thought of offering a Portsmouth kid? That’s why you brought me from an orphanage.”
“That must have been it. It must be a tradition that solidified for that reason. Bringing an orphan and claiming they were found on the beach, and looking up to them as a representative of the sea god, must all be the result of our ancestors’ anguish.”
“So what! Don’t use your ancestors as an excuse!”
“It is not an excuse, but a fact! We have lived this way until now!”
Demian’s brow furrowed.
A drop of cold sweat flowed down his temple. The two voices digging into his ears stirred his inner thoughts. He wasn't debating anything else. When it came to right and wrong, it was obviously wrong. The faith that had dominated Portsmouth was undoubtedly wrong.
“Forty-nine adults……”
Demian barely managed to open his mouth.
“What happened to them. Have they already been offered as sacrifices.”
“Of course.”
Robert affirmed without hesitation.
“I do find it unfortunate. How can I just wait? The empire will extend a helping hand to us? I did not have the luxury of being optimistic about that.”
You should have come sooner, no……,
someone should have come sooner, he said,
Robert whispered, pulling the hand that held the sword. Demian’s blade touched Robert’s neck. Thus, a scratch was made. A wound settled, pushing aside the flesh of Robert’s neck. While a single stream of blood flowed down thinly,
“You will not be able to kill me, young lord.”
Robert muttered in a leisurely tone.
“Because you have never experienced death. You have never been on the verge of death, nor have you ever been on the verge of killing. To be holding such a valuable-looking sword in such a situation……”
It’s amusing.
Truly amusing.
Robert said so.
With a mocking smile.
“Am I wrong? Go ahead and try to kill me.”
“Demian, there’s nothing to hesitate about. Kill him now. He deserves it.”
Robert and Eleanor urged him on,
but Demian could not hear them. The righteousness of the Farenheit family was merely raging in his ears. To serve the lord with valor and faith, to respect and protect the weak. To despise rewards made of gold coins, to hate injustice, cowardice, and deceit…….
“Go on. Kill me.”
“Hurry up and kill him, you idiot!”
Gag.
Demian strained his neck.
Nausea surged. And so he saw through it.
He had thought it was disgusting until now. He thought he had found the blood, the guts, the corpses repulsive. But it was different. He could not stand death itself. The fact that he could blow someone’s head off with the sword in his hand. That fact was stimulating Demian’s stomach. Because it was so easy. Because it was so absurdly simple.
“See, you can’t do it.”
Robert sneered,
“Give me the sword now! I’d rather do it myself……”
Eleanor pushed at Demian’s grip,
“──Damn it!”
As Demian gritted his teeth,
and raised the Farenheit family’s treasured sword,
“No.”
Crunch.
A blade embedded in Robert’s head.
It was not Demian’s doing. A sword thrown from somewhere had pierced Robert. An old bastard sword. Abel’s beloved sword had pierced Robert’s face, expression and all. Robert, pushed by the wind of the sword, collapsed limply, and the sneer that had spread across his face scattered in vain. Between his eyes, nose, and mouth, the blood that gushed from Robert’s face drenched Demian.
“Ah, Professor Argento……”
Demian collapsed limply.
A breath burst out. His chest heaved and an exhale gushed out.
“……No, Demian.”
Thump.
Abel passed Demian and moved forward.
Abel was the same. He was out of breath from running so fast. After pulling out the beloved sword that had pierced Robert’s face, Abel grabbed him by the hair and took a step.
He was like a mere piece of luggage. Robert’s body, which had been chattering nonstop.
“Besides killing monsters, you will one day kill a person.”
For a very brief moment,
Abel stopped and whispered.
“But no.”
It is still too soon for you.
After muttering so, Abel moved on,
“Serves you right, you disgusting bastard.”
Ptooey.
Eleanor bowed her head and spat,
“……Ha.”
Demian let out a hollow laugh.
He reached out and stroked his eyes.
Robert’s blood staining his fingers. Feeling that, Demian gritted his teeth.
“Damn it……”
It wasn’t disgusting.
He saw the blood, and the smell of blood wafted, but nausea did not surge. It was just empty. Because he only felt emptiness, he could not bear it even more.
How pathetic. Truly pathetic.
Thinking so, Demian squeezed his eyes shut.
‘In this state of all things…….’
How could he have tried to become a knight.
‘Chivalry, in the first place…….’
What use is there in protecting it.
When it’s such a mess. To penetrate through savagery, class, stubbornness, and despair, to be noble alone from the evil that is rampant all over the world,
‘Is it not too righteous?’
As if it should be regarded as a joke.
* * *
Late at night, in the square of Portsmouth.
A corpse lay in the deserted open space.
It was Robert’s corpse. After throwing the corpse on the ground, Abel stood up straight. Unlike Robert’s face, which was distorted from being pierced by a sword, Abel looked around with a silent expression.
‘This is not good.’
A spirit was floating beside Abel.
He had sensed it through the spirit. The conversation that had taken place between Demian, Eleanor, and Robert. The spirits that had been wandering nearby had conveyed the details to Abel. Because the sensory systems of humans and spirits were different, he could not fully grasp it, but he could infer the general outline.
‘I should not have killed the village chief.’
Even so, he should not have killed Robert right away.
There would have been room for interrogation. The village chief’s death would agitate the villagers. He could easily foresee such a prospect. He had just been short of means to stop Demian, who was in a state of panic. If Abel hadn't killed him first, Demian’s hands would have been stained.
‘It must be something that couldn't be helped.’
Abel sighed.
Unexpected situations always arise.
What was important was how to deal with it. That was why Abel was standing in the middle of the square.
‘Since it has come to this…….’
The village chief’s death cannot be hidden.
Conflict with the residents is also unavoidable.
Then it would be better to make a big noise first. If conflict is unavoidable, it is only right to seize the initiative. In the first place, the residents of Portsmouth had also become subjects for interrogation. It was time to examine how much the residents knew about the identity of the faith in Cthanid.
“──Listen!”
Thus, Abel shouted.
“The residents of Portsmouth, listen!”
Plop.
Raindrops began to fall.
“I have just executed the chief of this village!”
Through the gap in the thick, swollen rain clouds,
a faint moonlight shone down on Abel’s head.
“Therefore, I will recite the charges!”
It is the village chief’s crime, and also your crime!
Abel shouted so, and,
──Whoosh!
A downpour began to color Portsmouth.
Noisily, ever so clamorously.