novelraw Chapter 123 : Chapter 123
Chapter 123 : Chapter 123
Chapter 123: Four Questions for Inheritance (1)
<──Listen!>
Is it going to rain?
Ernst thought, adjusting his glasses.
The humidity filling the post was unusual. Dampness clung to the walls of the post, which had been reinforced in the form of a pillbox. It must have been sturdy enough to withstand shelling when it was completed, but the post, damaged by the passage of time, couldn't even block the rain.
A pillbox is a post built to defend an area.
In other words, it was a fortress for the purpose of engagement. Unlike a bomb shelter, it had a structure that facilitated attacks, and that was why what was scattered around Ernst were damaged armaments. Such as damaged shields, torn magic scrolls, damp gunpowder, and matchlock guns with damaged wicks.
They had all lost their usability.
The decayed post was like the belly of the dead. The damaged armaments were like food. It looked as if they had been chewed up and piled up inside the body, and then left to rot. Then I must be like a baby. Ernst thought, curling up his body. A fetus flailing inside a dead mother’s womb. He mocked himself for resembling it.
Whoosh.
The sound of rain dominating the post.
So that was it. It was going to rain. Ernst muttered with a chuckle. On the vast table in the center of the post, the engraved letters were updated.
Current weather, rain. Temperature is -6.1°C. Wind speed is 9.2km/h. Sea state is unmeasurable. The reason the sea could not be measured must be because it was polluted.
It seemed to be barely functioning.
The table Ernst was facing, the Formal Tactical Controller.
‘You little rascal, you’ve held on well.’
Ernst thought, stroking the table.
A map of Portsmouth was being projected on the table. The tactical controller was a mana device developed to manage the overall war situation, an equipment that assisted the commander by burying mana stones called detection stones in specific areas and using the mana they emitted.
That wasn't all.
In addition to monitoring various places, it was also possible to grant spells to allies.
However, the tactical controller Ernst had found was an old model installed during the Mirror War, and to use all its functions, he would have to go through a complicated procedure, but……,
- ……Village Chief?
- What is going on! What on earth happened?
- Everyone, gather here!
- He killed him! That outsider killed the Village Chief!
In the middle of Portsmouth’s square.
It was easy enough to detect what was happening there.
‘What in the world is all this.’
Ernst questioned, resting his chin on his hand.
He racked his brain to figure out the exact details. The residents of Portsmouth gathered in the square, as well as Abel standing in the middle of it, were marked on the map. They were just projected as round symbols. It was too simple a marking method to observe their specific feelings.
‘Professor Argento killed the village chief…….’
A cross was engraved next to Abel.
In other words, it meant dead. It must be the symbol representing Robert’s corpse.
‘Demian is staying at the murder scene.’
Ernst reached out his hand.
In the bushes near Portsmouth, when he tapped the spot with his index finger, two round symbols were engraved. They must be symbolizing Demian and Eleanor. He had been eavesdropping on their conversation until just a moment ago.
‘Did they say they’ve been offering sacrifices, to a monster…….’
It would be an undeniable heresy.
The Holy Numeros Empire recognized freedom of religion, but it forbade faiths that involved human sacrifice. It would be no different even if they believed in the Platinum Round Table Orthodoxy. Extreme faith was subject to severe punishment.
Worshiping monsters was also a taboo. Cults that violated this were surviving in various places, but the principle was to dispose of them immediately upon discovery. In other words, Abel had executed Robert as a holy knight.
‘But Professor Argento, if it were you…….’
You would have tried to conduct an interrogation.
Was it for Demian’s sake? Was it because he killed him in place of Demian, who was on the verge of killing Robert? If so, it was understandable.
‘That foolish bastard.’
A sigh just rose.
Demian may be a genius when it comes to handling a sword, but when it comes to handling lives, he would be nothing more than a dunce. Ernst understood as a longtime friend.
‘You’re too good of a guy.’
Born into a good family, interacted with good adults, enjoyed good opportunities, and grew up with a good heart, just taking good words to heart. The heir of a prestigious family of swordsmanship, Demian Fernando von Farenheit.
‘It’s a funny thing.’
A sword is a murder weapon, and swordsmanship is merely a murder technique, but that didn’t mean Demian could become proficient at it. Just because he was a genius of swordsmanship, didn’t mean he could become a genius of murder.
‘What will you do, Professor.’
Ernst’s eyes narrowed.
He glared at the symbol of Abel that appeared on the tactical controller.
He must have announced the village chief’s death to question their faith, but now that things have come to this, the relationship with the residents will hit rock bottom.
‘……It’s a mess.’
Ernst stared blankly at the tactical controller, the table that resembled the one in his grandmother’s bedchamber.
The symbols engraved all over were chaotic. The entire area was spread out in Ernst’s field of vision. Absurdly simply.
Roberta seemed to be staying in her lodgings, and Monika and Lizer seemed to be on guard duty at the coast. And Ernst,
“Grandma, you damn grandma……”
He muttered with a sigh.
“……Brunhilde von Tresckow.”
He bowed his head, gritting his teeth.
He clenched his teeth, placing both hands on the table.
“Did you really have to be looking at this kind of thing.”
With the feeling of witnessing this kind of thing until the moment you died, did you face this table and chatter with me like that.
* * *
At the same time, in the square of Portsmouth.
A crowd was thick around Abel. They were all residents of Portsmouth. The gazes of the residents directed at Abel were sharp. Contempt, jeers, and shouts filled with anger adorned Abel’s ears. It was as he had expected. Abel faced the residents with his beloved sword drawn.
“Do you know.”
Abel opened his mouth.
He looked around at the residents with a stern expression.
“The village chief of Portsmouth, Robert Olmstead, was committing human sacrifice.”
He was used to facing angry mobs.
Not only had he been dispatched to various places as a Sword Saint, but he had also traveled through countless worlds as ‘The Mother God's Left Hand.’
The customs that dominated regions, nations, and worlds were always steadfast. That was why he had few memories of being welcomed as a guest. He had only been wary of as a stranger. To the residents of Portsmouth, Abel was nothing more than an outsider, and the declaration that he had executed the village chief was the same as unleashing hostility.
“Did you know.”
Did you condone it knowing?
Or did you live without knowing?
Abel interrogated as such, and,
- Don’t be ridiculous!
An old man leaning on a staff shouted.
- Human sacrifice? Are you saying we’ve been offering the villagers to the Sea God Cthanid? That’s absurd. I’m seventy years old. For seventy years, our faith has always been pious!
Hear, hear, he said.
The residents agreed with the old man’s words.
‘Did they not know the identity of Cthanid?’
After thinking for a moment, Abel,
‘I can’t trust them yet.’
He predicted as such and opened his mouth.
“Cthanid is a monster.”
When Abel declared, a moment of silence fell.
Then, the sound of hollow laughter spread. The residents of Portsmouth genuinely disbelieved Abel’s words.
“I knew this and punished the village chief. You must know that worshiping monsters and committing human sacrifice are taboos. Before I am a professor at Cia-Harphe Academy, I am a holy knight of the Papacy.”
Cults that worship monsters.
Or fanatics who commit human sacrifice.
It is my duty to execute them immediately upon discovery.
Abel whispered as such.
“Therefore, I declare to you.”
Forty-nine adults, and one child.
The custom of enjoying a certain amount of peace by offering them as sacrifices.
Abel recited the facts based on what Robert had said. To be certain of the residents’ true intentions, more interrogation was needed. He intended to break their faith, stimulate their conscience, and observe their reactions. Their anger, contempt, and jeers were all intended by Abel. The more excited they became, the more they were bound to reveal their true feelings.
- Eleanor Portsmouth.
- The miko of the Sea God Cthanid is an orphan brought from outside? That’s ridiculous. She is the daughter of the sea!
- I’ve seen two representatives of the sea god in my lifetime! The representative of the sea god dies before reaching adulthood. That’s not because they were offered as a sacrifice, but because of providence!
- What has the Papacy done for us? What have they done for you to punish us as you please! The Olmstead family is a family that has sacrificed for Portsmouth for generations.
- That’s right! Didn’t the Papacy turn a blind eye to us? What did you do while the village was collapsing? And now you’re here with those brats, saying you’ll save us? I didn’t believe it from the start!
- Where is the miko! Don’t tell me…….
- ……Did you kill her?
What a mess.
Abel thought, tilting his head to one side.
The pouring rain drenched Abel. He ran his fingers through his silver hair, which had become limp with moisture, and tried to sort out the facts. It seemed the residents of Portsmouth genuinely did not know. That was the analysis for now.
It must be because it was too old. The method of offering prey to a monster became a religion, and they must have worshiped the monster fabricated as a sea god for generations. In the meantime, the truth must have been omitted and the barbarity concealed through doctrine.
‘The mikos die before reaching adulthood.’
That cannot be providence.
To Abel, an outsider, it seemed like a ridiculous belief.
It was different for them. They had stayed in Portsmouth for so long that it was considered providence.
‘The Papacy turned a blind eye to us.’
Resentment towards the Platinum Round Table Orthodoxy.
That was also supporting their faith.
Not only the Papacy, but the empire also did not act immediately for Portsmouth. Manpower was limited, and Portsmouth was a region of no importance.
‘Too many interests are intertwined.’
As Abel was thinking that and sighing,
“Yes……, it has become quite sudden.”
Suddenly, a voice was heard from the gap in the crowd.
It was Pnakotic. The aged elf was approaching Abel. When Pnakotic, who had been living alone on the hill, arrived, the surroundings became quiet. The crowd made way and glanced at Pnakotic. At a glance, it also seemed like they were wary.
“Listen, human.”
After glancing at Robert’s corpse,
Pnakotic opened her mouth toward Abel.
In a small voice, so that only Abel could hear.
“The children gathered here are too young, are they not. They have lived for too short a time to be questioned about the truth. Is that not so.”
It must be so for Pnakotic.
Even an old man of nearly seventy would be considered a mere child to Pnakotic.
“So come to me. I will tell you everything.”
After whispering so, Pnakotic was silent for a moment,
“And please……”
Do not be too offended.
Since you seem to be playing the villain,
I too will try to quiet the crowd with villainy, she said.
After whispering quietly,
“──You!”
Slap──!
She slapped Abel across the cheek.
She shouted, feigning genuine anger.
“What do you know! I am an elf who has lived for a thousand years!”
Say it to my face!
Go ahead and say that our faith is wrong