novelraw Chapter 184 : Chapter 184
Chapter 184 : Chapter 184
Chapter 184: The Banality of Evil (1)
Dauane, the western border city of the Holy Numeros Empire.
Geographers spoke of it with one voice. Dauane was a city cursed by water. One day in every three was dreary or battered by wind and rain, while the waterways surrounding the city had fallen so deeply into decay that the chance for repairs had long since passed.
Above all, anyone who saw it for himself would have to agree. On some pattering rainy day, the canals would swell and overflow, and bodies would float up. Bluishly swollen skin engraved somewhere with a knife wound, curse it all.
"Hello."
Today was no different.
Shhhhhhh, as the downpour poured down, meanwhile,
"What a lovely night."
Henrietta whispered softly.
She had just drawn up a net. Inside the net she had set in the canal, a thoroughly bloated body was caught.
"How did you come to die?"
Sex: male.
More than ten external wounds were carved into his chest.
It was not the work of a monster. She couldn't judge precisely, but he seemed to have been stabbed to death with a blade.
"No valuables. If you were robbed, I'm sorry for you."
Henrietta rummaged through the man's clothing.
One gold coin. That was all. For someone dressed in a formal suit, the pockets were utterly bare. No matter how she fished through them, nothing came to hand.
"Excuse me."
Henrietta didn't mind.
After slipping the grime-coated gold coin into her pocket, she loaded the man's body onto her worn-down cart. The weight was considerable for a frail body to handle. Even so, there was no other choice. After struggling with it at length, she finally managed to load the man's body onto the cart, and,
"Now we'll be on our way."
Kirrrik.
Henrietta pushed the worn cart forward.
There were numerous bodies piled up in the cart. All of them were bodies she had pulled up over the course of the day.
"That's right. That's right."
Over the road that had crumbled like a shattered picture frame,
Henrietta's cart rolled slowly onward.
"All of you are dead. Really, you are. You'll have to accept it someday."
Like some sort of magic circle.
That's what Dauane's chaotically extended roads were like.
In that case, could even the sound of old cart wheels become a chant?
Henrietta thought of it on a whim. The wooden wheels rotating laboriously glided through the downpour, and the tongue of Henrietta talking to herself slipped on smoothly. Vagrants moaned beneath awnings. Thugs with faces decorated in tattoos laughed loudly. In the deepest reaches of the sewers, monsters growled every so often, and,
"I wonder if your souls, too, can reach the Underworld."
Of course.
But even if they could, they cannot.
It's because they cannot become magic that they all go hungry.
Henrietta held this belief beyond doubt.
"Of course it's possible."
Kirrrik.
The cart came to a halt.
Henrietta let out a long breath.
After roughly wiping her rain-streaked face with her sleeve,
"As long as a proper funeral is held......"
Then, looking over the bodies filling the cart,
She moved her steps toward the building standing before her.
'Pest and Corpse Control Office.' The phrase engraved on the old, shabby signboard stood out. Henrietta pounded the rusted door knocker, thud thud.
"What is it."
Creak.
The iron grate opened, and the clerk's face appeared.
An elderly troll with liver spots around his eyes.
"I brought guests. Seven of them, in all."
"Tch, corpses again. You sure dragged them all here."
Come in, and.
The clerk unlatched the entry.
"Too many people dying these days. As much of a dump as this neighborhood is. Could the Frozen Color bastards be creeping around?"
The clerk thumbed through his shelving.
Spitting curses, he began searching for paperwork.
"Let's see. The corpse collection certificates are......, damn. Only a few left. When it's light out I'll have to make a trip to the print shop."
Henrietta waited calmly.
Standing politely at the doorway.
"Here."
Before long, the clerk handed her the form.
Along with a cheap quill pen and a pouch holding the reward money.
"Sign it roughly and leave the bodies outside. No way I'm getting through them today. A day's delay in the funeral won't turn anyone into a wraith."
"Of course. Everyone will understand."
"They'd better. I'm breaking my back out here for them."
In any case, Henrietta,
Go warm yourself up before you leave.
The clerk murmured.
"I happen to have a bit of coffee left. Some guests stopped by. Go sit by the fireplace there. I'll bring you some coffee soon."
Guests?
Henrietta tilted her head.
There weren't many people who would visit a place like this. She knew because she hauled corpses here every day. It was either officials on business, or other corpse collectors like herself......,
"Didn't I tell you, Monica."
Henrietta looked toward the fireplace.
A young man with hair the color of ash-dark silver came into view.
"Didn't I tell you the lighter the load the better? You're worn out because you brought along a pile of useless things."
"......I get it already."
As the young man spoke in an indifferent voice, meanwhile,
A girl yet to come of age was sitting on a sofa.
Wrapped in a blanket, shivering.
"But no matter how I think about it, it felt like I'd need them. Look right now, see? It's thanks to the blanket I brought that I can warm up."
"A blanket for mere cold like this?"
"That's the kind of thing you can say because you aren't in your right mind. It's the dead of winter right now, Mr. Abel Argento."
The young man and the girl were having a conversation.
At a glance, they seemed to get along well.
"In any case, we need to hurry to the inn and wash up......"
Then the girl's gaze tilted toward Henrietta,
And just as the young man was turning his head toward Henrietta,
"Hello."
Henrietta wore a smile.
She waved her hand in greeting.
"What a lovely night."
***
'This person......'
Monica narrowed her eyes.
She looked at the woman warming herself near the fireplace.
Henrietta Owings. Around Abel's age, perhaps. Her brown hair, sticking out every which way, looked coarse, and her pale blue eyes were loose and unfocused, as though she were under some drug.
'......A corpse collector, she said.'
In Dauane, rewards were paid to those who brought in unidentified bodies. Corpses left unattended for too long would mutate into wraiths, and the City Guard alone could not recover every single body. Because of that, people who made a living searching out corpses had emerged. Henrietta was one of those corpse collectors.
'Creepy.'
Slurp.
Monica swallowed a mouthful of coffee.
It tastes awful. Coffee really doesn't agree with me.
Some three or four hours had passed since arriving in Dauane.
She had left the capital with Abel at dusk, arrived nearby via a Dimensional Door, then moved onward by carriage. The carriage had jolted her half to death. Her stomach still felt queasy.
'Professor Argento......'
And so Monica looked at Abel.
Abel, arms folded, was watching the clerk.
'Why did he tell me to come here. I haven't heard a word about any of it......'
Damn it, bloody hell, confound it all.
The clerk walked along, tossing out curses at every step.
After handing Henrietta a cup of coffee, he stepped up to Abel and held out a bundle of documents.
"That's everything."
"Is that so."
Abel received the documents.
A report on the incidence of warlocks, or apostates.
After skimming the title written on the cover, he began to examine the contents. Grand Duke Marchand had likely made contact with the Parousia Denomination here in Dauane. He had to grasp the truth of this place before setting off for the former territory of the Vianchiel Kingdom. West to east — he would end up cutting across the Empire's territory in a straight line.
'Iris will have already departed for the east.'
There wasn't much time.
Not only Iris — those who had witnessed Grand Duke Marchand's inquisition must also have begun to move. Above all, the Saintess among the Mother God's Right Hand was likely in the Parousia Denomination's custody, and,
"The material is insufficient."
Abel muttered in a voice tinged with a sigh.
The contents of the documents were far too thin.
"Have some pity on our situation too."
The clerk scratched his forehead with his index finger.
"Paladin, sir, you must have already figured it out. Dauane is a lawless zone, a hotbed of crime and monsters. Have you not seen the signboard out front? We treat pests and corpses as equivalents here."
Meaning the number of cockroaches and the number of corpses are about even.
The clerk murmured.
"I am aware."
Clunk.
Abel placed the documents on the table.
"Which is precisely why the number of apostates won't be few. But the report says otherwise. The most recent case of capture is from four years ago."
"What do you expect us to really do about it. The number of apostates might well not be small, as you say. Even so, there's no way. We can't just haul them off and throw them in a cell."
Damn it, and.
The clerk clicked his tongue and went on.
"The Papacy has no interest in the east, does it. I know I'm in no position to grumble. Suppressing the Demon Realm alone must be a struggle."
But what's to be done.
There are limits. Limits to accommodating reality through logic.
Subjects are dying one after another, day after day.
As the clerk murmured on,
"......Manpower will be replenished in short order."
Abel whispered in a courteous tone.
Dauane's situation had been somewhat in his considerations. Even so, it was strange. Public order had markedly deteriorated within the span of a few years. The personnel dispatched annually by the Papacy were failing to keep pace with the city's plight. It was surely linked to the expansion of the Parousia Denomination.
"Thank you for your assistance."
"Never mind. I'll charge separately for the coffee."
That was why he had come here.
An institution where unidentified bodies were reported was likely to offer some sort of clue. Black magic required the souls of others. A body whose soul had been wholly taken was reduced to a corpse. From an apostate's standpoint, they would inevitably have to agonize over how to dispose of the bodies.
But it's fine. For now, this will do.
Abel thought.
"I give you my word. Dauane's current state will be reported to the Papacy at once."
"Do as you see fit. I won't charge you for the coffee."
"No. Charge me."
Abel rummaged through the inner pocket of his formal coat.
He placed twenty gold coins on the table. A considerable sum for a beverage.
"So, from here on......"
Suddenly, Abel's eyes tilted toward the fireplace.
He gazed at Henrietta, who was sipping her coffee. Noticing Abel's gaze, Henrietta waved her hand.
"I intend to find lodgings, but......"
"Come to our house."
At Abel's words, Henrietta spoke up as though she'd been waiting.
A brief silence flowed. Henrietta looked back and forth between Monica and Abel, then went on.
"The inns in Dauane are dangerous. Robbery and murder happen frequently there. Our house is safe, though. My father set up a bit of a Barrier. He cut up scrolls and buried them in the yard."
"No, we're......"
Monica opened her mouth.
A kindness too firmly set off her suspicions.
Above all, even if robbers did break in, no one could stand up to Abel.
"......My thanks."
Abel, for his part, gave a single nod.
Professor Argento, and. Monica tugged at Abel's sleeve and whispered.
"You'd be better off doing that."
The clerk murmured in a low voice.
"Rather than stay at an inn in this town, take the girl up on her offer. I'll vouch for her. Henrietta is diligent and a good girl. Of course, she does look a little dull in the head, but......"
"There's no need to be so wary."
Henrietta smiled softly.
"I'm asking for a trade. The lodging fee is something you must pay."
"Of course."
"Very well, strangers. I'll wait outside."
Henrietta bowed her head and stepped out.
Creeak. Just as she was passing through the office door,
"Is this really all right?"
Monica whispered toward Abel.
"It's a little strange. Out of the blue she tells us to come to her house......"
"From now on, be on guard."
Abel murmured with an indifferent expression.
Mother God, Search of Shadows.
Then he recited the chant.
'Eye That Seeks the Shadow.' Divine magic recorded in the second chapter of the Mother God Theory.
"You had better prepare for combat."
A small mass of light took shape in Abel's palm.
At a glance, it resembled an eyeball. 'Eye That Seeks the Shadow' was a spell designed for tracking apostates, and it would turn red in response to black magic.
"That woman, without a doubt......"
And so, before long, it turned red.
The mass of light that had bloomed in Abel's palm.
"......Is an apostate."
That was why it was enough. For now, this would do.
Abel had thought exactly that.