novelraw Chapter 54 : Chapter 54
Chapter 54 : Chapter 54
Chapter 54: Killing Existence (1)
Late at night, in the capital city of Naflansee.
The top floor of the Orléans family's villa.
“Good evening, Stanzi.”
Iris sat facing the bed. The light from the oil lamp on the table flickered. Was it because of the smell of oil it produced? The breath of Konstanze, lying in bed, grew labored.
“How was your day today?”
Around the bed, magitech devices were in operation. They were facilities to replace Konstanze's internal organs. A black, cold cube was Konstanze's liver, spleen, and pancreas.
“It must have been painful.”
Iris lifted Konstanze's hair. She stroked her dry forehead and smiled bitterly. Her friend, who was pinned to her sickbed and only occasionally moaned, was ironically alive.
It was because she was alive that she was in pain. If the life-sustaining treatment were stopped, she would soon be at peace. The magitech devices connected to Konstanze's body were not a lifeline. They were nothing but shackles.
‘Is this also a noble's way?’
Iris thought, gazing at Konstanze's face.
A true Saintess would not have let her live on so forcefully. Death is but the beginning of a journey toward a new life. She would have smiled and seen off her friend who was departing for the Underworld. Consoling the dying was also a Saintess's duty.
‘If I were a Saintess, surely…….’
Iris stood up.
A creaking chair. A cold wind passed through the gap.
“──Who is it.”
Iris swung her right arm.
Thud, he went. The sound of metal hitting the marble floor.
A mace was now held in Iris's right hand. It was a large, red, five-headed chain mace, like the shinbone of a giant.
“It's me.”
Meanwhile, a voice came from within the shadows.
It was Abel. Abel was sitting on the windowsill with an indifferent expression. He must have climbed up the wall.
“It's past midnight, Abel.”
Iris said, looking at the mace.
A light flashed for a moment, and the heavy mace disappeared without a trace.
“I suppose you didn't think I would be asleep?”
“I apologize.”
Abel shrugged his shoulders.
“My sense of time has become disordered since I became unable to sleep.”
“A lie. You must have thought I was suffering from insomnia.”
“It wasn't just that.”
Abel said, taking a step.
“By the way, you seem to be agitated, Iris. Even though you have surrounded the place with dozens of layers of barriers, who else besides me could possibly reach this room? For you to draw your weapon, unable to even calculate that, is this place…….”
A precious place to you?
Abel asked so.
“I will not answer.”
“I will respect that.”
Abel stopped.
He stood beside Iris and looked down at the bed. A gaunt woman was lying there. A thread-like breath hovered around the woman's nose. Witnessing her barely undulating larynx, Abel sensed it instinctively. That this woman was the real Konstanze von Theresia, the Vice President of CIAR.
“You may think I'm foolish.”
Iris said in a quiet tone.
“You, of all people, would know. Without me, Stanzi wouldn't last a week. She is a child who should have died long ago. Even with countless magitech devices, even with the authority of a Saintess, a complete cure is impossible.”
“Yes, you are foolish.”
Abel answered readily.
He turned his back and sat down facing the table.
Abel's face flickered beyond the light of the oil lamp.
“Do not seek confirmation of your foolishness from others. There is no desire more foolish and ruder than that.”
“……My apologies. You are right.”
Iris sat down across from Abel.
She couldn't easily open her mouth. Her head drooped because her face was flushed. She tried to hide her expression by brushing her purple hair down, but even so, Abel would probably just see it as a childish act.
Iris was aware. That the ‘Mother God's Left Hand’ had to keep a distance from the world. As a being who would leave after the Demon King's defeat, as a being who would be sacrificed during the process of subjugation, the reason Iris was keeping Konstanze alive was nothing but a selfish desire.
“I came to report.”
Abel also knew Iris's inner thoughts.
He was just pretending not to know.
“The condition of the doll acting as the Vice President of CIAR has worsened. It must be because of your command. She is optimistic about everything more than necessary. Thanks to that, it has become a headache.”
“I apologize.”
Iris let out a sigh.
“I will readjust it in the near future.”
“There is no need for that.”
Didn't you say your friend wished for it?
Abel asked so.
“A life of peacefully teaching children. Then, please leave it be. I will take care of it myself.”
Next, he said.
Abel continued in a business-like tone.
“The members of the Saint-Pierre family are being continuously murdered. Today marks the fifth person.”
“I have also confirmed it.”
Iris's eyes twitched slightly.
The gossips had begun to pay attention to the Saint-Pierre family. Assassinations due to power struggles were common, but the speed was too fast. Who on earth was slaughtering the members of the marquisate one after another? Regardless of the place, and without leaving any evidence…….
The situation was changing rapidly. To confirm the connection between the Saint-Pierre family and the apostates. That order from the emperor had become meaningless long ago. The Saint-Pierre family was closer to a group of fanatics, and its foundation was being shaken by an unknown murderer.
“What is the Marquis Saint-Pierre's movement?”
“They say he is praying.”
At Abel's question, Iris answered with a hollow laugh.
“Without showing himself in public, it seems he is just repeating his prayers. He hasn't expressed any stance, and his forces are also operating as usual.”
What do you think, she said.
Iris asked Abel.
“Deserick de Saint-Pierre. I am also considering the possibility that he is behind this. You are too, aren't you?”
“Of course.”
Abel and Iris sensed it instinctively.
The madness inherent in Deserick. But they were not wary of an individual's madness.
They were watching the madness of the era. Epezeria was a world where religion held power, and there were also historical blemishes based on fanaticism. Until a few centuries ago, witch hunts were rampant, and supremacism toward certain races or species was prevalent. Abel and Iris were wary of an era where fanaticism had preserved its lineage.
“Look at this.”
Whoosh, he went.
Iris's right hand stroked the empty air.
A teleportation spell followed. A bundle of documents spread out on the table.
“You said to investigate the vulnerable, right? I've made some inquiries.”
Abel reviewed the bundle of documents.
First, there was no sign of the Saint-Pierre family engaging in human trafficking. That was understandable. Since slavery was banned, the act of buying and selling intelligent life forms was a clear crime. There was no way a clear trace would be left.
Second, the intelligence network of the White Night Ball was also of no help. It was impossible for facts about the vulnerable to have been collected. Because the union of nobles would not be watching the homeless, the disabled, or the extremely poor in the slums.
But third…….
“Charity work is a good means to grasp the reality of the vulnerable.”
Iris said, resting her chin on her hand.
Abel nodded his head. Iris was right. The Orléans family was running a standardized charity organization, and through it, they were exploring the underbelly of the Empire. In other words, they were observing the vulnerable from the closest place.
“As you'll see from reading the documents, the situation in the north is unusual. Every year, starting from early winter, cases of disappearance become frequent.”
“I am confirming it.”
Abel's gaze narrowed.
It was a strange statistic. The number of disappearance cases increased sharply in November, and then decreased again in December. Those belonging to the vulnerable, and among them, children with disabilities, were disappearing.
“Was it called the season of the Changeling?”
Abel recited an old tale.
“In the north, they called children with disabilities changelings. In the sense of being descendants of fairies.”
“I know. They believed that their real child was kidnapped by fairies, and that they were raising the changeling the fairies left behind instead. And the season of the changeling is……”
“The time to return the descendant of the fairies, around the beginning of winter.”
It is to abandon the child before braving the cold.
Leaving disabled children alone outside the village, they believed the fairies took them when they soon disappeared. And so, they felt no guilt. The current civilization pointed out that this was a fiction, but the contempt for the disabled had not disappeared. The perception that they were disabled because the Main Gods had cursed them remained firm.
“November is……”
Thus, Abel muttered bitterly.
“The time when the Saint-Pierre family's banquet is held.”
“That is correct. It's not far off. It will begin after the birthday celebration of the first Pope.”
A moment of silence.
An unpleasant premonition settled in the silence.
Human sacrifice. Abel and Iris were considering the worst-case scenario.
“Continue to watch the north. We need definite circumstances.”
Clatter, he went.
Abel stood up from his chair.
“I will observe CIAR.”
“Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
Iris also stood up.
“She is a student in your class, right? The only daughter of Marquis Saint-Pierre. If someone truly wants the ruin of the Saint-Pierre family, and is thus killing the members of the family, then Fleur de Saint-Pierre would be the most important target.”
“That is correct. I will watch over that child.”
Abel stood facing the window.
A cool wind shook Abel's silver hair. The night view of the capital, spread out beyond the curtains, was brilliant. But all lights cast a shadow, a scene that revealed the light and dark of the so-called noble society.
‘I must consider all possibilities.’
Abel thought, bowing his head.
He had to dig into the inside story based on the surface of the Saint-Pierre family. Therefore, he had to accept all possibilities.
For example, the possibility that Deserick had purged the members of his family.
Or……
“Fleur de Saint-Pierre told Monika.”
The possibility that Fleur was deeply involved.
“That it was the doing of Marquis Saint-Pierre who wiped out Monika's homeland. Did you know?”
Abel looked back at Iris.
Iris's eyes curved playfully.
“I promised not to tell you, but breaking a promise to children is also one of the privileges of an adult. Isn't that right, Abel?”
“I suppose so. It would have been better if you had kept your promise.”
Because I knew everything.
Abel muttered so.
“Tell me the probability, Iris.”
Abel's gaze tilted toward Iris.
Iris let out a sigh. Not an answer, but a probability. That was what Abel wanted. He knew that there was no clear evidence left.
In the first place, it was to destroy the evidence that they had annihilated it. During the Mirror War, the 2nd Prince's faction had planned a forbidden magic experiment in the provinces, and when they were in danger of being caught, they erased the traces along with the place names. Monika's homeland, Sarrifis, was one of them. The residents of the village became sacrifices without knowing why.
“The probability is low.”
Iris answered, crossing her arms.
“Because no evidence could be found. As you know, the village was annihilated before the army entered. The enemy, our allies, and the innocent all lost their lives together.”
However, she said.
Iris added in a quiet tone.
“We need to look at the circumstances. Considering the movements of the Saint-Pierre family during the Mirror War, the rumors circulating in noble society, and the post-war search process……”
It's not low, the probability.
It's probably high.
That was Iris's conclusion.
“But I'm curious. Why did she tell such a story? The only daughter of the Saint-Pierre family is……”
Abel remained silent.
Because he couldn't easily answer.
Fleur's words and actions seemed like a self-destructive move at a glance.
If it was for the sake of the family, there would have been no need to talk. If she hadn't told Monika, if she hadn't told Abel, there would have been no room to track her actions during the Mirror War.
In that case, if by any chance, Fleur de Saint-Pierre wanted the ruin of her family……,
“……Iris, investigate the mother of Fleur de Saint-Pierre.”
Abel stood on the windowsill.
A leap followed. Abel's figure disappeared, and the sound of rustling bushes was heard. Iris approached the window. She bit on a cigarette and stared into the distance. The undergrowth was crushed where Abel had walked.
‘Oh my.’
Iris rummaged through her matchbox.
‘The gardener will scream again.’