Chapter 85: The Holy Sword and the Oath (1)

Dominic stared coldly at the corpse before him.

A blasphemous demon.

A sinner who dared insult the Holy Saint with vile words.

His punishment had just been concluded.

With the help of the Brotherhood of the Righteous, that wicked demon had been vanquished.

Through cycles of healing and torment, the demon's mind was utterly shattered, ensuring he could never appear in this world again.

However, one problem remained...

"What should I even do with 'that'?"

The man before him was far more prominent than he had anticipated.

A figure of great renown, counted among the top five wealthiest individuals.

Not only that, but he was also an accomplished 8th-circle mage.

The room had held eight cardinals and twelve archbishops—practically the Holy Church's greatest forces gathered in one place.

Yet, despite such power, he had committed the foolish act of blasphemy in their presence, and now, he was reduced to this pitiful state.

In truth, this was not a man who should have met such an unremarkable end.

Sian's death would inevitably draw attention. No matter how hard one tried, it would never remain hidden.

Not that Dominic had any intention of hiding it in the first place.

Of course not.

This was no mere murder.

It was an exorcism.

That thing was no longer human.

Why should defeating a demon be treated as something shameful to hide?

"The question is how to present this to the world."

If he were to reveal this incident, it had to be done in a way that benefitted the Saint.

The Holy Church's misdeeds had already caused faith in God to plummet to rock bottom.

By their own failures, they had tarnished the name of God, and now they needed to reclaim it.

The question was, how best to use this incident to achieve that?

After much deliberation, Dominic came up with an idea—a way to restore God's name to its former glory.

"A grand judgment."

That was the answer.

A display so awe-inspiring that no one could help but marvel at God's magnificence.

The sight of God punishing evil would be etched into everyone's mind, compelling them to praise the Holy Saint.

With his decision made, Dominic no longer hesitated.

He marked the corpse with the symbol of the Brotherhood and left a message only the Saint could recognize. Then, he moved it to prepare for the grand spectacle.

*****

Sian Ludbeth was dead.

And it had to happen right after I told Miss Rubia that the problem with him would be resolved "soon."

Miss Rubia's face turned pale.

Her lips moved as though to form words, but nothing coherent came out.

The only sounds she managed were strange fragments: "Oh? Ah? Eh?" She repeated these nonsensical utterances over and over.

She had practically lost her ability to speak.

In hindsight, it wasn't surprising.

After all, with the timing of this event, it was only natural for anyone to suspect me.

To make matters worse, I had just been seen dismantling the training arena barehanded.

It was obvious what would happen next.

I'd dealt with situations like this before, so I was preparing to calm the panicked Miss Rubia when...

"...Ah! So that's how it is!"

What in the world is going on?

Miss Rubia regained her composure, her pale complexion giving way to color again. Her ability to speak had suddenly returned.

"You were planning to take care of him from the beginning, weren't you? Well, I suppose it makes sense. That guy was scum. Did you send Siel or Lien to handle it?"

She laughed, marveling at the timing, as if it was all part of a calculated plan.

The message left on the corpse.

Written in the name of the Brotherhood of the Righteous, it was an ancient script so cryptic it defied interpretation.

Miss Rubia mused that it was probably meant to throw the investigation off course.

"Well, killing an 8th-circle mage without lifting a finger is kind of absurd. Only a god could pull that off!"

She smiled brightly and added that, for the sake of her heart's health, I should let her know in advance before pulling something like this again.

I couldn't make sense of any of it.

Here I was, calmly piecing the situation together, while Miss Rubia concocted her own version of events and seemed completely satisfied with it.

This bizarre back-and-forth went on for a while until a familiar sound echoed through the room.

Another communication was coming in.

It appeared to be from an informant I had asked to investigate further.

The informant's face soon appeared on the screen, and she spoke.

"...Sian was killed by a massive sword of light that descended from the sky. All eyewitness accounts confirm this, so it must be true."

This was no ordinary assassination.

A colossal, mountain-like sword of light had fallen from the heavens and struck Sian down.

As though divine judgment had been delivered.

Miss Rubia's face turned deathly pale again.

"Only a god could..."

Miss Rubia's earlier words trailed off as she stared at me with a vacant expression, her gaze fixed on one thing: my wings.

The subtle glow they still emitted seemed to seal the misunderstanding.

It was obvious what conclusion she had drawn.

I quickly tried to think of a plausible explanation.

Of course, I had to.

The kind of power that could eliminate an 8th-circle mage without so much as lifting a finger, a force capable of raining divine punishment from above—it was no surprise that Miss Rubia's imagination was running wild.

If I didn't act, she would undoubtedly elevate me in her mind to something far beyond human.

But no reasonable excuse came to mind.

Honestly, it would've been strange if one had.

The information in the dossier Miss Rubia handed me confirmed it all.

Sian was a piece of trash who had operated hundreds of facilities similar to the mining site where I was first imprisoned.

On top of that, he had repeatedly obstructed the ventures I had set in motion.

I had every motive.

It was only natural for her to connect the glowing wings with the sword of light that descended from the heavens.

Finding a convincing way to clear my name in this situation? Impossible.

The best idea I could come up with was to laugh it off with something like, "Ta-da! Surprise!"

And so, a long, awkward silence stretched between us.

As the situation dragged on, Miss Rubia's face grew more and more filled with shock.

"Y-you're..."

She looked at me, her gaze as if fixed on something otherworldly.

I was unmistakably being misunderstood. The moment I realized that, the transmission resumed.

- "And next to the body was a statement left by the leader of the Black Fangs. It claimed that the demon who committed such heinous acts was judged in the name of God."

The perfectly timed message brought a smile to my face.

In a situation where I had been on the verge of being wrongly accused, the revelation that the Black Fangs leader was the true culprit was a relief.

- "If we uncover anything else, I'll report it immediately."

With that, the transmission ended.

The conclusion was clear: everything that had happened was the work of the Black Fangs' leader, with no connection to me whatsoever.

Surely, Miss Rubia's misunderstanding had also been cleared up.

...Or so I thought.

"...?"

But for some reason, the fear never left Miss Rubia's face.

She stared at me, mouth agape, with the same horrified expression as before.

The misunderstanding should have been resolved, so why was she still like this?

After a moment of thought, it dawned on me.

"Well... it makes sense when you think about it."

The Black Fangs.

Their reputation alone was enough to send shivers down anyone's spine.

While everything so far suggested they weren't outright villains, the sheer magnitude of their power was terrifying in its own right.

Dropping a colossal sword of light from the heavens to execute someone? It was a feat so godlike it was unnerving even to me.

If I felt this way, how much more terrified must Miss Rubia be, given her timid nature?

She must have been utterly shaken by witnessing such an overwhelming display of power.

Watching her trembling like that, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

In this moment, there was only one thing I could do.

"Please don't worry so much, Miss Rubia."

I spoke gently, taking her hand in mine to reassure her.

"When you think about it, there's no need to be concerned about this anymore, right?"

Though the Black Fangs leader's power was unsettling, the situation itself wasn't as dire as it seemed.

At the very least, Sian would no longer be interfering with our ventures.

"This problem has been resolved simply and cleanly. That's something to be glad about, isn't it?"

Miss Rubia nodded at my words.

But I could tell her agreement wasn't genuine.

Her nod was far too intense, and her face looked like she might burst into tears at any moment.

Her fear clearly hadn't subsided.

So, I held her hand a little tighter.

To ensure she wouldn't feel so alone in her anxiety.

To remind her that I was always by her side.

"If you ever have any worries, please come to me right away. I'll gladly lend you my hand, no matter what."

With the warmest smile I could muster, I said those words to Miss Rubia.

Chapter 86: The Holy Sword and the Oath (2)

Miss Rubia had been acting strange.

Well, to be fair, her odd behavior wasn't exactly new. It was more of a constant in her life.

But lately, it felt like her strangeness had intensified.

Sitting on my bed, I replayed the events from a few hours ago in my mind.

"D-do you know? Actually, I've always admired the God of Light..."

It was the day after the incident with Sian. Miss Rubia had timidly approached me and blurted out those words, completely out of the blue.

She launched into a sudden, unprompted monologue about her supposed faith in the God of Light, clearly trying to convince me of her devotion.

Caught off guard by her unexpected topic, I hesitated before responding. Maybe she was under some kind of misconception because of my wings? Did she think I had some divine connection to the God of Light?

"I think you're misunderstanding something. I have absolutely no relationship with the God of Light," I said, trying to clear the air.

"I'm neither an apostle of the God of Light nor the god himself. We're completely unrelated."

I made it clear that whatever she believed, it wasn't true.

"Of course, what you choose to believe in is entirely up to you," I added, respecting her freedom of religion. Maybe she was simply here for an innocent chat about faith.

But as soon as I finished speaking, Miss Rubia's reaction completely blindsided me.

"I-I'm sorry! I don't actually believe in the God of Light!" she cried out, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I just said it because I thought... maybe it'd mean something. The truth is, you're the only one I believe in!"

And then she burst into tears.

Bewildered, I stood up to check on her, but she clung to my ankle with a desperate grip, sobbing uncontrollably and begging me not to leave her.

She must have misunderstood, thinking I was planning to abandon her.

"I-I'm sorry for everything! Please, don't throw me away!"

It was a bizarre and overwhelming scene—an adult woman throwing herself to the floor, pleading like a child.

In the end, I had no choice but to calm her down.

"I'm not going to abandon you," I said, trying to reassure her with whatever comforting words I could muster.

In my flustered state, I might have gone a bit overboard, saying things like, "You're the most important person to me." But given the situation, I didn't have much of a choice. ⱤÅＮ𝘰𝐁ÈṢ

Eventually, I managed to soothe her and send her back to her room.

Now, sitting alone on my bed, I couldn't help but feel a headache coming on as I recalled the ordeal.

Miss Rubia's antics weren't unusual, but this time it felt like she'd crossed a line.

"She's been pushing herself too hard lately."

The thought crept into my mind naturally.

I wasn't a businessperson, so I couldn't fully grasp the struggles of running a business. But I knew enough to understand that managing even a single shop was incredibly tough, let alone overseeing multiple enterprises like Miss Rubia did.

And she wasn't just running them—she was doing so while hiding her true identity.

The exhaustion she must have felt was unimaginable.

Even though she insisted she was fine, it was clear she was carrying an enormous burden. No matter how powerful she was, she was still human. Fatigue was inevitable.

Her strange behavior might very well be a sign of overwork.

Thinking that, a mix of guilt and gratitude welled up in me.

"I need to take better care of her."

If Miss Rubia ever found herself in danger, I wouldn't hesitate to help her, no matter the risk.

Of course, avoiding such danger in the first place would be ideal. But for now, I resolved to support her in any way I could—whether that meant lending an ear when she needed to vent or stepping in to resolve any troubling issues for her.

With that, I turned my thoughts back to the current situation.

"Sian Ludbes's death..."

And the Holy Church.

Major events had been unfolding one after another, shifting the tides of power.

The Holy Church, which had maintained its influence for centuries, was crumbling. New factions were rising, titans of the empire's economy were falling, and winds of change were sweeping through the empire.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say the entire empire was in flux.

"We need to stay vigilant."

Although most of these events had worked in our favor so far, we couldn't let our guard down. The empire might be chasing shadows now, wasting time, but it was far from powerless.

With three swordmasters and countless hidden weapons at their disposal, the empire remained a formidable force.

They might have stumbled repeatedly, but they weren't to be underestimated.

One misstep, and we could find ourselves branded as traitors and hunted down like prey.

Which is why we needed strength—not just to survive the currents of change but to shape them ourselves.

"The forces we've gathered so far are impressive, but it's not enough."

Power was always in short supply.

The final boss of the last saga was the Demon King of Domination, a being who absorbed the strength of beasts to wield the power of two.

If the final boss of this new saga is anything like that... they'll be even stronger.

It's just a hunch, but I'm certain of one thing: they won't be weaker than what we've faced before.

So, it was best to brace myself for an opponent far stronger than the one in the previous saga.

"In any case, I need to prepare thoroughly."

Whether to prevent future destruction or to build the strength to withstand the sway of other forces, reinforcing our power was essential.

And I already had an idea of how to achieve that.

"The Holy Sword."

For some reason I couldn't quite grasp, I—a nonbeliever—had gained both stigmata and an immense reservoir of divine power.

Normally, divine power and stigmata were specialized for healing and exorcism, and they weren't particularly effective in enhancing offensive capabilities. But with the Holy Sword, things were different.

With this divine power, I could unleash the Holy Sword's full potential.

Perhaps, even in its broken state, the Holy Sword could surpass the might of the complete sword once wielded by the protagonist.

"The restoration is about halfway complete, they said."

The blacksmith had attempted to restore the Holy Sword using leftover artifacts and had reported partial success.

Though greedy for money, his skills were undeniably exceptional.

I'd left the sword with him, thinking it was only a matter of time before it was fully restored.

"It's probably better to retrieve it now, though."

There were experiments I wanted to conduct, and more importantly, the Holy Sword could serve as a crucial asset in emergencies.

Admittedly, the likelihood of a Swordmaster barging into this place unannounced was slim, but it wasn't zero.

"Besides, I can handle the restoration myself if necessary."

Though I'd entrusted the task to the blacksmith due to other pressing matters, I was more familiar with the theoretical aspects of the game's system.

I could even hire a few people, set up my own forge, and handle the repairs myself.

Or, if it came to it, I could simply overwhelm the blacksmith with my resources and bring him under my wing.

The Holy Sword had grown too important to leave unattended. The investment would be worth it.

Regardless of the specific approach, my next step was clear.

"It seems my destination is set."

The blacksmith's district.

I moved quickly.

Of course, that didn't mean I was literally walking there. The village of the dwarves, where the blacksmith's district was located, was over a month's journey on foot.

"Flying would get me there in three days, but..."

Unless I wanted to paint a target on my back for the empire, advertising my presence wasn't a good idea.

Fortunately, I could adjust the size of my wings enough to conceal them under clothing. I decided to take the train instead.

Knock, knock.

I knocked on Miss Rubia's door, intending to inform her of my plans.

But no response came, no matter how long I waited.

Curious, I opened the door and stepped inside, only to find Miss Rubia fast asleep, drooling slightly.

She must have dozed off while reading a book.

[How to Overcome Fear]

[Ancient Monsters, Demons, and Gods]

[Terrifying Beings from Beyond the World]

I couldn't fathom why she'd been reading such books.

[Adult Diapers: Aging Isn't Something to Be Ashamed Of!]

There weren't any elderly people in this mansion, so I had no idea why that pamphlet was on her desk either.

But seeing her sleep so soundly, I decided not to disturb her and quietly closed the door.

Taking the train required a noble's company, but fortunately, there was another noble in this house.

I headed to her room.

"You're here," she greeted, her tone calm.

Her blue ponytail swayed slightly as she spoke.

Lucy Valierre.

It seemed I'd be traveling with her on this journey.

Chapter 87: The Holy Sword and the Oath (3)

Here's one thing I've come to learn recently:

Lucy was far more obedient than I initially thought.

I barely mentioned that we had somewhere to go together.

Before I could even explain the details, she began preparing to leave.

When I asked her if she wasn't curious about where we were going or if she had time to spare, she simply replied that none of that mattered. Only my will did.

"If it is your desire, I will simply act upon it."

Such a textbook answer.

It was the very image of a stereotypical knight.

This definitely wasn't how she used to be.

When we first met, she was timid and somewhat naïve. But now, there was no trace of that earlier impression.

She was still technically just a trainee knight.

Yet her demeanor and strength had nothing of the rookie about them.

As I mulled over these changes, one particular thought struck me.

"Come to think of it, how did you handle your status as a knight?"

This could get complicated.

Since she hadn't been officially knighted, she wouldn't have the Empire's self-destruct sigil engraved on her.

Still, the fact that she belonged to the Empire's knighthood hadn't changed.

If she had been AWOL this whole time, things could get ugly if she was caught.

Worried, I decided to ask her.

"If that's what you're concerned about, it's fine. I was dismissed just yesterday."

Lucy answered calmly.

I blinked in confusion.

She'd left for somewhere alone as soon as she regained her strength, and now she claimed to have gotten herself dismissed during that time?

Is that even possible?

I stared at Lucy with doubt, and as if noticing my gaze, she began to explain further.

"I figured if I simply quit, it would look suspicious. So, I cut off my arm."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Certain I must have misunderstood, I focused on her explanation.

"I reported that I'd been injured during duty and couldn't recover, even with the temple's help. The knight order promptly expelled me."

No matter how much I listened, the story didn't change.

My face naturally twisted in shock.

Setting aside the Empire's cruelty of dismissing someone without compensation the moment they became one-armed,

She did that to herself?

To leave the Empire's army as quickly as possible?

Who in their right mind would cut off their own arm for something like that? Without anesthesia, it must've hurt like hell!

"Please don't worry. I can regenerate my arm anytime."

Lucy reassured me nonchalantly, even adding a polite thank-you for my concern.

"I'm ready to leave. Let's go, my lord."

Strapping her sword to her side, Lucy stood up.

After spouting one insane remark after another, she remained utterly composed.

I found myself at a loss for words.

Sure, with the Geass in place, I knew she was bound to obey my commands.

And judging by her current demeanor, it was clear she was fiercely loyal, more likely to defend me with her life than harm me.

But still... this was a bit much.

...Should I just wake up Miss Rubia and drag her along instead?

I let out a long sigh, pushing the thought aside, and got to my feet.

Something about the journey ahead started to feel deeply unsettling.

*****

The train's body gleamed in a sophisticated black.

Intricate golden gears and a transparent tube filled with blue mana stones coursing within gave it an elegant, almost magical appearance.

Every time I see it, it takes my breath away.

It was a train overflowing with steampunk charm. Of course, it irked me a little that only nobles and their attendants were allowed to board.

While I admired the train's details, Lucy handled the ticketing and identity verification up front.

Unlike with Miss Rubia, the process seemed to be taking a lot longer this time.

Well, it made sense. The Valierre family had fallen from grace, after all.

Even among nobles, the treatment was bound to differ.

Still, it wasn't something worth dwelling on.

After about thirty minutes, we were allowed to board.

Since the train had separate cars for nobles and their attendants, Lucy and I had to enter separately.

I wandered around for a bit, looking for a suitable seat, and finally settled in one.

There wasn't much to do during the trip, so I sat idly, watching the scenery pass by through the window.

Then, I heard laughter.

It wasn't a pleasant sound.

At first faint, the laughter grew louder, until I turned to find its source.

Seated next to me was an elderly man, laughing like a madman.

Is something wrong? Concerned, I was about to ask when the man suddenly rose to his feet.

Drawing everyone's attention, the old man strode to the center of the car with a deliberate air.

And then...

His face began to melt.

It was the telltale sign of a disguise spell unraveling.

"At last, the time has come."

His true face was revealed: a man with a head full of black hair and scars crisscrossing his features, wearing a sinister grin.

The abrupt transformation plunged the car into chaos.

But the man paid no mind to the uproar around him. Still grinning, he began to speak.

"Nobles and their lapdogs! Your judgment day has arrived. We, the 'Harbingers of the Apocalypse,' are here to deliver your sentence."

As soon as he said that, the color drained from everyone's faces.

Of course, it was obvious what was happening.

A suspicious man who had boarded the train using a disguise spell. His open hatred toward the nobles.

And this train—practically a symbol of noble privilege—was precisely the kind of target an anti-Imperial group would fixate on.

He was a terrorist.

A terrorist was on the same train as me.

Biting my lip, I quickly tried to think.

Where was the bomb?

Could it be stopped?

What was the best course of action?

But no answers came.

There couldn't be any.

While neutralizing the man himself might be possible, handling the bomb was another story.

There was no sign of a detonator in his hands.

That meant it was highly likely the bomb was on a timer, set to detonate automatically.

Even if Lucy and I made it out unscathed, everyone else on board would be caught in the explosion.

Countless lives would be lost.

It was a hopeless situation.

And cruelly, time marched on.

The terrorist opened his mouth again.

"You will all fall into hell with me here today."

Spreading his arms wide, he declared his intentions.

The man cackled like a madman, relishing every moment, as he began a countdown.

Panic spread through the passengers.

But the countdown did not stop.

Finally, the moment arrived.

A deafening explosion roared.

And what had been people turned into chunks of flesh.

Countless lives snuffed out in an instant. The train overturned in a catastrophic explosion.

...Except none of that actually happened.

The terrified faces of the passengers were now painted with confusion. No one had died.

The train continued peacefully on its route to the destination.

Far from being derailed, it ran smoothly and steadily, a proud testament to the Empire's exceptional engineering.

The terrorist remained frozen in place, arms outstretched, mid-laugh in that bizarre pose.

Faced with this peculiar scene, I knew there was only one thing I could do. I stood up and walked toward him.

"...This can't be happening. This just can't be. How could it fail not once, but three times?"

The man muttered to himself, his unsettling grin replaced with frustrated mumbling.

Then his gaze fell on me.

The madness returned to his eyes.

"Was it you...? Were you the one sabotaging the noble plans of the Harbingers of the Apocalypse?"

Grinding his teeth, the terrorist pulled a dagger from his cloak and charged at me.

But I didn't move.

The blade struck directly into my abdomen.

He started laughing, triumphant—only for his expression to twist into bewilderment moments later.

He must have realized something was wrong.

The blade hadn't pierced me.

With a dumbfounded look, he inspected the dagger in his hand.

Not a drop of blood stained it. The blade was bent, as though it were made of rubber rather than steel.

"...What?"

A confused, almost pathetic whimper escaped his lips.

Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he began to sense that the situation was not in his favor.

But it was too late to realize that now.

I drove my fist into his head.

-CLANG!

The sound echoed, absurdly loud, like metal clashing against metal rather than a fist meeting a skull.

Foaming at the mouth, the terrorist collapsed.

And thus ended the career of that amateur terrorist.

****

"I don't even know how to thank you enough," the conductor said with a bow after the crew had dragged the man off in restraints.

As we spoke, the conductor filled me in on the details.

Apparently, those "Harbingers of the Apocalypse" weren't even a proper terrorist organization.

"They've never actually carried out a single attack despite all their threats?"

"Exactly! I just can't wrap my head around those lunatics."

The conductor went on a rant, pouring out his frustrations about this bizarre group.

They were a strange lot, issuing threats of terror without ever following through. Even during interrogations, their explanations were nonsensical lies that only added to the headaches of the authorities. ŘἈƝ𝔬𝐁Ëš

"Like last time, they claimed they planted a bomb, but a 'black wolf' carried it off before it could explode. Do they think we're complete idiots?"

He assured me they'd come up with another ridiculous excuse for this incident as well.

I couldn't hold back a laugh as I responded.

"...That's not a terrorist. That's just someone crying for attention."

"Exactly! And I'm the one left dealing with the aftermath every time."

We chatted for a while longer until the train finally arrived at its destination.

As we said our goodbyes, the conductor made it a point to remember my face, telling me to reach out if I ever needed anything.

"Well, the world is full of idiots, I suppose," I muttered to myself, shaking my head.

The world is vast, and fools abound.

With that thought, I rejoined Lucy, and together we made our way toward the blacksmith's district.

Chapter 88: The Holy Sword, and the Oath (4)

The road from the station to our destination.

Naturally, I ended up walking alongside Lucy.

Of course, given her personality, it was rare for her to start a conversation on her own.

Still, the conversation flowed more smoothly than I expected.

Spending time with Siel, who rarely speaks first, had gotten me used to initiating conversations with quiet people.

While we exchanged casual small talk for quite some time, an interesting topic emerged.

"Why did you join the Imperial Knights?"

It was just a lighthearted question on my part. But for some reason...

The moment she heard it, Lucy's expression darkened. It was the first time she remained silent instead of responding sincerely to my question.

I wondered if I had unintentionally touched a nerve.

Just as I was about to assure her that she didn't have to answer if it was difficult to talk about...

"...It was because there was someone I admired."

Lucy, who had been frowning as if recalling something, finally spoke.

"There was someone who saved me when I was in mortal danger. I wanted to become a knight to help others, just like they helped me."

It should have been a heartwarming story. Yet, for some reason, her face turned a little pale.

However, I couldn't bring myself to ask why.

Because of what she said next.

"...It was a hero. A hero with the same name as you who saved me."

The moment those words left her lips, I too was at a loss for words.

Until now, no one had known about the previous hero.

Miss Rubia, Siel, Lien—no matter who I asked, no answers came. Neither books nor records held any trace of the hero.

Yet, this unexpected lead came from Lucy.

"...Why on earth did I forget something so important?"

Lucy murmured in a bewildered tone.

Afterward, I questioned her about the previous hero multiple times.

Her story was straightforward.

A man with black hair saved her from a burning mansion that was under attack.

And when she saw his brilliantly shining sword, her younger self instantly realized that the man before her was the legendary hero from the rumors.

She couldn't recall what happened afterward or why everyone had forgotten about the hero, but...

This alone was a significant discovery.

At least now, I could confirm the existence of a previous hero.

The protagonist of the previous generation undoubtedly existed.

It seemed highly likely they were based on the character I had created.

After all, Ian was a nickname I frequently used. Black hair was the default setting when I didn't bother customizing the character.

The previous game didn't mention Lucy or the Valierre family, so the story seemed to have diverged a bit.

But at least the hero's existence was now certain.

'In other words, someone deliberately erased the hero from this world.'

How had the original story been twisted?

Who was responsible for this anomaly?

Why were people's memories erased?

There wasn't enough evidence yet to answer these questions.

However, the most likely suspect was obvious.

'What the hell did the Empire do?'

When a troublesome situation arises, blaming the Empire is usually a safe bet.

This time, too, it had to be their doing.

My face naturally contorted into a scowl.

Even Lucy, who had personally witnessed the hero and carried a vivid memory of him, had only just regained her recollection.

This meant someone had cast a mental manipulation spell strong enough to affect someone as powerful as Lucy.

Considering that such mental manipulation could only be performed by high-level magic users like archmages...

The sheer scale of what was happening made it impossible to guess the extent of the monstrosity behind it.

The situation was overwhelmingly bleak.

My head spun just thinking about it.

But I brushed off my worries with a single deep breath.

'In the end, what I need to do hasn't changed.'

The more hidden truths were uncovered, the clearer it became that the opponents I would face in the future would be formidable.

But sitting still and taking it wasn't an option. I had to do everything within my power.

All I could do was keep moving, gathering strength and preparing for the eventual apocalypse.

And that, as always, was what I did.

As I walked, lost in thought, a peculiar noise began to echo in my ears.

The sound of hammers striking.

The clanging of metal against metal created a resounding racket.

The lively atmosphere and unique scenery caught my attention.

The blacksmith's district.

Our destination unfolded before us.

****

In front of us was a row of blacksmith shops.

Lucy and I walked through them side by side.

Though the shock from earlier still lingered, walking down this street was undoubtedly a unique experience.

It was a space I frequently visited in the previous game to gather equipment.

'Some things have changed, and some haven't.'

Over the past decade or so, some shops seemed to have closed down, while others continued to operate, albeit with new faces running them.

But there was no use dwelling on the past forever.

Hoping to lift my mood, I decided to check out the state of one of my favorite blacksmith shops from the previous game.

However, instead of noticing the shops, my eyes were drawn to Lucy.

For some reason, she was staring intently at one particular smithy.

"Did something catch your eye?"

Before Lucy could answer, a dwarf approached us.

"You can't know just by looking, can you?"

The dwarf beckoned us over, encouraging us to take a closer look if we were interested.

It was an exceptionally skilled sales pitch.

After a moment of hesitation, I decided to play along.

'Well, I did need something like this.'

With the Empire and the final boss increasingly appearing to be linked to the Black Fangs mercenary group I was sheltering, investing in weapons and armor for them didn't seem like a bad idea.

It wouldn't hurt to gift my people some high-quality gear.

With that thought, I followed the dwarf into his smithy.

Displayed were swords and armor, each piece dazzling and exuding an air of quality.

The prices were steep, of course. Dwarven-made equipment tended to be that way.

I picked up a sword to inspect it.

"Can I try swinging this?"

I asked, just in case.

"Of course! How else would you know if it suits you without trying it out?"

The dwarf declared confidently.

He seemed awfully assured of his craftsmanship.

I carefully swung the sword, taking great care to avoid any accidents like those that had occurred at the training grounds.

And then... my expression filled with doubt.

'What's wrong with this?'

I wasn't exactly an expert on swords, but even I could tell that something was off about this one.

The balance was completely off.

There was no satisfying sense of sharpness when wielding it.

And that wasn't the only odd thing.

The label claimed it was made of the rare orichalcum metal.

Yet it was absurdly heavy.

According to the game's lore, orichalcum was supposed to be lighter and stronger than other metals.

This sword, however, defied all those expectations.

I immediately returned the sword, feeling a strong sense of unease.

Something about it felt... wrong.

As I was just about to leave the smithy, however, the dwarf grabbed my arm.

"What is the meaning of this? How could you treat such a precious sword like this?"

He pointed to a scratch that hadn't been there when I handed the sword back. A scratch that seemed to have magically appeared just moments ago.

Though his tone was furious, the subtle smirk on his lips betrayed his true intentions.

The situation was obvious.

'I had a feeling something was off.'

From the beginning, this was likely his plan all along—to lure us into this trap.

As I frowned and prepared to argue with the dwarf about his blatant deceit...

"Do not worry, my lord. I understand your intentions. Leave this matter to me."

Lucy stepped forward, positioning herself between me and the dwarf.

Her words were calm but decisive.

She was telling me she understood what I wanted and would handle the situation herself.

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

'This could be a good chance to learn more about Lucy.'

Despite the Geass, her unpredictable behavior up until now made her an uneasy subordinate. I was curious to see how she would outmaneuver this con artist.

The moment I nodded, Lucy walked briskly into the smithy.

She declared boldly:

"It was you who said we could test the sword, was it not?"

A logical point. It was, after all, the dwarf himself who had allowed us to try out the sword.

I couldn't help but be slightly impressed.

Lucy was a warrior, not a strategist, so I hadn't expected such a sharp rebuttal.

Curious to see how she would follow up, I watched her closely.

And then, Lucy said:

"In that case, I'll try swinging it myself."

Her words were... startlingly unexpected.

Lucy grabbed a random sword, exhaled deeply, and assumed a flawless sword-drawing stance.

...It was then that I realized what was about to happen.

But by the time I understood, it was already too late to stop her.

"Third Form: 『Whirlwind Dance』."

Her sword danced through the air, tracing mesmerizing arcs.

Everything in the smithy—every piece of merchandise, the forge, all the tools, the walls, the pillars—was sliced apart.

-BOOOOOM!

A massive explosion echoed as the entire smithy collapsed in an instant.

The dwarf, I, and everyone else present were left utterly speechless.

Without uttering a single word, Lucy had silenced any argument before it could even begin.

It was, in its way, a perfect form of "persuasion."

...Though admittedly, it was a bit too physical.

Chapter 89: The Holy Sword, and the Oath (5)

Swinging the sword just a few times. And suddenly, the blacksmith shop was in shambles.

Everyone's eyes were filled with shock as they watched the building collapse in an instant.

I wasn't any different.

'...No, you said you understood my intentions.'

What on earth did you think I meant to cause such a disaster? All I wanted was to keep that swindler dwarf at a reasonable distance, nothing more.

I turned to look at the conman again.

The dwarf was staring blankly at what used to be his blacksmith shop.

"What... What in the world are you doing?!"

He shouted, his voice trembling as if on the verge of tears.

But Lucy remained as composed as ever and replied calmly,

"You said I could test the sword, so I tested it."

A nonsensical excuse that made me question her sanity.

Perhaps he was in too much shock from seeing his shop reduced to a pile of rubble in mere seconds.

"I'll report this to the guards right away! You've made a serious mistake this time!"

The dwarf yelled, his face red with fury.

Sure, the dwarf was a skilled craftsman.

If he reported us, the guards would indeed rush over.

Though I doubted anyone, even a dozen guards, could deal with Lucy—or even just me, for that matter. Still, getting officially wanted by the empire wouldn't do us any favors.

"Is that so? I wouldn't know about that."

Lucy walked toward the dwarf as she spoke, her tone casual.

At that moment, I thought it would be best to leave before things got messier. I was just about to suggest retreating when—

"We aren't fools. Did you think we'd wander around without even a single concealment spell in place?"

Lucy lied without a hint of hesitation, her expression unchanging.

Her words left me speechless.

A masterful bluff.

With a simple trick, Lucy preemptively shut down any possibility of him calling the guards.

"And besides, even if the guards come, it would take them quite a while to get here..."

As she said that, Lucy gripped her sword again.

In a flash—

An instant so brief it was almost imperceptible, the blade struck.

It was such a swift move that it felt like the sword hadn't even left its sheath.

The next thing anyone knew, the dwarf's beard—his defining feature—was sliced clean off.

"I assure you, the guards won't be able to guarantee your safety," she declared.

The dwarf's face turned pale.

"So, from where I stand, it seems the mistake wasn't mine, but yours."

Lucy spoke with conviction, looking down at the scammer now slumped helplessly on the ground.

...It was certainly effective.

At the very least, the dwarf wouldn't bother me anymore.

"Lucy, please refrain from using such violent measures when possible."

Feeling that her competence was almost terrifyingly excessive, I called out her name and cautioned her not to go overboard.

"Understood, my lord. Do not worry. I am fully aware of your purpose for being here."

Lucy assured me with unwavering confidence and then—her eyes gleaming—acted once more.

A small dagger lay discarded on the ground.

She swiftly picked it up and hurled it.

"Eek!"

The sound that escaped the now beardless dwarf's lips was reminiscent of a terrified five-year-old girl.

To be fair, the situation justified such a reaction.

He must've noticed that something was wrong and tried to slip away when, suddenly, a dagger grazed the side of his head.

"I do not recall giving you permission to leave. Cooperate, so I won't have to resort to further violence."

The other blacksmiths who had come out to watch the commotion now found themselves caught up in the mess.

Yet, not a single one of them dared to voice a complaint.

Honestly, anyone who still chose to resist after witnessing that would be the real fool.

For a while, an eerie silence enveloped the scene.

The one to break it was—

"H-Here, take this!"

A particularly sly-looking dwarf.

He had been glancing around nervously, and now, he handed me a heavy sack.

Inside was... gleaming gold bars that practically screamed, "Hi! I'm solid gold!"

"Please understand. We've been so focused on hammering metal that we've lost touch with how the world works. We didn't realize a new organization had taken over..." 𝐑АƝȎＢËś

Hearing those words made my head spin.

This... This was extortion money.

The kind gangsters collect.

They clearly thought we were some kind of major crime syndicate.

As if to confirm my suspicions, the other dwarves hesitantly started digging into their pockets.

One by one, they shuffled toward me, each holding some form of payment.

"...There's no need. We're not here for this kind of thing."

Sure, it wasn't a small amount of money, but I wasn't so desperate for cash that I needed to resort to this sort of behavior. So I declined firmly.

But they wouldn't take no for an answer.

Begging me to accept it and insisting they would rely on me in the future, the dwarves kept stuffing things into my pockets.

I glanced at Lucy, silently pleading for her to do something about this situation...

"Stop this at once. Are you insulting my lord? He did not come here for such petty purposes. Do not tarnish the noble intentions of my lord."

And immediately, I regretted it.

It was clear I'd chosen the wrong person to rely on.

"Noble intentions?"

I was just here to look for the holy sword and maybe do a little shopping—what's all this talk about nobility?

What could she possibly be thinking? I looked at her with a mix of concern and unease.

"Do not worry, my lord. I fully understand why you've come to this infamous blacksmiths' district," she said confidently.

And then, those words.

'Infamous' blacksmiths' district.

The phrasing somehow didn't sit right with me.

A strange intuition gnawed at me—the feeling that I was missing something crucial.

Quickly, I enhanced my sight and hearing with magic.

Not focusing on this mess of a scene, but instead looking further, to the parts of the district where people were still unaware of the chaos unfolding here.

I observed the ordinary sights of the blacksmiths' district.

And then...

My face twisted in utter shock.

"W-Why are you doing this?! I was just asking about the price!"

"Do I look like someone who answers questions for curious shoppers? You're testing my patience here. Now, come with me for a second."

Over there.

"W-Wait! I'll just take a look around some other shops!"

"Other shops, my foot! They're all the same! Are you doubting my word?!"

And over there too.

"What nonsense is this? I just touched it for a second, and now you're telling me to pay?!"

"Ha... Customer, do you want to get smacked?"

Everywhere I looked, bizarre scenes unfolded.

It was utter chaos—strange, yet somehow disturbingly familiar.

In other words...

"Why does this feel like Yongsan Market?"

The blacksmiths' district had, over the past decade, somehow turned into a replica of Yongsan Electronics Market.

A headache crept up on me naturally.

Dwarves were supposed to have a certain gravitas to them.

They were known as a proud, craftsman-like race—ones who wouldn't take on a commission unless they acknowledged the requester, no matter the price.

And yet... what was this?

In the previous series, the dwarves had been portrayed so differently that I couldn't possibly accept this change.

No matter how much I rubbed my eyes, the scenery remained the same.

'...Did they all succumb to the allure of money and collectively fall into corruption?'

Having lived in a closed society until they started interacting with the outside world about a decade ago, it seemed they had been deeply influenced—far too deeply—by modern society.

The romantic image of the blacksmiths' district had devolved into what was essentially the fantasy equivalent of Yongsan Electronics Market.

As I stood there, too stunned to conceal my shock at this bizarre transformation, Lucy continued speaking.

"You all look so aggrieved. I can see it on your faces—you think you've done nothing wrong and just had the bad luck of being caught."

She didn't stop there. Lucy declared that she would show them the sins they had committed.

She grabbed a shield from a nearby forge.

And... dropped it to the ground.

Not even a hard drop—yet it dented slightly upon impact.

Frankly, its durability was so poor that it could barely be called a shield.

"In battle, even the smallest things can determine life and death. That's why people spend a fortune to ensure they have quality equipment," Lucy said sharply, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the dwarves.

"But you've turned that trust into a joke."

Skimping on material costs by using cheap resources. Selling swords with corrosion curses so you could rake in repair fees.

Prioritizing your own pockets over the lives of others.

"Killing someone with your own hands isn't the only kind of murder. You've taken countless lives out of greed," Lucy said, her voice tinged with unexpected sadness.

Her gaze softened, but only for a moment.

Then she resumed, her tone cold and resolute.

"So, under normal circumstances, all of you should die here and now."

She stated it as a simple fact.

She would never again let innocent lives be lost because of her own inaction. If they continued this path of indirect murder, she would have no choice.

Lucy's declaration was calm yet terrifying.

And yet, no one made a move to flee.

They knew. Resisting was futile. They recognized the overwhelming strength standing before them.

The silence grew heavier, steeped in despair.

Then Lucy spoke again, breaking the dreadful quiet.

"But my lord is merciful. He has told me that criminals must be dealt with not through violence, but by other means."

...To be fair, I had said something like that.

But I hadn't meant it quite like this.

"So, make your choice."

Without giving me a chance to clarify, Lucy pulled out a contract from her sleeve.

A slave contract.

The kind notorious for completely disregarding human—or in this case, dwarf—rights. A tool often used for the most exploitative and evil agreements.

"Will you die here by my hand, or will you graciously accept the opportunity for redemption that my merciful lord offers?"

All eyes turned to me.

The gaze of someone looking at a deranged villainous mastermind who had orchestrated this entire scheme.

......At this point, even if I tried to claim that I hadn't ordered this, no one would believe me.