WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ Got a Gallery in the Wild ◈
Chapter 213: Spring of El Dorado (1)
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Stay calm.
Asella patted her chest after peering into the abyss beneath her feet.
She wanted to draw her holy sword and cut down those vile people right this instant.
But she couldn't. If she acted on her emotions, as Reina had warned, she could ruin everything.
Not only would she fail to rescue Hans, the fruit shop owner, but she would only be doing the Papal Palace a favor.
‘Because I've been branded a traitor.’
In the Holy Kingdom, the word traitor carried enormous weight.
The people around Asella didn't believe that nonsense, but ordinary citizens were different.
The current Hero would destroy El Dorado. It was a prophecy delivered directly by the goddess herself.
‘For now, all I can do is record everything.’
She could think about posting it to the Gallery later. Recording came first.
Asella moved while barely holding down the rage and betrayal filling her heart.
It hurt to watch Hans be “interrogated” with her own eyes, but there was no other choice.
She needed solid proof if she wanted to leave the Papal Palace no room to escape.
“Is it really so hard to admit it? You've been cursed, and the Undying King has been giving you orders in your dreams. Just say that.”
“I... I can't do that. Why should I?”
“This is frustrating. Don't ask why. Ask how.”
Maybe they had never expected anyone to infiltrate the place.
Security was tight around the entrance, but lax everywhere else.
Asella quietly approached the window and hung from it.
It was quite high up, but her exceptional physical ability made it easy.
“If you admit it obediently, it'll be good for both you and us.”
“Goddess Aris... will not forgive you.”
“But we can forgive you. Simple, isn't it?”
“You dare speak the name of Goddess Aris...!”
“The Papal Palace's will is Aris's will.”
Hans, who was being interrogated, looked terrible.
A blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes in case he tried using the Gallery, and both arms were restrained.
He had clearly endured brutal torture over the past day. Wounds covered his body.
A bucket full of water stood beside him. Imagining what they had used it for hurt even more.
‘Uncle Hans...’
Asella's eyes hardened. Watching their atrocities was agony.
Why didn't Goddess Aris strike them down?
Why did Uncle Hans, who had always been kind, have to suffer like that?
Why was the Papal Palace so desperate to cling to power that it would become the Demon King?
“Tch. This won't do. Do it again.”
“I will never...!”
As another “interrogation” began, Asella nearly turned away without realizing it.
But she had to witness every part of this. Even if dirt got in her eyes, she could never close them.
“Ghhh...”
“Oh. He passed out again.”
Hans hung limply after the brutal interrogation. He had fainted from exhaustion.
The Inquisitor clicked their tongue at Hans, who lay limp as a fish, then jerked their head.
The holy knights standing at attention behind them stepped forward and began dragging Hans away.
Creak-
The interrogation room door opened, and the holy knights took Hans somewhere.
Asella was about to follow them when she heard something inside the interrogation room that she couldn't ignore.
“What if he really dies?”
It was a worried question from one of the interrogators.
Was he concerned about Hans, or the consequences that would follow?
Asella instinctively knew it was the latter and listened in.
“What do you mean, what if? It doesn't matter to us. We'll just announce that he's truly one of the Undying King's lackeys.”
“Will the citizens believe that?”
“We can say a few holy knights were seriously injured while subduing him. They should be prepared to put a few claw marks on their faces, though.”
The conversation went beyond shameless. It was disgusting. Asella felt faint.
They didn't care about a human life. Could they really be clergymen?
“What about the bereaved family?”
“You bastard, don't you know what undead are like? Those bastards aren't complete until they're dead. We'll say we had no choice but to cremate him to prevent the curse.”
“...”
“El Dorado's citizens blindly worship Aris. Invoke Aris's name, and they'll think anything is justified. We'll probably get busy after this too.”
“We will?”
“Yes. We may have to arrest a few more people and say they've been cursed by the Undying King. That's how we'll make the citizens believe it. Got a cigarette?”
They didn't just want to put a leash on people. They wanted the power of life and death itself.
They wouldn't even treat people as people. Asella burned with fury at their way of thinking.
‘How can they...!’
She wanted to draw her holy sword and take their heads right now.
But she couldn't. With superhuman patience, Asella controlled the fire in her heart.
She had secured all the evidence and testimony she needed. All that remained was to expose them.
She decided to leave that revolting place at once.
‘Uncle Hans. Please hold on just a little longer. Aris, please grant Uncle Hans the strength to endure this ordeal.’
Hans was an ordinary citizen. The time he could withstand torture was painfully short.
Even if he endured, there was a high chance he would be left with scars that could never be erased.
That was why she prayed so desperately. It was the only thing she could do.
‘But... will posting this to the Gallery be enough?’
The thought suddenly came to her.
Would everything be over if she posted it to the Gallery?
El Dorado was rotten. Just as Ludwig had cut away the rot, El Dorado had to be cut apart too.
The problem was that the rot was in its head. Cut off the head, and any living thing dies.
Replacing its head would mean becoming something entirely different.
‘Maybe that's better.’
If it could save millions of citizens, she would gladly cut off its head.
It was then that Asella steeled herself.
Flash!
“?!”
Her holy sword suddenly began to shine. She couldn't help but jump in surprise.
She hadn't even left the interrogation room yet. Even this small light could draw attention.
She urgently covered it with her robe, but the holy sword's light shone through it.
‘I-I need to leave, quickly...!’
Clack!
“Hmm?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected situation, she made a grave mistake.
The rattling sound made the holy knight below, who had been acting as an interrogator, look up.
The holy sword was already glowing, and now there was noise too. The odds of avoiding detection were close to zero.
“...”
“...”
Asella and the interrogator's eyes met. Heavy silence fell.
It was the interrogator who had been speaking with his superior inside earlier.
Asella faced him and was about to slowly reach for her holy sword.
“Hey! Why are you taking so long?”
“Ah. I'm coming.”
Unexpectedly, the interrogator pretended not to see Asella and hurried over at his superior's call.
-What the hell took you so long?
-There was just a rat.
-A rat? This place is old, so I suppose that makes sense. Did you take care of it?
-Yes.
The conversation reached her ears. It seemed the interrogator had no intention of exposing her.
Relief washed over her. Asella let out a breath, then gave a faint smile.
‘There is still... a conscience left.’
The last bit of conscience blooming in a place as filthy and disgusting as a trash can.
Maybe people like that were why the world was still worth living in. That was why she couldn't give up.
After confirming that the holy sword had calmed down, Asella hurried out.
Fortunately, nothing dangerous happened on the way.
‘Next...’
It was time to post the evidence of Uncle Hans's interrogation and imprisonment to the Gallery.
But as she had thought earlier, posting it would not end everything. She needed a next step.
Asella stood stiffly against one side of a building, thinking.
How could she cleanly remove the Papal Palace, rotten to the core?
The Hero existed for the citizens, not for the Pope.
‘It would be best to cut off the Papal Palace's limbs, but... there isn't enough time.’
The Papal Palace loved filthy, underhanded politics. It would surely try to throw its subordinates under the bus.
There was also a high chance it had noticed she was in El Dorado's capital.
The Papal Palace would certainly demand that she show herself openly.
‘That would be a problem. They'll use the fact that I'm a traitor to the very end.’
For the sake of the citizens, she could willingly reveal the identity behind her registered Gallery account.
Using the Gallery would not shake the citizens. They would understand.
But the Papal Palace would surely bring up Hero Asella, not Head Mod Asella.
A figure even the citizens shunned after being branded a traitor.
It would throw cold water on everything. For now, she needed to take a step back and watch.
‘There must be no escape route. But...’
Could that really be easy?
They would start by sacrificing subordinates and drag things out with all kinds of excuses.
In the worst case, the Pope could personally apologize, and that would be the end of it.
Someone might wonder why the Pope bowing his head would be the worst outcome.
‘The Papal Palace must fall.’
It had already rotted beyond recovery.
The rot had to be cut out.
Even if that meant it was reborn under another name.
Asella considered how she could bring down the Papal Palace, then looked up.
‘This is the only way.’
And that afternoon.
The worst exposé in El Dorado's history broke on the Gallery.
* * *
[Post title] Louis II, Pope of El Dorado.
[Post] He had begun as an ordinary priest and risen all the way to the position of Pope.
[Post] Becoming Pope normally required exceptional political skill and a fair amount of luck. He had both.
[Post] The first was the manpower shortage that came after every superior above him was swept away during the Undying King incident.
[Post] The second was his outstanding political skill. When luck gave him an opportunity, he took full advantage of it and climbed to the position of Pope in no time.
[Post] But power changed people. He had always been ambitious, and his desire for power easily corrupted him.
[Post] He mercilessly purged anyone who coveted his authority and went further, eliminating anyone who might become a problem.
[Post] Hero Asella and Ludwig were prime examples. The prophecy itself had been true.
[Post] The prophecy had frightened Asella into fleeing and tarnished Ludwig's honor.
It didn't matter that the exposé had come from an unexpected place, the Forest of Four Seasons.
‘They can't do anything more from there anyway.’
Ludwig surviving to the end was an unpredictable variable. But that was all.
As long as he was stuck in the Forest of Four Seasons, he could not interfere with El Dorado.
For now, Louis II only needed to soothe the angry citizens, then suppress them harshly.
That was what he thought.
“W-What did you say?!”
“An exposé was posted on the Gallery! The citizens are currently rising up!”
At least, until an update on Hans was posted to the Gallery.
-Waaaaah!
-Give us back Uncle Hans!
-The Pope must step down! The Pope must step down!
-The Demon King must step down!
The angry cries of the citizens reached Louis II's ears.
Only one day had passed since Hans was taken into custody, yet the atrocities committed by the Papal Palace had been exposed.
Louis II was greatly flustered, but quickly recovered his composure.
‘It's still fine. It's not as if I never anticipated something like this.’
It did not matter whether there had been an outside intrusion or an internal leak.
He only needed to claim he had known nothing about it and punish the Inquisitors first.
Then he could soothe public opinion by mentioning the Gallery's unreliability and offer an apology.
He could also say that he would reform the Papal Palace and ensure such a thing never happened again.
‘If they exposed us, they must still be in El Dorado. I can pin everything on that bastard.’
It would be easy if he claimed it was the Undying King's scheme to divide El Dorado.
Louis II ran through several possibilities and questioned the priest who had hurriedly delivered the report.
“So who posted this exposé? An Anonymous User? Or someone with a name?”
“W-Well... it was a registered user, no, someone with a name, but...”
The clergyman hesitated, then cautiously said,
“W-Wild Grylls.”
“What?”
“Wild Grylls. That registered user said to be in the Forest of Four Seasons.”
“...”
Louis II's mind stopped for a moment upon hearing that.
An Anonymous User or another registered user would have been one thing, but Grylls's name caught him completely off guard.
Then his mind began working again, and he analyzed the situation.
‘The one in the Forest of Four Seasons could not have come here. He must have received a tip from someone.’
That much was predictable. But what came next?
Could he pressure Grylls into revealing the informant? No.
The post had already been uploaded to the Gallery, and Grylls was in the Forest of Four Seasons.
Could he call all of Grylls's posts lies and propaganda? No.
He could try, but if he made a mistake, he could run into contradictions and set public opinion aflame even further.
If he called it a lie, people would ask why he could not produce Hans.
Even if it was true, everything would still lead back to the Forest of Four Seasons.
Could he appeal to the people to trust the Papal Palace over Grylls? No.
Because of Ludwig. Ludwig was plainly still alive, so this response would come back at him.
[Then you go into the Forest of Four Seasons too.]
[Are you being treated unfairly? Then clear your name in the Forest of Four Seasons.]
[Ludwig did it, so why can't you?]
Who in their right mind would enter the Forest of Four Seasons? It was throwing away one's life.
Of course, there were plenty of escape routes. More so because it was Grylls.
The problem was that every way out led to the Forest of Four Seasons.
Manipulation and fabrication were Louis II's specialties. They could work in any situation, but before the Forest of Four Seasons, they were meaningless.
If he truly felt wronged, he could say he would go to the Forest of Four Seasons, but he did not have the courage.
‘Th... this...’
Louis II realized it.
‘Again, again...! That bastard again...!’
One variable had ruined everything.
* * *
“Ugh. That's horrible.”
Meanwhile, Wild Grylls had posted the exposé to the Gallery.
“If that isn't the Forest of Four Seasons, what is?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Would you like another sweet potato?”
“Mm.”
He was as carefree as ever.
Footnotes:
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