Whispers of a Scheming Demon - Chapter 20

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈

Chapter 20: Domination (2)

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Recently, the lord's castle had been in complete disarray.

Too many abrupt changes had taken place.

Betra, who had abused the Tribute Maidens, had disappeared. The Baron seemed frightened of something and spent all his time hiding in his room.

The treasurer had also vanished at some point.

Even the knight had begun acting strangely.

Once talkative, he had not uttered a word lately. He merely wandered the castle, stiff as a wax figure.

He looked just like a puppet soldier.

As those who held power shrank back, the servants could finally breathe freely.

Even when they gathered in the kitchen to gossip, no furious reprimand came down on them.

The maids each had something to say to the young Tribute Maiden.

“Rowen, we won't be seeing you for much longer. It's a little sad.”

“Sad? It's something to celebrate. They're sending her back home.”

“That's right. Unlike us, Rowen was dragged here. You must miss your parents terribly, right?”

Rowen smiled brightly.

“Yes. When I return, I'll learn how to weave and help Mother. I want to get married someday too.”

“Good. Live your life doing everything you want. Just don't forget us.”

“Of course not. You sisters have all been so kind to me. I'll write often.”

“One more thing. Make sure you thank Young Master Johan.”

Without Johan, the Tribute Maidens would have withered away under abuse. Broken beyond repair, they would have spent their blooming years rotting away in brothels.

Now, their futures had changed. To them, Johan was practically a savior.

Rowen spoke with a downcast expression.

“Whenever I go looking for him, he's always busy, so I haven't had the chance. But I've been praying regularly.”

She closed her eyes and clasped her hands.

“Saint Marziel. Please bless Young Master Johan.”

The moment she finished her prayer, a calm voice spoke.

“You don't need to pray for me.”

Everyone gathered in the kitchen lowered their heads.

Rowen broke into a wide smile.

“Young Master!”

“What is your name?”

“My name is Rowen.”

“Rowen. I appreciate the thought, but I'll decline your prayers. The Great Saint hates me.”

“What? Why...?”

“As you know, I'm mixed-blood. Your prayer might turn into a curse.”

On the surface, Johan was the illegitimate child of a noble and a commoner. In truth, he was half human, half demon.

If prayers for him became imbued with Holy Power, they could take root as a Holy Chant fatal to demons.

“N-No! The Great Saint dislikes mixed-blood people, but only those born to demons and humans. There's no reason for the Great Saint to hate you, Young Master.”

Johan shrugged.

“What if I were half demon, half human?”

Everyone was startled.

“Y-Young Master!”

“What if someone hears you?”

Johan gave a quiet laugh.

“That joke went too far. Pray for yourself rather than others. That's all I wanted to say.”

Rowen stepped closer.

“I will. But I will never forget your kindness either, Young Master. Thank you so much.”

Johan stroked her hair.

“Go home and live happily.”

Rowen smiled shyly and bowed her head.

“I should get going now. I need to serve tea to the Baron.”

“I'll go in your place.”

“What? But...”

“Don't worry about it. I was planning to see Father anyway.”

With that, Johan snapped his fingers.

The Baron's knight stepped out of the darkness.

The maids backed away in alarm.

“Rail, carry it and follow me.”

Holding the teacup, Rail followed Johan.

No one could hide their confusion.

The knight's normally sharp gaze was as hollow as a puffed rice cake.

* * *

Johan headed straight for the Baron's room.

“I'll come in for a moment.”

As he reached for the door, a loud crash came from inside. It sounded as though glass bottles and flowerpots were breaking.

Frowning, Johan threw open the door.

The Baron sat awkwardly at the central table.

“O-Oh, you're here?”

The Baron welcomed Johan with an unnatural smile. Broken glass was scattered carelessly around him.

“You must have been startled by my voice.”

The Baron wiped up spilled liquor and bowed repeatedly.

“You came without notice, haha.”

“A son paying his father a visit is only natural. There is no need to stand on ceremony.”

“Ah, of course. You are absolutely right. Please visit whenever you wish.”

Johan nodded.

“I will. However, I came here on another matter today.”

Tension appeared on the Baron's face.

“Is there something making your stay uncomfortable...?”

“There were a few things, but I handled them myself. This is another matter.”

Relieved, the Baron said,

“Please, tell me.”

“It concerns my uncle. Did you send word to him?”

A few days earlier, Johan had requested that the Baron call his uncle to the castle.

The Baron had clearly been reluctant at the time. Though he had agreed verbally, he had failed to hide his displeasure.

There was a chance he had ignored Johan's order.

If so, he would need to be punished.

The Baron answered with an uncomfortable expression.

“Of course. I received a reply as well.”

Johan had expected him to resist at least once, but the Baron had been unexpectedly obedient.

“What did he say?”

“He says he will visit with the Pilgrimage Party. He must be planning to cower behind the Great Saint Church's skirts.”

Early in the original work, there had been an episode where the Great Saint Church's Pilgrimage Party passed through Myatro territory.

The Pilgrimage Party was traveling across the continent to recover pieces of the Great Saint's corpse, and its route overlapped with Myatro's directly governed territory.

It seemed Kryll intended to time his visit to the territory with theirs.

‘He's as thorough as he was in the original work.’

Anyone traveling with the Great Saint Church was invincible. Even the king could not lay a hand on those who came with them.

By noble custom, one could not harm a guest invited into their home. But with Kryll arriving alongside the Great Saint Church, that convention had become an unwritten law, going beyond even ordinary social decency.

Assassination was absolutely impossible.

The Baron glanced cautiously at Johan.

“...May I say something?”

Johan nodded.

“To avoid ending up in situations like this, I believe you should consult me when making plans in the future. The matter of the Tribute Maidens, dismissing the treasurer, all of it without saying a word to me...”

Johan stopped him with a gesture.

“It seems you need to be taught a lesson after all.”

Then he looked toward the door.

“Rail, come in.”

The blond knight entered the room.

“The Baron doesn't know his place. You should teach him.”

The knight's unfocused eyes turned toward the Baron.

There was no emotion in those empty pupils. Like a machine without a self, Rail creaked toward the Baron.

“R-Rail...?”

The Baron stared at his knight, unable to believe it.

But Rail was no longer his sword. He was nothing more than a scarecrow whose soul had been stolen by a demon.

Crack!

A fist like stone struck the Baron's plump face.

“Urgh!”

Blood gushed from his nose like a fountain. The Baron fell backward.

The violence did not end there.

Rail began brutally stomping on the fallen Baron.

Desperate screams filled the room.

By the time the white carpet had been dyed crimson, the kicking stopped.

Johan approached the groaning Baron.

“...S-Spare me.”

The Baron's body had been crushed in places like spoiled tofu.

Johan crouched and stared at him.

“Gryan, listen carefully. I do not consult you. I do not need your advice. You are nothing but a puppet. Remember that the only reason I have not taken your soul is because of a whim. Cast aside your thoughts and free will. Live like a puppet. Do you understand?”

Had it not been for Raguel, the Baron would have shared Rail's fate. A test subject for Johan's power, Soul Erasure. He had no right to stand as Johan's equal.

The Baron convulsed and nodded.

“I-I understand. Please spare me. I won't overstep again!”

Johan smiled in satisfaction.

“I'll believe you this once.”

Then he offered a gentle smile.

“By the way, Father. Why are you speaking so formally? From now on, speak comfortably to me during the day. A father and son cannot remain awkward forever, can they?”

The Baron looked at Johan with a horrified expression.

“Answer me.”

The Baron lowered his head.

“...I will.”

* * *

Time passed like an arrow. In late autumn, when the foliage reached its peak, the Pilgrimage Party arrived in Myatro's directly governed territory.

It was a Holy Army composed of priests, holy knights, holy soldiers, and monks. The white-clad force wound through the crimson leaves in an endless line.

Its vanguard had just passed through the castle gate.

Clergy in vestments began to fill the lord's castle's vast courtyard.

“Oh, you must be exhausted after such a long journey. This place is humble, but welcome. It is an honor to provide even a small aid to your sacred journey.”

A white-haired priest spoke to the fawning Baron.

“Thank you for your hospitality. May the Great Saint's blessing rest upon House Myatro.”

As the priest finished speaking, the priests and holy knights under the archbishop's command made the Sign of the Five-Pointed Star.

The Myatro faction, including the Baron and Johan, responded with the same holy sign.

“Hospitality is too generous a word. It is our duty to assist your pilgrimage.”

The white-haired priest smiled kindly and stepped forward.

“You are devoted, as expected of a prestigious house that watches Narak. I am Archbishop Hiles of the Holy See and the leader of this Pilgrimage Party. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Johan looked Hiles over.

‘Archbishop Hiles.’

Hiles was not important enough to influence the story.

There was someone else Johan needed to watch more closely.

A single red presence among the sea of white. The girl with hair darker than the autumn leaves was the highest-priority target in the procession.

At least, she was to Johan.

‘Shaperia.’

She was the Great Saint's sword and humanity's shield.

Until that red hair became stained with demons' black blood, Shaperia would not stop passing judgment.

To demons, she would be terror itself.

For now, she was only a novice.

He would have to crush her before she could take root.