Whispers of a Scheming Demon - Chapter 49

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈

Chapter 49: Apostle Garnish

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Guided by Gaf, the knights Kembell and Myra entered the reception room.

“I'll have some tea brought, so wait comfortably.”

Gaf tossed out the curt remark before leaving the room.

Only Kembell and Myra remained in the reception room.

Myra dropped into a chair with a thud.

“Can you take that helmet off now? It's stifling just watching you.”

Kembell had not removed his visor even once since arriving at the lord's castle. Even after Johan had rebuked him, he had remained fully armored to the end.

There was a reason for it.

Kembell slowly raised the visor.

“What can I do? This is what I look like.”

The face beneath was hideous. Burn scars covered half of it.

Most would have frowned at the horrific sight, but Myra did not show the slightest reaction.

“The scar is a symbol of your loyalty. Have a little more pride in it.”

Kembell grumbled.

“I got it while attacking a prince of the realm in the dead of night. What is there to be proud of?”

Before Kembell could even finish, Myra shouted.

“Why are you so careless? What if someone hears you?”

“There is no one here but us.”

“You fool. Keep talking carelessly, and someday you'll make a mistake. Don't regret it when that happens. Watch your mouth at all times. Understand?”

At Myra's scolding, Kembell muttered under his breath.

“That nagging again... I'm not some three-year-old brat.”

“You brat!”

“Fine. I understand, so stop it.”

Myra glared at Kembell, then let out a long sigh.

His expression softened as he spoke in a very low voice.

“You only fulfilled your duty as a knight. Thanks to you, the Third Prince fell, and His Highness the Seventh Prince gained an opportunity. Take more pride in yourself.”

The Third Prince was Gawain, while the Seventh Prince was Count Staviana's grandson through his daughter.

A shadow fell across Kembell's face.

“What happened that day is still vivid in my mind. His Highness's eyes as he went berserk, his wailing, even the resentment he directed at me. Sometimes, he appears in my dreams and squeezes my heart.”

Four years ago, Kembell and several other warriors had disguised themselves as assassins and attacked the Third Prince's palace. It had been Count Staviana's order. They were to drive the Third Prince, Gawain, into a rampage.

The operation had ultimately succeeded. Branded as one who had betrayed his own family, Gawain was expelled from the palace. He had originally been the prince chosen to become Crown Prince.

Myra lightly placed a hand on Kembell's shoulder.

“Every undertaking demands sacrifices. One day, His Highness will achieve greatness and commend your efforts. So stand tall. Take pride in your scar.”

Kembell buried his face in both hands.

“...Whether the Seventh Prince takes the throne or not, I can never speak about this scar. If anyone asks, I'll always have to make excuses. Pride? Ha! This scar will shame me for the rest of my life. In the end, it's the mark of a traitor.”

Kembell had raised a sword against royalty. Even if the Seventh Prince ascended the throne, that crime would not disappear.

His merits would never be recognized for the rest of his life.

He was a knight, yet no different from a spy who lived in the shadows.

There was no honor in it.

Myra shook his head as if Kembell were pathetic.

“Tsk. If you can stand proudly before yourself, you don't need recognition from others. You still have a long way to go.”

“Yes, Brother is always right. Honestly, this narrow-minded fool doesn't like this assignment either. Young Baron? Whatever. I don't understand why we had to come all the way down to this backwater for some little brat.”

They could have simply sent the invitation through a messenger.

There was no reason to dispatch two knights in person.

Myra's expression became serious.

“Until yesterday, I would have agreed with you. But I think differently now. Did the Young Baron look like an ordinary child to you?”

“Well...”

“I saw something else. He was excessively mature and had an atmosphere that was difficult to explain. It isn't easy to leave that kind of impression on someone. Especially when you're a child of barely ten.”

When Myra met Johan's gaze, he felt a strange pressure.

It felt as though he had to show him sincere respect.

It was an unfamiliar experience.

“So you're saying the Count has noticed that the Young Baron is unusual?”

“Most likely. He probably sent us all the way here to confirm that suspicion.”

“But the Count and the Young Baron have never even met. Why would he be wary of some child, especially an illegitimate one?”

“The moment that boy appeared, the board was overturned. Kryll took his own life, and his forces scattered in all directions. Is that all? I heard the people are favorable toward the Young Baron as well. He adjusted the tax rate and dismissed every Tribute Maiden. Those actions are a deadly blow to the Count.”

Count Staviana coveted the Myatro territory. More precisely, the treasure vault, the Forbidden Archive.

Johan's existence could only be an irritation to the Count.

Kembell's eyes turned cold.

“...Are we here to eliminate the Young Baron?”

“You're getting ahead of yourself. We only need to report what we see and learn to the Count. Still, we should make our report more specific.”

“How?”

“Let's investigate. The Young Baron's upbringing, personal relationships, maternal background, and so on. If we find even one unusual detail, the Count will be pleased.”

Kembell slowly nodded.

“Now that I hear you, Brother, I understand why the Count sent us.”

“The Count will expect us to judge matters for ourselves depending on the situation.”

As soon as Myra finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.

A maid entered the room carrying teacups.

Kembell and Myra exchanged looks, then changed the subject.

The maid was stiff with fear.

She had seen Kembell's scars.

* * *

“If anything feels even slightly strange, close your eyes immediately.”

Johan was surrounded by complex formulas.

It was Ilea's mental protection magic, the minimum safeguard against unforeseen circumstances.

“I will, so don't worry too much.”

“Good. Shall we begin?”

Johan put on the monocle.

The world before his eyes changed at once.

Every object in his field of vision was curved, and at the center of that distortion lay a massive crack.

Fear of the unknown should have overwhelmed him, but Johan instead felt calm. His eyes stared into the void as though entranced.

“...This feels strange.”

“Johan, are you all right?”

He slowly reached toward the crack.

“I feel no resistance from it. Your guess was right. The crack is not a Prohibition to me.”

Ilea could not even approach the crack.

Johan was different. It felt as though he could enter that void whenever he wished.

He even felt an instinctive pull toward it.

“That is a relief. Let's stop here for today.”

There was still no guarantee that the inside of the crack was safe.

Now that Ilea had seen the possibility, it would not be too late to act after ensuring greater safety.

Johan agreed with her.

“All rig...”

The moment he tried to remove the monocle, an overwhelming force of attraction seized him.

An irresistible power caught hold of his entire body.

In an instant, his figure disappeared.

Into the pitch-black void.

* * *

Inside, it was both bright and dark.

He stood with his feet on the ground, yet it also felt as though he were hanging upside down with his feet pressed to the ceiling.

His vision stretched out like rubber, then shattered into countless fragments like broken glass.

A gentle melody and a shrill ringing like screams struck his eardrums at the same time.

Each of his five senses moved separately, eating away at his mind.

It was difficult to retain his sanity.

Just as he felt he might truly go mad, a genderless voice slipped into his ear.

“Now, shall we close your eyes? You'll feel a little better.”

The countless noises made it impossible to understand the words clearly.

“My, I suppose I'll have to hammer it directly into your brain.”

Johan's brain began to thud.

『Closeyoureyesyoumustcloseyoureyescomeonitisn'tdifficultifyoujustcloseyoureyesyouwillfeelbettersonowshallweloweryoureyelidsletusclosebotheyescomfortablyandthinkofitassleepingdeeplyitisreallyeasyitisfarsimplerthananythingyouhaveeverdone』

At the same time, Johan's eyelids slid shut.

All the phenomena that had been destroying his mind vanished like snow melting away.

Within pitch-black darkness, Johan regained his composure.

The genderless voice spoke again.

“I will now explain the rules.”

His brain shook once more.

『 First, do not open your eyes. 』

『 Second, do not remove the monocle. 』

『 Third, do not ask any questions. 』

The voice continued.

“Very simple, is it not? You must follow them carefully. If you break them...”

His brain trembled.

『 Your soul shall wander the nine heavens, stripped of reason. Your flesh shall be buried beneath the earth and become fertilizer that forms Narak. 』

The voice returned.

“I trust you understand. Let me begin with a simple introduction. My name is Garnish. I am known to the world as the Second End.”

Garnish, the Second Apostle of the End, was an Archdemon who governed every kind of corruption and was already familiar to Johan.

“I invited you here. You seemed determined to waste time worrying about safety, so I used a somewhat forceful method. I hope you understand.”

Garnish continued.

“You are curious why you were invited, yes? Ah, that does not mean you should ask. Don't forget the rules. Even if you don't ask, I'll tell you everything. Why did I call you here? It's simple. I wanted to help you. By a miracle, a bridge formed between you and me, allowing us to interact for a short while. Shouldn't we make use of an opportunity when one appears? Through this opportunity, I intend to give you what you need most. What might that be? The Great Saint's corpse fragment.”

To corrupt Holy Spear Espada, Johan needed the Great Saint's corpse fragment.

“Espada was a Grade Four sacred relic, was it not? Ha ha! What an absurd situation. Corrupting a Grade Four sacred relic by offering a Grade One Holy Relic as a sacrifice. Anyone who heard it would burst out laughing. Of course, I am not laughing. I know there is no other choice.”

Johan had no alternative.

Rather than offering two thousand innocent humans as sacrifices, it was better to sacrifice one person who had received a Holy Relic transplant.

“Here, take it. It's slippery, so be careful. Don't grip it too tightly. It might burst. Ha ha!”

Something soft and squishy settled into Johan's grasp.

“Can you guess what this unpleasant texture is? No, you cannot. You probably cannot. It is the Great Saint's Intestines!”

Of course, Johan knew.

Five hundred years ago, Garnish had pierced the Great Saint's abdomen and pulled out the intestines. Garnish had kept them as a trophy ever since.

“You do not seem very surprised.”

“I feel nothing in particular.”

“Ahem.”

Garnish seemed slightly embarrassed.

Johan spoke.

“I don't know why you are helping me, and you say I cannot ask questions. Then there is only one thing I can say. I will put the intestines to good use.”

“Yes. You certainly should. It is such an extraordinary Holy Relic.”

In truth, the Great Saint's Intestines were the most useless part among the Holy Relics.

The expected effect of transplanting them was too trivial.

‘Was it automatic disposal of excrement?’

In a sense, it was a clean and sacred power.

But it was utterly worthless to Johan.

He spoke with his eyes closed.

“If you are finished, I would like you to send me out now.”

“...You are rather impatient.”

“I want to end this one-sided conversation quickly.”

Johan had far too many questions, yet he could not ask a single one.

His instincts warned him not to break the rules.

“I understand. I understand from the bottom of my heart, but there is one more item I must give you.”

“Bring it.”

“Do you think you left it with me?”

“You said you would give it to me.”

“...Very well. Take it for now.”

A sensation like tough leather passed through Johan's hand.

“Any mortal wearing this collar can enter and leave the crack as you do. You need a living Sacrificial Offering to place on the Corruptive Formation, do you not? Snatch anyone you please and bring them here. I will draw the Corruptive Formation for you. For your information, Holy Spear Espada and your corrupted body are in this place.”

A living Sacrificial Offering was still needed to activate the Corruptive Formation, but ordinary mortals could not enter and leave this place.

Even if Johan found a Sacrificial Offering, he could not place one on the Corruptive Formation.

The collar solved that problem.

Johan was quite pleased.

“You are a very good fellow.”

“And you are more shameless than I expected.”

“Either way, thank you. I will use it well.”

“You are welcome. It will all return to me someday.”

Nothing in the world was free.

Johan understood that better than anyone.

One day, he would have to pay the price for today.

“I understand, so send me out now.”