Chapter 243

242. The Emperor’s Eyes

The noble residential area of La Merthion was heavily guarded. However, nobles also used the waterways, and the number of water channels flowing into and out of the noble district was significantly higher compared to other areas.

Thus, the underground waterways leading to the center of the noble district were as tangled as a spider’s web. Yet, Iron Side moved through them as if he had memorized every path.

– Splash.

The waterways didn’t just carry polluted wastewater.

A sticky, slimy, and foul stench.

The stench of decaying corpses flowed along with the water.

A smell so thick it made the ground feel slippery and your head spin.

“Ugh…”

Covering your nose and mouth with a hood wasn’t enough to endure this stench. But those present here were a god, a dragon, a knight, and Iron Side.

Mythical beings, mages, or at least individuals capable of wielding magic within their bodies. They silently moved forward, dealing with the walkers.

“Feels like I’ve become a janitor.”

“Why, isn’t it a good experience? When else would you, a noble lord, get to experience something like this? Let’s think of it as volunteer work.”

“First, I’m not a noble. Iron Side.”

– Slash.

The knight swung his sword, cutting off a walker’s head. He shook off the blade and spoke.

“And don’t speak to me first.”

“Touchy, aren’t we? Are you guys okay over there? The target isn’t far now.”

“I don’t need to worry. But… yeah. It’s disgusting.”

Abel looked with bitter eyes at the corpses floating down the muddy stream.

“We’ve dealt with over forty-nine wraiths. These wraiths… raised by vampires, they only last until their bodies fully decay. So, these corpses were made at least half a month… considering the winter, at least a couple of months ago.”

“Yeah. Fresh corpses.”

“Then, the one who caused this tragedy has been taking at least one life a day for the past couple of months. For a long time, skillfully.”

“…That’s right.”

At Abel’s words, Iron Side closed his eyes for a moment.

Abel placed her blade on the forehead of a twitching corpse and swiftly brought it down.

The corpse convulsed briefly before stopping. Abel let out a deep sigh and bowed her head.

“All living beings inevitably swallow other lives during their time alive. I’m not denying that…”

Even if they are vampires.

Not all vampires drink human blood by choice, and not all vampires became vampires by choice.

To borrow Fernandez’s tone, yes. There is room for consideration.

If they wander under the sewers, avoiding the sun in sorrow, occasionally seeking survival. It’s tragic, but understandable.

The human guardian dragon acknowledges that it’s not much different from the sins humans commit.

It’s a characteristic of the species. Just as a lion preying on an antelope isn’t a sin. It can be a target for eradication, but not for hatred.

However. These corpses… they’re filled with rotten blood. Their arms and legs bear deep wounds.

They’re limping not just from decay, but from wounds clearly inflicted while they were alive.

“Taking lives not for survival but for pleasure… it’s despicable.”

Abel pulled her blade from the corpse’s head and spoke. Her blue eyes were blazing.

She shook off her blade and led the way. Everyone present was overwhelmed by her aura and quietly followed.

* * *

Pausing briefly behind the iron bars, Iron Side carefully pulled out a lockpick.

With a clank, the old iron bars opened. A gust of hot air blew through.

“This passage leads to the lord’s residence. Everyone, we don’t know what might happen here. Let’s be careful.”

– Creak.

The old door opened with a chilling sound. A long corridor lit by gloomy torches appeared. A distinct smell of blood flowed through it.

– …

A faint sound was heard. In the middle of the corridor, small doors were ajar, and whispers could be heard.

No one here had senses weaker than an ordinary person. Everyone was pale with fear.

At least five doors lined this corridor, and from behind each came the sounds of pained moans and maddened murmurs.

The knight cautiously opened one door. It wasn’t locked.

“Daddy’s here. Hold daddy’s hand. My good girl. My girl.”

A man was sobbing, chained up. He was fumbling with something small and muttering.

The knight’s veins bulged. Extreme anger seemed to paralyze his reason. At that moment, Iron Side placed a hand on the knight’s shoulder.

– Grind.

The knight gritted his teeth and turned around. His eyes were bloodshot. Iron Side slowly shook his head.

“We can’t save them all and escape. Our target is only the lord.”

“Are you saying… to ignore… that sight?”

“Hey, Inner Circle sir. Haven’t we seen too many filthy scenes to talk about our sensibilities?”

The Inner Circle of the Dane Kingdom isn’t much different from the Empire’s Iron Side. Assassinations, terrorism, political maneuvers, and sabotage. Naturally, they had to handle the kingdom’s dirtiest secrets themselves.

Thus, they had to be accustomed to the most inhumane and despicable scenes. It was an era where demons laughed in every shadow.

If you turned your eyes away, even for a moment. Parents killing their children, children poisoning their parents—such scenes were almost routine.

Harsh exploitation, rampant bandits, spreading plagues, mad mages’ experiments, attacks by other races and monsters.

In such a world, tenant farmers and serfs were utterly powerless, and this level of tragedy was common across the feudal kingdoms of the Eastern Kingdom Alliance.

Thus, one had to get used to it. At her words, the knight lowered his gaze and growled.

“What can we do here? If it’s just about exposing this, we could return now without any issues.”

“At least we should take the lord’s head. We need evidence, don’t we?”

Iron Side spoke coldly. Mere eyewitness testimony couldn’t start a war. But bringing back the head of a vampire, especially a lord turned vampire, would change the story.

From that point, a holy war could be declared. The corruption of a lord is no small matter, and if it’s a grand lord, the impact would be significant.

Even without the backing of the Church of the Temple of the Gods, the Round Table Council of the Dane Kingdom holds a powerful tradition.

[The War of Pilgrimage]. A war where nobles and royals set aside their titles and fight as pilgrim knights. A war sworn to dedicate oneself to a greater cause beyond affiliation and status. A war that requires unanimous agreement from all Round Table knights.

In this era, it was a tradition in name only, with the last recorded War of Pilgrimage being 400 years ago. Yet, it was a tradition with deep roots, dating back to the first War of Pilgrimage led by the first Knight King Dane against the Church of the Underground Burial.

“So that’s why you requested our support.”

“Yes. To be honest… you’re right. King Vicente is someone who would gladly declare a holy war with even the smallest evidence.”

King Vicente’s influence over the Round Table Council had already surpassed that of a feudal kingdom. He was a hero who had achieved mythic status in his time, and the Round Table knights were knights first before being grand lords.

He was the king who had dealt with the schemes of a fallen witch, the resurrection of the legendary Church of the Underground Burial, and crushed the legions of the undead. His authority rivaled that of an absolute monarch, not just a feudal king.

There was no chance his declaration of a War of Pilgrimage would be rejected by the Round Table Council. It was a plan crafted after fully understanding the domestic situation. The knight let out a deep sigh.

‘It was a scheme using His Majesty’s will. But… should we refuse?’

The knight’s eyes fell on the man chained up.

His face was obscured by a thick beard and hair, but…





The nearly naked man’s filthy body was covered in scabbed scars. His emaciated, frail frame, and the small hand he clutched—severed cleanly by something sharp. The man trembled, muttering incoherently.

“Our daughter. Don’t cry. Don’t cry… The scary men will come… Daddy will stay by your side, don’t cry.”

Whispers of that kind echoed throughout the hallway. From every room, consistently. The wails of the mad. The cries of those who had lost their kin…

Grinding his teeth, the knight drew his sword hilt. With a rough gesture, he pushed Iron Side aside and stepped forward. They walked down the corridor for a while longer.

* * *

The Grand Lord of La Merthion, Vermand de Vares. One of the eight Elector Counts of the Empire, he had consistently supported the pro-Imperial faction since the current Emperor’s ascension.

A great noble who controlled the Silk Road extending from the Eastern Kingdom, amassing vast wealth and building power through gold. A man known as the Empire’s financial lifeline.

“And they didn’t assign a single Imperial escort to such a man?”

Iron Side narrowed his eyes as he walked through the corridors of the Lord’s Residence. No matter how late it was, the complete lack of activity was strange.

The mansion was impeccably maintained. Not a single speck of dust, let alone cobwebs, could be seen. The marble and bronze staircases, the corridors, and the red carpets covering them—everything was pristine.

It was as if the mansion was made of gold. Every corner was adorned with the most expensive luxuries from across the Empire.

Iron Side cautiously walked forward, whispering, “This is strange.”

“A trap, you mean?”

“If they wanted to lure us down, they wouldn’t have left evidence in the basement. Why is there no one here? The Emperor wouldn’t have left this man unattended.”

At that moment, Freya suddenly raised her head. She tilted her head slightly and said, “Unattended…?”

“What do you mean?”

“Unattended… Isn’t that strange?”

Freya paused for a moment, tilting her head.

“The people in the basement were unattended.”

“…What?”

“It means there were no signs of them having eaten for at least a week. Their stomachs were empty. The wounds on their skin were just festering from delayed treatment as their life force drained. There were no fresh wounds within the past week.”

The Goddess of Spring narrowed her eyes as she spoke.

She was the goddess of flower buds, spring breezes, and birth, as well as the one who embraced the dead and forged them into Einherjar. She was more sensitive to the lifespan of the living than anyone.

“To enjoy the suffering of those captured as slaves?”

“While torture is ruled out… aren’t these people vampires? No matter how scarce food is, they wouldn’t starve their own livestock. Even if they fed them thin gruel, they would still keep them alive.”

Even if they were captured as playthings, it would be inefficient and meaningless to torture them and then let them starve to death.

Freya spoke with the sensibility of a Northerner. Perhaps her focus on efficiency was due to not being distracted by the cruel environment.

“A week…”

Iron Side stroked his chin as he listened. Then, he suddenly widened his eyes and shuddered.

“I was dispatched to this region a week ago.”

“Meaning they stopped feeding since then?”

“They knew about my actions in advance? Was there a traitor among us? No, that’s possible. There could always be a traitor… but. Why?”

Did the Grand Lord abandon his territory and flee? Even leaving the evidence behind?

Impossible. If they had a spy within Iron Side, they could have just assassinated the arriving agents.

Then why…?

“Is it certain that the Emperor would want to protect this city’s lord?”

“Of course.”

“And you said the Emperor anticipated your movements?”

“Probably.”

Abel nodded and gripped her sword hilt. She coldly glared at the upper floor of the staircase.

“The Emperor would try to stop your actions and protect the lord, but there must be a card he could play when the lord’s actions couldn’t be exposed to the outside. An assassin who is loyal to him but holds firm personal convictions. Someone who disapproves of the lord’s misdeeds and possesses exceptional personal combat skills. I’ve seen such a person in the wilderness. Do you know who it is?”

“…The Emperor’s Eye.”

The Sun Spear, Daryan Schryke. The Empire’s strongest. The Emperor’s Spear. The chosen of Shield. The Emperor’s hound…

The man who assassinated the most Imperial nobles during the last 50 years of war.

“Come out and defend your actions.”

As soon as Abel spoke, the door leading to the upper corridor opened.

A lavish reception room appeared. At the same time, a nauseating stench of blood wafted through.

Sticky… but different from a sewer. The smell of fresh blood.

“Daryan Schryke. Have you fallen too?”

“Such disappointing words.”

A grim voice echoed. The group drew their weapons and slowly approached the door. The reception room was drenched in blood.

Corpses were scattered everywhere. People dressed as servants lay on the floor, cold and lifeless, each with a hole in their chest or head.

In the midst of it all, two men stood.

A fat, pale middle-aged man in a well-tailored suit, and a young man with a radiant spear slung over his shoulder, looking down at the floor.

“I executed these scum… in the name of the Empire.”

“These people…”

Sharp fangs and claws. The corpses were all vampires. So that was why there were no servants in this massive mansion. Iron Side coldly glared at the fat middle-aged man.

“If we consider the deeds committed by Duke Vares, the ones who deserve to be beheaded are not these poor victims. Daryan.”

“The Duke’s life belongs to His Majesty the Emperor, and His Majesty wishes for the Duke’s life to be prolonged.”

“Why follow that order?”

Iron Side sharply looked at him and gripped his sword hilt.

“You are a temple knight of the Shield Church, Daryan. Why are you obeying a vampire?”

“If the Empire falls, more blood will flow.”

Daryan looked up at her. His bloodshot eyes burned like those of a wounded beast.

“Even if it’s not right. Even if it’s not right, the blood of the innocent should flow in the direction of less harm. Cutting out the Empire’s rot? If we follow the Crown Prince’s plan, the Empire will no longer remain an Empire. War will break out, and countless people will die.”

A vampire’s predation is limited to individuals. As long as the Church’s authority remains, vampires can never cross a certain line.

The blood spilled by one person’s evil deeds is clearly lighter than the blood spilled by a group’s war. A lesser evil to prevent greater harm. An artificial peace created for minimal damage.

What is more just? What is justice?

Daryan couldn’t give a definitive answer. His conviction, like that of other temple knights, was “peace for the innocent.” It wasn’t ambition for power that kept him by the Emperor’s side.

He had made himself the Emperor’s last line of defense. Even though the Emperor had fallen and his actions caused bloodshed, condemning the Emperor would inevitably bring about a greater catastrophe.

Someone was needed to watch the Emperor within the bounds of not crossing the minimal line. Daryan had sworn to do so, even as he saw the Emperor’s corruption. To act towards the light, even while mired in filth.

Thus, his spear. The divine relic of Shield, the Sun Spear, still burned.

“The Emperor is a necessary evil.”

Even if he is a cancerous tumor eating away at the Empire, if cutting it out would kill the patient, it must be endured.

“There is no alternative.”

“You are… Fernandez’s lover, aren’t you?”

“Do you remember me?”

“How could I forget such a remarkable person? Your presence means… he has finally joined hands with the Crown Prince.”

Daryan smiled bitterly. Perhaps he had hoped that Fernandez, who had brutally subjugated the Beastmen and gathered fallen dark mages under his command to march against the Great Demon, would understand him.

“Seeing his face, I will turn a blind eye to your retreat.”

“Shh, Sir Schryke! Those rebels will never give up!!”

“Shut up.”

Daryan pressed the spear blade against the trembling Duke’s neck and said, “Go. Tell your lord my intentions. And Abel. Tell Fernandez I wish to meet him.”

“When and where do you want to meet?”

“Tell him I will come to him.”