Kailen’s mercenaries, still nursing their wounds from the battle with the trolls, were suddenly ambushed by the villagers. By the time Kailen found them, it was too late—they had already been dragged out in front of the townsfolk.
The fire, which had consumed the barn and five thatched houses, finally died down. Kailen knelt on the ashes left by the flames, staring at the villagers.
The villagers glared at them, holding farming tools, pitchforks, and hand axes. From among them, a large man stepped forward, holding a bloodied Flesh Cleaver.
“On the day guests arrived in our village, a fire broke out…”
“W-we can explain! We were all quietly staying in the lodging you provided!”
“So, are you saying we started the fire ourselves?”
“N-no, not exactly… Wait! An earthquake! Couldn’t the fire have been caused by an earthquake? There was a lamp in the room I was staying in! If it fell, it could have started a fire!”
“No, no, no, no.”
The man slowly raised the Flesh Cleaver, scratching his forehead with the back of the blade.
“There was nothing in there that could start a fire. Our villagers don’t have expensive things like lamps. And the fire started in the barn.”
“Please! W-we belong to the Chepia Trading Company! If we disappear, a search will definitely begin!”
“Don’t worry about that. Your broken wagon will serve as evidence.”
The man smirked. The wagon, destroyed by the trolls, had been roughly cleared to the side of the road.
Moreover, the wagon bore clear marks of a monster’s attack—scratches and dents from the troll’s claws and arms. Kailen’s face grew paler. The man licked his lips, eyeing Kailen’s plump belly and his arms, which showed no signs of labor.
“You can help fill our bellies.”
“Y-yes! Yes! Food! If you let me go, I’ll definitely bring food…”
“No, ‘you’ can help fill our bellies.”
At the man’s words, Kailen’s mouth snapped shut. He stared at the bloodied Flesh Cleaver. When he was dragged here, his servants were nowhere to be seen.
“Where are my attendants…?”
“Ah, some are preparing to become one with us, and others are heading to a better place.”
The man chuckled softly and stepped back. The villagers parted, revealing the plaza. In the center stood a pole.
“What is that?!”
On the pole, his servants were hanging. They must have been beaten during the chaos, as their jaws were dislocated. They twisted in pain, bleeding as they hung from the pole.
On their foreheads was a strange butterfly-shaped brand, crudely carved with a sharp awl. Blood from the brand covered their faces, foaming as they struggled to breathe.
“What have you done…? Temple of the Gods, grant us your blessing… What have you done…?”
“We’ve given the meat a better purpose. You’ll join them soon. Haha. Don’t feel wronged. You’re becoming something greater!”
The man’s eyes gleamed with madness as he laughed. He slowly raised the Flesh Cleaver. Kailen’s face turned deathly pale.
Kirhas crouched on the roof, her ears perked up, growling softly. Her slender body was tense, ready to pounce at any moment.
“Just a little longer.”
“Your Excellency…”
At Angela’s words, Kirhas clenched her teeth and glanced at Fernandez. Fernandez frowned and asked Angela,
“How long do we have to wait?”
“Until we gather more concrete evidence. We didn’t infiltrate to enforce justice. We’ve waited this long to confirm the existence of the Necropolis.”
As she spoke, she began forming hand seals. Her movements were precise and simple, meant solely for destruction. But her seals were abruptly interrupted.
-Snap.
In an instant, Fernandez’s hand appeared, cutting off her seals and entwining her fingers. His grip was firm, and Angela frowned. It was the first expression she had shown since meeting Fernandez.
“What are you doing?”
“No magic. Angela, magic leaves traces.”
“…? Why can’t we leave traces? I’ve already used it once.”
“That’s exactly why you can’t use it again. We can still hide it.”
“That’s why I’m asking for a reason.”
“Our role isn’t that of mages. Just as I’m helping you, you need to help me.”
“…Role?”
“A very devout knight. Albert of Sernerd. He’s clueless about magic.”
Fernandez’s blue eyes scanned the plaza. Most of the villagers were insignificant heretics, but that man was different. He had learned proper rituals. He must be the village’s high priest.
From the moment the man displayed the servants in the plaza, Fernandez understood his intentions. The village’s food supply had already dwindled to unsustainable levels. In that situation, the man had made a swift decision.
It was demon summoning. He intended to summon a demon to gain power and turn the situation around. He would likely raid nearby villages. Leading simple serfs would be difficult, but with a demon’s power, it was feasible.
As the servants hung from the pole, their blood…
