Chapter 133 – The Jester’s Movements
A night had passed.
The sleeping ruins of the city awakened on the war-torn fields, with early sunlight spilling through the fluffy clouds. Outside the city, near the canal, the hubbub of voices filled the air. Men who had feasted on relief rations the previous day were under the orders of some nobles, hauling carts laden with corpses to dig graves at the foothills.
The fresh breeze ruffled the grassy slopes, lifting clouds of blackish-gray mist.
After a day and night of burning, the city’s stock of straw diesel was running low, and the Church’s time was nearly up. With manpower severely lacking and tasks piling up, the remaining dead—whether soldiers or civilians—had to be hastily buried to avoid rotting in the damp weather.
In Alectine City’s northern section, at the square camp.
The knights who had swapped shifts the previous night were now awake and donned in shimmering golden armor, standing tall in front of the square. Fully rested and brimming with combat spirit, the hundreds of them formed an imposing golden tide, all eyes fixed on the not-so-distant high platform where Isaac, the bald Pope Knight, was shouting at them.
“… We’ve exterminated all the rats in the city, but outside there are thousands of them that have fled! When they get hungry enough, they’ll start eating people—eating the very folks we’ve traveled miles to protect! These stinky rodents and shameless maggots deserved to be marked as enemies of humanity!”
“My brave, fearless warriors! Our battle is far from over! No matter where the heretics scurry off to, this time, we will fulfill the knight’s mission and bring noble glory to its rightful end. The only purpose left for your charge is—”
Clang—
The gleaming sword was drawn from his waist, and the hefty hero lifted it overhead, roaring like a beast: “Crush them! Wipe them out!!!”
In the next moment, a tidal wave of shouts erupted from the square.
Soon after, the horns of the horned horses echoed through the city as over a thousand knights surged forth, marauding through the ruined streets, charging from the north, south, and east of the city toward the distant wilds. With nobles and civilians aiding them, a massive net for capture was unfurling.
On the northern city wall, the citizens still cleaning up the battlefield glanced down at the departing knights. Some cheered loudly, while others wept softly, yet everyone shared the same uplifting emotion inside. After a moment, once they could no longer see the knights, they excitedly chatted among themselves and resumed their tasks.
Not far off, a number of headless corpses dressed in Merchant Association attire were dragged off the racks and tossed over the city walls. When a skinny, one-armed old man’s body was brought over, someone spat on him: “Bah! You scheming little tyrant from the Currency Exchange, old fox of city vermin! You didn’t stockgrain when disaster hit, didn’t help others, and got the Third Knights Order defeated, treating us like cattle. You deserve to d*e a bad d*ath!”
The old man’s corpse was kicked a few times by several strong men before being pushed over the city wall. Below the high wall, carts were already waiting nearby. Once the bodies were tossed, a few people moved up to haul the soft carcasses off to be buried outside the city.
The sunlight steadily rose.
The chaotic noise of conversation drifted from far off, and a young woman, having kicked off her light blanket from a corner, frowned and rolled her eyes open, waking up from her dreams.
“Hmm…”
The murmured groans were as enchanting as the world’s sweetest sleep talk. The girl rubbed her sleepy eyes, got up from the ground, sat cross-legged, and remained dazed for a while, yawning.
“Ha~”
That was a deep sleep…
…What time is it?
Light and the clamor of voices slipped through the gaps in the walls; I lifted my head and sat still in the light for a moment, untangling my messy hair. After that, I got up, did a quick brush-up, and as I stepped out from the barracks, I found myself locked in a gaze with Safiros, who was waiting at the door.
The man chuckled, “Lady Silvya, you’re finally awake.”
…?
“You…”
My head was still a bit foggy as I blinked at him, and after a moment, I furrowed my delicate brows: “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you to wake up.”
“… Waiting for me?”
While I absentmindedly played with my satin-like hair, I walked over to the edge of the city wall and peered down—chaos and bustling laborers below were pushing carts filled with broken bricks, going back and forth from inside and outside the city. Noble-looking men were directing them to dump the rubble into the distant canal or take it to set up makeshift workshops under tarps.
It was already bright outside.
Birdsong chirped from above, and through the thin mist, I caught glimpses of scattered golden-armored knights bustling about in the square. The numbers weren’t many, making the camp feel quite empty. Even further, the direction of the infirmary was obscured by a tall building, so it was hard to see…
Those knights who had been guarding the city wall seemed to have vanished too.
“Where’s Isaac?”
Waking up, I felt like everyone had vanished in an instant. My mind puzzled, I turned to Safiros, and then it hit me like a ton of bricks, making my eyes widen.
“What time is it now!”
I felt like I had woken from a daze.
Having not slept for nearly two days and enduring such intense combat, I was utterly exhausted and leaned against the wall after everything was done last night; it took less than three seconds for me to fall asleep—nobody had woken me up this morning… Please don’t tell me it’s already noon!
“Lady Silvya, lunch is almost ready in the camp, though it’s quite simple,” Safiros replied.
!!!
My eyes widened even bigger, first taken aback and then a bit mad.
“Then why didn’t you call me while just standing here!”
“I knocked on the door.” Safiros shrugged innocently, “For a long time.”
“……”
I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say.
Last night in the command tent, news had come in from scouts about several fleeing heretics spotted at the borders of Haret and Red City. After a brief meeting, Angel decided that today, Isaac would lead the knights out of the city to pursue them in batches, while envoy from Silgaya would accompany us to negotiate food matters with the two cities.
I certainly had to go along, not just to clear out the remaining heretics but also to gather intel on the clown’s precise location. Yet I had overslept!
I! SLEPT! IN!
For a moment, emotions roiled in my chest, scolding myself a thousand times for being such a fool. I anxiously said to Safiros: “Did they all—leave already? Why are you still here? You… I need a horned horse right now!”
I was so flustered that my words tumbled out, and while I started to jog toward the city wall, suddenly, I heard the man behind me say, “My lady, no need to rush; there has been a minor change in the situation…”
“… Huh?”
I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him.
A minor change?
“What change? What happened?”
“I’m not very clear on the specifics.” Safiros shrugged again: “In any case, you should head to the Pope, I was just here to notify you that he’s been waiting for you for a while now.”
“… Oh.”
Hadn’t everything already been arranged yesterday? Why was Angel looking for me now…
This couldn’t be anything good.
“Where is he?”
…………
Following Safiros, we strolled across the mid-northern wall to reach another watchtower about a hundred meters away.
It seemed like there was still a meeting happening inside; many people were present. As I walked in, the nobles of Alectine City, tax officials, and envoys from Emerald City all halted their discussions and turned to look at me. Angel, clad in grand robes, lifted his messy head from the round table.
Then, he waved his hand gently, saying, “You all can leave. Just do as I instructed; every step needs to be followed through. Whether Alectine City can weather this year’s chilly autumn depends on how much effort each of you puts in.”
The crowd bowed and retreated, and Safiros quietly left, shutting the wooden door behind him.
“What’s going on?”
I approached Angel and pulled out another chair to sit down, asking him.
The golden-haired man squinted at me, tilting his head, tapping his fingers on the table, producing a rhythmic sound like “tap, tap, tap,” as if he was deep in thought without saying a word. After a while, getting a bit irritated, I pushed his hand off the table: “Stop tapping. What’s the matter?”
Only then did the Pope let out a sigh.
“I was thinking whether to tell you this news… or whether you should know if it’s good or bad news.”
?
I said nothing, frowning intently at him.
Perhaps feeling the intensity of my gaze, he shuddered, ruffling his hair, his expression fraught. But not long after, he finally spoke.
“There’s concrete news on the jester’s whereabouts.”
