Episode 372

And yet, it didn't matter how upset I was. My heated mind cooled down. I didn't have the strength to face the Dark Pope. I didn't have the reputation to confront the Golden Lord. I didn't have the influence to change the tide. That was who I was right now.

Ozma said, "That is all I wanted to say. I don't know what you are going to do, but the situation might get worse if you clumsily intervene. So take care of yourself."

I said nothing.

"Ah, right. What should I do to meet Miss Lise?" Ozma said it as if in passing, but this remark seemed to be the real point behind coming all the way here in the middle of the night.

I raised my head and replied, "We will go there ourselves. The Emerald Tower, is it? If you have some kind of pass that lets us enter then give it to me."

"I understand. Here you go." Ozma coldly held out something as if she had been waiting. I received it and saw it was a piece of paper shaped like a star.

"This is?" I asked.

"A magic sticker. If you stick it on any door and open it, you will be able to go to the Emerald Tower."

The method was different, but it was similar to the key that Lise had given me. Apparently, mages liked to pass through the medium of doors.

"I understand. Then I'll see you next month or the month after that."

"Yes. I wish you good luck. Did you say your name was Nalu? You must never die." With those words, Ozma left the Gloomy Sunday tavern.

I finally had room to take a breather. I took off my mask and leaned back in the chair. Strangely, my mind and body were tired.

Seren told me, "That is a bad habit."

"What?"

"Taking off your disguise just because there are no eyes here."

She nagged like Ludwig. I hadn't seen Seren in a while, but she now seemed even more cautious. It was undoubtedly due to working as the master of an intelligence guild.

"Is it dangerous here?" I asked.

"That isn't the case, but this is something you should be aware of on a daily basis."

"Cut me some slack. Starting from tomorrow, I won't have a moment to breathe," I told her. In response, Seren said nothing. I asked, "In any case, do you have any water?"

Seren got up and brought me a water bottle. I didn't think there was a cup, so I just opened the lid and poured it into my mouth. Maybe it was because the tavern was right upstairs, but the air here was cold enough to wake me up fully. I wasn't very thirsty, but I drank it all at once. The burning in my chest finally started to ease a bit.

I tried to organize my thoughts alone, but Seren was already sitting right in front of me. I asked, "Is everything that was said true?"

Seren had been standing and studying a map. Now she glanced at me before moving toward a bookshelf. Her fingers skimmed across the books before stopping at a certain point. She pulled out a file and spread it out on the table, asking me, "What do you think this is?"

"I don't know," I replied.

"These are numbers from the past ten years on the prisoners and slaves that have been transferred to the Rahild Labor Camp. It is only approximate, but it also includes racial distribution. You can use it as a reference."

I had a disease that made my head hurt just looking at numbers. However, the writing on the document was neat and the information well-organized. I could endure it.

I read the contents and quickly realized that Ozma wasn't wrong at all. The number of prisoners sent to the labor camp every year hadn't changed much, but the proportion of lesser races was increasing.

"At first, I thought that maybe non-humans were better at adapting so they were taken more often. That isn't the case. What they need over there now isn't labor or adaptability, but skill, right? The strong also aren't confined to one race," Seren said.

That was true. In fact, it was more accurate to say that there were far more strong individuals among the seven races. It wasn't a matter of talent, but rather the environment.

I asked, "So you are saying that the Golden Lord really did figure out the church's plan and has been taking measures in her own way to stop it?"

"From what has been revealed, this is indeed how it looks," Seren answered. After a moment of silence, she asked, "By the way, what made you come all the way to the south?"

I replied, "Things became a bit twisted."

I told Seren about the Utgard Camp. A great prisoner, originally going to be imprisoned in the camp, had suddenly been transferred to a southern labor camp.

Seren frowned and said, "Big Boss Gustav."

"Did you know that he was taken to the labor camp?"

"Yes."

As expected of the master of an intelligence guild, I thought. I asked, "Then that alias, Shi-Hyeon, was deliberately chosen as well? Should I call you that here too? Miss Shi-Hyeon?"

"I hope you will, Mr. Nalu."

Somehow, I felt like I had lost in this exchange. I made a bitter expression.

Meanwhile, Seren continued, "Of course, this doesn't mean the situation is good enough for us to sit back and watch. From what I see, the Golden Lord and the church are in a battle of nerves right now."

"Battle of nerves?"

"For the Golden Lord, the Rahild Labor Camp is a natural goldmine. Artifacts only started appearing there around ten years ago, but in that time, she has multiplied her fortune at least tenfold. In other words, she wants to walk the tightrope as far as possible, narrowly securing the church's property."

I wondered if money was really that good. I couldn't quite understand it. Perhaps it sounded like the spoiled complaint of someone who had grown up rich, but in my experience, money lost its thrill once you had enough.

I had been incredibly happy when I earned thousands of gold from killing the Sapphire Snake. Later, I felt nothing when I saw tens of thousands of gold coming and going at the auction house. I hadn't even thought about wanting all that money. I didn't feel jealous when I saw the so-called nouveau riche.

As for the Golden Lord, she was one of the five greatest people in the empire in terms of personal wealth. I couldn't understand why someone who had accumulated so much wealth would lose her mind chasing after even more.

"The worst thing is that I think the church is also aware of the Golden Lord's thoughts," Seren said.

"Mm."

According to Seren's words, it was evident that the Golden Lord and the Dark Church were currently engaged in an invisible battle of nerves or tug-of-war.

I said, "So it will be a big jackpot if she succeeds, but she will lose it all if she fails."

"That's right. So, it seems that the Golden Lord is also preparing various countermeasures."

"Countermeasures?"

"Don't you know? The Golden Lord came into contact with the Iron-Blooded Lord."

"I know that," I said. I swallowed down the words, You told me.

"The Golden Lord's plan is quite plausible. She must have multiple safeguards. If everything goes to plan, the church will be left with massive losses. If there is one thing she is currently overlooking, however..." Seren trailed off.

"It must be the existence of the Dark Pope," I finished.

In the end, the real problem was still that one being.

Seren said, "Under normal circumstances, this problem would be beyond us. We would have to request reinforcements from the imperial court or the Hero Society. There are two reasons why I'm not doing that right now."

I hadn't seen Seren in a long time. I noticed that her tone and demeanor had become more meticulous. She explained things one by one as if carefully laying out every detail. Maybe that was a result of her running the intelligence guild.

She explained, "One: If we try to bring in reinforcements, the Dark Pope could realize it and disappear immediately."

"Then the second reason?" I asked.

"The presence of your father, who came here by chance. If it is the Iron-Blooded Lord, it might be enough to deter the Dark Pope."

I stopped myself from saying anything more. Of course, I had unwavering faith in the Iron-Blooded Lord, no, Delac. No matter what dangers or hardships he experienced, I was convinced he wouldn't get seriously hurt. That was still the case even now that he had lost his memory.

But if the opponent was the Dark Pope, I honestly didn't know. Even when Delac was the Iron-Blooded Lord, he must've relentlessly hunted the Dark Pope, the root of all evil. Yet as far as I knew, that pursuit had never yielded any results.

If he had obtained any information about the Dark Pope, it would have made sense to spread that information widely. Just describing their appearance could help restrict the Dark Pope's movements.

Yet throughout the decades Delac had spent as the Iron-Blooded Lord, the Dark Pope remained as elusive as ever. The veil surrounding that figure had never been lifted.

Seren said, "The conversation has become a bit long, but what we need to do hasn't changed. We need to stop the demon king summoning. If the demon king actually descends, everyone is dead anyway. Setting aside the underhandedness of her methods, I think the Golden Lord's plan is reasonable."

"So we should just sit back and watch for now?"

"Not at all. This is a race against time. If we track down the Dark Pope and catch them before the demon king is summoned, it is our victory. If not, we will have no choice but to follow the Golden Lord's plan." Seren's tone was cold and unwavering as she concluded, "We will then have no choice but to sacrifice the lesser races."

***

I couldn't sleep, so after returning to the inn, I stayed up all night staring at the ceiling. Even once morning came and Lise woke up, I was in a daze as I tended to her.

I soon heard her clicking her tongue in disapproval and saying, "You nag me every time you look at me, but it seems like you haven't slept at all."

"Is it that obvious? There are no dark circles under my eyes," I replied.

"Pretend all you want, but it is obvious."

"Um, I'm sorry. You are about to leave soon. I didn't intend this."

Lise scoffed. "Don't bother comforting me like a child. This isn't the last time something like this will happen. Start focusing from now on."

I nodded and pushed away all distracting thoughts. I spent the remaining time trying to entertain Lise as much as possible.

Lise was calm, but just before leaving, she stopped by the De Marlin Refreshments store and bought a lot of cookies. Her face was filled with lingering regret. She said, "Call me again in a month."

"Yes."

"Don't forget to stop by when you have time. I remember you saying that you would learn the ancient fairy language."

"Of course. I will drop by as soon as things in the south are finished. By the way, do you really not know anything about the Dark Pope?" I asked casually without many expectations.

"I do. I've met them before," Lise answered.

"Huh?" I was confused. She'd responded in such a matter-of-fact manner that I thought I heard it wrong for a moment. I continued, "What do you mean?"

"Why are you so surprised? It was before you were even born."

"No, isn't meeting them a big deal?"

"We met in a dream, so what would be the point?"

"Ah."

Come to think of it, the Dark Pope manipulated dreams and only made contact with the targets within the dream itself. That was the case with Juan, the great teacher who had become a traitor to the Badnikers.

"How did you meet the Dark Pope?" I asked.

"I received an offer to be a priest."

"Ah."

I was convinced the moment I heard that. Lise was the most knowledgeable about dark magic among anyone I knew. Black magic was closely related to demon summoning. It meant that she had truly been a coveted talent to the Dark Church.

"What was the Dark Pope like?" I asked.

"I don't know," Lise answered.

"Huh?"

"Didn't I tell you that they control dreams? If not for it being me, I would've forgotten that I even met the Dark Pope. I only faintly remember meeting them. Nothing about their mannerisms, speech, or appearance comes to mind."

Hearing this, I realized that simply remembering anything was already remarkable.

"But there is one piece of advice I can give you," Lise continued.

"Please speak."

"Don't get entangled with the Dark Pope." Lise looked at me with her purple eyes and said in a hoarse voice, "You will die."

***

Lise left and I returned to the inn. It seemed there was only around an hour left. Soon, Ludwig or Seren would come to knock on the door. By then, I had to make a decision.

I could infiltrate the labor camp as Luzard, as initially planned. Or I could start tracking down the Dark Pope from outside as Luan.

I summarized my thoughts one last time, going back to basics.

The reason I now felt sorry for the lesser races was, naturally, due to Corrupted. Even the Hero Society viewed them cynically, but it was this rejected non-human group that had shown me pride as a hero.

So were all lesser races good? Were innocent beings being persecuted by society simply due to their birth? That wasn't the case. As Feed had once said, the majority of criminals still causing trouble in the empire were lesser races. Ultimately, some of the prejudice, persecution and contempt toward them were caused by their own actions.

So I couldn't know what kinds of beings they were until I met them personally.

Lightning filled my mind once I reached that point in my thoughts. In the end, I suddenly realized what I needed right now: I had to see for myself.

I would enter the labor camp. Then, no matter whether they were falsely accused or truly guilty, I would see the soon-to-be-sacrificed lesser races with my own eyes and make my own judgment. If the ones I saw truly deserved death, I could just let the Golden Lord's plan proceed. But if not, if the ones I witnessed were just ignorant weaklings, I could act according to my conscience.

I could end up being misunderstood as helping the church and even risk turning Delac into an enemy. However, I would just have to think about it at that time. If things went badly, I could just regress and try again.

So, I decided.

"Let's just go for it," I said to myself. The words closest to my true feelings finally escaped my lips.

I smiled with a sad heart and squeezed the Black Dragon Fang. The long period of persecution and contempt that I had experienced as Nalu was over. Now it was time to return to being Luzard, the lone lizardman warrior.