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Chapter 216: The third story (2)
“We have been guided by the darkness,” one of the warlocks said, causing Hume’s eyes to narrow slightly.
He felt an odd discomfort.
Was there anyone who had ever let down their guard after seeing Lucion until now?
Hume, always ready to wield his greatsword, gently placed it on the ground.
Thud.
“I’m always ready to fight.”
“You don’t need to be on guard just yet.”
Lucion attempted to reassure Hume, sounding content as he too found the current relaxed atmosphere unusual.Nôv(el)B\\jnn
“What did the darkness say while guiding you?” Lucion asked, and the darkness responded immediately.
“They probably can’t understand us, right? Lucion barely heard us, didn’t he?”
“So let us tell you. We said to go this way and that way, and just now we called out for Lucion.”
What a strange answer.
The darkness spoke so proudly that Lucion momentarily speechless.
“I knew there was a darkness that wandered in nature, but I’ve never witnessed it firsthand,” one of the warlocks spoke up.
[That’s true. Even those blessed by the light can hardly see the light that drifts in nature, after all,] Russell added with a nod.
“Up until now, that is. When we attempted to escape, the darkness appeared and showed us the way.”
The mention of an escape attempt surprised Lucion.
It meant there had been no cooperation between Nevast and the warlocks.
‘They really go all out, don’t they?’
Feeling a headache coming on, Lucion let out a short breath.
[Of course. Warlocks voluntarily cooperating with the priests? That’s ridiculous. The world would probably be turned upside down if that were the case.]
Russell scoffed as he looked at the warlocks again.
Upon closer inspection, they resembled vagrants more than anything else.
Their clothes were new, but their faces were etched with the weariness of a long and difficult escape.
“Were you recruited as warlocks by Nevast, or were you captured?” Lucion asked, and one of them nodded.
“Captured. Yes, that’s correct.”
“Are there many who think like you? The warlocks I’ve seen working under Nevast didn’t seem this way.”
“We are rejected... outcasts. I don’t know who you’ve met, but they are different from us.”
The term ‘rejected’ left a sour taste in Lucion’s mouth, reminding him of his own history.
Swiftly changing the topic, he asked, “Are there any wounded among you?”
“There are.”
“Then please wait here for a moment.”
Lucion immediately used a communication device to contact Peter.
“I’m sorry, but I need you to return.”
“They have a wounded person. We can’t leave them there all night.”
Peter’s voice reflected a sense of guilt, as he had already figured it out.
“No, it’s my fault for instructing you to proceed first for confirmation. Regardless, return and attend to the injured first.”
After hearing Peter’s assurance, Lucion turned his attention back to the warlocks.
The warlock who had been talking to him was looking surprised.
“Anyone who is injured, please don’t hesitate to board the returning wagon.”
“D-Do you really trust us?”
“I don’t trust you. Have you forgotten that this is our first meeting?”
Lucion chuckled softly.
“But can you send us off without any inspection?”
“Are you suggesting we abandon the wounded, especially those you brought here?”
“What... what do you want?”
The warlock looked almost terrified, and Lucion felt oddly uncomfortable.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he had reacted similarly in the past.
“What can you offer? I have a lot of money.”
—That’s right! Ratta knows! If we head to the Luteon Magic Bank, Lucion has a ton of money stored in his vault! Ah... Ratta wants to visit there again. It shines here and there.
Ratta drooled as if food were placed right in front of her.
She didn’t even particularly like wearing jewels, yet she enjoyed moving around them.
It seemed Ratta knew a thing or two.
“...”
The warlock bowed his head and grasped the hem of his clothes.
He appeared to be ashamed of having nothing to offer.
Sensing his humiliation, Lucion spoke with a tone that discouraged further discussion on the matter.
“If you have nothing to offer, then please refrain from speaking. I have high standards and specific preferences.”
If they were just warlocks, he wouldn’t have minded their servility.
But as potential members of an organization, he couldn’t overlook it.
After all, they would soon represent the organization.
[Ugh. Are you satisfied with just a macaroon?]
Russell scoffed, then shifted his gaze at the stare from Bethel.
[...Well, that’s true. You know, don’t you, Bethel?]
“Mr. Hamel.”
Hume called out to Lucion.
She had sheathed her greatsword.
Hume himself didn’t have a name at first.
Because he had been called by a number like that, he felt a strong sense of empathy and wanted to say something, but he closed his lips, worried that it might burden Lucion.
“This isn’t going to work.”
Lucion’s voice was firm.
He determined that, regardless of Hume and Bethel’s gazes, dialogue in this situation was impossible.
“Did, did I do something wrong...?”
“No. Let’s start by giving you a name, and then we can converse.”
What kind of deed was this, leaving someone without a name?
Lucion looked to the darkness.
“Can I trust your judgment?”
“Of course!”
“Our eyes don’t make mistakes. They are just pitiful, unfortunate children.”
Darkness strengthened its voice.
Although it pleaded for Lucion to trust them, unease still lingered.
[Darkness doesn’t lie.]
Before Lucion could weigh his organization against them, Russell placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
[The darkness brought them here to help you, so they can’t be bad people.]
Only then did Lucion relax his shoulders and exhale.
To cleanse the Sea of Death, warlocks were necessary.
“Mr. Hamel. I’m back.”
Just then, Peter’s voice made Lucion feel truly relieved.
“Just take them all.”
“Yes. I was anticipating those words.”
“Feed them, give them a nice place to sleep.”
“Of course. We still have plenty of vacant rooms. And if we run out, we can clear out the storerooms. I’m sure Mr. Kran would agree.”
“...Um.”
As Number 45 spoke up, Lucion interrupted him.
“You can decide later. For now, focus on looking after yourselves.”
“I have something important to say. I must say this.”
Number 45 clenched the hem of his clothing and bit his lip, hesitating once again.
“If you choose to join the organization, you will never be abandoned. You won’t be taken advantage of. Most likely, all members will treat you warmly. That’s what Organization Ale stands for.”
Lucion’s mask turned blue.
“That’s right. The purpose of the organization is peace and freedom.”
Peter added on.
Though it wasn’t the true purpose behind the establishment of the organization, Lucion fidgeted with his fingers.
The organization Ale was created solely for himself.
But that wasn’t what mattered right now.
“Do you seek revenge, perhaps?”
At those words, Number 45’s eyes wavered.
“No.”
Number 45 shook his head.
“May I have a private conversation with Mr. Hamel?”
“Alright.”
Lucion nodded, and Peter turned to the rest of the warlocks.
“Everyone can follow me.”
Since Hamel had assured him they were fine, Peter felt more at ease and led the warlocks towards the wagon.
Meanwhile, Lucion walked a bit further into the woods with Number 45.
“Now that we’re far enough away, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
Lucion initiated the conversation.
Number 45 looked genuinely sorry, as if it were a sin to bring up such words.
“There is someone I want you to save. I need to let you know about this, but I don’t know how to tell you.”
“You mean the warlock?”
“No. Apart from us, they have likely either turned into corrupted warlocks or fallen under Nevast’s control.”
[If they resist, they become corrupted warlocks, and if they accept, they become puppets.]
Russell grimaced, as if looking at filth.
“We have been brainwashed since we were children. Because of that, we never thought about escaping Nevast.”
Number 45 seemed to suffer just from recalling that hell, briefly squeezing his eyes shut.
“But we managed to endure.”
Ting.
The red thread tightened.
It was the red thread connected to Troy.
‘Could it be?’
Lucion bit his lip.
“It was because the divine beasts protected us.”