Ch.153153. Wanted (3)

The smell of death, extremely close, filled the room. Ashen sunlight filtered through the church windows, and musty dust particles from the old bedspread floated in the sunbeams. I sighed as I looked down at the bishop’s mangled body. He must have treated his wounds alone, as the table in the room was cluttered with bloodstained cloths, scissors, and thread.

“I think it would be better to call Isis.”

“It’s fine. I’ve taken all the necessary measures. I won’t die immediately.”

Surprisingly, his voice was clear when he answered. Of course, I couldn’t imagine this man responding with a dying voice. He would probably wear a gentle smile even at the moment of death.

“What happened to the other personnel?”

“They scattered. Aryen… didn’t particularly try to chase us. Thanks to that, we survived.”

The bishop’s smile turned bitter.

“Fortunately, my back wasn’t cut, so I could treat my wounds myself. My limbs weren’t severed either. But it’s difficult to move properly right now.”

The bishop creakily turned his head toward me.

“What do you plan to do with the mercenary?”

“I don’t know yet. I don’t even know what happened to him.”

A shadow fell across Andre Zabine’s face. The bishop’s hazy gray eyes half-closed, then opened again.

“At that time, Aryen seemed to be controlled by something. He took the attack of something like black fog in my place. And then… he suddenly started swinging his sword.”

“Was his mind being controlled?”

“…I really don’t know.”

The bishop shook his head. I frowned deeply.

“For someone possessed by an evil entity, he seemed quite lucid, and we could communicate. He did seem distracted by something else, though. I couldn’t say it wasn’t the mercenary.”

I looked back at Isila, and she nodded in agreement with the bishop’s words. It was strange. If he hadn’t been consumed by that darkness, there should be a reason for his sudden change. What on earth happened to Aryen?

“…Do you have any guesses?”

“None at all. He was always contemplating something during our time together, but I don’t think it was ever as shallow a concern as whether to betray us or not.”

His subordinates were dead, and he was severely injured. It was a situation where one might lose their mind and go berserk, but the bishop remained calm. No, perhaps the shock had exceeded the threshold and brought him back to his senses.

“Any notable details? Anything else?”

“…He was strong. Not in power, but in technique.”

The bishop frowned with frustration.

“That was the decisive reason I thought the mercenary wasn’t possessed. Usually, when something strange takes over a body, magical output becomes abnormally high, or physical strength exceeds human levels. But… that wasn’t the case with Aryen.”

The bishop added that it was as if he had revealed skills he had been hiding.

“I thought I could defend myself reasonably well in one-on-one combat, but I was nowhere close. The mercenary overwhelmed me completely. It was as if he was slowly toying with me before killing me. Thanks to that, I was able to create an opening and escape. Or perhaps he deliberately let me go.”

“As for where Aryen went…”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think he could have gone far, but…”

The bishop gazed at me thoughtfully.

“It’s complicated. I can’t tell the Hero what to do. I’m sorry I can’t be of help in this state.”

The bishop smiled weakly, and I shrugged. Perhaps he had spoken too much; there was no strength in his voice at the end.

“Will you depart right away?”

“I need to catch him before he causes more trouble. We can decide how to deal with him later, but first we need to prevent anything else from happening.”

I gently pressed down on Isila’s shoulder as she tried to stand up with me. Isila hesitated, glanced at the bishop, then sat back down. When her eyes questioned me, I shook my head.

“I think it’s better for Isila to stay here. Please be the bishop’s hands and feet.”

“Yes, understood.”

After facing that darkness before, I realized. This journey to meet Aryen was not one I should take with anyone else. It was something I had to face alone. I made that resolution and gripped the Holy Sword.

I would soon meet that twisted one again.

The words the darkness left behind. They weren’t meant to deceive or enchant me. To me, the description of being “twisted” felt like more than just a distortion of personality.

“Hero.”

Suddenly, I heard Bishop Andre calling me. I lowered my head to look at him.

“The deaths of the inquisitors are natural. Please, don’t feel any emotion about them. Exclude us from your value judgments, and act solely according to your own thoughts and decisions.”

It was a difficult request. I couldn’t easily nod in agreement. It was essentially asking me to ignore the deaths I knew about. I wasn’t confident I could face Aryen without mentioning those deaths.

“I can’t promise, but I can say I’ll remember your words.”

“…I appreciate that.”

I nodded heavily and turned away. I heard a wet cough that seemed to have been held back. I also heard Isila moving in alarm. I left the church, leaving all that behind. I could only hope the bishop would safely make it through the night.

==

“One room. Three nights for now? 20 gold.”

The innkeeper handed me the key indifferently without taking his eyes off the booklet he was reading. Short, carelessly cut hair, muscular body covered with flesh. He was probably once a successful adventurer. Made enough money, opened an inn, and retired. A life many adventurers would envy.

“Um, I’d like to ask you something.”

I was facing the innkeeper with a worn hood pulled over my head, just like Aryen used to wear. As if such customers were common, he looked up with a familiar attitude.

“Many people come asking questions like that. Whether I’ll answer readily…”

The innkeeper stared at me for a while. A gaze trying to read a person. Eyes trying to see who was under the hood. I released a bit of mana to block him. The momentary pressure that leaked out made the booklet in the innkeeper’s hand drop to the floor.

“…Who are you?”

The innkeeper asked in a voice that seemed to be sweating with fear. If he had the sense to survive as an adventurer until now, he would know it was foolish to ask that.

“No, I asked the wrong question. What do you want to know?”

“Do you know anything about this person?”

I took out a poster with Aryen’s portrait drawn on it. The amount written below was 8 million gold. The innkeeper took the paper and frowned.

“I see… So you’re also here to catch this infamous 8 million gold bounty?”

“Do you know something?”

The innkeeper looked around cautiously. When I gave him a puzzled look, he lowered his head and voice and began to speak. His gaze was directed behind me, toward a table full of adventurers with fierce expressions. They were all on edge, quietly discussing something.

“See how tense the atmosphere is? This place isn’t usually this quiet. It’s all because of the guys who went after this 8 million gold bounty recently.”

The innkeeper tapped on the number 8 million written on the poster. I sighed deeply. It seemed Aryen’s actions were flowing in a much more violent direction than I had expected.

“Ten renowned bounty hunters, mercenaries, and adventurers formed a party to catch this Aryen Elmione. I’ve heard of this guy before. But now…”

Both Aryen and the whereabouts of those ten adventurers have been unknown for days.

“The adventurers are quite on edge. Some are afraid of retaliation, while others want to go after this 8 million gold bounty like those ten missing adventurers. To me, it all looks like foolish struggling.”

“You’re not wrong. It is foolish.”

I replied as I picked up the key from the counter. I could feel some keen-eared individuals perking up and focusing on the conversation between the innkeeper and me. A sane adventurer wouldn’t mess with the innkeeper, and they would probably pounce on me like a pack of dogs once our conversation ended.

“You seem relaxed. You must know something.”

“I can tell you want to mess with me, innkeeper.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Didn’t you think those guys were moths to a flame?”

“Perhaps.”

I smiled bitterly. It had been quite a while since I felt like I was being tested.

“Just answer one last question for me.”

“Ask away.”

The innkeeper smiled.

“Those missing bounty hunters, where were they headed?”

“The border region. Well, I don’t think Aryen Elmione is still there.”

“That’s enough.”

I turned around. Hostile gazes pierced me like a rain of arrows. From behind me, I heard the innkeeper’s voice.

“Will you have dinner? Today it’s potato stew.”

At that nonchalant question, I frowned deeply under my hood. I wondered if this was really the same person who had been so frightened just moments ago.

“Yes. Please bring it to my room.”

“You might actually have a chance. Good luck.”

Ignoring the innkeeper’s words, I moved to leave the inn. Thud, thud. My footsteps echoed in the quiet lobby. In rhythm with my steps, the adventurers’ heartbeats pounded. Perhaps I looked like I knew something. Thanks to that, by the time I reached the entrance, I could easily guess what was about to happen to me.

Bang.

As expected, my path was blocked. A giant man stood in front of the door, with several adventurers lined up behind him. I decided to stand still and listen to what these people had to say.

“Just tell us what you know. I don’t like pretending to be nice.”

The giant’s voice. I saw George overlapping with this giant. The other might be bigger in size, but there was no comparison in terms of intimidation. Behind. The approaching adventurers weren’t that high-level either. How could I make them give up on going after Aryen without hurting them?

Click.

The door locked. I glanced at the innkeeper, who was pretending to read his booklet as if he had nothing to do with this. The eyes of beasts. In the end, what they wanted was the 8 million gold bounty.

“Now, let’s begin, in memory of our bounty hunters who went ahead of us.”

“[So many annoying people.]”

I agree.

I sighed deeply and drew up my magical power.

Rumble.

Space began to tremble.

“Open the door.”