Ch.47005 Investigation Record – The Sword Thief of the National Museum (2)

The sword thief reaches for the Hexenbane. His hands tremble, and a gentle smile forms on his face beneath dark circles, as if he hasn’t slept properly.

He embodies the portrait of a truly haggard man. His mixed black and brown hair has grown long enough to reach his cheeks, seemingly uncut for some time, and his beard is unkempt and dirty. He looks like a vagrant, but there’s life in his gray eyes as they gaze at the Hexenbane—a look filled with overwhelming emotion.

While his attention is fixed on the sword, Paulina charges forward with her shield. The detective hadn’t tried to face such a mythril-steel shield with his bare fists, and this man who gives off a similar aura likely wouldn’t either.

Paulina’s well-trained body gains sufficient momentum to ram into the man, but confirming my ominous feeling, he blocks her charge.

He grabs the edge of the shield and twists Paulina’s trajectory, pushing her away.

This time, Paulina doesn’t just take it. She holds her arm at an angle and aims the corner of her shield at the sword thief’s neck. And he catches it.

That’s the extent of his strength. He merely caught the attack as it came, grabbing the shield corner with one hand despite it being swung with all the might of a half-ogre.

Though he’s pushed back by the difference in weight class, the sword thief clearly has superior strength to Paulina. How is this possible? For a human who’s smaller and lighter to have such abnormal strength is unnatural.

Still, this momentary pause gives me a chance to raise my camera. I gather mana at my fingertips… focus on the circuit and take the picture. At this distance, with proper focus, it should be clearer than the detective’s photo.

The sword thief, still holding the shield, asks Paulina. His expression suggests he needs to confirm something.

“Have you been baptized in the blood of the lamb? Have you been cleansed?”

Paulina looks at him with a slightly trembling gaze, as if his words make no sense. Despite using all her strength, the shield only wobbles slightly back and forth without moving.

“What do you mean?”

The vagrant-looking sword thief sighs. He adds his other hand to the shield he’d been holding with just one, and pushes Paulina away, shaking her off.

“I see you haven’t. Don’t interfere. I don’t intend to hurt anyone. I’ll return the Hexenbane. I’m just borrowing it, very briefly. I can swear to it. So, step aside. I’ll walk out through the front door.”

Of course, they wouldn’t let him. The museum security guards were gathering around to surround him, and Paulina, though wounded in pride, tightened the strap of her shield again.

I move behind them. I have no fighting ability, and I’ve already photographed the sword thief’s face, so my job is to get out of the way. With so many people here, surely they can subdue one person.

I approach the children and a woman who appears to be their school teacher, along with one security guard, all looking anxious without knowing what’s happening. I’ll do what I can.

“Emergency situation! The guards will probably subdue him, but please evacuate in an orderly—”

Suddenly, there’s a sound of something hitting metal. It’s a massive sound, like a bell being struck, causing everyone including the children and teacher to flinch. I can’t flinch too!

Though I’m not sure if my body is any sturdier than these children’s, I join the security guard in shielding the children with our backs. The children are trembling.

Quickly looking back, I see Paulina tightening her shield strap again, having surrounded the sword thief along with the security guards. The loud sound must have been his fist striking the shield.

What kind of person is he? What does he have in common with the detective? While glancing back and trying to escort the children out with the security guard and elementary school teacher, I hear the sound of feet pushing off the ground.

The sword thief is flying. No, not flying—he’s jumped more than a foot higher than Paulina’s head, escaping from the security guards and Paulina who had begun to surround him.

He doesn’t run toward the children. He doesn’t take hostages, but simply starts running. His running speed is closer to that of a horse than a person.

Since he’s fled on his own, it should be safe in here… I grab the security guard’s forearm and tell him:

“Please contact the police first! We’ll chase after him! Tell them to follow the 20-model ogre vehicle! Paulina, let’s go!”

There’s no time to be confused. We have to keep moving. If we keep moving until our legs are too tired to go on, we’ll find some kind of answer. That’s one thing I learned from dealing with that detective.

“Ah, y-yes. Understood.”

Soon Paulina runs over, grabs me by the waist, and carries me as she runs. It’s not the most dignified look, but Paulina’s principle is that carrying a small, weak elf is the fastest way to move.

We head straight to the parking lot and get in the car. The sword thief was already driving away in a car parked on the shoulder, and Paulina started driving after him with her lips tightly pressed together.

“For now, he doesn’t seem to have any intention of attacking us. Even when he struck the shield, he deliberately swung with a clenched fist, showing exactly what he was going to do. He seems to have been trying to demonstrate his strength.”

Was he really just trying to threaten us and nothing more? Wanting to find out why he stole the sword, I hold onto the camera with one hand and grip the car window tightly with the other, enduring Paulina’s rough driving.

Paulina’s driving skills were excellent, and while the sword thief had impressive physical abilities, his driving skills weren’t as good as Paulina’s.

The distance between us gradually closes until we’ve almost caught up, and now from my passenger seat, I can see his face.

My sensitive elven hearing could pick up his voice even beyond the engine noise and the sound of tires rolling on the ground.

“This is the last trench. This is the last trench… Once we cross this, the Great War ends. It really ends…”

I shout toward the car we’ve nearly caught up to. Is he a war veteran? Is he confused about something? I couldn’t understand, but somehow… I felt pity for that desperate expression.

“The Great War ended five and a half years ago! Snap out of it!”

The vagrant-looking sword thief glances to the side and briefly meets my eyes. For a moment, I could see his eyes fill with sadness, but soon he swerves the car into an alley.

We missed the turn, and by the time we followed him in, his car was already parked in front of an apartment building. Did he go in there? He couldn’t have been so obvious… I could hear footsteps echoing inside the apartment.

Now the sound of a door closing resonates deeply through the apartment corridor. Hurray for elven senses, and hurray again.

“He’s inside the apartment, Paulina! I think he just closed a door—is he planning to barricade himself inside?”

“That’s unlikely. I could break down these apartment doors with my shoulder. If I can do it, that man could too, so he wouldn’t hide in such a place!”

Paulina and I rush into the apartment building. Unlike my apartment, it was an ordinary building with seven… no, eight units on each floor. The elevator on the opposite wall from the doors was on the first floor.

The sword thief probably didn’t take the elevator. I focus on the surrounding sounds. Cigarette smoke was almost like poison gas, and noise could temporarily deafen an elf, but elven senses were useful at times like this.

“…O God-President!”

Something like a prayer was echoing. If it had been a quiet voice, I wouldn’t have been able to hear it, but he was shouting with all his might.

I trace the location by sound. Third floor. Which apartment it is would have to be confirmed by breaking the peephole and looking inside, though.

“Third floor, Paulina! I’ll check the right side of the elevator!”

“Yes, I’ll go all the way to the left. Let’s go.”

We quickly ran up the stairs to the third floor, and because his voice was echoing through the corridor, we began looking into each apartment one by one to find the sword thief’s location, unable to pinpoint it precisely.

I search. Paulina captures. I thought we could make a good team even if we weren’t journalists, but now I needed to focus more on the task.

I concentrate on the echoing voice. He was still crying out. Crying out from inside his small room.

“I know that Saint Peter will not call my name. But please save the one who is bound with me. If loving life is a sin, then I have committed a crime, but he is clean.”

The one bound with him? His voice was soaked in sorrow and regret. Why was he so sad? What did he regret so much?

I wanted to listen. Whatever story he wanted to tell, I wanted to listen instead of the God-President who knows everything but answers no one in order to be fair to all.

I pinpoint the location by his voice. It’s the first apartment from the middle of the corridor. No wonder the voice wasn’t clear—it was echoing. I raise my hand to call Paulina.

“Paulina! It’s this apartment! Hurry!”

After calling her, I put my face to the peephole in the door. I look inside. The peephole made it difficult to see clearly, but the lens in these cheap apartment doors comes out easily.

Paulina lightly struck the lens with her fist, cracking it, and I was able to scratch it out with my fingernail. I blow once over my fingernail to make sure no glass fragments remain, then look inside.

He was kneeling with his hands raised in prayer. The Hexenbane was unsheathed and placed right in front of his knees.

“Damn, he seems to have reinforced the inside of the door. Can you see anything, Rose?”

At Paulina’s words, I looked through the hole where the lens had been broken, but due to the small size of the hole, I couldn’t see the front of the door. I shake my head.

“The angle’s no good! But I can see what that person is doing. He seems to be praying! I don’t think he’s dangerous…”

“I’ll try to force it open, so wait a moment! Keep watching inside.”

Despite Paulina throwing herself with all her might from the opposite end of the corridor, the door remained blocked by something and wouldn’t open. I look inside again. Now I can see his expression clearly.

“Let the Hexenbane, inscribed with Your word, tear away the curse… Today, quell my sinful desire for life that even two bottles of whiskey could not suppress…”

His face was trembling with deep fear. Thick tears were flowing from eyes that looked like shadows cast by his long beard and hair.

I hoped his words about suppressing his sinful desire for life didn’t mean what I thought they meant. Surely, witnessing someone else die before my eyes would be sad. Certainly.

But the fear didn’t last long. Soon his expression changed from fear to hope. His face became filled with anticipation, like someone yearning for freedom and expecting the shackles on their ankles to be unlocked.

“Finally, give strength to my hands. Give me the power to break this spell!”

He picks up the Hexenbane that was placed on the floor. The inscription on its flat blade—”Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live”—was glowing white.

His regretful expression gains determination. With a look that seemed to want to proclaim that one can choose one’s own fate, he grips the sword’s handle with one hand and holds the base of the blade with the other.

The sword thief points the tip at his chest. He aims it at where his heart would be. I knock on the door and shout. This was all I could do.

“I’ll listen to you! Whatever it is, there must be a better way than this! So, please wait!”

My voice shouting through the peephole hole seems to catch his attention as he briefly looks in my direction. I quickly put my eye back to the hole and our eyes meet.

He gently shakes his head as if there is no other way. It’s not resignation or surrender. His expression conveys firm resolve that this is the only way.

Nevertheless, he briefly gives me an eye-smile with eyes no longer shadowed, appreciating my desperate shouting for his sake, before bringing the Hexenbane back to his chest.

The sword thief opens his mouth one last time, with a truly human expression mixing regret, fear, elation, and dignity.

“Hexenbane, fulfill your purpose. Break the spell…”

His promise to return the sword soon was absolutely true. His promise not to hurt others was also the unvarnished truth. He pierced his own heart with the Hexenbane.

But something was strange. The Hexenbane, said to be able to break any spell or magic easily, was trembling as it was stuck in his heart. The blade turned red and made an unstable rattling sound.

It didn’t last long. Soon the ominous aura surrounding him disappeared, and he collapsed face-down on the floor.

The Hexenbane seemed to have spent its power too. The part that had stabbed him rusted, and when he fell, the sword completely shattered.

What kind of spell was cast on him? Normally, even in the worst case, a spell carved into skin could be treated by cutting away the skin. There shouldn’t have been a need to stab himself like that.

And if it could cut through all spells and magic, it shouldn’t break after eliminating just one thing.

It seemed I needed to investigate more, not just write an article about a sword thief.

Golden-winged angels who seemed to have followed us fly up to this noisy location. A police officer with light emanating from behind his head approaches the door where we stand.

“Inspector Semangelof from the New York Police Department. So, you reported chasing a sword thief who stole a sword from the National Museum…”

“Yes, he’s inside… but he took his own life with the sword. I don’t understand what happened…”

Inspector Semangelof was a massive golden-haired angel who made even Paulina look small. Like most angels, he had beautifully curly golden hair tied back, and he made Paulina move away from the door.

With a height of easily 8 feet and forearms thicker than my waist, he had hands crafted of gold… he reached out and tore the door off its hinges. This was the power of angels.

In front of the torn door was a large cabinet tilted to block the entrance. The cabinet, which had been blocking the door at a perfect angle, now collapsed without support.

After a loud thud that shook the floor, metal and cloth fragments spilled out from inside. They were medals cut in half, rank insignia cut in half, and what appeared to be unit emblems cut in half.

Everything was kept in two drawers, precisely cut in half. As if they belonged to two people.

Inspector Semangelof picks up a unit emblem from the floor. He clicks his tongue as if recognizing it immediately.

“He’s from the Argonne Invincibles. Why would a war hero… Anyway, the police will handle this from here. Please leave your name and contact information with another officer, and we’ll contact you.”

The Argonne Invincibles… “The Argonne Invincibles are rushing to grab the Kaiser by the collar and bring him to court.” Even someone like me who knows little about the military knew their name from propaganda songs.

For now, I should start by investigating the Argonne Invincibles. Taking one last look inside the door, I bowed my head in respect to the Argonne Invincible soldier lying face-down on the floor with a peaceful expression, then turned away.