Ch.4747. Mission

The pursuit squad I led finally stopped its frenzied chase when we reached the milestone just before the Imperial Capital.

It was nearly midnight. Too late for a victory parade, it seemed.

“…If we’d arrived a bit earlier, we might have been stoned too.”

This mumbled comment came from Garland, my senior in the Royal Order who had performed the amputation of the Hero’s wrist. His face looked half-dead.

A man who’d lived as a top-tier expert for over a decade wouldn’t actually worry about mere stone-throwing—he was probably concerned about a potential riot. Considering what happened when Matthias left the palace, his worry wasn’t unreasonable.

“Senior. I’m sorry, but there won’t be a riot. For things to reach that point, commoners would need to get involved, and nobles and commoners have different sensibilities.”

“Hmm, even so.”

“Of course, everyone knows the Hero committed crimes and fled before being pursued. The commoners in the Imperial Capital are relatively well-informed. But few commoners truly understand how serious his atrocities were.”

“…?”

My senior tilted his head in disbelief. He was probably thinking: how could people not despise such an evil bastard?

But the commoners’ trust in the Hero was beyond imagination. After all, they had almost nothing else to be enthusiastic about except the Hero and his party’s exploits. Many even considered criticism of the Hero as blasphemy against the Godess.

“Inertia is a frightening thing. Even in the Imperial Capital, it’s not much different.”

“…If that’s true, at least we don’t have to worry about immediate chaos.”

I wasn’t sure if that was really fortunate. That hollow faith was actually making the Imperial Capital sick.

A moment later, I spotted the guards waiting near the milestone.

I handed over the Hero’s harem members to them, still bound as they were.

“Take the Hero’s women separately. Keep them in temporary detention.”

“You mean separate them from the Hero?”

“Yes.”

The three women in the Hero’s harem looked at me with peculiar expressions. They seemed curious about why I was ordering them to be moved separately.

Of course, I wasn’t doing this to protect them.

I was simply removing them because their condition was seriously concerning. The mage Yuni was biting her nails until they bled, showing signs of anxiety. The female knight Millia Neize was mumbling something with tears in her eyes. The elf Silvina maintained a straight posture, but her eyes were clouded as well.

There was no need to include them in the event prepared for the Hero. A different kind of hell awaited them anyway.

“If they stay with the Hero, at least one or two will definitely commit suicide. If they bite their tongues, it’ll be more trouble for us.”

“Yes, Lord Ordellon. We’ll do as you say. Where should we confine them?”

“Inside the palace. Keep them separated and guard them thoroughly.”

“Understood.”

The guards took the three bound women away.

Now only the Hero remained as a prisoner.

Was he disappointed to see his harem leave? Or had he overheard what I said while giving instructions to the guards?

The Hero was watching me cautiously in an awkward posture, clutching his roughly bandaged right forearm with his other hand.

“Move, Hero. You have work to do.”

“E-Erick. This isn’t what you…”

Promised.

The Hero pleaded with slurred pronunciation. Still afraid of being beaten (my senior was already tapping his scabbard), he maintained a defensive posture but stubbornly refused to move until I answered him.

“What exactly did I promise?”

“That.”

The Hero gestured awkwardly toward the mages with his eyes and chin. Only then did I recall what promise he meant.

“You mean your hand.”

“You clearly said… if I behaved… you’d reattach it.”

Expecting his wrist to be reattached even in this situation. I could have scolded him for failing to read the room, but I decided to grant his wish.

Just not in the way he wanted. The high priests and bishops with their powerful divine powers had already left the pursuit squad long ago.

Moreover, the Hero’s wrist was in no condition for reattachment.

The mages then produced the hand.

“Here it is, Hero.”

The Hero’s hand had already shriveled and twisted. Magic had prevented decay, but through desiccation rather than preservation.

Seeing his right hand transformed into something like a relic, the Hero widened his eyes in disbelief. It looked like his eyeballs might pop out.

“…!”

Regardless of his reaction, I tied the hand with a string and hung it around his neck.

I expected him to struggle and ask what I was doing, but he seemed completely frozen, accepting the horrific accessory without resistance. Still, he wasn’t entirely unaffected—his face swelled as if about to burst, and his limbs began to tremble.

“Hero.”

“…Hic.”

Perhaps the reality of his situation finally dawned on him. He sobbed with a phlegmy sound before collapsing to the ground.

Having broken down this much, he wouldn’t move voluntarily no matter how much we beat him. But I had no intention of giving him false hope.

“Katie. Drag the Hero along.”

“Yes.”

Katie connected a rope to the Hero’s restraints and pulled it forward while mounted on her horse. With a neigh, the horse moved forward in a slow walk, forcing the Hero to stumble to his feet.

The Hero’s pace was slow.

It grew even slower as we approached the Imperial Capital. It was as if weights were attached to his feet—he took several deep breaths with each step, and even tried to walk backward at one point, nearly falling when the horse pulled him forward.

I didn’t rush him.

I knew that this time of dragging his feet painfully forward was more torturous to the Hero than any actual torture.

I began to murmur quietly to the back of the Hero’s head, which was covered with dried blood.

“…Hero. I hear all the clergy of the Papal State are gathering at the Grand Cathedral. The cathedral is filled to capacity with people lined up outside. Cardinals, bishops, priests, nuns, holy knights. Even believers who wish to attend.”

The Hero didn’t answer.

“They say they’ll hold a grand mass, skipping meals until the Godess takes back the blessing bestowed upon you. The concept of a grand mass didn’t even exist in the Papal State before. It’s essentially the entire nation appealing to the Godess.”

Still no answer.

“Can you imagine it? From elderly cardinals to novice priests with soft down, all praying to the Godess with a single purpose.”

Was it my imagination? The Hero’s breathing seemed to be getting faster.

“Honestly, I don’t know if the Godess will respond. It might end with dozens of clergy collapsing for nothing. The Godess might even be angered, thinking her creations are trying to intimidate her. Anyway, the Empire has decided to respect the Papal State’s final effort.”

If the Godess miraculously responded?

We could dispose of the Hero with peace of mind. It would also help shatter the illusions of common investors who jumped into the Cordana market without knowing anything.

Of course, the Hero losing his qualification wouldn’t erase the hell he had created.

Cordana was far more frightening than a Hero who lost to me one-on-one. At least we could fight the Demon Lord’s army, but Cordana made that impossible. The extent of the damage was difficult to gauge right now.

“There’s something you need to do to reduce that impact, even if just a little.”

“Wh-what is it…?”

The Hero asked while struggling to walk as the horse pulled him along.

I didn’t know why he suddenly switched to formal speech, but I didn’t bother answering. He would find out soon enough.

Soon after, we entered the Imperial Capital with its damp air.

This massive city housed more people than the entire population of the Papal State—the core stronghold of humanity where all the continent’s wealth and talent gathered.

Due to the late hour, there weren’t many people around. Only patrolling guards and undertakers transporting today’s dead bodies to burial grounds outside the Imperial Capital were visible.

At least ten thousand people should have been out to welcome the Hero, humanity’s guardian, but there was no need to be disappointed by the empty main street.

The place where he would perform his duty was elsewhere.

The Cordana Exchange.

“…Huh?”

The Hero made a stupid sound when we arrived at the exchange after walking for so long.

In front of the exchange stood a hexagonal iron cage. It was just big enough for one person to lie down with outstretched legs. The bars were spaced relatively wide apart.

It was used to transport serious criminals to labor camps. Naturally, I had asked the court administration to prepare it.

“Get in, Hero.”

Here, the Hero would perform his final duty.

***

Dawn of the next day.

Before sunrise, people gradually began to appear near the exchange.

In such a massive city, many started their day earlier than others. These were laborers transporting goods before daybreak.

But even the hurrying laborers couldn’t ignore the strange scene unfolding in front of the exchange.

An iron cage rarely seen in the middle of the Imperial Capital contained a man with restricted movement due to restraints.

His body was covered in wounds, and one hand had been cut off—a miserable sight.

Though his anxious glances around clearly marked him as a criminal, strangely, he held a potion bottle in his only remaining hand.

“Tsk. What an ugly sight.”

Some people clicked their tongues and passed by, but,

“Wait. Is that person…?”

Others approached, suspicious of the man’s identity due to his distinctive appearance.

It didn’t take long for the first person to recognize him.

“Isn’t that the Hero?”

Five hours before the exchange opened, the Hero’s duty began.

At the same time, the Imperial Palace began mobilizing all power institutions by imperial decree to prepare for the calamity that would befall the Imperial Capital today.