Chapter 133

Even though they were all from the Confederation of Five Nations, it was unthinkable that Hunter would cover Nightwing’s actions. A fleeting hope that there might still be some gain showed on Victor’s face, which quickly turned to doubt. He scrutinized the gagged prisoners carefully to prevent any chance of suicide, frowning at the dismal scene.

“It is strange, no matter how I look at it. According to the information we confirmed, they are clearly personnel selected to transport the ‘cargo.’ The goods are definitely moving, yet the traces of the people who actually require the cargo cannot be found.”

“Just to be sure, is there any chance we misinterpreted the cipher?”

Hunter cautiously offered his opinion, peering to gauge the reaction. But Victor shook his head, dismissing the possibility.

“We did not entirely dismiss that point, but the ledger we recently obtained from them confirmed the existence of the ‘cargo.’ Some entries on that list matched exactly with the contents of the cipher we had decoded.”

The list they possessed was accurate. Multiple cross-verified pieces of information proved it. However, from Victor’s perspective, this only made matters more frustrating. There was definite evidence of the cargo, but the people seeking it remained entirely invisible.

“But what this confirms is only the existence of the ‘cargo.’ It does not serve as proof that it is supplies.”

Eugène said calmly, tossing Thierry at their feet. Immersed in their conversation, the two had not noticed his approach and flinched, turning to look at him.

“…What do you mean by that?”

Both sets of eyes turned toward Eugène. Victor spoke first. He pondered Eugène’s words, repeating them in his mind before cautiously asking his question.

“Pluralitas non est ponenda sine neccesitate. As the old maxim goes, ‘Plurality is not to be posited without necessity.’”

“Are you referring toAndelas’ razor?”

“Yes.”

The thousands of personnel they had been seeking were a product of ‘reasonable deduction’ derived from a few pieces of evidence. But in truth, a deduction is merely a logical theory built upon repeated accumulations of circumstantial evidence. Initially, Eugène had agreed with Victor’s inference, but after so long without confirming their existence, his thoughts had changed.

Their estimate of the enemy’s numbers relied purely on the amount listed in the manifest, which they assumed to be ‘supplies.’ However, by this point, Eugène was beginning to harbor doubts that perhaps they were chasing an illusion, a force that did not even exist. Otherwise, how could so many personnel vanish so completely without a trace?

Hearing Eugène’s words, Victor’s gaze darkened. There was logic to his observation. But to challenge existing assumptions so fundamentally, even if valid, was not something a field operative like Victor could casually endorse without clear evidence.

“Of course, I am not making this claim without basis, relying solely on speculation. Just now, I, albeit inadvertently, obtained some information concerning the ‘monastery.’”

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“There is a limit to the number of monasteries both inside and outside the territory. Even after checking so many, their absence suggests, conversely, that their numbers may not be as high as expected. Of course, this remains speculation, but fortunately, this time we have a lead to follow.”

Eugène continued as he glanced across the bound prisoners calmly.

“…So was it you who caused the disaster in the kitchen, Baron?”

“Pardon?”

“No, I mean… is that story true?”

Victor looked to Hunter, who had accompanied Eugène, seeking confirmation. Indeed, he remembered hearing something similar, but the constant threat to his life had wiped the memory completely. Only upon hearing Eugène’s account did Hunter recall the gamblers’ conversation and nod in confirmation. The grim situation seemed to brighten slightly on Victor’s face.

“Thank you for the information. This should finally help us untangle the dead end we were at.”

Victor, realizing he had perhaps neglected formalities, added a slightly embarrassed smile and addressed Eugène.

“It has been a while, Baron Amieux.”

“Indeed. Somehow, it seems we always meet in the most unexpected places.”

As they conversed, Hunter’s gaze fixed on Eugène grew sharper and sharper, practically dagger-like.He must have done it? He really left me behind?! And not a single word of apology?

Eugène knew that Hunter’s eyes burned with resentment at being left alone in the heart of enemy territory, yet he ignored him and continued his conversation with Victor. After all, Hunter had been dragged here in the first place because he had tried to deceive Eugène. This was precisely the kind of situation where the saying“you reap what you sow”applied.

Victor seemed quite shocked to see the man who was both the Emperor’s vassal and his lover, covered in blood and dressed in a gruesome manner. But he soon smiled gently and called over his subordinates. Two of them approached, supporting Thierry, who lay sprawled on the floor like a hunted wild boar. They held him on either side as if restraining him, awaiting Victor’s command.

“His- He is on this floor.”

Eugène said, almost slipping into calling him ‘His Majesty’ before remembering Hunter’s presence and correcting himself naturally. Victor nodded calmly in response.

“Yes, that is correct. Sir Jersen instructed me to wait here and to come up with you once you enter, Baron.”

“Surely, I am not exempt from that order, am I? As you can see, I endured the same dangers and hardships. It would be unfair to treat me differently in that way.”

However, Hunter was not so dull as to miss who “Sir Jersen” really was, even if he was not named outright. Just in time, while scheming about how to repay Eugène in some small way, his instincts sent a sharp warning, and his ears perked up. He quickly stepped between the two of them. Victor, still calm, nodded lightly in acknowledgment.

“He also takes an interest in the Baron’s companion. Naturally, he called for you as well, so there is no need to worry.”

Hearing this, Hunter’s expression shifted subtly.…Hmm? Something about this feels off.His instincts, honed over years at the bottom rungs of society, sent a strong warning. But having already acknowledged that the Emperor had called for them, there was no turning back now. In the end, the three of them stood side by side before the Emperor.

The Emperor remained in Thierry Kiatek’s room. He perched on the edge of his desk, casually rifling through papers scattered atop it, and greeted them.

“You are late.”

“… My apologies, Sir Jersen.”

Eugène said, almost forgetting to speak upon realizing that the Emperor’s face was fully visible. Hunter was even more startled. Seeing him up close for the first time, he bowed with Eugène and cursed under his breath in astonishment.

Bloody hell. This is the first time in my life my heart’s ever skipped a beat from looking at another man’s face.

Even when more than half of the face had been hidden, he had already had a rough idea. But seeing the real deal in full made even that seem laughably inadequate. Even the famed portrait, for all its praise, now felt lacking compared to the original.

Perhaps that was precisely why Hunter was even more baffled. How could a man that beautiful, one in a century, at least, end up entangled with someone like Eugène? If he had that appearance and that status, he would never waste his life like that. Forget Eugène, he would have lured a diverse array of attractive ladies into his bed every night, indulging in every kind of pleasure humanly possible.

Naturally, Ebroin V had no interest in whatever delusions were running through Hunter’s head. His gaze was fixed not on Eugène, but on the blood-soaked man he had brought with him. After studying the man with a cool, detached expression, the Emperor spoke.

“What was it?”

“What do you mean?”

“The thing he was holding. I could tell he was trying to pull something on you, but it was dark, and he was too far away for me to see clearly.”

Even with such a limited field of vision, Ebroin V’s marksmanship was truly no ordinary skill, as he was able to accurately hit the target. Only then did Eugène realize what the Emperor meant. He reached into his coat and drew out the object wrapped in a handkerchief.

“This was it.”

Eugène had picked it up at the Emperor’s signal, though he still did not know exactly what the object was. Ebroin V examined the ornamented pin lying atop the coarse linen handkerchief, its surface smeared with blood and bits of flesh, before lifting it between his fingers.

“There is no need for you to touch it directly… You will soil your hands.”

Eugène did not wish for the Emperor’s hand to be stained with blood. When he instinctively reached out to dissuade him, the Emperor raised an eyebrow and dodged. He then took the handkerchief from Eugène’s hand and wiped the filth from his fingers and pin, offering a dry rebuke.

“You seem to lack caution more than I expected. One should not handle an unknown object so carelessly.”

It was, in truth, exactly what Eugène had wanted to say to the Emperor. But as an outsider, and with the eyes of the Anti-Chevaliers upon him, there was little he could say. He could only step back and watch as the Emperor continued.

Once the unsightly bloodstains had been wiped away, the pin finally revealed its true form. It was a fine gentleman’s lapel pin, set with a deep blue sapphire reminiscent of the Baleum Sea, encircled by delicate gold filigree in the shape of intertwining grapevines. The craftsmanship was not of a modern style, yet its antique air lent it an elegance all its own.

The Emperor studied the now-cleaned pin in deep thought, then spoke to the prisoner in an almost absent tone.

“Are you ‘Thierry Kiatek’?”

The man, forced to his knees despite the bleeding wound in his calf, swallowed a groan of pain and lifted his head. His eyes flickered faintly, as though dizzy, moving between the Emperor, perched casually on the edge of the desk, and the others standing nearby. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled.

“No, I am not. You have mistaken me for someone else.”

“Of course, that is not your real name. ‘Thierry the Shoemaker’ and ‘Kiatek the Dwarf,’ was it? What parent would give a child such a name?”

Common as the name was, every citizen of the Estina Empire would think first of ‘Thierry the Shoemaker’ upon hearing it. The hero of a well-known folktale. He was the man who, after hearing his neighbor’s jest that she would wear shoes with heels of unicorn horn, leather of dragon hide, and toes inlaid with mermaid scales on her wedding day, set out to hunt a dragon for real, all to win her hand.