Chapter 51: Salvation Church

“…But, how could this be!”

“Isn’t that Deon Hart’s choice? He must have had his reasons for making that decision. Even if something goes wrong because of it, he’ll be the one to bear the responsibility.”

A listless voice, as if the matter was of no concern to him, drifted down. Nemesius was left speechless, unable to respond for a moment.

It couldn’t possibly be irrelevant. If a sword is damaged, the repercussions are bound to affect the wielder as well.

Knowing that the Emperor couldn’t possibly be unaware of this, Nemesius still couldn’t comprehend it. With great effort, he forced his reluctant lips to part.

“…Your Majesty might have to share that responsibility.”

“I don’t mind at all. Isn’t that the nature of an emperor?”

“…”

“Just kidding. Your expression was priceless.”

The Emperor chuckled softly, the sound resonating pleasantly in his throat like a suppressed laugh.

For a self-proclaimed tyrant to speak like the epitome of a wise ruler was absurd, but to show such an obvious reaction.

Thinking he needed to train Nemesius to better hide his emotions, the Emperor slowly offered his response.

There was no grand reason.

It was a simple matter.

“I am not so incompetent that I cannot overlook a mistake made by someone I value.”

“…”

“Is that answer enough for you, General?”

He might not be a benevolent ruler capable of forgiving everyone’s mistakes, but he could certainly be one for those he held dear.

Pouring the generosity, money, time, and power that should be distributed fairly among all the useless underlings onto a select few.

Emperor Eudoard possessed the power and ability to do so, and no one dared to object.

Therefore, barring something as significant as treason, most incidents could be managed.

“If the mistake is beyond my ability to cover up, then it will simply mean I misjudged him.”

Even so, nothing would change. It would just add to the list of things he had to take responsibility for.

Besides, the possibility of such an event occurring was extremely low.

“I wouldn’t keep a dangerous individual by my side without good reason.”

“Then…”

“He has a leash.”

Cruel Hart.

The Emperor smiled languidly, thinking of Deon Hart’s brother.

[He even volunteered to become the companion of the Hero, someone who could ruin his family. Why…]

The conversation with Deon Hart, who had burst into the banquet hall covered in blood after returning from the Demon Realm, became chaotic the moment Cruel Hart was mentioned.

Perhaps his emotions were still raw from the recent news of Cruel becoming a hero.

As if his pent-up emotions were exploding, the direction of his words shifted, and his voice rose.

His voice, which had been steadily climbing as if about to erupt, abruptly subsided the moment his eyes met the Emperor’s.

He had belatedly realized who was sitting before him.

The Emperor didn’t bother to point out his impudence.

He knew how extreme Deon Hart’s feelings towards his family were, and how advantageous that was to him.

Hatred, murderous intent, rage.

In his eyes, they were the ones who had pushed a frail child of just fourteen onto the battlefield.

After eight years of struggling on the battlefield, Deon’s hatred for his family had grown like a snowball. When he finally stood before the Emperor, recognized for his achievements in the war, he refused all rewards and asked for only one thing.

[Please allow me to destroy my family with my own hands.]

There was no reason to refuse.

The Hart Count family had been loyal to the royal family for generations, but that wasn’t a significant advantage for him, who had ascended the throne through a coup. In other words, there was no reason to protect them.

The unreliable Hart Count family versus Deon Hart as an individual, who could potentially become an excellent sword.

[Very well.]

Without hesitation, the Emperor sided with the individual.

Of course, he didn’t agree immediately. It would be even better if he could resolve another matter at the same time, and if he was going to use him as a sword, it would be better to forge him more thoroughly.

[However, I have some doubts as to whether you are worth abandoning an entire ‘family’ and choosing the ‘individual’ that is you.]

[…What must I do?]

[It just so happens that the Hero is preparing to leave the Empire to face the Demon King.]

To accompany the Hero as a comrade and confront the Demon King.

It was a bit unsettling that the Duke had suggested it, but it was an excellent way to temper the sword that was Deon Hart.

The results were outstanding.

He had even recovered the body of the defeated Hero. With that, even those who had opposed him for not possessing the ‘Fragments of the Hero’ would have no choice but to acknowledge him as a ‘hero’.

From the Emperor’s perspective, he deserved even more rewards.

However.

Contrary to the Emperor’s desire for Deon Hart to not break, he insisted on the same terms as when he started, instead of money, land, or titles.

[Tonight, the area around the Hart Count Estate will be very quiet. What are your thoughts?]

[…Thank you for your consideration, Your Majesty.]

Since a promise was a promise, the Emperor readily granted his request.

Once the decision was made, there was no use in hesitation. That night, the Emperor secretly prevented anyone unrelated from approaching the Hart Count Estate, and Deon Hart killed everyone inside the mansion without interference.

The only unexpected thing was that Cruel Hart wasn’t at the mansion that day. What’s more, he returned just as Deon Hart was carrying out his task.

If he had been at the mansion from the beginning, or had returned the next morning after everything was over, the story might have been different.

But as fate would have it, Cruel Hart witnessed Deon Hart murdering their family with his own eyes and survived.

It was a bit different from what he had expected, but it ultimately became a useful card to control Deon Hart.

The Hart family annihilation had already drawn significant attention, and if Cruel Hart, one of the few survivors of that family, were also to be killed, the repercussions would be considerable. How many people could prevent that?

In the end, to kill Cruel Hart, one could not afford to be at odds with the Emperor.

‘Duke Illuster likely keeps Cruel Hart by his side for similar reasons.’

For Cruel Hart, Deon Hart was his leash.

Each holding the other’s leash – what could be more comical?

Suppressing the complicated sigh that threatened to escape, the Emperor waved his hand.

“Therefore, let’s not discuss Deon Hart any further.”

***

Wow, what’s with all these extravagantly gaudy things in the yard? Is this some new kind of installation art? What if someone steals them?

Or is it just showing off? ‘Look how much money I have!’ Whose house is this? I’m jealous.

…Whose house? It’s my house!

“What the heck is that?!”

I didn’t buy any of that!

Could the knights have caused trouble again? I need to deal with those guys immediately.

With the thought of rushing out as soon as he figured out the cause, he slammed his hand on the desk and stood up.

A few papers fluttered to the ground, but he couldn’t pay attention to them right now. The sight outside the window was too impactful.

Things were sparkling and forming a small hill in his yard. How could a few sheets of paper matter now?

Even as he stood there half-dazed, a calm old man’s voice leisurely entered his ears.

“These are the rewards His Majesty bestowed upon you for capturing the operative.”

“I don’t need them, no, I mean, this is too much. Send them back immediately!”

“If you do that, I fear your soul might also return to where it came from, Master. With all due respect, this old one must object.”

“……”

No matter what he said, the butler always had a way…

Thanks to him, his mind snapped back. Right, if someone gave you a gift and you refused it, how would they feel? Especially a tyrant. He could do anything. Just shut up and accept it.

‘…If he was going to give a reward, he should have given back the Hart territory instead of this junk.’

Perhaps the reason the Emperor hadn’t mentioned the reward for capturing the operative during their conversation was because he had anticipated this very thought. Damn it, for a tyrant, he’s too smart.

Feeling his throat parched from the anger, he picked up the teacup on his desk.

‘The aroma is nice, though.’

But he couldn’t drink more than a few sips before putting it back down. For some reason, the scent made him feel like he needed to go to the bathroom.

It was the same tea he had during tea time with the Crown Prince and Princess. The Crown Prince had given it to him before he left the palace.

He couldn’t bring himself to throw away the Crown Prince’s gift, so he had carelessly tossed it onto the table in his room when he got home. Butler Rememver had found it and had been serving it with snacks from time to time ever since.

That wasn’t the only thing Rememver brought.

Knock, knock. A cautious knock sounded. Rememver opened the door, took something, and approached, placing it on the desk.

On the tray was a bowl of herbal medicine that looked quite bitter.

“It’s time for your medicine.”

“…Do I really have to drink that?”

“It was sent by the Imperial Court Physician himself. It can only be good for you, not bad. Please drink it. I’ve already had it checked for poison.”

It wasn’t just an empty promise. The court physician had actually sent restorative medicine to the Count’s Estate. And not just for a week or two, but enough for almost a month.

His heart was grateful, but he hated bitter things…

Of course, his refusal had no effect on Rememver.

He offered the herbal medicine with a gentle smile. His actions were polite, but was the underlying pressure just his imagination?

“I’m full right now.”

He had drunk too much tea and felt bloated.

“Please drink it anyway.”

“……”

The herbal medicine was incredibly bitter.

As he grimaced, a piece of candy was slipped into his mouth. Surprised, he looked up and met the gently smiling silver-blue eyes of his butler.

…This butler, seriously. I’m not a child.

‘Still, the candy is good. Is it strawberry flavored?’

Rolling the candy around in his mouth, he looked back out the window. Seeing the things piled up and shining in the yard made his head hurt.

Those were the biggest problem. How should he deal with them?

He tapped the desk with his finger, then blankly opened his mouth.

“Rememver.”

“Yes, Count.”

“I’ll leave half of those things to you. Use them for the estate’s expenses. Keep the other half in savings.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Oh, and set aside some separately. I have a use for it.”

“Yes, how much would you need?”

“Enough to gather information without being short.”

He pulled the cord to summon a maid.

“Bring Sir Lien here.”

In short, the money set aside went to Sir Lien, the leader of their Killer Knights and the only sane one among them.

The purpose was none other than to investigate the ‘Salvation Church’.

Like the diligent knight she was, she returned a few days later with two bundles of documents: one detailing how much money was spent, where it was spent, and how it was spent, and the other containing the information she had gathered.

And now, like this.

“The Salvation Church is a new religious group expanding its influence, primarily in the slums. They are gathering followers by distributing bread and water.”

She was dutifully reporting the information she had gathered in front of him.

“Unlike typical pseudo-religions, they don’t ask people to believe in a ‘founder’ or donate ‘money’. They simply preach about ‘salvation’…”

“‘Salvation’… That’s too abstract…”