Chapter 63 : Chapter 63

Chapter 063: The Sword Fiend is Coming (2)

As soon as I passed through the city gate, a bustling market unfolded before me.

Children darted across the street in droves, each clutching a blunt wooden stick carved into the shape of a sword.

“Is it about the Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats?”

Armed soldiers were stationed here and there along the street.

Other than that, I took in the ordinary village scenery while asking.

“Yeah, that’s right. Those sneaky beggar bastards.”

“But entrusting them with that cargo? That’s like handing fish to a cat.”

“Heh, you don’t know the half of it.”

From far off, the children’s shouts echoed back.

The Sword Fiend is coming—

Bolero continued.

“Most folks think the Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats are just an organized band of beggars. Wrong. That’s a very narrow view.”

“I know they act as an information network. Spreading rumors to subtly shape public opinion in the territories.”

“Ho, you’re well-informed? But there’s more to it than that.”

Even as he spoke, Bolero skillfully led the way.

He seemed familiar with the route.

“The Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats are scattered across the entire Kingdom. Groups ranging from five to over twenty members have bases in every territory and village. They’re all tightly knit, like a network of cells. With a structure like that, doesn’t a certain business come to mind?”

“No way…”

“Your ‘no way’ is spot on. Those guys even handle transporting money or valuables in secret. Of course, only for their select, trusted clients. They don’t take just anyone.”

Not just an information network but a money vault as well.

“Now I see. They’re cunning merchants disguised as beggars.”

“Haha, it’s not quite that simple. There’s even talk they’ve got imperial backing. Word is, they’re safeguarding the imperial treasury.”

“…That’s absurd. Probably just a tall tale they cooked up and spread themselves.”

“Of course, no one takes it seriously. But think about it. The scandals they’ve exposed about nobles are now circulating among serfs as jokes. Almost every noble is out for their blood, yet those guys are still thriving. Why do you think that is? Point is, you can’t just see them as money-grubbing beggars. They’re more like… an invisible shadow force, if you will.”

Bolero’s lips twitched.

He seemed like the type to get carried away with baseless superstitions or ghost stories.

I let out a snort and turned my gaze away.

Right in front of me, hanging from the scabbard, was a red tassel tightly wound around it.

Before stepping into the Spatial Transfer Gate, Ramba had tied it on himself.

—It should never come to this, but… if, by some chance, something happens to you, my lord… this will surely help.

…Hmph.

What ultimate path of austere joy?

* * *

We ventured deep into the residential area.

The scenery resembled the back alleys of a bustling city.

The soldiers that had been visible throughout the streets were now nowhere to be seen.

“The mountain gate must deal with everything from demonic beasts to bandits, so the defenses there are pretty tight. In comparison, the inner areas are more lax.”

Bolero spoke, as if sensing my thoughts.

There hadn’t been any signs of being followed on our way here, either.

“Here we are.”

I glanced around before turning my gaze, only to find a dead-end alley.

It wasn’t until a moment later that I noticed a beggar squatting in a corner.

His head was drooped low, like a corpse.

Bolero approached and placed a single copper coin between the beggar’s legs.

“Hey, take a customer.”

“Thank you, milord.”

Until then, the beggar didn’t even make eye contact, only nodding his head.

Bolero pulled out a thin cord from his pocket and dangled it gently in front of the beggar.

It was a yellow cord with three knots tied in it.

“Daytime words are heard by rats, and nighttime words are heard by rats too.”

“…”

Only then did the beggar lift his eyes, glancing at the cord.

It was as if he was responding to a code.

“Go on in.”

The beggar pulled aside a tattered cloth draped behind him.

I hadn’t even noticed it was there until now.

It was completely concealed by the piles of assorted junk scattered around.

“This is the hideout of Belmont’s Sewer Rats.”

I couldn’t help but click my tongue at the sight inside.

It was a veritable beggar’s slum.

They’d set up a full living space, complete with scavenged or begged furnishings, arranged with surprising care.

As we passed by groups of beggars chatting among themselves, I realized we’d gone quite deep into the place.

Bolero stopped in front of a spot where a thick tent was pitched.

A faint yellow light seeped out from beneath the tent.

Bolero lifted the flap.

A musty smell of dust hit me hard.

A small candle flickered, illuminating the cramped interior.

It felt like a very old bookstore.

“Hey, you’ve come.”

A voice came from within.

A middle-aged beggar poked his head out from between stacks of tattered books and bundles of parchment, piled up like a garbage heap.

“Been a while, Warren.”

“Indeed it has. Was it two years ago we last met? You look much healthier, if I may say.”

“What, you got a problem with that? Thought I’d died in a ditch somewhere?”

“No way. If someone of your caliber, Bolero, had actually kicked the bucket, I’d have heard about it ages ago.”

They exchanged pleasantries in a warm tone, but the subtext felt oddly unsettling.

Neither seemed to mind, though.

When Bolero set down the load he’d been carrying, a cloud of dust puffed up.

“Move this to Conwell. The gold and treasures inside should easily exceed two thousand gold in total. Take your cut as usual. You know, like we always do.”

“Ho, that’s massive. That’s probably more than Belmont’s entire yearly budget. Hmm, Bolero, I’m sorry, but this job might be a bit tricky.”

“What? The Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats refusing a client’s request? That’s a first. What, is the amount too big?”

“It’s not about the amount.”

Warren, who had been speaking with only his head visible, finally stepped out fully. He was a hunchback.

He toyed with a copper trinket poking out from the knot of the bundle, his eyes gleaming with an almost sinister, mechanical coldness.

“Conwell is in the midst of a civil war. Judging by how late you are with the news, you must’ve just come down from the mountains.”

His voice, which had been casual until now, pierced straight into my eardrums.

I could feel my pupils dilate.

The arms I’d been crossing instinctively loosened.

Pushing past Bolero, I asked urgently.

“Civil war? W-When did it start…? The Archduke and the Lady? What’s the situation?!”

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might leap out of my mouth as I spoke.

It was only when I saw the hunchback’s face that I realized I’d lost my composure for a moment.

Warren, who had been listening silently, spoke.

His expression was infuriatingly indifferent.

“…I let you sit in out of respect for Bolero. But even in a beggar’s den like this, ripples stir in the muck, milord.”

I nearly let the words clawing up my throat spill out, but a heavy pressure on my shoulder forced them back down.

It was Bolero.

He closed his eyes briefly, gave a subtle shake of his head, and spoke to Warren.

“I’ll cover it, Warren. I want to hear about Conwell’s situation.”

“Hmm. Given the circumstances, the price might be a bit…”

“Doesn’t matter. Take whatever you need from there.”

“Heh heh, that’s Bolero for you. Alright then.”

Warren shuffled over and plopped his rear onto a vertically stacked pile of books.

He didn’t even bother hiding his sly grin anymore.

“Lady Adeline once formed a punitive force to deal with the demonic corruption within the territory.”

“Wait, the Lady? She doesn’t have military authority.”

“Correct. It seems she secretly gathered mercenaries through her connections to form the force. It was an unofficial deployment.”

“…Huh.”

Warren raised his index finger.

“That was the first spark. Raising an army within the territory gave the Archduke Callence the pretext to brand her a rebel.”

“I knew Conwell’s succession struggle was fierce behind the scenes. But to call that a spark? It was for the territory’s sake, so doesn’t that give the Lady the moral high ground?”

“Who can fathom the ways of the highborn…?”

Warren extended his middle finger.

“The second spark: shortly after, the Duke of Conwell passed away suddenly, without leaving an official will.”

The designated heir was Adeline.

It was said only a formal proclamation remained.

In other words…

Until the Duke of Conwell spoke, Adeline’s succession wasn’t confirmed.

“Before I continue… there’s a rumor floating around about the Duke’s death. Would you like to hear it?”

High-value information, perhaps.

He seemed to be asking for agreement to an additional fee.

Bolero nodded.

“Go on.”

“Heh, understood. It’s widely believed the Duke was assassinated. The mastermind? None other than the Archduke Callence. Officially, of course, it’s said he succumbed to illness.”

Hearing such shocking news delivered so casually made my body stiffen.

Warren raised his ring finger.

“And the third spark: during the punitive campaign, Lady Adeline’s Sword Master, Eugene, fell in battle.”

“S-Sir Eugene…!”

“He perished in a fierce battle against a Blood Mage.”

Bolero let out a series of gasps.

His bulky frame visibly trembled.

Did he have a connection to Eugene too?

The news about the Blood Mage, whom he was pursuing on a covert mission, seemed to double the shock.

“…So, they lost the Blood Mage?”

“No. The Blood Mage was definitively destroyed. There were witnesses.”

Bolero’s eyes widened as if they might tear.

“W-What?! If even Sir Eugene failed, who in the world—?”

“The Sword Fiend.”

“…The Sword Fiend?”

“Who he is, or what his connection to Lady Adeline is, is completely unknown. They say he slew the Blood Mage and vanished without a trace.”

“You expect me to believe that? The Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats, who see the entire Kingdom in the palm of their hand, know nothing about the person who pulled off such a feat?”

…What’s this now, the Sword Fiend?

Another one of Ramba’s creations?

Back then, he was called something cringeworthy like the Empire’s Magic Sword or whatever.

“Take a look at this.”

As I scratched my chin, Warren suddenly thrust out a piece of parchment.

My eyes and Bolero’s locked onto it at the same time.

It depicted a fierce, rugged-looking man.

A wanted poster, it seemed.

Bolero furrowed his brow and muttered.

“Damn, he’s ugly as sin. Just looking at his face, you can tell his life hasn’t been smooth. Looks like the kind of guy doomed to a lonely existence. Who’s this? Don’t tell me he’s…”

“Yes. A portrait of the Sword Fiend. We don’t even have a proper description of his appearance. I pieced this together from the rumors floating around. Heh heh.”

I nearly grabbed Warren by the collar.

I also wanted to smack Bolero, who was nodding with a grave expression.

“Even we don’t know everything down to the last detail. Heh heh. But lately, a saying has been spreading from Conwell to here: ‘The Sword Fiend is coming.’ They say even crying children stop at the sound of it.”

I’d heard it on the way here.

The kids were shouting it while playing.

“This is just my opinion,” Warren said.

Bolero and I both turned to him.

“It seems like a ploy by Lady Adeline’s side. They’re deliberately hiding the identity of this skilled figure, the Sword Fiend, and instead spreading a ridiculous rumor to put psychological pressure on the Archduke Callence.”

“Why go to such lengths? More importantly, isn’t the Archduke too formidable to be shaken by mere rumors?”

“Lady Adeline lost her only significant asset, Sir Eugene, whose very existence kept the Archduke on edge. With her faction on the brink of collapse and no forces left to support her, this mysterious Sword Fiend, who destroyed the Blood Mage, becomes the only variable for the Archduke while buying the Lady time. Time to wait for a knight to extend a hand of salvation.”

Warren’s lips curled into a smirk.

“The Sword Fiend is coming— The Sword Fiend is coming— Heh heh heh…”

It makes sense.

If Adeline, Roland, and Ramba put their heads together, it’s exactly the kind of strategy they’d come up with.

‘She’s been pushed to the very edge, hasn’t she… Adeline.’

I don’t even know how much time has passed since that day.

What’s certain is that, in the meantime, the forces supporting Adeline haven’t grown.

Even the mercenaries who joined the punitive campaign aren’t guaranteed to stay.

I asked, “So, what’s the state of the war? Where’s the Lady now?”

Warren glanced at Bolero.

It seemed like the next part would cost extra.

Damn filthy beggar.

Just as I was about to lose it and snap—

“Boss! Boss! Big trouble!”

A frantic voice came from outside.

A beggar lifted the tent flap, sticking only his face inside, and said, “Belmont’s territorial soldiers are threatening to raid our hideout! And, uh, it seems pretty serious…”

“What? Why our hideout all of a sudden? Have they lost their minds?”

“It’s… Viscount Mosfield himself leading the soldiers!”

“What the hell are you talking about? The lord himself coming here?”

“W-Well…”

“Speak clearly, you filthy beggar!”

“They say… Bihen Benkou is hiding here…”

Warren furrowed his brow and let out a deep sigh.

“Why would the Sword Fiend come here? Idiots, tch.”

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