Chapter 41: City of Fanatics (2)

“…”

Vigo’s confident reply left Pierre at a loss for words.

‘Looks like they picked up some brat who knows how to fight…’

But how many geniuses had died from overconfidence?

In the hundreds of years of hunter history, there had been countless natural-born talents who died nameless.

They might have been peerless among hunters, yet before witches they were nothing more than insects.

‘That kid will be no different.’

Even if he was the one Vigo praised, their enemy was the Golden Dawn. And not just anywhere, but the stronghold of a sect that worshiped Sin.

It was obvious what’s going to happen if he went in alone. Just surviving would be enough to praise him.

Vigo rose from his seat.

“That’s enough rest. Time to begin the mission.”

“…Are we infiltrating as planned?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, Nike. Get up. We got work to do.”

“Hah…?”

“It’s hunting time.”

“Oh! Finally, my time to shine!”

“Mhm. Let’s get ready~”

“Where’s the witch!”

Rowen clapped Nike on the back, leading him out, while Vigo settled the bill.

Pierre watched, feeling as though a heavy stone pressed against his chest, seeing the senior hunter coax and humor the boy like a child.

‘Trusting a kid like that for such an important mission… The Silver Blades must have lost their minds.’

He clicked his tongue and downed his beer in one gulp. It was all to show his disapproval.

It wasn’t anger, nor real dislike toward Nike. The Scales of Justitia had no emotions.

It was simply rational to doubt and be wary of Nike.

‘I’ll be watching you, boy.’

Even with aid from the Scales, final authority rested with Vigo.

As was his nature, Vigo decided to infiltrate Banyaksenir at once. Waiting outside wringing their hands would change nothing.

Pierre had already prepared everything. All they needed was a disguise.

He led them to a reed field some distance away, where a wagon full of supplies and disguises lay hidden.

Vigo gave genuine praise.

In matters like this, the Order of the Scales were thorough.

“You’re well prepared.”

“If it were sloppy, they would see through us instantly. Truth is, even with this level of preparation, others have been caught. This much won’t be enough.”

“Hm, is that so? Damn nuisance.”

Vigo grumbled as he affixed a false beard, ready to pose as a tobacco merchant.

Clink, clink.

“Cat’s forepaw thicket leaf, Imperial yellow bee pills, distilled poison from syphilis flower petals… Incredible.”

“Oh? You must be interested in potions, Rowen.”

Pierre noticed her eyeing his hunting tools. He had many rare concoctions not easily found.

The Order of the Scales specialized in alchemy, just as the Silver Blades were famed for weapons, and the Sacred Iron Chains for sacred law.

It reflected their philosophy of reason.

“...Yes. I never had a talent for using weapons.”

“Haha. Next time you visit, I’ll give you a proper tour.”

Pierre lied smoothly. Winning the favor of a hunter from another order could never hurt.

After disguises were donned, Pierre tidied up.

“Rowen, you’ll be the orphan sister… Yes, it suits you well.”

“…Sister huh. Thank you.”

She was just thankful she wasn’t cast as Nike’s mother.

“Rowen is my mom!”

“No, your older sister! Sister!”

“What if I say you look like a mom, Rowen?”

“Wanna die?”

Nike smiled cheerfully while wearing a wig that matched Rowen’s hair color. To him, everything outside was new and fun.

Disguise and infiltration… might be life-or-death for others, but for him it was play. Pierre clicked his tongue at the sight.

“Nike. Did you memorize what our roles are supposed to be?”

“Vice boss Lawrence. Myself, Nier. Ages twenty and thirteen. Orphans, parents killed by demons. From Maiana.”

“…Good.”

“…!?”

Pierre had assumed Nike was distracted the entire time and would fail the test. His surprise was genuine.

‘This kid, when did he memorize it…?’

Pierre was surprised, but sometimes, even a fool showed genius in a narrow field. Considering that, he shouldn’t've been too surprised.

“I’ll say it again. Trust no one in this city but us four and the investigator we’re to meet. Now, where’s the meeting point?”

Pierre purposely pointed to Nike, acting like it was natural.

“Center of the city. The river bridge.”

No delay in his answer. Nike slid through the test like an eel.

Pierre shut his mouth after hearing him. His expression didn’t change, but he was genuinely surprised.

“…Good. Still, keep reviewing it in your head...”

He muttered awkward advice to Nike before turning to Vigo.

“…Are you ready?”

“All set. When the mission ends, can I take these tobacco goods?”

“…They belong to the Scales. That won’t do.”

“Just tell that old Salieri it was me.”

“…”

One side or the other, both were a pain. Pierre found himself disliking the Silver Blades more and more.

“Then I’ll enter the city first. An hour later Vigo joins with another caravan, then Miss Rowen comes in last.”

He deliberately added “Miss” before Rowen’s name, then gave a stylish nod as he wished her luck.

“…May fortune be with you.”

* * *

Banyaksenir was a great city bisected by a river, bustling with residents and travelers.

It bore the weight of authority befitting the domain of Count Simas, a noble renowned throughout the empire.

There were no filthy streets, no beggars, no shadows lurking in alleys.

It was a rare sight in these times. A clean and advanced city.

Nike gaped in awe the moment they entered. Compared to this, the village of Sinain hardly seemed fit for human habitation.

“S-Shock!”

“Shh—Nike. Lower your voice…!”

“I will live here.”

A dream was born in Nike’s eyes, burning with desire. This was paradise.

Yet beneath it all…

‘...It stinks of corruption.’

The stench of magic clung to the city. It was enough to make one believe it was a den of monsters.

It was no exaggeration to say that the entire city had been swallowed up by witch worshippers.

“Khuhuhu…”

“Nike. D-Don’t laugh. Why are you laughing all of a sudden…! Are you trying to play an orphan who went insane after losing his parents…?”

Yes, this was the perfect place for Nike to rampage. Perfect for earning glory.

‘I’ll rack up achievements, earn gold, and buy this city!’

His eyes sparkled as he scanned everything. The count’s castle, the merchants, and the children in the square.

All of it seemed ordinary, yet unease lingered.

‘Eyes.’

The source of the unease was the constant surveillance.

Nike’s keen senses could not be fooled.

The townsfolk lived like normal subjects, yet every outsider was watched.

‘A hundred Morganas!’

There were no blind spots. Eyes and ears covered every corner.

The city was a nightmare, even to Nike.

Vigo himself would not have exaggerated to say so.

And this was their first mission site. Nike’s eyes glimmered. Just how much meat and praise would he earn here?

‘Triumphant return!’

He grinned, already savoring success.

Rowen, who was watching him from the beginning, had no idea why he smiled.

She decided it was just better to keep pushing the “broken child” act, since they were surely already noticed by now.  

“O-Okay… Nike. Hold your big sister’s hand... You must behave, okay?”

“Got it!”

Rowen grabbed Nike’s hand and dragged him along. Her hand was filled with her sweat.

‘Sweat?’

She too sensed the hostile gazes, though less sharply compared to Nike.

It felt like walking through a dark mountain where disappearance was normal.

She feigned calm for Nike, but her unease doubled without her teacher beside her.

And because they had to disguise themselves as ordinary citizens, they couldn’t bring weapons with them besides a few tools. She only had a sword cane disguised as a walking stick.

The oppressive fear was crushing her shoulders.

Nike noticed her tense grip and thought,

‘Vice boss. She looks like a baby boar drenched in rain.’’

The saying that hunters feared the Golden Dawn more than witches was no exaggeration.

Soon they reached the bridge over the river. This was where they were to make contact.

The third investigator, having seen what happened to the last two, was being extremely cautious.

‘Direct contact would endanger us all.’

He would leave evidence hidden on the bridge. Rowen and Nike would recover it and leave naturally.

The next day, all would regroup outside the city and plan.

Vigo was watching from somewhere unseen. Pierre was securing an escape route.

No one knew the others’ appearance or condition. A mission through darkness indeed.

Tap, tap.

Lost in thought, Rowen felt Nike tap her hand.

“Hmm…?”

He rolled his eyes and pointed to the clocktower.

“…Ah.”

It was past five in the afternoon.

Between five and six, the investigator was to leave the trace so they had to observe carefully.

“…Alright. Nike, let’s focus. We must find out who’s our ally.”

“Leave it to me.”

He grew serious, sniffing the air, seeking Pierre’s scent. It wasn’t easy as the city was filled with the stench of magic.

‘...There aren’t as many as I feared. Thank goodness...’

Rowen begged with her eyes as she and Nike took position, begging coins.

The only people in sight were…

A noblewoman crossing with her servant.

A beggar asleep by the railing.

A woman scattering feed to pigeons.

A youth checking his watch as if awaiting someone.

‘One of them is the Scales…’

Rowen and Nike slumped down, hat before them.

Their job was to pretend to be beggars, asking for coins.

Rowen called out pitifully, and Nike joined.

“…Please, my little brother is starving.”

“Meat.”

“Spare some change, just a little...”

“Meat.”

She rubbed her hands and blew on them as if they were cold in the warm season, playing the part of the older sister, struggling to feed her little brother.

Nike only had to mutter “meat” under his hood, so it wasn’t hard for him.

“Kgfh, meat…”

he sniffled like he was crying. Whether it was on purpose or not, Rowen was impressed by the act.  

Aside from the occasional passerby who left a coin in a leisurely manner, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

For Rowen, who was on edge fearing an ambush, that was a relief.

‘I wonder if a trace has been left by now.’

Half an hour passed. Rowen checked again.

The noblewoman was gone.

The beggar still slept.

The pigeon-feeding woman had gathered more birds.

The youth stormed off, angry at a missed meeting.

‘Only two are left. Is it the pigeon woman or the man?’

The pigeons were perfect cover as she could drop something with the feed or tie a note to a bird. And no one would come close to the pigeons because of their smell.

It seemed most likely for the pigeon woman to be the correct option.

“Meat.”

“Oh, poor child…”

“Ah, thank you! Truly, thank you!”

“Meat!”

Rowen continued to play the role of a beggar while thinking to herself.

When to move.

The possibility of being watched.

How not to arouse suspicion.

Not a single thing was easy. It was like walking barefoot on a razor's edge.

Right as her thoughts only sunk deeper,

A familiar face walked past her.

‘Master…!’

He was hauling a load of tobacco across the river, but the words he muttered as he went over sounded odd.

“This city is hopeless for business! What kind of people don’t smoke? Acting all high and mighty, tch tch… I swear, I’m never coming back here. Bah! Ptui!”

It was Vigo in disguise, grumbling as he passed.

On the surface it seemed like a merchant’s ordinary complaint, yet to Rowen’s ears it was anything but ordinary.

‘Hopeless, he said…?’

At that very moment, Nike’s hand tightened around Rowen’s.

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