Chapter 44

Chapter 44

[Translator Clara]

[Proofreader Demon God]

The beginning was the Black Disaster.

Without any warning, the disaster descended upon Hastins square, disappearing in a matter of seconds. In that brief moment, countless lives in the square were snuffed out.

Buildings touched by the black entity crumbled, and living beings it touched burst apart. Everything was thoroughly trampled upon.

Unfortunately, those who gazed upon the Black Disaster with their own eyes mostly fell into an eternal slumber. It was only natural that those unconscious could not endure even a week and succumbed to death.

People who lost their homes began to wander aimlessly.

Soon after, news of the death of Count Etark, the lord of Hastin, began to circulate in the streets.

Not long after the disaster struck, someone set fire to the fields.

Immediately, ominous rumors spread throughout the entire village. It was said that the crops in the path of the Black Disaster were all contaminated. Anyone who tasted even a bit would suffer from a terribly painful plague.

The villagers pleaded for help from other territories. After several attempts at communication, a promise was returned to send a carriage loaded with supplies.

And so, one day, two days, a few days passed.

It didnt come.

No matter how long they waited, not only did the carriage carrying provisions fail to arrive, but even something resembling a carriages snout did not appear.

It didnt take long for communication with other territories to be severed.

And so, a few more days passed.

Under the cover of night, individuals who suggested secretly escaping the village started to appear one by one. Making a pact to send news and supplies once they reached another village, they departed on the dark night roads.

When even news from them became impossible to hear, no one could rely on external support any longer.

Rumors began to circulate that Hastin was a cursed land.

There were whispers that the empire had abandoned the cursed land.

Despair took root.

The residents had to endure through winter.

The fields, now darker than the Black Disaster itself, were rendered useless.

The residents had to endure until the crops grew again. Amidst the bleak situation, the residents thought, Even though theres no mention of the land being contaminated, the newly grown crops should be safe.

Now, the key was whether they had enough provisions to last until winter.

There was none.

Given the unfortunate timing just before the harvest season, the stored grains were at their lowest.

Crops that were flourishing and on the verge of harvest had all turned into black ashes. The feelings of the villagers mirrored the situation of their crops.

In the midst of everyone wandering aimlessly, a wealthy commoner couple stepped forward.

The couple had a considerable amount of food. There were no class distinctions in the conditions for sharing food with the residents of the alley. Even the residents of the back alleys received the couples kindness.

Around this couple, people began to emerge, shouting that everyone must unite to survive.

And the next day.

Both of them were found murdered in their home.

A predictable but tragic story.

The amount of food the couple shared was nowhere near enough to last through the winter. At best, it was an amount that wouldnt even last a week.

Someone who needed more food must have killed the couple. As the stench of decaying bodies filled the house, the stored food in the barn disappeared unnoticed.

No one trusts anyone else. Without trust, they dont unite, and in an atmosphere of widespread distrust, people lock themselves in their homes to avoid being robbed.

Tott subtly observed Devourers expression. Devourer showed no change in expression, listening as if it were an ordinary story.

Fortunately, not all fields were completely burned. There were some untouched areas, but since the rumor spread about the contamination of crops, no one dared to touch the crops.

That was also the reason why the people living in the back alleys had not starved to death until now. The remaining grains, considered contaminated, became the share of the back alley residents. They had been struggling to survive by eating those abandoned grains.

Being impoverished, having nothing to lose, and already afflicted by numerous diseases, it was the only choice they could make.

So, you ate it, and contrary to the rumors, it was fine?

Yes, so far.

Devourer sat in the living room, resting his chin on his hand.

Theres no way the crops are contaminated.

What touched Devourers true form stained black. Only on the things it touched.

As expected, the lord is suspicious.

He was a person riddled with suspicion from the beginning.

In cases like this, theres no clearer answer than meeting them in person.

Several hours had passed since the conversation with the back alley gang leader. Standing alone in the village square, Patrick muttered to himself.

There were countless ways to meet the lord. Starting from chance encounters, there was also the option of infiltration, as attempted last night.

Since the presence of internal guards had been confirmed earlier, this time, if one were to infiltrate through the window at midnight, they could see the lord.

But even if I do that, it might not mean much.

Just seeing someone while they sleep wouldnt reveal much about their true nature.

Voice tremors, subtle glances, habits, attitudes, expressions to uncover many things, engaging in direct conversation was the best option.

In essence, he had to personally go to the lord and have a conversation.

The problem was how to meet the lord. There was no need to overthink it. Patrick made a small fake cough, contemplating.

If he had to see the lord, he needed to create a situation where seeing him was unavoidable.

If a major event occurred within the territory, whether good or bad

Patricks choice was the latter.

In the case of a crime, there was a higher chance of being immediately taken to prison without meeting the lord. Considering the hassle of dealing with the aftermath, it was better to choose the option of making a public statement with some significant achievement.

For such an achievement, a crisis of a corresponding magnitude was necessary.

No need to complicate things.

Creating a crisis was as simple as making it himself.

Being called the Prince on a White Horse, it was a method nobles had been fond of for a long time to capture the hearts of women. It might be common and cheesy, but one effect was undoubtedly guaranteed.

Creating a crisis intentionally and solving it to gain fame.

Patrick wore a sinister smile. Carefully held in his hands was a harpy egg, cautiously guarded as if it might break.

Surreptitiously conducting reconnaissance outside Hastin wasnt an easy process.

Originally, he wanted to obtain a wyvern egg, but since there were no wyvern nests around Hastin, he opted for a harpy egg as a substitute.

Despite putting in his best effort to sneak out of Hastin, head to the forest, steal the egg quietly, and return, Patrick wasted a whole day.

Harpies had a keen sense of smell. Simultaneously, they emitted a foul odor. The scent was a racial characteristic, and eggs, even from harpies, carried the same stench.

On the way back to Hastin, Patrick had scattered things emitting the scent of harpies all around the path. Soon, the harpies would catch wind of the stolen egg. Since they lived in family units, he expected around three to four of them to gather.

In the current chaotic situation of the village, if harpies arrived, the guards alone wouldnt be able to stop them.

Thats when Patrick would barge in, drive away all the harpies, and claim the credit for the feat.

I came up with this plan, and it seems to be a perfectly flawless operation. Ha, my talent is becoming quite fearsome now.

Of course, the sudden appearance of harpies and the knight who dealt with them out of the blue would be highly suspicious. Executing the operation without any losses, how could one proceed without encountering difficulties? All Patrick needed was to meet the lord between the left and right.

Having rationalized the situation to himself, Patrick lifted his head. The loud cries from a distance were getting closer and louder.

Theyre already coming.

Patrick, who had secretly hidden the egg, grabbed a thick tree branch instead of a sword. It might be a crude weapon for a savior, but what could he do?

No matter how you think about it, he seems like a genius.

Patrick, lost in self-admiration, counted the approaching harpies. The wriggling mass seemed a bit larger than expected.

One, two, three, four, five

Its a bit much.

No, its more than just a bit.

Roughly estimating, there were more than dozens of harpies swarming in.

In no time, Patrick, who had been folding his fingers, clenched both fists when the approaching harpy horde reached a significant number. At that moment, he muttered to himself in a small voice.

Darn it.

It seemed like a large family.

Phase 5

[Translator Clara]

[Proofreader Demon God]

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