Chapter 39

Chapter 39

"Are you not worried?" Philip suddenly uttered as they walked.

Ian, who was reading the third volume of documents brought from the count's secret chamber, asked indifferently, "About what?"

"Orendel. From what I see, there are too many unstable elements. Not just from your conversation with the lord.”

"You've finally started to think for yourself. Congratulations,"

"Do you see it that way too?" Philip shrugged.

Indeed, there were still many unsettling factors in Orendel, including Declan himself. However, it didn't particularly bother him. In a world heading toward destruction, the changes one individual could make were inevitably limited. Since he had prevented Orendel from falling into the hands of the corrupted one, this outcome was satisfactory.

"Forget it. Is now really the time to worry about Orendel?" Philip's face snapped to attention at the added comment, "Right. You're correct. The issue with Agel Lan is the biggest and most urgent. In that sense......."

Philip gestured with his chin, "Have you found something?"

"Not yet. It's better to hope for something. If there's nothing... our return to Agel Lan might be delayed,” said Ian.

"...!" Philip's face tensed, but in truth, Ian wasn't overly concerned.

Corrupted beings, like mages, enjoyed documenting their deeds. Depending on whether it was evidence to guard against betrayal or mere boasting from a sense of superiority or overinflated ego, the content varied dramatically. The Marquess seemed to lean toward the former. Just as Ian was absorbing all sorts of unwanted trivia and information, he found something.

"There it is.”Philip, who had a wary face quickly turned his head, "What? What is it?"

Ian pushed the booklet he was reading toward Philip.

"I can't see anything." Philip blinked.

"Really?" Ian smiled slyly and infused magic into the emblem on the cover. Words suddenly appeared on the paper.

"What about now?" Ian asked.

"...It’sa magically sealed book?" said Philip.

"Yes. Perfect for recording content that shouldn't be seen by others,” said Ian.

It seemed they hadn't considered that a clean notebook among many documents might be more suspicious, thought Ian.

"So, what does it say?" Philip asked.

"It's a list. The marquess really didn't trust anyone. Not just a list of mentioned individuals but also their personal information that he investigated," said Ian.

This guy, he really wanted to be the king, a sneer spread across Ian's lips.

However, it appeared the Marquess hadn't fully grasped the true purpose of Regis Brant. There was nothing about transforming all of Agel Lan into a demonic realm in the summaries of their secret meetings or conversations.

There were only detailed plans to establish a coalition of corrupted states, create an immortal legion with forbidden knowledge from the abyss, and expand their power by swallowing up border countries, eventually threatening the empire itself. That was the grand ambition of the Marquess and the other corrupted. n0ve(l)bi(n.)co/m

In the end, they were all just puppets of Regis, Ian felt he understood Regis Brant's method. He must have incited the hidden ambitions and desires of power holders and intellectuals, eventually pushing them over the edge. Of course, he would have made countless promises that their desires would be fulfilled.

In Ian's view, once Agel Lan became a demonic realm, all those promises would be void. Then, even if the corrupted didn't want to, they would have to obey. Or perhaps, they would just be sacrifices.

With these madmen lurking all over the continent, it's a wonder the world hasn't collapsed sooner, thought Ian. Even in these times, humans were busy plotting wars against each other.

Philip, looking anxious, asked, "Which names are there? Do you recognize any?"

"Regis Brant is definitely there," said Ian.

Ian's hand stopped as he flipped the page, "Frederick Hansen...."

"...Who is that?" Philip asked.

"A priest from Valk City. He was close to the lord. Oh, Hanna Button. This name is familiar too," said Ian.

"Who's that?" Philip asked.

"A noblewoman from Valk City. Not officially a noble though," Ian replied.

"Finally...." As Philip descended the slope, he let out a sigh of emotion. Far away, the landscape of Agel Lan unfolded before them.

"For a backwater place, it's quite something," Ian remarked.

Centered around a gentle hill, Agel Lan was decades ahead of other cities in the kingdom. Although it wasn't a small city even in the game, being there in reality, made Ian realize how much had been omitted back then.

Atop the hill stood the inner castle, with buildings cascading down its sides, encircled by a mid-hill wall. Below the hill, more buildings spread out, surrounded by another layer of castle wall. Construction to add another wall around the edge was underway.

Beside it, a river of moderate width flowed, and the opposite plains were filled with fields. The strategic location of Agel Lan, also the name of the city, was surely part of the reason it became a kingdom. Perhaps the former Marquess of Orendel had wished to transform his domain similarly.

And the bloodbath hasn't hit yet, Ian nodded at the intact appearance of the city, signifying that Mev had kept her promise.

"Tonight, we will finally get to sleep in a warm room." Philip quickened his pace.

Even though Philip had been tidy when they left Orendel, he now looked no different from a vagrant. Moreover, the weather was gradually getting colder. Even in an area with little seasonal change, such minor shifts felt significant to those sleeping outdoors.

Soon, Ian entered the outskirts of Agel Lan. The streets were bustling, with most people paying them no mind—a sign of frequent outsiders and good public order.

Then, Philip stopped in front of the first city wall's gate.

"Seems like you're from out of town. State your identity and purpose," a guard said. Despite the repetitiveness of his job, he appeared disciplined.

"I am a squire of Mev Riurel, the Blade of Agel Lan. This gentleman here is Ian Hope, a guest of Sir Riruel," said Ian.

"A guest of the Riruel family...?" The soldier, skeptical at their appearance, signaled someone. "We'll send it for verification. Wait here."

"Understood,” Philip led the horse toward the wall.

Ian remained silent, inwardly surprised by the orderly and rational procedure.

"The city operates systematically," said Ian.

"Of course. This is the heart of the kingdom. From the law to housing, everything is systematic.”Ian thought it was probably modeled after the Empire but nodded approvingly nonetheless. By the standards of this world, it was a decent place to live. Scenes from the game flashed through his mind—the city engulfed in flames, a complete chaos, an unimaginable sight now.

One wrong move and it could all come to that again, thought Ian.

Then, someone rushed out from the gate. A sturdy man wearing a noble's servant robe and hood approached them, scanning the area before spotting Ian and Philip.

"You've finally arrived! I've been waiting so long I nearly turned to stone!" Removing his hood and smiling was a face familiar to them.

"Miguel! To think there'd come a day I'd be glad to see you!" Philip embraced him warmly.

Despite murmuring, “What is this?”, Miguel patted his back and then looked at Ian, who was dismounting his horse.

"Your face is dripping with grease. Seems you've been living well," said Ian.

Miguel burst into laughter, his well-groomed beard and scar shook.

"Looking at you two, I can't say otherwise. Let's go inside." Miguel turned and started walking, exchanging nods with the guards.

Philip chuckled, "You've become a local."

"As you know, I adapt well. Considering the time I've spent here, it's only natural. You, too, seem to have acquired the mercenary look," said Miguel.

"Unintentionally, yes," Philip replied.

"That's how it always starts," said Miguel.

Laughing heartily, Miguel continued, "We have to cross another wall. Philip knows, but the Riurel estate is in the innermost part."

"Why did you come out, though? I thought Sir Riruel herself would come, given the situation," said Philip.

"She would have preferred that, having awaited you more eagerly than I. But, she couldn't," said Miguel.

Rubbing the scar on his cheek, Miguel lowered his voice, glancing around, "Currently, Sir Riurel is confined to the house."

Both Philip and Ian's brows furrowed at this unexpected news.