Chapter 18
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Beval shuddered as the mark narrowly missed a sensitive area.
[Ugh.]
"Do demons feel pain, too?"
[Are you referring to the male form?]
"I see."
This is quite interesting.
To think that even an entity as robust and alien as this doesn't differ much from humans in its physical structure.
'Does this mean he is, after all, a creature of God?'
I glanced at his crotch, and Beval subtly shifted his body.
[Where are you looking?]
"What do you mean?"
I feigned ignorance and just smiled brightly.
[How lewd.]
"Grand Duchess."
In the meantime, Giselle had grabbed and subdued Holdin.
His noisy mouth was tightly gagged with cloth.
"Mmph! Mmph!"
"I have subdued him. What shall we do now?"
"Mmmph!"
Giselle asked calmly, bringing the tip of her hidden weapon right up to Holdin's ear canal.
Perhaps sensing the cold aura, Holdin’s struggling stopped immediately.
"Uh-ah-ah-ah."
"...I believe he is saying, 'I was wrong.'"
"Ah, ugh."
"I'll tell you everything."
"It's already too late."
I lightly stepped on his fingernails, which were pressed against the floor.
I hadn't put my full weight on them yet.
Fear was more important than pain, after all.
"The day I picked you up, I sent people to the forest immediately. I wanted to confirm who was coming to find you and from which direction they arrived."
"..."
"Shall we make a simple bet?"
I proposed, singing the words while watching Holdin’s brow twitch.
"Let's find out who tried to kill Count Nemanich. If I find out first, I win. If you tell me first, you win."
"Uh-uh-ugh-ahhh!"
"If you win, I will let you examine Count Nemanich’s condition yourself. How about it?"
I lifted my foot from his hand.
At the same time, Giselle withdrew the weapon she had been holding to Holdin’s ear.
Realizing the meaning of these actions, Holdin began to thrash and struggle.
He was desperate to get out of Giselle’s grip and open his mouth.
'You should have been compliant from the start.'
I watched Holdin, who was wriggling like a crushed earthworm, with a smile on my face.
Like a dog with wet fur, he shook his head frantically, drooling as he struggled to spit out the cloth gagging him.
'Yes. Realize it now.'
You may have been the strong ones until now, but here, in my country, that is not the case.
Perhaps running out of strength, Holdin’s thrashing gradually subsided.
He lifted his head and looked up at me, appearing relaxed, with a look of profound injustice in his eyes.
[This looks fun.]
That was when it happened.
Beval suddenly approached, crouched down in front of Holdin, and pointed at the cloth in his mouth.
[Shall I help you? Contractor.]
"Ugh!"
Holdin nodded quickly, then belatedly glanced at me.
"External interference is also part of your fate. Especially when it’s the help of the demon you contracted with."
I gave a short nod to grant him permission.
Since I allowed him to receive all the help he wanted, Holdin looked up at Beval pleadingly.
[Are you really helping? Really?]
Beval looked at those pathetic eyes with a playful smirk, enjoying the situation.
"Ugh-ah!"
Then, finally, when Beval pulled the cloth from Holdin’s mouth, someone opened the door and walked in without even knocking.
"Grand Duchess."
"Hey, you crazy woman!"
It was a mercenary I employed in secret.
They were the only ones allowed to approach without my permission, and their leader was none other than Giselle.
Before I could even blink, he knelt before me and gave a brief report.
"I have carried out the orders you gave."
At the same time, Holdin shouted.
"I was attacked by Joaquin Perez!"
"He is the Third Prince’s henchman."
[Hmm. It seems that side was a bit faster.]
Beval laughed as if it were amusing and pointed at the mercenary.
Then, he mischievously tilted his head and poked the top of Holdin’s head with a long fingernail.
[Or not? Was this side faster?]
'He intervened on purpose.'
Beval had sensed the approaching footsteps and staged an exciting situation on purpose.
Purely because he thought it would be fun.
I decided to gladly go along with the demon’s amusement.
"Indeed. It’s hard to judge."
"Joaquin Perez set a trap and lured the Count! That’s why the attack...!"
With a wave of my hand, Giselle gagged Holdin again.
I didn't spare a single glance for Holdin, telling the mercenary, who was still looking at the ground in front of me, to finish his report.
"There were three of them. They crossed the border disguised as merchant guards. We confirmed the staged scene, cleaned it up, and returned straight to Cordi."
Cleaning up meant they had killed those who accompanied them for the sake of the disguise.
Naturally, they would have disposed of the bodies cleanly so they wouldn't be discovered.
"Did you damage the scene?"
"We only confirmed it."
"What about the dead?"
"Nine in total. All the merchants were confirmed to be ordinary citizens of Cordi."
"...That trash."
To kill innocent citizens without a second thought just to cross a border.
And his own countrymen, at that.
'Without any regard for human life.'
This was why I loathed Joaquin Perez.
I offered a brief, silent prayer for the poor souls I would never know.
"Keep watching. I’m sure more guests will visit."
"Understood."
The knight bowed deeply and withdrew.
I looked down at Holdin, who was pressed flat against the floor in terror.
Tick, tock. The sound of the clock’s second hand indifferently touched the tension in the room.
"Shall we call it a draw?"
When I suggested it with a smile, the tension drained from Holdin’s eyes.
I told Giselle to release him and ordered her to wait in the hallway.
[Ah, that was fun!]
Beval stretched refreshingly and flopped onto the bed behind us.
It seemed he had lost interest in our conversation.
"Haha."
Still sitting on the floor, Holdin rubbed his ear with his palm.
It seemed the cold, murderous intent still lingered like residue.
"You are truly a master at playing with people."
"If you want to criticize me for being evil, go ahead. It doesn't bother me at all."
"No. It was just an exclamation of admiration."
"I’ll take that as a compliment. Let’s sit back down. The tea must have gone cold."
I rang the bell to have fresh tea brought in.
Holdin, his spirit clearly broken, slid his chair back slightly to put some distance between us.
"If you had won, what were you going to demand?"
"Your fingernails."
"...Excuse me?"
"Your fingernails."
I smiled nonchalantly while dissolving sugar into my tea.
"I was planning to give them as a gift to Count Nemanich."
At my words, Holdin’s complexion turned deathly pale.
He looked even more terrified than when I had been trying to scare him earlier, which confirmed my suspicions.
'So that’s why only the fingernails wouldn't regenerate.'
That must have been the element that triggered Deyan’s trauma.
I suspect they were pulled out during the torture he endured under the guise of demon summoning.
I had guessed as much from the moment I realized there were surprisingly few scars when I was treating Deyan’s wounds.
'Only the wounds from before he contracted with the demon and the wounds inflicted by the power of an angel left scars.'
That meant.
The culprit who stabbed Deyan’s abdomen also used a holy relic.
'And that culprit is Joaquin Perez.'
If so, why were Deyan and Holdin carrying out such a dangerous mission across the border?
It was time to finally solve the mystery I had been wondering about all along.
"I thought if I threatened him by brandishing your fingernails, that man would obediently spill all the facts."
"You really are reckless."
"You should have realized that when I told you I was going to summon a demon."
"Why do you insist on dirtying your own hands?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
I tilted my head.
'Why do it myself? Isn't it a given?'
Revenge is something only those already mired in the mud decide to pursue.
What does it matter if a life already stained becomes a little dirtier?
"Because it’s more efficient to walk the path yourself, even if you get a little dirty."
If you get dirty, you can just wash it off.
No matter how much you pretend to be clean and high-minded while covered in filth, you can't hide the stench anyway.
It was better to run through the muck and get to the water to wash it off quickly.
"Let’s skip the small talk and get to the point."
When I gave him a look, Holdin let out a deep sigh and opened his mouth.
"For nearly a year, the trade ships sent out from Adorif have been consistently plundered by pirates, and His Majesty is deeply troubled."
"Pirates?"
"Yes. According to the testimony of survivors, dozens of unidentified ships have been systematically occupying the sea in the Valeon Strait."
'That’s impossible.'
That cannot be.
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