Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-One: Rescue Order
Just as Karen had anticipated, Waltride was not there when they went to see Boromias.
Personally, Karen had thought that even after learning of Waltride’s disappearance, Boromias wouldn’t take it seriously. Despite being siblings, unlike Karen and Thor, they didn’t get along well, and Boromias had entrusted Waltride with managing the adventurers in order to keep her in check.
However, upon receiving the news, Boromias’ face changed color.
“Don’t tell me—follow me! Alchemist Karen!”
“Eh? Y-Yes!”
When Boromias ordered Karen to follow him, Julius naturally came along as well.
The tent they arrived at held Horst as a prisoner.
Tied to a chair, his appearance made it painfully clear he’d been subjected to intense interrogation. Karen involuntarily stepped back and bumped into Julius, who was standing behind her.
“So your true objective was me, was it?”
Rather than asking, Boromias spoke in a tone that showed he was certain of it. Karen furrowed her brow, not understanding what he meant. The one who had been kidnapped was Waltride, not Boromias.
Horst remained silent, only looking up at Boromias with damp, clammy eyes, answering nothing. It was as if his lengthy speech before Karen had been a lie.
“She may be a foolish younger sister, but as his first daughter, Father shows her exceptional favor. If Waltride were to die, the blame would fall on me as the leader of the dungeon investigation team. With such chaos caused, the dungeon investigation would be impossible to continue, and even if I succeeded in the investigation, I could be framed for murdering Waltride. In that case, I would be hated by Father and could even lose my right to the throne. That’s what you’re aiming for with this crime, isn’t it? But why would you do such a thing? Is it hatred toward the kingdom? Unlike the other magicless rabble, you rose to the rank of earl, didn’t you?”
“…”
Horst answered nothing and didn’t move a single facial muscle.
The stage where he spilled information freely to steer Karen and the others’ thinking had likely already passed for him.
Boromias clicked his tongue.
“Silent, are you… But the range where you, magicless ones, can move with Waltride on the eighth floor of this dungeon is limited. You’re either hiding nearby or have headed toward the blank zone.”
Boromias turned to face Karen.
Julius stepped forward, as if bracing himself against a potential threat.
“Alchemist Karen. I order you to search for Waltride in the blank zone.”
“Karen is not Your Highness’s retainer!”
“Nevertheless, there is no one else capable of investigating the blank zone. I will personally examine every other location. Therefore, I want you to handle the blank zone.”
“…I accept your order, Your Highness.”
“Karen, I probably cannot return to that place. I cannot go with you!”
“I understand. Thor also tried to come with me, but he couldn’t enter.”
Julius seemed to instinctively understand that he was an existence rejected by that place.
Karen nodded to Julius and then looked at Boromias.
“However, Your Highness, may I present several conditions?”
“Ms. Karen, this matter concerns the rescue of the person you serve, doesn’t it?”
Tristan, who had been standing by, interjected with a confused expression. Lyos, standing guard at the entrance, was also looking at Karen as if she were an idiot.
But Boromias was magnanimous.
“Very well. Regardless of what kind of place the blank zone where Julius was imprisoned was, it must be dangerous. Since I’m asking you to risk your life, it’s only natural to reward you.”
“Then, first: please somehow keep everyone currently suffering in this camp alive until I return.”
“What do you mean?”
“Healing potions don’t work on them, but if they drink magical power recovery potions, the healing potions work a little better—I can probably cure their symptoms with my potions.”
Boromias said "Ah" with a look of realization.
“The panacea, you mean.”
“Yes. From what I saw on the way here, only the D-rank and C-rank adventurers who had taken my panacea the other day seemed to have mild symptoms, even the mages. And incidentally, my younger brother, who was raised on my potions.”
“I see. Understood. I promise not to let a single person die, even if I have to release all the reserves prepared for me.”
“Thank you very much. Then, second—may I speak with Earl Brahm?”
“I don’t mind, but he’s stopped talking entirely.”
“Even so, there’s something I want to ask.”
Boromias cleared the space for Karen, so she stood before Horst.
Horst stared into the empty space with dark eyes and didn’t even try to look at Karen anymore.
“I promise to make an effort to ensure that your uprising doesn’t cause prejudice against people with little magical power who are unrelated to this incident.”
Horst slightly widened his eyes and looked up at Karen.
How would the world react to this incident? People without magical power can also do things—they can threaten those with magical power. Upon learning this, people in society probably wouldn’t gain new respect for the magicless. They would only discriminate and oppress them more severely—Horst surely understood this better than anyone.
Karen looked straight back into those eyes and said:
“So, would you tell me? What did you do to Mr. Julius?”
“—I made him drink the nightmare of a certain monster.”
Even if Horst didn’t answer, Karen intended to make an effort for Harald and the innocent people. But Horst opened his closed mouth and said in a hoarse voice.
“Nightmare, you say?”
“When someone especially susceptible to magical influence touches it, they relive the nightmare and may fall into madness—if you had been just a little slower in saving Sir Julius, he would have been unable to endure the intense hunger that humans cannot resist and would have devoured you. Or perhaps Sir Julius would have started eating and tearing apart his own body… Yes, your existence alone was a miscalculation… If only you hadn’t been there, it would have happened… The longer the rescue took… the more irreversible it should have become…”
Horst’s words toward the end became mumbled within his mouth and were almost impossible to hear.
“…Thank you for telling me. I’ll keep my promise. Also, can you tell me what you plan to do with Lady Waltride?”
“There’s no way I would tell you that.”
“I thought so.”
As for Julius’s matter, it was already a finished operation for Horst.
That’s why she thought he might tell her if she asked.
And judging from this response, Waltride was probably alive.
If they had intended to kill her from the start, her corpse should have been lying in the tent.
Karen exhaled in relief and started to move away from Horst, then suddenly asked something that had occurred to her.
“By the way, was the mastermind behind this matter Lady Benedicta, the First Consort?”
“—Who told you such a thing?”
Horst clearly showed a reaction.
Karen hadn’t heard such a story from anyone. She had just suddenly thought of it.
—Or rather.
“From the very beginning, I thought it was Lady Benedicta’s will that brought Lady Waltride to the dungeon. So, if this kidnapping was planned from the start—”
“What could such a merely delicate woman possibly do? Ms. Karen, even though we’re inside the dungeon, you should refrain from politically careless remarks.”
Tristan silenced Karen, his manner betraying genuine confusion mixed with disdain. He wore the face of someone who truly believed such a thing was impossible.
Looking around, Boromias wore much the same expression as Tristan, while Julius looked tense for entirely different reasons.
Lyos had a blank expression, unable to follow the conversation.
Karen had just recently seen a similar scene.
At first, no one had even been wary of Horst.
“Lady Benedicta, the First Consort—no, perhaps it’s more about her son.”
The Fifth Prince, the King’s youngest son, was Benedicta’s child.
Still young, a mysterious prince about whom no information had surfaced.
“Could it be that His Highness the Fifth Prince has no magical power?”
If that were the case, it would be a reason for Horst and the others to risk their lives and throw everything away to drag Boromias down from the succession struggle. If it were to crown a king like themselves, one without magical power—
With a clatter, the chair Horst was tied to jerked.
“I should have killed you before anyone else! Alchemist Karen!”
Horst twisted and thrashed his body, tied to the chair.
Even as the rough rope cut into his body, tearing his flesh, he thrashed about as if trying to get even a little closer to Karen to bite and tear her apart, baring his teeth and stretching his neck.
Julius pulled Karen’s body toward him to protect her from being bitten, and Lyos restrained Horst.
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