Chapter 119
Roderick
Two horses stood waiting before the main gate of the Myatro baronial residence.
Sir Mamon mounted the enormous warhorse and said,
“We must hurry. His Majesty is waiting.”
The false Johan—Verdan—hesitated briefly before the remaining horse.
“Sir Mamon, I’m afraid I must return to the manor for a moment.”
He needed to buy time by any means possible.
That was Mapheltan’s command.
He had been ordered to delay them for as long as he could.
Mamon frowned.
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
Johan spoke calmly.
“There is something I forgot to bring. I cannot visit His Majesty empty-handed.”
“If that is all, do not concern yourself. This audience was not scheduled, so His Majesty will understand.”
Johan shook his head.
“This is a matter of propriety. As a noble of the Council, I do not wish to be discourteous to His Majesty.”
The Johan before him was an impostor.
He was mocking Mamon with his shameless performance.
Mamon knew that perfectly well, which made it all the more irritating.
“...You can observe the proper formalities later. Our most urgent priority is meeting His Majesty.”
Johan responded firmly.
“My apologies, but I must refuse. Please give me a moment. I will return shortly.”
Mamon wanted to roar at him.
He nearly shouted that he knew who he truly was and ordered him to stop pretending.
However, he could not act yet.
The timing was not right.
He needed to expose the false Johan before everyone at the royal palace.
Only then could he deal a devastating blow to the Watcher of Narak.
Suppressing his irritation, Mamon said,
“Then make it quick.”
“Thank you for your consideration.”
Johan headed back into the manor.
To Mamon, his retreating figure appeared utterly detestable.
“Whew.”
Mamon looked up at the night sky, hoping to calm his displeasure.
His mood did not improve in the slightest.
Johan did not reappear even after a considerable amount of time had passed.
As the night deepened, Mamon’s nerves grew increasingly frayed.
“My apologies. It took a little longer than expected to choose an appropriate tribute.”
Only after a lengthy wait did Johan emerge from the manor again.
He carried a small treasure chest in his hands.
Mamon struggled to suppress his fury.
“...Let us depart immediately. We are already extremely late.”
“Of course. I have no intention of keeping His Majesty waiting any longer, either.”
Johan placed a foot in the stirrup.
He was climbing into the saddle at an excruciatingly slow pace.
Mamon scowled.
“You claim you have no intention of keeping him waiting, yet...”
“Ah, my apologies. One moment, please.”
Johan abruptly stepped back onto the ground.
Mamon’s face contorted.
“Why are you not mounting the horse immediately?!”
He raised his voice. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remain courteous.
Johan spoke with a composed expression.
“My apologies, Sir Mamon. My stomach suddenly hurts terribly.”
Mamon’s face twisted like that of a demon.
He wanted to draw his sword on the spot.
“Do not tell me you intend to return to the manor again.”
“It will only take a moment. I ask for your understanding.”
Verdan was making a mockery of him.
A lowborn wretch—a parasite dwelling in the shadows—was humiliating a noble knight.
Mamon would not have been satisfied even if he cut him down on the spot.
Rage surged within him, but he barely managed to retain his reason.
He dismounted and approached Johan.
Then he spoke in a low, threatening voice.
“It appears you are deliberately stalling. Allow me to confirm one thing.”
Johan’s expression did not change in the slightest.
“Stalling? What in the world are you—”
Before he could finish, silver ripples spread from Mamon’s body.
It was an Aura permitted only to the knights of House Leonar.
Enveloped in that Aura, Mamon asked,
“Do you remember me, Verdan?”
Johan’s eyes trembled for a brief instant.
He had unmistakably encountered that silver Aura several days earlier.
The man who had given Verdan the job had been the owner of that very Aura.
The masked knight who had claimed to be a member of House Leonar—
That man had been Mamon.
Johan was deeply shaken, but he composed his expression as best he could.
“...What is the meaning of this sudden discourtesy?”
Mamon let out an incredulous laugh.
“What an extraordinary authority. Or is it the Watcher of Narak who is extraordinary?”
The Schemer authority replicated most of its target’s personality as well.
Because Verdan was imitating Johan, he could maintain a certain degree of composure even in the face of a shocking situation.
That was how he was able to control his expression now.
But in the end, Verdan was still Verdan.
No matter how well he played the part of a great man, he could not completely conceal the traces of his petty nature.
For just a moment, he had revealed his agitation.
Sir Mamon had not missed that instant.
He had seen Johan’s eyes tremble.
Johan spoke with a composed expression.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Mamon seized both of Johan’s shoulders and muttered to himself,
“Now I am completely certain. The man before me is not the Watcher of Narak.”
Now that the truth was clear, Mamon no longer needed to remain courteous.
He lifted Johan and placed him atop the warhorse.
Johan spoke in a voice as sharp as a swallowed blade.
“...Stop this at once. I will file a formal protest over your conduct today.”
Mamon offered no reply and climbed onto the horse behind Johan.
“Hyah!”
The two immediately headed for the royal palace.
The royal capital of Arterium was known as the City That Never Sleeps.
Even at night, it remained as bright as midday.
Lights filled every street, and crowds could be found wherever one went.
For a demon, the capital was an exceedingly difficult city in which to operate.
Things were not much different for a witch.
Ilea hovered above the capital, concealing her presence as she watched the streets below.
“...It’s harder to find an opportunity than I expected.”
Her gaze remained fixed on a warhorse galloping through the streets.
Two people rode upon it.
Johan and the knight.
Verdan and Mamon.
Ilea needed to ambush them.
But finding the right moment was proving difficult.
There were far too many witnesses.
While she was struggling to find an opportunity, an eerie voice echoed through the air.
“I’ll give you a hand.”
Mapheltan emerged from the darkness.
Ilea looked worried.
“Won’t it be dangerous? Will you be all right?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll only draw their attention for a moment.”
Immediately afterward, Mapheltan vanished.
His presence erupted on the ground below.
The streets were engulfed in dense darkness.
People screamed.
The sudden release of demonic energy sent everyone into a panic.
The attack on the royal capital remained vivid in their memories.
That hell might be repeated once again.
The commotion rapidly spread.
Even amid the chaos, the warhorse continued charging forward without hesitation.
Ilea smiled.
“This should be enough.”
The crowds filling the street scattered in every direction.
Not a soul remained near the galloping warhorse.
Ilea immediately descended toward the ground.
A cluster of blue light fell like a shooting star.
The startled warhorse reared, raising its forelegs.
Mamon seized the reins and struggled to bring the horse under control.
“Whoa! Whoa!”
Johan was thrown from the saddle by the sudden impact.
Ilea spoke to him.
“Hide yourself for a while.”
After calming the horse, Mamon drew his sword from atop the saddle.
“Who are you? Reveal yourself!”
Ilea smiled gently.
“From now on, I’m Johan. You can go to the palace with me.”
The space surrounding her suddenly rippled.
Ilea’s appearance transformed in an instant.
She had become Johan.
Mamon recoiled in shock.
“A-A mage!”
The false Johan—Ilea—snapped her fingers.
A small magical formula appeared above Mamon’s head.
It was a short-term memory-erasure spell—the same magic she had previously used on Shaperia to erase a day’s worth of memories.
Mamon’s eyes turned dull.
Johan immediately climbed onto his warhorse.
Then she dispelled the magic.
Mamon regained his senses.
He looked around with a dazed expression.
His head throbbed.
Johan spoke.
“Why did you suddenly stop?”
Mamon could not remember the reason.
After remaining frozen for a moment, he grasped the reins again.
“Hyah!”
Still overcome by a strange sensation, he resumed his journey to the royal palace.
***
The grand hall of the royal palace.
King Roderick Artelga reclined upon the throne as he looked down at his ministers.
Many people had gathered, yet the grand hall was deathly silent.
No one dared to speak.
The pressure emanating from the King was immense.
Roderick’s demeanor had changed considerably.
The foolish and timid king was nowhere to be found.
Wearing a weary expression like a true monarch, Roderick gazed imperiously over everyone present.
The public was not yet aware of this change.
Only the nobles of the royalist faction had personally experienced the King’s strange behavior.
Every minister gathered in the hall belonged to the royalist faction.
Amid the silence, the voice of a palace guard echoed throughout the chamber.
“The Watcher of Narak, Baron Johan von Myatro, enters the royal palace!”
The enormous doors to the grand hall slowly opened.
Dressed in formal attire, Johan entered and walked across the red carpet.
He knelt on one knee before the throne.
“Johan von Myatro greets His Majesty, the great King.”
Roderick gazed at Johan with disinterested eyes before turning toward Sir Mamon.
Mamon gave the King a hand signal.
Johan is an impostor.
That was what he was telling him.
The King’s lips twisted into a smile.
He slowly addressed Johan.
“Despite your young age, I acknowledged your usefulness and allowed you to become the head of a noble house and a pillar supporting this kingdom. Why, then, did you neglect your duty?”
He was criticizing Johan for failing to seek a royal audience.
Johan replied calmly.
“I heard of Your Majesty’s illness and judged that it would be difficult to obtain an audience. This subject was shortsighted and foolish. I humbly ask that Your Majesty forgive me with your boundless generosity.”
The King raised the corners of his mouth in a sly smile.
“Very well. I will say no more about that particular matter. No, there is no reason for me to converse with the likes of you at all.”
The moment he finished speaking, murmurs spread throughout the grand hall.
Even a king could not address the head of a Council house in such a manner.
Roderick’s words went beyond discourtesy and amounted to outright humiliation.
One of the ministers spoke.
“...Your Majesty, please calm yourself. The Watcher of Narak is still young and merely unfamiliar with proper protocol. He surely did not intend to insult Your Majesty.”
The King shook his head.
“That man is not the Watcher of Narak. Moreover, the true Watcher is still insulting me from wherever he is hiding.”
“Your Majesty, what in the world do you mean by—”
The King abruptly cut the minister off.
“I shall show you the evidence.”
He gestured with one hand.
Mamon strode toward Johan and spoke.
“Verdan, reveal your true form.”
Mamon seized Johan by the hair.
Then he violently pulled at the skin of his face.
Nothing happened.
Johan’s skin merely turned bright red.
Every minister gathered in the hall stared in horror.
Mamon also appeared flustered.
“W-Why isn’t it...?”
No matter how hard he pulled at Johan’s skin, the Schemer authority did not come undone.
The ministers shouted.
“What is the meaning of this atrocity within the sacred grand hall?!”
“Stop this at once!”
“Sir Mamon! Apologize to the Watcher immediately!”
The King stared intently at Mamon.
“Mamon, what is going on?”
“Th-That is...”
Johan spoke with a composed expression.
“Your Majesty, are you prepared to bear responsibility for this?”
The King frowned.
“What did you say?”
Johan’s gaze pierced through Roderick.
“I can see Your Majesty’s shadow. What exactly are you harboring within it?”
To the eyes of Johan—or rather, the witch—the shadow Roderick had concealed was laid completely bare.
Roderick was harboring a pitch-black entity within himself.
Johan—Ilea—smiled with her eyes.
‘Johan, it seems the situation is turning in your favor.’