In the silence, the old knight Clark picked up several leather scrolls and booklets stacked on the table beside Duke Jiemeld’s bed and placed them before Gilbert and the others.
“These are documents that are typically kept under lock and key during peacetime, but I have records here. The disclosure is at your command, Your Excellency. You may examine them later.”
Duke Jiemeld nodded, casting his gaze upon the scrolls and booklets, exhaling deeply.
“Even if they are records of the nation, I cannot guarantee that everything written within is the truth. Jiemeld has long been a nation that values its pride, and as such, it is possible that inconvenient facts have been distorted in the records… As it stands, the official records of Jiemeld only state that the Holy Sword was lost, and that its cause was the death of the designated Sorcerer.”
“Is it truly unclear what happened?” Priest Sidney asked, his expression stern.
In response, old knight Clark retrieved a few more booklets and stacked them together.
“These are the diaries of the commander of the knights and the chief attendant who served Jiemeld at that time. The facts visible to them differ based on their positions, but… there are events common to all that can be inferred.”
Duke Jiemeld gazed into the distance once more.
“Great power in human hands casts a dark shadow, especially when its brilliance and the praise it receives are at their peak. That shadow can warp the hearts of those who have diligently honed their skills and fought with pride day after day. Conversely, those who wield great power attract others, drawing forth various desires. The human heart can sometimes be overwhelmed by uncontrollable emotions, leading to tragedy…”
After the Duke’s soliloquy, old knight Clark continued.
“Accurate information has been concealed, and over a century has passed with only fragmented tales being passed down. This is merely speculation… The princess of that time fell in love with the hero who possessed the Holy Sword. Some among the nobility became intoxicated by that power. Meanwhile, as admiration was directed solely at one person, there were knights who felt resentment towards the hero, hidden in the shadows. These feelings intertwined and eventually led to the death of a girl who was close to the hero.”
Lionel, who had been quietly listening, paused before asking, “Could that past be related to the current incident?”
Duke Jiemeld grimaced in pain, meeting Lionel’s gaze.
“I believed I was teaching Dylan the ancient pride of Jiemeld, nurturing him. However, as my son learned about Jiemeld’s past, he became warped in an unexpected direction.”
The mention of Dylan Agreas Jiemeld made Lionel tense.
“Excessive pride can sometimes breed arrogance, and a skewed sense of justice can turn into violence… eventually leading to blind faith. Dylan harbors hatred for the Goddess’s Power. That is what has led our Jiemeld to ruin…”
Priest Sidney furrowed his brow and raised his voice. “How could that lead to a scheme to unleash Undead Beasts upon the nation…?!”
Duke Jiemeld, propped up in bed, clenched the wrinkled hand resting on his lap into the sheets.
“The discovery of weakened mutated Undead Beasts further twisted Dylan’s blind faith… He believes that ‘an army of Undead, equal in all respects, will truly bring about peace.'”
Lionel furrowed his brow. “Surely, he doesn’t intend to use that Undead Slime to actually turn people into Undead…?”
“He believes that if he covers the Royal Capital and waits three months, both the citizens and knights will become Undead without dying. The changes from within the flesh will go unnoticed even by the Clergy,” the Duke replied.
Lionel and Sidney gasped in shock.
“…This is bad. We must re-examine the knights we rescued the other day. We cannot discern the signs of Undead transformation that are not visible on the surface.”
With that, Sidney hurried to send the Clergy to the knights, while he approached Duke Jiemeld, seeking permission to examine his throat. However, his expression remained grave.
“…What should we do? If they haven’t transformed to the surface yet, purification should still be possible…”
Watching this scene unfold, Lionel exhaled as he tried to organize his thoughts.
“…The Royal Capital should have the Holy Sword and Holy Knights. Given what we’ve discussed, it’s possible that they have already set their plans in motion…”
Gilbert noticed that Flora, standing beside him, was trembling slightly. Was it the horror of the tale they had just heard, the mention of the Holy Knights, or perhaps Lionel’s final concern about the Holy Knights in the Royal Capital?
In silence, after a moment of contemplation, he placed a hand on Flora’s shoulder and held her hand. The hand that returned his grip was still trembling.
—That scoundrel who abandoned Miss Flora… I can’t stand him. But I don’t want any more sorrow or worry to linger in her heart.
With that thought in mind, he tightened his grip on the hand he held and then grasped the handle of his Battle Axe with his other hand.