Chapter 87: Swallowing Sorrow

“Nighttime in the city really does feel different.”

Just as Grandmaster had mentioned, Bolten at night was far more dazzling than expected. Not only were there more people than during the day, but plenty of outsiders like themselves were mixed into the crowd as well.

They didn’t seem like ordinary tourists with pure intentions. Perhaps they were here merely for gambling or drinking, but who knew what went on deeper in the alleys.

“It’s easy enough to hide among so many people, but we haven’t the faintest idea where to head.”

Grandmaster muttered this while glaring at a man who bumped her shoulder as he passed.

“Usually, in situations like this, we’d try a tavern—”

They planned to slip into a busy bar, gauge the atmosphere, maybe tip the owner a bit to ask about any mercenary groups…

Bam!

“You son of a bitch—!”

A commotion rose from one side of the street—people cheering, whistling, and laughing. It seemed a fight had broken out, but unlike other cities, Bolten gave the strong impression of welcoming such chaos.

“Hmm, how boisterous.”

“It’s downright irrational.”

Curious onlookers swarmed around to watch. One man, his eyes bloodshot, was wildly brandishing a liquor bottle, presumably drunk out of his mind. The man who’d just been hit stood up, clutching his head, bracing himself for more.

“Sloppy. If he swings like that, even someone trying to get hit wouldn’t get hit.”

“Are you going to teach them a lesson even here?”

“It’s a habit of mine.”

The drunkard reeled as he flailed his bottle, showing no signs of actually connecting a blow. Growing furious, he hurled the bottle to the ground and shouted:

“Fuck! You damn pen bastards! What the hell are you staring at? Get lost!”

“Hahaha! Look how pissed that idiot is!”

“If you’re wasted, go sleep it off somewhere else, old man!”

“Oh ho? Things are really going off the rails.”

“What a pathetic sight! Ugh!”

It was as if they were enjoying a play. They mocked the drunkard who hurled insults at them. When everyone ganged up on him with their jeers, he finally snapped and roared back:

“Do you know who I am?! I’m the son of Baron Gelliats! How dare you lowly commoners—!”

“A noble?”

“Probably the youngest son. Even if he’s a noble, if he’s just the baron’s youngest, it’s unlikely he’s treated with much respect.”

His shabby clothes hardly looked like those of anyone influential, and the crowd, well aware of that, jeered even harder. The panting drunkard lifted his middle finger to the throng.

“They say a damned lowborn rules this city, and now it’s clear how pathetic you people are! You brainless vermin! Don’t expect me to come back here again! Under a baron who has no decen—!”

Unfortunately, he never got to finish.

Because a rock flew out of nowhere and cracked him square in the head.

Thudd!

“Kuh—ugh?!”

While he staggered, another person rushed in and knocked him flat. And in the next instant, a group assault began.

“You bastard! How dare you speak Baron Bolten’s name so carelessly!”

“He’s our hero, you fucker!”

“Baron Bolten is nothing like a halfwit bastard like you!”

Bam! Bam! Bam!

It was chaos—no one could tell who was striking where, who was breaking what, or who might have delivered the killing blow in that frenzy of violence and madness.

The sudden shift in atmosphere was so fanatical that calling them zealots would not have been an overstatement.

By the time the drunkard’s screams were swallowed up by the violence, the crowd had silently dispersed and vanished into the city.

“Tsk.”

Isaac clicked his tongue. The corpse was practically half-minced.

“How barbaric,”

murmured Grandmaster calmly. Isaac had heard rumors of Bolten’s vicious reputation, but never imagined such brazen acts happened out in the open.

‘They’ve been taught cruelty from an early age.’

From small children to the elderly, everyone had joined in on the violence, all because Baron Bolten had been insulted.

“So, should we call him a benevolent ruler for this?”

“……”

“Their loyalty is unreal. Isn’t it practically a religion?”

“It’s complicated.”

You couldn’t exactly call it a good domain when open murder through mob violence occurred so casually. But the populace’s loyalty was remarkable—especially in a place like Bolten, which spoke volumes about the baron’s extraordinary power over them.

“Bolten truly is a bizarre place.”

To think that Milli had once lived in a place like this…

‘Perhaps Bolten wasn’t like this back when Milli was here.’

Considering the Bolten Revolution erupted while Milli was working in Helmut, the territory might have been different before that.

Just then, men dressed in black appeared beside the corpse. At first, it looked like they might be performing last rites, but instead they shoved the body unceremoniously into a sack, as though merely cleaning up, and began wiping away the blood pooled on the ground.

“What the hell are those guys?”

Judging by how bystanders were ignoring them as if they were invisible, this must be a familiar sight in Bolten.

“My, how astonishing. Every step we take in this land, something interesting happens. There’s no chance to get bored at all.”

‘She’s angry,’ thought Isaac.

Grandmaster’s voice had taken on a sharp edge—she’d been incensed ever since the drunkard started bellowing. Had Isaac not been with her, given their current circumstances, she’d have probably acted sooner.

Isaac had no chance to stop her. She stepped in and grabbed the wrist of the man hoisting the body bag over his shoulder, issuing a clear warning:

“Where are you rushing off to? Shouldn’t the child at least let his parents see him before he goes?”

“…?”

“He said he was the son of Baron Gelliats. So he’s hardly an unidentifiable corpse. His condition might be unsightly, but at the very least, he should say farewell to his parents—”

The man tried to shake off Grandmaster’s hand, but he couldn’t overcome her grip and let out a pained groan.

“Ugh?!”

Grandmaster let out a sigh.

Still holding the man in her grip, she glanced at Isaac and asked:

“Is it better if we don’t get more involved than this? We did sneak out, after all.”

“Well, that’s what I was thinking…”

Grandmaster’s expression was anything but pleasant. As her former disciple, Isaac found it hard to ignore that look—the look of someone who’d just witnessed something they wished they hadn’t.

He had prepared many things for this situation. They’d had a plan to provoke Baron Bolten, fake their compliance, secretly leave the inn, and move on to the next goal. But now…

“Shall we just scrap everything?”

Isaac asked with a slight smile. When Grandmaster gave a small nod, he immediately threw away all the plans he’d worked so hard to make.

“If we’re going to do this, might as well do it thoroughly.”

“That suits my life perfectly. I’ve always liked cutting down my enemies for good.”

“I’ll tell Princess how foolish I was to think you’d ever settle for a stealthy approach.”

“I’ve done my best, you know. Even now, those watchers probably think I’m somewhere groaning under your heel.”

Thud!

With a flick of her wrist, Grandmaster twisted the arm of the man carrying the corpse, slamming him to the ground. Though it was just one fluid motion, he spun in midair before crashing down and passing out cold.

All eyes fell upon them once more.

‘I guess it was worth picking up that trick earlier.’

With a self-mocking smirk, Isaac used the same line of magic words he’d gleaned from the drunkard’s theatrics to address the gathering crowd:

“I am Baron Logan of the Kingdom! I will have everyone involved in the murder just now arrested! And I shall hold Baron Bolten to account for this disgraceful excuse for city ‘order!’”

“Ho.”

Grandmaster curved her lips into a faint smile.

In a flash, the people around them once again grew wild with fervor—clenching their teeth, exhaling heavy, ragged breaths, closing in on the two.

“What has the kingdom ever done for us?!”

“Baron? A baron, you say?! You dare claim to be on the same level as our Baron Bolten?!”

“You scum from the kingdom! You opportunistic bastards! You’re the worst—you abandoned us!”

“The Revolution! You know nothing of the hardships of that day! How dare you come to steal the peace we fought for!”

It was obvious the verbal barrage would soon turn violent.

Yet Isaac, who had provoked them, remained calm. Perhaps it looked a bit arrogant. But to him, their fury—though intense—felt shallow. Like waves with no real depth.

“Please don’t kill them.”

“Hmm? You want to spare them because they’re, what—civilians?”

“They could be Milli’s family members.”

“Huh.”

He wasn’t really concerned for the citizens themselves; he just worried that one of them might be related to Milli.

The assault began in an instant.

Some tourists in the crowd shrank back, alarmed. But the people of Bolten, teeth bared, charged headlong at the two.

‘At least it’s easy to tell who’s who.’

Isaac simply drove his fist into the jaw of the first man who came rushing in.

Bang!

The man toppled backward, knocked out instantly. Others came at him one by one, and he calmly subdued them all.

‘A cheap sort of satisfaction.’

He felt the difference in who he had become.

In his past life, he couldn’t have lasted a minute against even a single grown man, always the one getting beaten. But now…

He read their movements, evaded, struck—remaining composed the entire time.

‘Until now, I was always the one who had to challenge others.’

Now that the roles were reversed, it gave him a new perspective—an experience that left a powerful impression.

Amidst subduing wave after wave of attackers:

“How could—”

A faint sob escaped Grandmaster.

“—this be so vile?”

Such words typically conveyed disgust. But from Grandmaster’s tone came sorrow.

“Stop, all of you.”

She gently tripped an oncoming child wielding a rock, causing them to tumble. Letting out a pained sigh, she continued,

“It’s almost as if… what they said is true.”

She looked like she wanted to deny every bit of the horrifying scene in front of her. Grandmaster swallowed her tears with great effort.

– – The End of The Chapter – –

 

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