Chapter 88: Another History

“B-Baron Bolten! There’s a disturbance in the city—!”

Hearing the report, Baron Bolten nodded calmly.

Ever since he’d received word from his watchers that Baron Logan was staying at an inn with a woman, he’d had a bad feeling.

‘Baron Logan was never someone to be taken lightly.’

He was the same man who’d cut down Arandel Helmut.

It was impossible to believe he’d come all this way just to spend a day in an inn with a woman.

“I’ll head out at once.”

Baron Bolten immediately changed clothes.

His attire, reminiscent of a hunter, was what he used to wear back in the days when he led the revolution.

The chilly night air greeted him.

The revolution had also taken place in air just like this.

[Let’s goooo! Wipe them ouuuut!]

[Hand over the drugs, you bastards!]

[We want freedom! Aah! Only freedom!]

The ideals he once held close to his heart still remained there.

[Thereeeee! There! That’s it!]

[It’s mine! I said it’s mine! All of you, back off!]

[Fucking druggie bastards! I’m different from you! I’m the tragic one ruined by art and literature—!]

After the revolution succeeded, the wild shouts of the jubilant people still echoed in his ears.

-Stop! If we continue like this, we’ll all be destroyed!

We must protect our Bolten!

I’ll handle the distribution! So please, stop! All of us—!

And yet, after everything he’d achieved, he now realized he was no more than a hypocrite.

You can all do the drugs for free, in total equality! I will take responsibility!

Following the success of the revolution—

He’d once devoted himself to curbing the runaway madness and chaos, and that old voice of his still filled him with loathing.

Even if he were to return to the past, Could he really propose a better solution?

‘I never carried these ideals hoping for such a future.’

Unable to find any answers even now, Baron Bolten was merely prolonging the life of this dying land.

“Tell the Bellingwaltz Mercenaries to leave at once.”

With those last words—passing along a message for the mercenaries he’d hidden at his patreons’ request—He headed straight into the city.

It seemed clear that tonight would bring another storm to Bolten.

****

By the time—

“Gaaaahk!”

“It hurts….”

“S-Save me…”

—there were more people groaning on the ground than there were people rushing forward to attack.

Finally, the crowd began to hesitate, shuffling backward. Some were paralyzed by fear, while others still refused to give up.

They waited for any opening, some even exchanging glances to coordinate an attack with those around them.

“Cease this at once. No matter how much you struggle, nothing will change.”

In a voice unusually subdued, the Grandmaster issued a warning.

Under the moonlit sky, the Grandmaster took a step forward and asked them:

“What could have driven you to such acts? Loyalty is supposed to be noble, or so I once believed. But seeing you all, I find myself wavering.”

“ … ”

“Please, do not shake me with such ugliness.”

She wasn’t addressing just the people of Bolten.

‘I am torn between the Transcendents and humanity.’

She would never side with the Transcendents, yet she found it agonizing to support the humans wholeheartedly.

Isaac couldn’t allow this to continue.

Just as he was about to intervene—

“Baron Bolten is here!”

“Aah! Baron Bolten!”

“He’s the hero of Bolten!”

“Punish these vile scoundrels!”

“Don’t let the kingdom’s trash defile our land!”

Even without anyone guiding them, the mob naturally parted to either side.

Through the opened path, Baron Bolten approached.

Instead of the noble attire he’d worn earlier that day, he was dressed as if going on a hunt—leather clothing trimmed with fur, a bow slung over his shoulder, and an axe swaying at his hip.

It was a perfect match for that first impression Isaac had of him—a hunting dog.

“That suits you much better, Baron Bolten.”

“Let’s go together. Baron Logan mentioned that you were looking for the family of Milli Marceau. I’ve found them.”

He got straight to the point, revealing his direct nature.

Yet somehow, it also felt like he was diverting the conversation.

“This situation seems to require an explanation,” Isaac said, gesturing at the sack of corpses and the deranged townspeople.

Baron Bolten sighed and responded, “I’ll explain. Let’s leave this place.”

He cast his gaze over the crowd. At once, they drew back again, bowing and bidding him farewell. It bordered on fanaticism.

“Let’s go,” he repeated.

Staying any longer might cause the Grandmaster to change in some unforeseen way.

Isaac suddenly felt it was best to get out of there immediately.

“….”

Even as Isaac led her away,

The Grandmaster couldn’t help but cast an occasional glance back at the people who had overturned them just moments before.

* * *

Back at the Baron’s Mansion

In the dark room, Baron Bolten lights a single candle and slowly gazes out the window.

His eyes convey a complicated mix of emotions, as if he needs a moment before he can put them into words.

You’d think he might light a cigarette, but

Baron Bolten doesn’t even touch one. He simply lets out a sigh.

“Bolten is a city of addicts.”

“…….”

Isaac isn’t particularly surprised.

He’d already encountered plenty of people high on something while fighting. They all looked about the same to him, give or take a few differences.

“Liquor, gambling, women—those are just extras. In the end, drugs matter most of all. I supply them with drugs on a regular basis.”

“You know full well that drugs are illegal under the kingdom’s law.”

“Without them, Bolten would’ve collapsed long ago.”

It was practically an admission of criminal activity.

But Baron Bolten simply clenched his jaw and continued.

“This city…everything starts and ends with drugs. The underworld rebellion? It happened because the kingdom tried to clean up Bolten’s back alleys. The underworld’s biggest business was dealing drugs.”

“The revolution I led? That was only possible because the underworld that had taken control of Bolten had jacked up drug prices beyond reason.”

“And the only reason this city still holds together? Because I provide the drugs free of charge.”

On the flip side,

Because the city’s supply of drugs came directly from him, every major dealer had been wiped out.

Now it made sense why the people showed such blind loyalty to Baron Bolten.

Addicts desperate for their free fix would do anything to protect him. To them, he was the guardian of their paradise, the one who kept the city going.

“Do you understand? That’s what Bolten is. A precarious place that seems on the verge of crumbling at any moment.”

Baron Bolten slowly turns around, then speaks to Isaac with startling calm.

“Even so, I continue to hold Bolten together. Because I believe it’s my responsibility.”

Isaac doesn’t know what sort of past the baron carries.

It’s hard to grasp why he’s so determined to keep Bolten alive, even in such a twisted form.

But one thing is certain:

He’s not the kind of man who wavers easily.

Everyone has their story.

Everyone has their reasons.

Just as Isaac has his secret of returning to the past, Baron Bolten must also have a reason he can’t give up on this land.

Yet to outsiders, it might look like mere stubbornness.

“So you sought to assassinate the princess, with the backing of your patreons?”

“…….”

Baron Bolten’s eyes tremble slightly.

He’d intended to gloss over Bolten’s dark secrets. After all, Isaac was supposedly here just to find the family of a woman named Milli.

“As I suspected, you weren’t here merely to track down a friend’s family.”

His tone shifts, dropping to a low murmur.

At some point, his hand has come to rest on the axe at his waist.

“We’re running out of drugs.”

“…….”

“People want more and more, but the warehouse I’ve been using is nearly empty.”

He had seized a massive supply of narcotics during the revolution, when he eradicated the drug lords.

Vast though it was, it wasn’t infinite.

“And that’s when they showed up. They called themselves my patreons…offering to supply me with drugs.”

His words come faster and faster.

A fierce devotion—bordering on obsession—burns in his eyes. For the sake of the city he’s lived in all his life, he even contemplated assassinating the kingdom’s princess.

It implies his mind was never operating under normal logic from the start.

Sling!

An axe was drawn.

“Isn’t it I who’ve been holding together this land the kingdom abandoned?!”

He must have thought they were unarmed and couldn’t stop his axe, but he chose the wrong opponent.

The Grandmaster, who’d been listening quietly from behind, acted immediately.

Ugh!

With a perfectly extended kick, the Grandmaster struck the charging Baron Bolten right in the abdomen.

He tumbled backward, rolling head over heels.

No matter that he’d been a seasoned revolutionary warrior—

He was up against someone who possessed skill on a wholly different level.

It was akin to an adult toying with a child.

“It was nothing but self-gratification, and you knew it. The outcome was inevitable from the start.”

Coldly put, Baron Bolten was never going to keep Bolten standing for long.

It was no different from force-feeding medicine to a terminal patient to keep them alive.

Even if they keep breathing, they’re rotting from within all the same.

“Grrgh!”

Clutching at the spot where he’d been hit, Baron Bolten raised his head.

“You think I didn’t know it was the end?! As wretched as it may be, as broken as it may become, I intended to keep Bolten alive for as long as possible—take responsibility—!”

“Stop pretending to be a martyr.”

“...!”

“You’re just a hypocrite. I have no interest in whatever sob story you’re selling.”

Staggering to his feet, Baron Bolten forced the corners of his trembling mouth into a bitter smile.

“Would you have chosen differently had you heard the screams of that day?! That so-called revolution! The whole city nearly died! If I—I hadn’t taken responsibility and promised them a supply of drugs—!”

“Madness was piled atop madness. The revolutionaries were on the verge of turning into rebels all over again! I was holding their leash—I stopped them—!”

Baron Bolten’s voice quavered with rage and tears glistened in his eyes.

The man who had seemed as steady as a hunting hound looked now as if he might collapse at any moment, his usefulness spent.

“…Yes, you’re right.”

He let out a sigh as bitter as stale smoke.

“I knew it was hypocrisy.”

Yet—

“I just pretended not to, and so I took responsibility—watching them die, one by one.”

Baron Bolten swung his axe wide.

He charged at the Grandmaster one more time but collapsed before he could even make contact.

Bam!

“Khrrrgh!”

A moan escaped, choked with tears.

“If I die now…?! If I die here, Bolten will fall into chaos again! The entire city is nothing but a giant opium den!”

“…….”

“You’ve got exactly two choices. Kill me here and watch Bolten revert to riots—where hundreds will die. Or—”

Or let them remain drugged, accept a quiet demise in this twisted existence.

“…….”

Isaac approached the baron slowly.

He might not fully grasp what outcome his decision would bring, how heavy the consequences could be.

But—

With war against the Transcendents looming, there was no room for hesitation.

The razor-sharp axe found its way into Isaac’s hand. Baron Bolten looked up at it, clenching his teeth, giving his final farewell.

“Welcome… to damned Bolten.”

Crunch!

The axe blade mercilessly bit into its owner’s neck.

As Baron Bolten’s head rolled across the floor, Isaac caught his breath and spoke.

“Would you bring me my sword?”

“…It will not be easy.”

“It’s fine. I’ll manage.”

With that, the Grandmaster slowly turned away.

No one knew yet how this chaos would conclude—

‘This is going to be difficult.’

But for now, following Isaac’s request, the Grandmaster headed back to the inn.

And so, Bolten began to churn once more.

The “Bolten Rebellion” arose when the underworld, believing the kingdom’s crackdown made drug trafficking impossible, seized the city.

Then came the “Bolten Revolution” when citizens took the city back after the underworld hiked drug prices far too high.

And finally—

Baron Logan executed Drian Belfort, known as Baron Bolten, on the spot for his involvement in the “attempted assassination of the princess.” Upon learning of Drian Belfort’s death, the citizens revolted once again.

Baron Logan subdued them—

And soon, what would later be called the “Bolten Massacre” was about to unfold.

– – The End of The Chapter – –

 

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