SHV 07

Episode 7

The Abandoned City (1)

The rain was falling even harder.

In the midst of it, Nucky silently observed me without saying a word.

“Why are you asking?”

Nucky’s tone was sharp, almost hostile.

I hesitated over how to respond. If I said that a map had appeared that others couldn’t see and the location was marked on it, I’d be treated like a madman.

“It’s personal curiosity.”

“Is it related to the royalist faction, and that’s why you can’t speak honestly?”

Nucky’s suspicious gaze pierced through the rain and landed on me.

But what did a city shown on the map of power have to do with the royalists?

Trying to figure out what Nucky meant, I racked my brain through the novel’s contents.

At that moment, Nucky pulled a dagger from his pocket and pointed it at my neck.

“You’d better speak properly. What are you to the royalists?”

Nucky asked, his eyes flashing fiercely.

I simply looked at him in silence. Judging by his unusual reaction, it was clear that the seven cities I mentioned were deeply connected to the royalist faction.

“I thought the editor-in-chief was supposed to be smart, but I guess not.”

I let my disappointment show.

Nucky took great pride in his intelligence. He believed he alone could serve as the eyes and ears of the citizens and allow them to see the world clearly—this was the philosophy behind his newspaper The Citizens’ Gaze.

Some people called him an arrogant fantasist. Whenever that happened, Nucky used his weapon—his newspaper—to mercilessly attack them. He was lenient toward those he attacked, but utterly unforgiving toward anyone who attacked him.

“What did you say? Are you saying I’m not smart?”

Just as expected—his petty personality was exactly as I had written it.

“Do you think I would come to meet you without first understanding your personality?”

I spoke as Nucky seethed with anger. He slowly withdrew the dagger from my neck, exhaling roughly while staring at me.

“I don’t know what’s in those seven cities. I don’t know what they have to do with the royalists. But if I did, I wouldn’t be asking someone who despises them so much. I’m not a pervert—what would I gain from provoking a journalist like you?”

Nucky bit his lip after hearing me. With just a little thought, he could have realized it—but he hadn’t. He seemed embarrassed by his own impulsive outburst.

“I apologize for my rudeness.”

He sheathed the dagger and bowed slightly, offering his apology as formally as he could.

I nodded and accepted it. I didn’t like being indebted to others, but I didn’t mind placing that burden on someone else. Especially Nucky Rilend.

“Then may I hear the answer to my question?”

“The seven cities are places where early churches dedicated to the Primordial God, YHWH, were established. Their bishops and mages mostly belong to the royalist faction.”

YHWH referred to the first god said to have descended upon this land. In the ancient language, it meant “I am that I am,” and people believed YHWH had created everything in the world.

The mention of both churches and mages together was because all magic was considered a borrowing of power from YHWH or his children. Since all nature originated from YHWH, mana was believed to be the breath of God itself.

So if all seven cities on the “Map of Power” contained early churches, then everything related to “power” must be tied to YHWH. Then did the “clergy recruitment” mentioned in the mission refer not to ordinary priests, but those inside these churches?

It wasn’t certain—but it seemed more plausible.

“Which churches are not affiliated with the royalists?”

Nucky had used the word “mostly.” That meant not all churches belonged to them.

“The very first one, Tillong, is not affiliated with the royalists. Nor does it belong to the citizen faction.”

“Then which side is it on?”

Nucky looked around after the question. The rain was intensifying, and the river beside us was rising rapidly.

“How about we move somewhere else? Since I was rude earlier, let me show you the newspaper office. It’s a place I’ve never revealed to anyone.”

Nucky said this as if offering a favor.

I readily accepted. Staying out in the winter rain would only guarantee a cold.

Clack!

Anton was playing billiards.

Behind him, a terrified, wet Tonali watched him.

“Do you know how to play billiards?”

Anton asked after failing to score.

“N-no, I’ve never tried.”

“Then you’ve wasted half your life.”

The man playing with Anton chuckled at his words.

“How about a glass of wine? Or whiskey? Whiskey is low-class liquor drunk by the Bronn Kingdom’s fools, but to each their own.”

“I-I’m fine.”

“Nonsense. You look like you forced yourself to come here. Wouldn’t it be unfair if you couldn’t even drink? If you don’t have a preference, I’ll give you wine. Tilios is famous for its wine.”

Anton snapped his fingers and ordered a maid to bring the finest wine.

Tonali could only watch silently as the situation unfolded. Anton continued playing billiards as if Tonali didn’t exist.

Thack!

The ivory ball struck sharply, filling the room with a crisp sound.

Tonali steadied his trembling breath and accepted the wine glass from the maid.

The red liquid inside shook violently, like an earthquake had struck. He raised the glass to his lips to calm himself.

At that moment—

Tick!

Anton’s shot went off course, handing the turn to his opponent.

“Billiards, Minister,” Anton said expressionlessly. “is a very delicate game. One mistake, and there’s no turning back.”

Tonali nearly choked on his wine, coughing violently.

Seeing this, Anton’s opponent burst out laughing.

“If it’s that good, you should’ve said so. I could’ve given you another glass. No need to spill it everywhere.”

Anton glanced at the disheveled Tonali.

“S-sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize for spilling wine.”

Even though Anton said it didn’t matter, Tonali was clearly terrified.

“So, what do you think?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean billiards. What do you think about the idea that one small mistake can be irreversible?”

Tonali froze completely.

“Was that too difficult a question?”

“N-no!”

“Then why do you always fall apart when I ask something?”

Tonali kept repeating “I’m sorry.”

“He’s really funny.”

The man playing billiards laughed for a long time, pointing at Tonali.

Tonali only bit his lip in silence.

Then the tip of a cue stick tapped his forehead.

“When it’s your turn, you need focus. Otherwise your opponent keeps attacking. Right?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Similar to life, don’t you think?”

“Yes! That’s right!”

Tonali, collapsed on the floor, answered mechanically without even removing the cue from his forehead.

“But you make a lot of mistakes.”

Anton pressed the cue harder against his forehead.

“I’m sorry! I won’t make mistakes again! Please—give me another chance!”

Terrified, Tonali begged desperately, grabbing Anton’s trousers.

“No, I think I trusted you too much.”

Anton calmly continued.

“I should be the one cleaning up your mistakes.”

At that moment, the other man suddenly drew a knife and rushed forward.

“Ugh…!”

Tonali’s throat was slit before he could even react. Blood poured out as he collapsed, flailing like a dying fish.

“Messy.”

Anton sighed, looking at the blood on his shoes.

“Sorry. Should’ve been more careful.”

The killer chuckled.

“Guess I’ll have someone clean it up. What a shame—it was a carpet I got from Pelenos.”

“You should’ve done this in the basement.”

“Too gangster-like.”

“How picky.”

Anton smiled faintly.

“The link is gone. Now we need to take back the turn we lost, right?”

Anton asked as he wiped his knife on Tonali’s clothes.

“Was it my turn?”

The man shook his head with a smile.

Anton lit a cigar, picked up his cue again, and the man carried the corpse out.

“Brother, where are we going?”

Orléans asked anxiously from the carriage.

“Tillong.”

“Tillong… that’s two hours from here. Why are we suddenly going there?”

“I want to go to the Tillong Church.”

Orléans’ eyes widened.

He began rambling about how dangerous it was, but I ignored him.

I was already decided.

Tillong was dangerous—I knew that from Nucky.

The Tilios Kingdom had suffered a civil war between the old and new religions about 80 years ago. Tillong became the center of the battlefield and was utterly destroyed.

But the kingdom never rebuilt it—more accurately, it lacked the funds.

So it was abandoned.

Outsiders poured into the ruined land, looting and killing. The state no longer protected it.

The citizens of Tillong believed their country had abandoned them. So they abandoned the country in return.

It became a lawless land ruled only by survival of the strongest.

“Tillong is full of criminals. Even if you’re skilled with the sword, wasn’t that just a hobby for you, brother?”

That caught my attention.

I didn’t remember writing much about Karayan’s combat ability.

Then I recalled a line I had written:

“Alone, Karayan stepped over the corpses before him, walking toward where Christian stood. Blood dripped endlessly from the sword in his hand…”

It must have been interpreted as swordsmanship skill.

Bang!