Chapter 13

“This can’t be right…”

It was a trick. It had to be. Yet, after spending hours walking around, Neia couldn’t figure out what the trick was.

Hoburns’ western quarter may as well have been a different world compared to the city’s southern and eastern districts. It hadn’t quite returned to normal, yet, but the sense of growing desperation that Neia remembered when she last visited to buy a pair of straw sandals may as well have been her imagination. As Saye noted, the people looked relatively healthy and content with their situation. Not only that, the attitude of the residents was markedly strange.

Strange as far as royalist-managed cities and towns in the north went, anyway. The pressure that the royalists applied through the enforcement of their policies created a distinct change in people that was impossible to miss. They grew more protective of themselves and their families, becoming closed and suspicious of everyone else. Moral boundaries slowly crumbled away, and wrong turned into right or at least necessary.

In short, the western quarter was healing; its citizens returning to what was considered normal behaviour in the Holy Kingdom of Roble. While it was heartening to see that there was hope for those who had suffered under royalist rule, something else about it bothered her that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“It’s like you want to see them suffer,” Saye said.

“No, it’s not that,” Neia replied. “It’s–”

A patrol appeared around a corner and turned toward them. Neia and Saye ducked into the doorway of a shop to let them by. Neia clutched her bow tightly as they eyed her in passing. Saye punched her in the arm.

“Ow!” Neia cried and rubbed her arm, “What was that for?”

The Bard didn’t reply until the patrol disappeared behind the bend of the street.

“Do you know what you look like? A nervous girl in a budget bandit mask clutching a weapon. You’re lucky you’re in Roble – anywhere else and they’d have brought you in for questioning.”

“It’s not budget,” Neia protested, lowering her bow. “Well, maybe it is. Anyway, I think there’s something wrong with this place.”

They resumed their walk down the street. Men and women smiled and greeted Saye; they actively avoided eye contact with Neia.

“You’re just thinking that because of the way people are treating you.”

“I-I’m used to it,” Neia replied, “so it’s not that. I can’t help but think that the woman from the eastern quarter was right. This is all some kind of trick by House Restelo.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s House Restelo,” Neia said. “What’s weird is that you don’t find this weird. Most of the city is suffering and this place is just fine. Unlike the Prime Estates or the Water Gardens, there’s no reason for it to be.”

Saye looked pointedly at the groups of conservative retainers crowding the street. Many were chatting amicably with the locals as they browsed the shops and market stands.

“It should be because of that, right? They’re trying to get in good with the conservatives.”

“I still can’t believe that the conservatives would overlook House Restelo’s past,” Neia said. “The penalty for murder is supposed to be death!”

“For commoners, maybe,” Saye said.

“It’s even worse for Nobles,” Neia told her. “A scandal like that could ruin their houses.”

“That’s different…” The Bard frowned.

They reached the market plaza in the centre of the western quarter, where the aromas of food being prepared for lunch wafted in the wind. It was yet another difference from the other parts of the city: the people here could actually afford to sell food without dying of starvation.

“What do you mean by ‘different’?” Neia asked.

“In other countries,” Saye said, “it’s usually impossible for normal people to pin crimes on Nobles. They’re mostly untouchable because they’re both the lawmakers and enforcers in their own fiefs, and they’re usually never dumb enough to have their deeds exposed to anyone that can do anything about them.”

“Really? I thought maybe Re-Estize was like that, but not other places.”

“Even the Empire is like that,” Saye said. “They’re sort of famous for deposing Nobles, but it’s only the Nobles that the Emperor decides he doesn’t like. He’s got a big list of reasons that he can pick from to get anyone in trouble for, plus he arbitrarily imposes laws that act like traps specifically for the people he wants to get rid of.”

That sounded like what any average aristocrat did. Unlike Roble and Re-Estize, however, it didn’t sound like there was anyone to keep Emperor Jircniv’s power in check.

“Furthermore,” the Bard continued, “the law isn’t equally accessible to everyone in practice. Those with the greatest command of the law gain the greatest benefits from it. The vast majority of people in the Empire can’t even read. They don’t even know what the laws are beyond some of the ones that directly affect their daily lives. Everything else is just some vague idea of what’s right and wrong. The Imperial Administration is just a faceless bureaucracy to the Empire’s citizens and imperial propaganda dictates what is and isn’t reality in Baharuth.”

“Well, it’s not like that here,” Neia told the Bard. “If people feel that they’ve been wronged, they can go to the Temples. Usually, it’s just through speaking with the local Priest, and the Priest reports the case to the Holy Order. The Holy Order’s judicial authority comes from the Crown, so it supersedes the authority of the Nobility.”

“Then how did the north get this bad?” Saye asked.

“Two reasons,” Neia answered. “You probably already know them from when we spoke to the authorities in Lloyds. The first is that the Crown is endorsing the actions of the nobility. Secondly, even if they wanted to do something about it, they’re so pitifully short-staffed that they can’t.”

As they watched the late afternoon crowds go about their business, Neia spotted a familiar face behind one of the stands. She and Saye joined the line for the stand, awaiting their turn to speak with its Merchant. Display cases lined with bracelets, rings, necklaces, and pieces of silverware glittered in the sunlight.

“I know I gave you some money,” Saye said, “but that doesn’t mean you can go and buy jewellery with it. I didn’t even know you liked jewellery.”

“Just because I don’t wear any doesn’t mean I don't like it,” Neia replied. “No, wait. The woman running the stand is someone from the Corps. I wanted to speak with her.”

When it came their turn, the Merchant gave them a blank stare.

“Hello, Mrs Urre,” Neia smiled.

“…Miss Baraja?”

“The same. I haven’t seen you since the victory celebrations.”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Mrs Urre said. “Things are busy now, especially. Was there something that caught your eye?”

“Ah, no. I just happened to spot you and thought I’d come and say hello.”

“Well, it’s good to see you too. If you don’t mind, though, I need to take care of my customers here.”

“O-Of course.”

Eh?

Mrs Urre didn’t spare her another look, turning to greet the armsman behind Neia with a smile. Neia walked away in befuddlement. Her treatment was drastically different from her reception from Corps members in Rimun or even Lloyds.

She absently made her way out of the plaza, back east along Fire Street. Something was definitely wrong.

“It’s too early to go back,” Saye noted.

“We’re not going back just yet,” Neai told the Bard. “I just wanted to check something over here…”

Neia examined the storefronts along their path, searching for a silversmith. When she found one, she peeked into the window, looking for Mister Urre.

“Has anyone told you that you have a unique talent for looking suspicious?” Saye asked.

“I just don’t want to interrupt anyone’s work if I don’t need to.”

She fell over with a shout when she turned her attention back to the window and found a face staring back at her. The men and women nearby stopped to stare. Red-faced, Neia dashed into the shop, nearly tripping on her bow in the process.

“Mister Urre,” she bobbed her head in greeting. “Good afternoon.”

“I thought a damn Rogue was peeking into the store,” Mister Urre said.

“Sorry,” Neia said. “I wasn’t sure whether I had the right shop or not.”

“What can I do for you, Miss Baraja?”

Like his wife, Mister Urre addressed Neia with a demeanour unlike any she had experienced elsewhere. The only thing that was clear was that the man was impatient to get back to work.

“I met your wife just now,” Neia said. “So I thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing.”

“Busy, with all that’s happened.”

“So I saw,” Neia said. “How has the Sorcerer King's wisdom helped you with that?”

“Not much, to be honest.”

Huh?

The man sighed at her unspoken reaction.

“Look, Miss Baraja,” he said. “What you talked about during the war made sense because we were fighting savages and worse. After the war, we returned to civilised society. All that strength we gained during the war didn’t matter much in our daily lives and we’re glad that it doesn’t.”

“You are?”

“Of course!” Mister Urre replied with a snort, “Months ago, you said that we must become strong or accept the justice of another. The latter was the obvious choice.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Neia frowned as her reasoning was turned upside down on her.

“Why would you say that the latter is the obvious choice?” She asked.

“Because,” Mister Urre answered, “put in different terms, becoming strong to uphold one’s justice is the exact same thing that savage tribes do. Might makes right. We’re better than that. What serves the people of the Holy Kingdom is the justice of the Holy Kingdom, not some barbaric notion of imposing what you want on others by force and calling it justice.”

“…but don’t you think that the justice of the Holy Kingdom has failed us?”

The silversmith regarded her with a puzzled look.

“What crazy nonsense is that?” He said, “We were facing powers beyond our reckoning back during the war. That doesn’t mean the Holy Kingdom’s justice ‘failed’. What you’re saying is as ludicrous as claiming that a tidal wave wiping out a village is a failure of the Holy Kingdom’s justice. Just because things didn’t work out nicely back then doesn’t mean that we should abandon what it is that makes us the people of Roble.”

“What about after the war?” Neia asked, “The people of Hoburns suffered so much! It was completely unreasonable.”

“Everyone knew we were in for hard times after the war,” Mister Urre answered. “But things got better far more quickly than I imagined they would. All we had to do was hold a steady course. Keep the faith. Everything’s better now, and it wasn’t because we went off and decided to chase some savage notions of strength.”

Neia stared, dumbfounded, at the silversmith. Was the Sorcerer King’s wisdom so easy to cast aside?

“If that’s all you’ve come for,” Mister Urre said, “then I should get back to work. Thank you for your visit, Miss Baraja.”

With that, the man left the counter and returned to his workshop. Neia remained in a state of shock long after she shuffled back out onto the street.

I don’t understand.

The Sorcerer King’s wisdom was the truth. He was the truth! Justice! It should have been obvious to anyone who had witnessed His Majesty in person. Yet, Mister and Mrs Urre had done that. They had witnessed both battles between Ainz Ooal Gown and Jaldabaoth, and many others besides. How could he say what he had?

“I don’t get it,” Neia said. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

“It sounded reasonable to me,” Saye said. “At least if you look at things from his perspective. Even if they suffered, they expected to suffer and that suffering ended far more quickly than they expected.”

“In other words,” Neia said, “House Restelo tricked them.”

“Huh?”

“They did it on purpose! Playing with people’s hearts and minds to get them on their side. How evil can you get?”

It was all clear to her now. House Restelo was evil through and through. They were so evil that they could turn good men and women away from the Sorcerer King’s wisdom. Not a single person noticed their insidious schemes because they were distracted by other things. She had to stop them somehow, yet all of her strength was marshalled along the northern coast.

“Speaking with the people in the other parts of Hoburns is going to be more important than I thought,” Neia said.

“What are you going to say?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Neia replied. “But I have to make sure that the Sorcerer King’s wisdom isn’t forsaken in Hoburns. If we don’t muster up some resistance against House Restelo, they’ll turn everyone away from the truth!”

Whatever she said and did, she would have to be careful about it. She had few allies and the capital was crawling with Nobles and their men. Enacting any forceful means would not only have them quickly crush any violent individuals, but also risk showing people like Mister Urre that they were right about the Sorcerer King’s wisdom being nothing but base savagery.

A scream jerked Neia out of her thoughts. The flow of traffic froze at the sound, and a gap in the crowd opened to reveal a woman lying motionless on the cobblestones.

What the…

Neia scanned the surroundings, her head filled with thoughts of Rogues and Assassins.

“Oh gods,” another woman cried, “he’s here!”

“It’s the Smiling Demon!”

Another opening appeared in the crowd, created by a mass of men and women pushing to get away from something. She followed their fearful gazes to a rooftop nearby, where a fair-haired young man looked down at the crowd.

That’s him? It must be…

Even from her distance, she could tell that everything he wore was exceptional in quality. His armour alone probably rivalled what Neia’s father once wore. No mere Rogue would appear so exquisitely adorned.

Neia’s hand went down to the quiver at her right hip, fingers finding the fletchings of an arrow. Her gaze turned hard as the nightmarish aftermath of Iago Lousa’s assassination flashed through her mind.

“So this is the famous ‘Demon’,” a voice carried over the panic. “I see nothing but a green boy dressed in finery by his upstart masters!”

A Knight in unfamiliar livery stepped into the opening below the rooftops. The ring of steel filled the air as he drew his longsword and pointed it at the Assassin.

“You’ve plagued our fair capital long enough, ‘Demon’. Come down here so I can send you to the gods.”

As if he’ll come down and fight fairly.

The Knight was an idiot, but he served as a useful distraction. Neia nocked an arrow to her bow, taking a deep breath before focusing on eliminating her nemesis.

“Lower your weapon before I send you to the gods.”

A familiar and highly unwelcome voice stopped Neia before she raised her bow. Another individual in shining plate armour appeared in the clearing, bearing the scapular of the Holy Order. Neia’s stomach churned upon seeing the unmistakable bob cut of the Holy Order’s former Grandmaster.

“How can you ask me to lower my blade against this scum, Sister Custodio?” The Knight said, “Is the Holy Order siding with an Assassin?”

“I don’t see any Assassins.”

The Knight scoffed.

“Everyone here knows that he’s an Assassin! How can you doubt so many?”

“Because ninety-nine out of a hundred of you weren’t even in Hoburns until recently,” Remedios said in a bored-sounding voice. “Having a bunch of people come up and ‘claim’ that a thief-taker is an Assassin doesn’t make it any less true than before. If you want to challenge the ruling of the court, then do it in court, not in the streets. I won’t suffer any vigilantes on my watch.”

Neia shook her head. Remedios was just as blind as ever. During the war, she arbitrarily accused the Sorcerer King of being in collusion with Jaldabaoth. Now, she denied the existence of a vile Assassin right in front of her face. So many people couldn’t be wrong about either of them.

“Move along, everyone,” Remedios called out. “There’s nothing interesting to see here.”

The Assassin smiled an evil smile as the crowd dispersed. Neia joined the flow of people, keeping an eye on the Assassin as he made his way over the rooftops. The Knight might have failed to bring him to justice, but she wouldn’t so easily lose her quarry.

She shadowed the Fiend back west along the avenue, weaving through the pedestrians as she struggled to keep up with him. Occasionally he stopped to terrorise the poor citizens. Infuriatingly, all of the House Restelo patrols seemed genuinely amused by their reaction, doing nothing to help. She should have expected it of them, but their conduct disgusted her nonetheless.

Neia crossed the western plaza, where the Assassin stopped to look down on the market. He seemed intent on examining the area for an extended period, so it seemed like a good opportunity to take him down. She stepped into the shadow of an alley gazing intently at her target.

“What are you looking at?”

A brown-haired young woman in a leatherworker’s apron appeared before Neia. She looked somewhere between herself and Saye in age. Neia tried to ignore her, but she only stepped closer.

“I haven’t seen you two around here before,” the young woman said.

“There are a lot of new people in the city,” Neia replied.

“What’s your business here?” The woman asked.

“Is that any business of yours?” Neia answered.

“You’re in the Lanca district. I’m a Leatherworker. Of course it’s my business. And why are you wearing a mask?”

Argh, so annoying! What the hell is her problem?

The Assassin started moving again. Neia moved to pursue him, but the woman got in the way.

“You can’t have him,” she said. “He’s mine! I don’t care how pretty your friend is, either!”

Neia’s mind stopped working for a moment. What in the gods’ names was she talking about?

She tried to get around the woman, but she kept blocking her path. Neia’s frustration exploded when the Assassin left her sight.

“Look,” she scowled, “I don’t–”

“Ricardo!” The woman waved her hand in the air, “There’s a suspicious woman in a mask over here!”

“Tch!”

Neia retreated into the alley and quickly made her way out of the western quarter. Not only had she lost her mark, but it was too late to track him down. The meeting with her followers in the eastern quarter was coming up soon.

“That woman,” Neia fumed, “I can’t believe she thought we were…were…after him romantically!”

“I know, right?” Saye replied, “What’s so good about that guy, anyway?”

She couldn’t agree more. The woman must have been a naïve idiot who was blinded by his looks. Or maybe it was because he was dangerous. Some women considered that sort of excitement a tempting prospect.

When they arrived behind Mister Abrigo’s workshop in the eastern quarter, Neia found a small crowd of people gathered in the tiny courtyard. Many were familiar faces that greeted her with smiles and nods.

“Miss Baraja, it’s good to see you again!”

“Abrigo told us you had something to say.”

“Yes, I do,” Neia replied with a nod. “But, first, is there anyone else on their way?”

“Courtyard’s small,” Mister Abrigo said, “so we figured we’d prioritise gathering members of the Corps from around the quarter.”

Even with what they had, the place was packed, so it was a good call.

“I see,” Neia said. “I’ll speak to the people in the northern quarter tomorrow. On a related note, does anyone know any Corps members living in the western quarter?”

The people in the crowd exchanged looks. Most of them shook their heads. While they all lived in the same city, the people were divided into communities defined by guilds and professional relationships. One could live in a single district for their entire lives without ever setting foot outside of it, though she didn’t think anyone actually did that.

“Is there something in particular you wanted to ask about, Miss Baraja?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I went to the western quarter and found that there are Corps members who have turned their backs on justice!”

A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Neia sent her grim gaze around the courtyard.

“I’m glad you all feel that way,” she said. “I was shocked, personally. I had no idea how to respond. After some thought, however, I realised that the answer was a simple one. Though it grieves me to say this, some members of the Sorcerer King Rescue Corps have returned to their wicked ways. They have embraced sin!”

“But…but that can’t be!” A woman cradling her child cried, “They all witnessed the truth with us!”

“How did it happen?” A man in a tailor’s outfit asked.

“It happened because they were attacked,” Neia answered.

“Attacked?”

“Yes. Attacked. Since the end of the war, I have come to realise that our war has only begun. Our war is not one that is solely fought with bows and spears: it is a war against the ways of weakness that permeate the Holy Kingdom!

“That is how we lost those members. The powers that rule Roble create conditions that twist the hearts and minds of the people. Under those conditions, they wish to tell us how powerless we are; that it’s better to return to sin and live under them. They want us to be weak! To be sinners! Because it is easy to rule over the weak. Because people who are convinced that they are powerless are infinitely easier to dominate than ones who refuse to accept every lie that they build upon that concession!”

Heads nodded slowly as Neia spoke. It was truly fortunate that she was able to say what she had before any more damage was done.

“What should we do?” Someone asked from a window above, “Do we have to fight that huge army camped outside the city?”

“No,” Neia replied. “That’s obviously not a good idea right now. As I said, ours is a war against the very society that drives us into weakness. The first victory in that war must be won within ourselves. Sadly, this is a battle that our enemy is more well-versed in than we are; their strategies have been cultivated over generations to turn the Holy Kingdom into what it is today. My best advice to everyone here is simple: keep the Sorcerer King’s wisdom close to your heart and turn away from sin. Do not try to bear the weight of our enemies’ attacks alone. Look to each other and cultivate your strength together.”

“They’re bound to do something if they notice what they’re doing isn’t working,” someone said. “What will we do if they come after us physically?”

Neia shook her head, and the people around her visibly deflated.

“I can only pray that they don’t. But the chance of that is low. If anything, those who would suppress us must still observe the laws of the Holy Kingdom. They won’t be attacking anyone in broad daylight. The most we should expect is harassment.”

“And if that harassment is so bad it makes things unlivable?”

“Then gather your families and head north. We have many allies gathered there, but they can’t move because of the unknown threat that lurks offshore. Finding us will be easy if you go to Lloyds. From there, you’ll be directed to the many places that we’ve built in Sierra Norte.”

“…you’ve built places for us?” Mister Abrigo asked.

Neia smiled and nodded. Planning ahead had certainly paid off.

“Indeed,” she said. “The Corps has not remained idle while our members have come under attack. If push comes to shove, we will fight! Mark my words: this war will not end until we are all free to follow the wisdom of the Sorcerer King! Free to follow the Path of Justice!”