Episode 53: Schemes (3)
The appearance of the church’s knights cast a chilling silence over the jousting arena.
The nobles were more terrified by the church’s presence than by the display of dark magic. They knew all too well that the church would go on a rampage like a mad dog when it came to matters involving dark magic.
“Damn it!”
The first to break the silence was Jackson Carter. Realizing that staying put would do him no good, he attempted to flee. But Damian held his wrist firmly.
“Let go of me… Ugh!”
Just as Jackson tried to resist, the church’s paladins rushed in. They struck him on the back of the head with the hilt of a sword, forcibly knocking him off his horse, and twisted his arms behind his back.
While Jackson was being subdued, another paladin approached Damian and greeted him. The man had a round, full face like a harvest moon.
“Sir Damian, a pleasure to meet you. I am Thomas, a second-class paladin of the church.”
Unlike regular knights, paladins identified themselves by rank. A second-class paladin was equivalent to a middle-class knight.
‘His connections are impressive,’ Damian thought.
The night before, Damian had sent Victor to contact the church in the nearby city. He had informed them that a heretic might appear at the jousting arena and requested the dispatch of paladins. He also mentioned that among the heretics was a knight of middle-class rank, asking for someone capable of matching that level.
The church not only heeded Damian’s request immediately but also sent forces truly capable of countering a middle-class knight. Thanks to this, it seemed he could handle the situation without lifting a finger himself. It was like fighting poison with poison.
“Just as you said, Sir Damian, there really was a filthy heretic here.”
At those words, Jackson Carter screamed in desperation.
“Who, who are you calling a heretic? I haven’t done anything wro—”
One of the paladins silenced him with a blow to the mouth using the sheath of his sword. A sickening crunch echoed.
“A heretic who dabbles in dark magic has no right to speak.”
“Spare us your filth and stay quiet.”
The paladins growled as if they might kill Jackson at any moment. Jackson cowered under their murderous intent.
“But Sir Damian, where is the other heretic?”
Damian pointed to the stands, where Jacques Noire was seated.
“That man is the middle-class heretic I mentioned.”
Jacques Noire’s expression twisted in anger. At the same time, Thomas charged toward him.
When the jousting tournament began, Jacques Noire had no worries. The bracelet he had given Jackson Carter was no ordinary item. It was crafted with great care by a notorious dark sorcerer.
When Jacques Noire was still a low-class knight, that bracelet had saved his life multiple times. If not for its significant drawback of consuming life force and magic, he would have worn it constantly.
As the tournament commenced and Damian Haxen began to move, Jacques watched with anticipation. He didn’t know what kind of fortune Damian had stumbled upon, but it was clear that something extraordinary had elevated him to the rank of a low-class knight in just a few months.
By killing Damian Haxen today, Jacques Noire could seize both the fortune and the favor of the Copperhead Count. It was truly a day to remember…
But then, Damian Haxen grabbed Jackson Carter’s wrist, and the bracelet shattered.
”…?”
Dark magic spread thickly in all directions. The unexpected turn of events filled Jacques Noire’s mind with confusion. But before he could gather his thoughts, something even more shocking happened.
The paladins, who had been seated among the spectators, revealed themselves.
”…!”
Jacques Noire was stunned. Despite their proximity, he hadn’t sensed the paladins at all. Only when they removed their robes did he feel their presence. The robes they wore were no ordinary garments; they were special relics used by the church for covert operations.
The church’s paladins quickly subdued Jackson Carter. With chaos piling upon chaos, Jacques Noire found himself unable to think.
“That man is the middle-class heretic I mentioned.”
Until Damian Haxen pointed directly at him.
A paladin charged at him, sword raised. Jacques Noire instinctively raised his arm to block the attack. The protective gear on his forearm clashed with the blade, producing a sharp sound.
“Ahhh!”
“Eek!”
The clash between the two middle-class fighters generated a tremendous shockwave, enough to push back the surrounding spectators.
“There really was a middle-class heretic!”
The paladin’s eyes blazed like fire.
“To use dark magic with talents blessed by the divine! I’ll tear you apart and offer you to the gods!”
“Typical fanatic, lacking any sense. Spouting nonsense without a second thought,” Jacques Noire replied calmly.
But despite his composed tone, his mind was racing with countless thoughts. The church was as powerful as the empire itself, with influence reaching every corner of the continent. As far as Jacques Noire knew, few had ever survived opposing the church.
“Don’t you dare speak, heretic!”
A white light burst from Thomas’s body. Strangely, despite the radiance, it wasn’t blinding. It was divine power—a miracle only those who believed and served the gods could manifest.
“I’ll split your skull right now!”
Thomas pressed his sword forward with all his might. Jacques Noire didn’t resist. Instead, he used Thomas’s force to propel himself backward into the stands.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Thomas shouted, chasing after Jacques Noire. The sounds of their fierce battle echoed from behind the jousting arena.
“As expected of the church,” Damian mused, watching the scene unfold. There was no better force to combat dark magic.
“Hmm…?”
At that moment, something caught Damian’s eye. The Copperhead Count was slipping away from the arena, his face ashen.
“This can’t be… For something like this to happen in my domain…!”
The Copperhead Count was drenched in cold sweat, looking as if he might collapse at any moment.
“Jacques Noire! That fool dared to use dark magic on my land!”
The church’s inquisitors were relentless and ruthless. They wouldn’t stop at Jacques Noire and Jackson Carter’s transgressions but would conduct a thorough investigation to root out anyone involved.
“If they find out I was planning to deal with those scoundrels… No, no. I knew nothing. I knew nothing!”
The Copperhead Count trembled as he walked, trying to convince himself.
Olivia watched him with disdain. The man who usually acted so dignified and cunning was now quaking in fear at the first sign of real danger.
“Olivia! I need to think of a solution! If the church comes, tell them I’ve collapsed and buy me some time! Do you understand?”
As soon as they reached the tent, the Count ordered Olivia.
Olivia replied with a disinterested look. “I doubt that’ll work.”
“Just do as I say! Why do you have so much to say?”
The Count shouted at Olivia’s retort. He needed time to gather his thoughts.
“Your Excellency, I wondered where you were headed. Off for a nap, perhaps?”
Startled by the unexpected voice, the Count turned his head. Damian Haxen stood right behind him.
“Damian Haxen! How dare you show your face to me!”
Judging by the paladins’ actions, it was clear Damian had summoned the church. To the Count, Damian was now the enemy who had ruined everything.
“I came to discuss something with you, Your Excellency.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Knights, what are you doing? Throw him out!”
The Count’s knights moved to block Damian.
“No further approach is—”
Damian swiftly struck each knight’s chin with the back of his hand. He moved so quickly that no one could see it clearly. The knights collapsed, unconscious. The Count screamed.
“Your Excellency, this is disappointing.”
With those words, Damian grabbed the Count by the collar and lifted him.
“You seem upset that I called the church, but have you forgotten you tried to have me killed?”
As Damian’s murderous intent seeped out, the Count’s face turned ghostly pale.
“Shall we have a quiet discussion inside, or would you prefer a different kind of conversation?”
“I-I’ll discuss it! I will!”
The Count shouted desperately. Only then did Damian smile with satisfaction.
“Wise choice.”
“Your Excellency, I’m deeply disappointed.”
Damian sat with his feet propped on the table. The Count was too shaken to even think of reprimanding his behavior.
“I thought we had a good relationship. But you were plotting to kill me behind my back.”
“You must have heard some strange rumors. I’ve never tried to kill you. What nonsense is this…?”
“Lady Olivia told me everything. Jacques Noire wanted me dead, and you promised to clean up afterward, didn’t you?”
The Count glared at Olivia, but she met his gaze without flinching.
“Yes, Father. I told him.”
“Olivia! Have you lost your mind? Why would you do such a thing…?”
Bang.
Damian struck the table with his heel, silencing the Count.
“Your Grace, I haven’t finished speaking.”
“You… you dare…”
“What do you think will happen if I inform the Order that you tried to make a deal with Jacques Noir?”
The Count’s face turned ashen.
“I-I didn’t know! I truly didn’t! I had no idea Jacques Noir was involved in dark magic…”
“Do you really think that excuse will hold up with the Order?”
The Order had zero tolerance for anything even remotely connected to dark magic. And the Count was implicated in an attempted murder using such forbidden arts. Pleading innocence would be futile.
“Sir Damian! I’m sorry! I was wrong! Please, just don’t report me to the Order…”
“Even if I stay silent, Jackson Carter will reveal everything. You know how dreadful the inquisitors’ torture can be, don’t you?”
At Damian’s pointed remark, the Count felt all strength leave his body.
“Your Grace, you might not know, but I have some connections within the Order. Defending one person like you would be quite simple.”
Damian spoke with a subtle confidence, and the Count looked at him as if he were a savior.
“You… you would do that?”
“But there are a few conditions.”
“Name them! Whatever they are, I’ll agree!”
Damian began counting on his fingers.
“First, allow my brother to court Lady Olivia.”
“That’s easy enough.”
“Second, declare me the winner of the upcoming jousting tournament.”
“Of course, that’s only fair!”
The first two conditions were simple enough, but the next one was the real challenge.
“Before the year ends, transfer half of your estate to Lady Olivia.”
“That’s absurd! Half? Are you out of your mind?”
The Count was furious, but Damian’s voice turned sharp.
“Then feel free to plead your innocence to the Order yourself.”
Faced with that threat, the Count had no choice but to fall silent.
“Lastly, as compensation for this incident, send 300 gold to the Haxen Viscountcy.”
“Th-three hundred gold is…”
“Considering you tried to have me killed, it’s a small price, isn’t it?”
Faced with Damian’s menacing words, the Count could only remain silent.
“What will it be?”
“Give me a moment to think…”
“Decide here and now.”
Damian’s tone was unwavering. The Count sighed deeply.
”…I will comply with all your demands.”
“Wise decision.”
Damian rose from his seat. Before leaving the tent, he gave the Count one final warning.
“Your Grace, just so you know, if you break or delay any of our agreements…”
Damian unleashed his aura.
Magic and malice swirled together, engulfing the entire tent.
”…”
The Count was utterly overwhelmed by the sheer force.
“I will personally ensure you pay the price.”
The Count’s head nodded slowly in agreement.
Damian exited the tent with Olivia.
“Are you really okay with this?”
Damian asked, concern etched on his face.
Last night, he had sought Olivia’s consent to reveal her involvement, in exchange for half the estate.
This effectively severed Olivia’s ties with the Count.
“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m perfectly fine.”
Olivia replied without batting an eye.
“My father used me as a tool my entire life. Now, I’m just using him as one.”
Her words were cold and chilling.
Was it right to accept such a woman as Abel’s partner?
Damian pondered for a moment.
‘Well, Abel can be a bit clueless at times. It might not be so bad.’
As they continued walking, someone came running towards them.
“Da-Damian… there you are!”
Sophia Russell appeared, looking as if she might burst into tears at any moment.