Chapter 213

El Dorado’s Spring (1)

Stay calm.

Having gazed into the abyss beneath rock bottom, Asella thumped herself on the chest.

She wanted to draw her holy sword that very instant and strike down those wicked men.

But she couldn’t.

As Reina had warned her, acting on emotion could ruin everything.

Not only would she be unable to rescue Hans, the fruit seller, but she would also be playing directly into the Papal Palace’s hands.

Because I’ve been branded a traitor.

In the Holy Nation, being called a traitor carried tremendous weight.

Those close to Asella did not believe that nonsense, but ordinary citizens were different.

The Hero of this generation will destroy El Dorado.

It was a prophecy delivered by the Goddess herself.

For now, I have no choice but to record all of this.

She could decide whether to upload it to the Gallery later. Right now, recording the evidence came first.

Asella forced down the fury and betrayal raging inside her and began moving.

It pained her to stand by and watch Hans being "interrogated," but she had no choice.

She needed irrefutable evidence so the Papal Palace would have no way to escape responsibility.

"Is it really so difficult to admit? You’re under a curse, and the Undying King has been giving you orders in your dreams. That’s all you have to say."

"I... I cannot do that. Why should I?"

"How frustrating. You shouldn’t be asking why. You should be asking how."

Fortunately, they apparently had not considered the possibility that someone might infiltrate the facility.

Security was concentrated around the entrance. Everywhere else was relatively unguarded.

Asella approached the window and silently lowered herself beside it.

The window was positioned quite high, but her exceptional physical abilities made reaching it effortless.

"If you admit it willingly, it will be good for both you and us."

"The Goddess Ares... will never forgive you."

"But we can forgive you. It’s simple, isn’t it?"

"How dare you invoke the name of the Goddess Ares...!"

"...!"

"The will of the Papal Palace is the will of Ares."

Even as an empty courtesy, no one could have said Hans was in good condition.

His eyes were tightly covered with a blindfold to prevent him from accessing the Gallery, and both his arms were bound.

He had apparently endured brutal torture over the past day, as wounds covered his body.

A bucket filled with water stood beside him.

Realizing what they had likely done with it made Asella’s heart ache even more.

Mr. Hans...

The look in Asella’s eyes hardened.

Being forced to witness their atrocities was agonizing.

Why did the Goddess Ares not visit divine punishment upon them?

Why did the perpetually kind Hans have to suffer like this?

Why was the Papal Palace so desperate to retain its power that it was willing to become a Demon King itself?

"Tsk. This isn’t working. Do it again."

"I will never...!"

When another round of "interrogation" began, Asella nearly turned her head away without realizing it.

But she had to capture the entire process with her own eyes.

Even if dirt filled her eyes, she could never allow them to close.

"Urgh..."

"Oh dear. He fainted again."

Hans went limp after the brutal interrogation.

His strength had been exhausted, and he had lost consciousness.

The inquisitor clicked his tongue as he looked at Hans hanging limply like a fish, then gestured with his chin.

The paladins standing behind him stepped forward and began dragging Hans away.

Creak—

The interrogation-room door opened, and the paladins took Hans somewhere else.

Just as Asella was about to follow them, she heard something from inside the room that she could not ignore.

"What if he actually dies?"

The question came from one of the interrogators, his voice tinged with concern.

Was he worried about Hans, or about the consequences that would follow his death?

Asella instinctively knew it was the latter and continued eavesdropping.

"What do you mean, what if he dies? It makes no difference to us. We’ll simply announce that he really was a minion of the Undying King."

"Will the citizens believe that?"

"We’ll say several paladins were badly injured while subduing him. We’ll just have to be prepared to leave a few claw marks on their faces."

The conversation went beyond shamelessness. It was revolting.

Asella felt faint.

They spoke as if a human life meant nothing.

Were these men truly clergymen?

"What about his surviving family?"

"Hey, you idiot. Don’t you know how undead work? An undead isn’t complete until it dies. We’ll say we had no choice but to cremate him to prevent the curse from spreading."

"The citizens of El Dorado have absolute faith in Ares. If we invoke Ares’s name, they’ll consider anything we do justified. We’ll probably be busy afterward as well."

"We will?"

"Yes. We may have to arrest a few more people and claim they were afflicted by the Undying King’s curse. Apparently, that’s what it’ll take to convince the citizens. By the way, do you have any cigarettes?"

They did not intend merely to place collars around the citizens’ necks.

They intended to seize absolute control over their lives and deaths.

They would no longer treat people as human beings.

Asella seethed with rage at their way of thinking.

How could they do this to people...?!

She wanted to draw her holy sword that very instant and sever their heads.

But she couldn’t.

With superhuman self-control, Asella subdued the flames raging in her heart.

She had secured both evidence and testimony.

All that remained was to expose them.

She decided to leave this sickening place as quickly as possible.

Mr. Hans, please endure just a little longer.

O Ares, please grant Mr. Hans the strength to withstand this ordeal.

Hans was an ordinary citizen.

The length of time he could endure torture was painfully limited.

Even if he survived, there was a high chance that he would be left with scars that could never be erased.

That was why she prayed so desperately.

It was the only thing she could do for him right now.

But... will uploading this to the Gallery really be enough?

The thought suddenly occurred to her.

Would everything truly end if she simply posted the evidence on the Gallery?

El Dorado was rotten.

Just as Ludwig had cut away its rotten flesh, El Dorado’s corruption also needed to be excised.

The problem was that the rot had reached its head.

Any living creature would die if its head were severed.

Replacing the head would be no different from transforming it into an entirely different being.

That might be better.

If it meant saving millions of citizens, she would gladly cut off that head.

Just as Asella steeled her resolve—

Flash!

"?!"

Her holy sword suddenly began to shine.

Asella couldn’t help but flinch in alarm.

She had not yet escaped the interrogation facility. Even a faint light would attract considerable attention here.

She hurriedly wrapped the sword in her robe, but even the fabric could not conceal its radiance.

I-I need to get out of here quickly...!

Clunk!

"Hm?"

Flustered by the unexpected development, she made a serious mistake.

The resulting noise caused one of the paladins serving as an interrogator below to raise his head.

Her holy sword was glowing, and she had made a noise on top of that.

The chances of remaining undiscovered were practically zero.

Asella’s eyes met the interrogator’s directly.

A heavy silence settled between them.

He was the same interrogator who had been speaking with his superior inside the room.

Asella faced him and slowly began reaching for her holy sword.

"Hey! What’s taking you so long?"

"Ah. I’m coming."

Unexpectedly, the interrogator pretended not to have seen Asella and hurried toward his superior’s voice.

—What the hell took you so long?

—There was a rat, that’s all.

—A rat? Well, this place is ancient, so I suppose that’s not surprising. Did you take care of it?

—Yes.

The conversation that followed reached her ears. It seemed the interrogator had no intention of exposing her.

Relieved, Asella exhaled and gave a faint smile.

So there’s still... some conscience left in this place.

It was the last shred of conscience to bloom in a place as filthy and disgusting as a garbage dump.

Perhaps it was people like him who made the world worth living in.

That was why she could not give up.

After confirming that her holy sword’s light had subsided, Asella hurried outside.

Fortunately, she encountered no danger on her way out.

Next...

It was time to upload the evidence of Hans’s interrogation and imprisonment to the Gallery.

But as she had already realized, posting it would not bring everything to an end.

She needed to take the next step.

Asella stood motionless against the wall of a building and racked her brain.

How could she completely clean out the Papal Palace, which had rotted to its very core?

The Hero existed for the citizens, not for the Pope.

It would be best to cut off the Papal Palace’s arms and legs first... but there isn’t enough time.

The Papal Palace loved filthy political maneuvering. It would undoubtedly try to cut off its own tail and blame a few expendable subordinates.

Furthermore, there was a high chance they would realize she was currently in El Dorado’s capital.

The Papal Palace would surely demand that she reveal herself openly.

That would put me in a difficult position. They’ll exploit my reputation as a traitor until the very end.

For the citizens’ sake, she was willing to reveal the identity behind her named Gallery account.

The citizens would not turn against her merely because she used the Gallery. Everyone would understand.

But the Papal Palace would undoubtedly focus not on Asella the board manager, but on Asella the Hero.

She had been branded a traitor, a figure even the citizens were reluctant to approach.

Her appearance would pour cold water on the movement.

For now, she needed to take a step back and observe.

I need to leave them no way out. But...

Would that truly be easy?

They would begin by sacrificing their subordinates, then stall for time with excuse after excuse.

In the worst-case scenario, the Pope might personally apologize, and everything would end there.

Some might wonder why the Pope bowing his head would be the worst possible outcome.

The Papal Palace must be destroyed.

It had already decayed beyond recovery.

The rotten part had to be cut away.

Even if that meant El Dorado would be reborn under a different name.

Asella considered how she could bring down the Papal Palace, then raised her head.

This is the only way.

That afternoon, the worst exposé in El Dorado’s history erupted across the Gallery.

***

Louis II, Pope of El Dorado.

He had begun as an ordinary priest and risen all the way to the papacy.

Becoming Pope ordinarily required exceptional political ability and the right amount of luck.

He possessed both.

The first stroke of luck came during the Undying King incident, when practically everyone above him was wiped out, creating a severe shortage of personnel.

The second factor was his exceptional political skill.

When fortune presented him with an opportunity, he exploited it to the fullest and rapidly ascended to the position of Pope.

But power had a way of changing people.

Already overflowing with ambition, Louis II had easily succumbed to his desire for authority.

He mercilessly purged anyone who threatened his power and disposed of those who might become future problems.

The Hero Asella and Ludwig were the most prominent examples.

The prophecy itself had been genuine.

It had frightened Asella into fleeing and tarnished Ludwig’s honor.

The exposé had come from an unexpected place—the Forest of Four Seasons—but that did not matter.

"They can’t do anything else from over there anyway."

Ludwig’s survival had been an unexpected variable, but that was all.

As long as he remained trapped in the Forest of Four Seasons, he would be unable to interfere with El Dorado.

All Louis II had to do now was soothe the enraged citizens before brutally suppressing them.

He had believed it would be easy.

"W-What did you say?!"

"An exposé was posted on the Gallery! The citizens are currently rising in revolt!"

That was what he had believed until Hans’s condition was revealed on the Gallery.

—Waaaaaaaah!!!

—Give Mr. Hans back!

—The Pope must step down! The Pope must step down!

—Down with the Demon King!

The citizens’ furious cries reached Louis II’s ears.

Only a day had passed since they took Hans into custody, yet the atrocities committed inside the Papal Palace had already been exposed.

Louis II was badly shaken, but he soon regained his composure.

It’s still fine. It isn’t as though I never anticipated something like this.

It did not matter whether an outsider had infiltrated the palace or someone inside had leaked the information.

He could simply claim complete ignorance and punish the inquisitors involved.

Then he could calm the public by emphasizing the unreliability of information posted on the Gallery before issuing an apology.

While he was at it, he could promise reforms and declare that nothing like this would ever happen again.

If someone exposed us, they must still be in El Dorado. I can blame everything on that bastard.

It would be easy to claim that this was a scheme by the Undying King to divide El Dorado.

After considering several possibilities, Louis II questioned the priest who had hurriedly delivered the report.

"Who posted this exposé? An anonymous user, or someone with a registered name?"

"W-Well... it was a named account, but..."

The clergyman faltered before cautiously answering.

"W-Wild Grylls."

"What?"

"Wild Grylls—the named user who supposedly lives in the Forest of Four Seasons."

"...."

Louis II’s mind stopped functioning for a moment.

Had it been an anonymous user or any other named account, he might have managed.

But the mention of Grylls caught him completely off guard.

His thoughts soon resumed, and he began analyzing the situation.

There’s no possibility that someone trapped in the Forest of Four Seasons came here. Someone must have sent him the evidence.

That much was easy to deduce.

But what came next?

Could he pressure Grylls into revealing his source?

No.

The evidence had already been posted on the Gallery, and Grylls himself remained inside the Forest of Four Seasons.

Could he claim that Grylls’s entire post was fabricated propaganda?

No.

Technically, he could—but doing so might trap him in a contradiction and inflame the citizens even further.

If he claimed the evidence was fabricated, people would ask why he could not produce Hans.

Even if the post was genuine, the trail still ended at the Forest of Four Seasons.

Could he appeal to the citizens to trust the Papal Palace over Grylls?

No.

Because Ludwig was alive.

With Ludwig demonstrably alive, the citizens would respond:

[Then you should enter the Forest of Four Seasons too.]

[You think you’ve been wronged? Then prove your innocence from inside the Forest of Four Seasons.]

[Ludwig did it. Why can’t you?]

Only a lunatic would enter the Forest of Four Seasons willingly.

Doing so was tantamount to throwing away one’s life.

Of course, Louis II could think of plenty of ways to escape responsibility.

In fact, because his opponent was Grylls, he had even more options than usual.

The problem was that every escape route ended at the same destination:

The Forest of Four Seasons.

Incitement and fabrication were Louis II’s specialties.

Those tactics might work in any other circumstance, but they were meaningless before the Forest of Four Seasons.

If he truly believed himself innocent, he could declare that he would enter the forest personally.

But he did not have the courage.

This... can’t be...

Louis II instinctively realized it.

Again... Again...! That bastard ruined everything again...!

A single variable had thrown all his plans into disarray.

***

"Ugh. How horrifying."

Meanwhile, Grylls—the person who had posted the exposé on the Gallery—

"What else would you call that place but the Forest of Four Seasons?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Would you like another sweet potato?"

"Mm."

—was as carefree as could be.