Chapter 87

Chapter 87

***

Dr. Reno's room at the main house was filled with exotic and mysterious objects.

The room smelled of old wood, a scent that wasn't at all unpleasant. Somehow, it seemed to soothe the mind and body.

Everything about it was fine, but Rickart felt somewhat uncomfortable—even displeased—as he entrusted his body to these unfamiliar and suspicious medical tools.

Dr. Reno undid the front of Rickart's tunic and pressed a device he called a stethoscope to his chest. The cold sensation against his bare skin was foreign and unsettling, making Rickart flinch.

"Breathe in. Slowly."

The pot-bellied, thick-bearded Dr. Reno spoke with an expression of utmost seriousness.

Though he felt some displeasure, Rickart decided to follow the man's instructions now that he was here. As he inhaled, he felt a catch in his breath, accompanied by a piercing pain in his lungs, as if they were being pricked by needles.

"Again, slowly."

Rickart faithfully followed the instruction. After a few more breaths, the doctor spoke again.

"Try to force yourself to breathe in past the point where it catches. Just once."

Rickart didn't think it was a good idea, but Marie, standing beside him, gave him a look that told him to do as he was told. Grimacing, Rickart endured the pain and forced himself to take a deep, full breath.

"Now, exhale slowly."

"Whew..."

Dr. Reno focused intently on the sounds coming from within Rickart's body before finally removing the unpleasant stethoscope.

"Hmm... Fortunately, it doesn't seem to be in a critical state. If the poisoning was caused by a powder, it must be from the Rainbow Moth family. Given its high toxicity, it was likely mixed with something else."

"So, what about the antidote?" Marie asked.

But regrettably, Dr. Reno stroked his beard with a heavy expression and shook his head.

"Only the one who manufactured the poison knows the exact antidote. Tampering with it blindly could make things worse, so I cannot create one haphazardly. However, it would be a different story for the Witches of Dawn, but finding them is as difficult as finding a dragon."

Rainbow Moths, Witches of Dawn... these were all things Rickart had never heard of before.

"It sounds as though there is no current remedy," Rickart said. As expected, he felt regret for having consented to the examination.

"That is not the case. One moment."

Dr. Reno rummaged through a cluttered pile of belongings and pulled out a small, dusty wooden box.

He blew the dust off—right in front of Rickart, whose lungs were already in poor condition—and opened the box. Inside were dark, yellowish crystals that looked like resin.

"This is Agarwood, used by the Salamin people in their rituals. It is a very precious item, imported from the far east."

It was the hardened resin of an agarwood tree. Dr. Reno picked up a piece, shaved off a suitable amount into a porcelain bowl with a knife, and lit it.

The resin didn't catch fire; instead, it began to smolder, sending up wisps of smoke.

In an instant, a heavy yet sweet fragrance filled the room. It was a scent that carried a sense of solemnity.

He held the porcelain bowl beneath Rickart's nose. "Breathe it in. Slowly, deeply."

Rickart felt uneasy about doing something so unfamiliar with such an exotic scent, but he followed the instructions, inhaling the smoke until he felt the familiar pain.

Initially, his chest hurt, but it gradually subsided. By the time the agarwood had finished burning, the pain had miraculously vanished.

"How is it?"

"Wow, what is this? I feel as if I'm completely healed."

"No. It only alleviates the symptoms and the pain; it does not heal your damaged lungs. For now, take this with you and inhale the smoke every morning and evening. After that, it would be best to find a way to truly heal yourself."

Dr. Reno handed the small wooden box to Rickart, and at the same time, he held out his hand. Rickart didn't understand the gesture at first, but then it clicked. 'He wants money?'

Nothing in the world was free. Even loyal knights would return home during a war if they weren't paid on time. In this era, the concept that a contract took precedence over loyalty was fundamental.

But he had no money right now. And since this item came from the far east, it surely wasn't cheap.

"Ah, well..."

Just as Marie was about to say they would pay for it later, Dr. Reno stroked his beard and offered a wide grin.

"It was a joke. I couldn't possibly charge you, Young Master. I am not such a heartless man."

"Really? Why?"

Although Rickart had some exceptional ideas that transcended the era, there were still parts of him that couldn't escape the conventions of the current age.

So, while he was grateful, he couldn't quite understand why the man would give it to him for free.

"I did not lead you toward your destiny, but I believe I served as a signpost at an important time. Whenever I heard news of you from afar, I felt both anxious and proud. I only feel a sense of gratitude, so please consider this a return for that gratitude."

Dr. Reno's influence had indeed played a major role in Rickart's decision to become an adventurer.

Though he hadn't shown it, he had apparently felt a sense of regret and pity in a corner of his heart. Of course, the decision had been Rickart's, so there was no need for him to feel that way.

In light of that, seeing Rickart adapt so well and make a name for himself had brought him a sense of relief and gratitude.

As he had caught a glimpse of it three years ago, Rickart realized that the man was indeed a remarkable person—a man of character rare in this harsh world.

Rickart had been skeptical of the doctor at first, but now he was deeply impressed.

"Doctor, if you ever find yourself in trouble, don't worry about the cost and contact me anytime. I don't have many skills, but I know how to use a sword."

"Hahaha, as someone who spends his time doing little chores or occasional errands for the Count, I have no need for blades. If someone is angry, I simply apologize; if I don't speak ill of others' weaknesses, I avoid making enemies. I only hope for martial luck to follow you both, and the lady as well."

"Still, just in case, please take care of yourself, Doctor."

"Haha, very well. Anyway, the recent events are quite worrying. I only hope the fires in the capital do not spread too far."

He was referring to the assassination of the Emperor, his family, and many nobles.

"It's a major event, but what can be done? There's nothing a lone swordsman like me can do."

"Even if there is nothing you can do, you can still have thoughts on the matter. Who do you support, Young Master?"

"Support? Whom? Naturally, the Crown Prince will succeed him. That's how it should be. That's what the title 'Crown Prince' means, after all."

"Huh? Haven't you heard the news? It seems the Crown Prince also died during the chaos. That's why the ducal house is currently in an uproar over whether to support the 2nd Prince or the 5th Prince. That's the reason why the Count left in such a hurry to head to Castle Brumbear."

This was the main house of the Caldebern family, a place Rickart had been reluctant to visit. He had thought it fortunate that the Count was away, as he only had to deal with the household members.

But to hear that the Count had left because the Crown Prince was dead...

Rickart was momentarily flabbergasted. Though he hadn't known the Crown Prince well, he had spent a brief time with him.

He wasn't deeply grieved, but it was quite a shock.

Marie, however, felt differently. After all, she had been mistreated by him.

"That little devil got what he deserved," she said.

"M-Marie. Still..."

"If you hadn't appeared at just the right time, Ricky, I would have killed him with my own hands."

Marie had her clumsy side, her strong-willed side, and her brave side, but perhaps due to her bloodline and upbringing, she also had a cold, ruthless side.

Dr. Reno wiped away sweat, not having expected her to speak so harshly.

"H-hahaha... I suppose that's one way to look at it. Regardless, in such a situation, securing legitimacy will be paramount. I believe legitimacy will likely go to whoever can avenge the late Emperor."

"What revenge?"

"The Cult of Retribution. Wouldn't the person who uproots that cult have a high chance of becoming the next Emperor? I've heard that in the capital, hundreds of people are being hanged every day, as they hunt down cultists to suppress the chaos."

"..."

The Emperor had been assassinated. Naturally, it wouldn't be overlooked. But when the Imperial family's wrath was unleashed, it wasn't just the cultists who suffered; those associated with them, and countless innocent people, would also be sacrificed.

There would surely be some minimal procedures, but in reality, it was difficult to distinguish who was who, so they were likely proceeding by rounding up anyone under suspicion. Like a raging storm.

Rickart and Marie looked at each other. They knew who they were thinking of with just a glance. Ice...

Ice was not currently a member of the cult, but he hadn't completely cut ties with them either. Though he had mentally left, his situation was somewhat ambiguous.

"What is the matter?"

"Ah, no. It's just... I'm sure there are so many people in the cult throughout the world. Are they going to kill them all?"

"Even if the next Emperor is crowned, the Imperial policy of suppression will likely continue for the time being. One worrying thing is that such matters tend to drag on without any clear purpose, only to become more horrific as hatred builds."

"Ah..."

In the end, had it been a mistake to accept Ice? Would it be better for him to turn himself in and state that he was once a cultist but no longer was? He couldn't sell out his friend. It was a very difficult problem.

"By the way, before you left for the academy, you asked me something, didn't you?"

"What was it?"

"The Heiden Fields."

The Heiden Fields were where the past Rickart had tended to his sheep. It was the place where the purest man in the world had sung to the stars, and where he had met his tragic end.

And it was also where his boundless hatred and anger toward the world had been conceived.

"Uh... I don't remember clearly, but I think so."

"There are rumors that the cult's holy land is located there. I've only heard it as well, so I don't know the details. If their stronghold is found and uprooted, the visible success might help dampen the intensity of the suppression."

"I see..."

At the mention of the Heiden Fields, which he had forgotten, Rickart felt a strange sensation he couldn't put into words.

It was as if an echo from the past was calling out to him. 'Where are you going alone? Why are you the only one who's happy?'

Perhaps this was what Armand meant when he said Rickart had to face his past self.

Seeing Rickart looking somber, Marie assumed he was worried about Ice and placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

"Let's not give up. We haven't done anything wrong. That's the most important thing."

"Yeah, thanks." Rickart forced a smile.

After a few more words with Dr. Reno and expressing his gratitude once again, they bid each other farewell and wished each other luck.

Rickart and Marie left the Count's castle and walked toward Reinfurt. From there, they planned to take a boat directly to Ehrenberg.

The cool autumn wind blowing by couldn't soothe Rickart's restless heart, and even when Marie acted cute beside him, he wasn't in the mood to do anything but force a smile.

The shadows of the past seemed deeper than he had tried to convince himself they were.

'The God of Retribution... just what was he retributing? When, and against whom, did I ever pass judgment? What on earth did people see in my past self?'

'A Demon King, the devil among devils, a murderer among murderers. Yet, on the other hand, a god who saved the powerless. In all the world, there was no figure with such a dramatic duality. That was the Ricky of the past.'

Beset by inner turmoil, Rickart boarded a ship with Marie at Reinfurt. As they headed upriver toward Ehrenberg, they passed a city that was engulfed in flames. 'Has a war broken out?'

Deep black smoke with flickering flames within was rising from various spots. The passengers on the ship gathered on the deck, watching the spectacle with a sense of dread.

But to their surprise, those burning the city weren't an army or a band of thieves. They were angry peasants and citizens.

They were storming the homes of city nobles and wealthy families, dragging out the masters and their households by the hair. Then, they were beating and kicking them to death.

Screams and shouts could be heard, though the words were indistinct. It was clearly the outpouring of long-suppressed resentment. And they were tearing through the wealth the rich had accumulated, like rats through grain.

The cult's act of terror had served as a trigger—an excuse for the exploited and oppressed to rise up.

The situation seemed far more severe than he had anticipated. It wasn't just a matter of hunting down and suppressing the cult.

The core of the issue was that not every fief in the world was as peaceful and idyllic as Stormhearts.

Most humans were living in miserable suffering. Perhaps the Cult of Retribution was the condensed result of that very suffering.

The flames consuming the city raged so fiercely that the heat could be felt even on the ship passing along the river. The heavy scent of burning was like the smell of a monster's rotting heart.

And that scent seemed to seize Rickart and pull him further and further into his past.