The Regressed Son of a Duke is an Assassin
Chapter 198

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

Chapter 198: True Followers (3)

[The content written in the above letter is certified as a letter sent from the royal family.]

[Sender: Arin Sevellerus.]

Jereon’s brow furrowed deeply like a valley as he confirmed the letter.

He was indeed in a situation where he was very doubtful if the letter he was currently looking at was really sent from the royal family.

However, the royal seal stamped at the bottom of the letter was genuine.

As someone who had received hundreds, even thousands of official documents during his active duty, he could guarantee that.

“So, does that mean the abbot was purely conveying the orders of the royal family to spread the Mist’s doctrine to the people?”

“Yes! That decree was definitely sent from the royal family. I didn’t even know such a book existed!”

The abbot, perhaps overwhelmed by the accumulated grievances, continued to pour out his thoughts without pause.

“Even though it’s the orders of the royal family, do you think it was easy for me to convey the doctrine of the Mist? I shed tears just thinking it was a trial given by Lord Lumendel! Perhaps not just me, but other monks felt the same way!”

According to him, it wasn’t just this monastery that received the royal decree.

He said that all the monasteries of the Empire would have received it, along with a warning not to harbor any doubts, as it was done to maintain the proper order of the Light.

“How did you feel?”

“Feelings?”

“How did you feel conveying the doctrine of the Mist as a monk of the Light?”

The abbot trembled his hands together as he spoke.

“What do you want me to say? It was dreadful!”

Despite witnessing sincere emotions, Jereon’s eyes were filled with disbelief.

“I’ve been in this monastery serving Lord Lumendel for almost 30 years since I was twenty! Do you think reading such a decree would change my beliefs and values?”

Certainly, that was not a wrong statement.

Once a person’s beliefs are set, they are as firmly rooted as the intertwined branches of a tree and do not easily bend.

“Well, I can’t guarantee that others would feel the same way…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s more focused on reality than ideals, you know? Frankly, I think people are more stimulated by the doctrines that appeal to their hearts than the doctrine of Light that we preach. In fact, as time goes by, the number of followers coming to hear the doctrine of the Mist has been increasing.”

Jereon and the abbot’s gaze naturally turned to the document lying on the desk.

For some reason, the writing on the back was unusually clear.

“Do you know who the author of this book is?”

“The author? Unfortunately, I don’t. I’ve never heard of a name like Dio Hafenkus.”

“Well, that’s to be expected.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, I mean, how were the followers gathered?”

“Oh, there was a secret signal sent along with the decree from the royal family. It’s done like this…”

The abbot clasped his hands together and blew air between them.

“Is there any significance to it?”

“It’s said to breathe souls into the Mist. Through this signal, the followers were gathered in the back space of the monastery to preach. It was going smoothly as usual today, but suddenly…”

“True follower of the Mist appeared.”

The abbot nodded silently.

“I’m ashamed to say this, but I really thought we were being attacked. It felt like facing the eyes of the devil. My heart is still pounding.”

Despite the fact that they had enough to judge and punish the factions impersonating them, the true follower did nothing but steal the decree sent by the royal family.

And Jereon received that decree from a man in a tavern.

In other words, that man was…

“How long have you been preaching the doctrine of the Mist?”

“It’s been about two weeks. Why?”

“Two weeks should be enough to master it to some extent.”

While the abbot, who didn’t understand the words, was puzzled, Jereon put the document back into his embrace.

“I’ll borrow the book a bit longer. I haven’t finished reading it yet.”

“Weren’t you here to protect us?”

Jereon flickered his eyes, as if wondering what nonsense it was.

“What do you expect from an old man who doesn’t know when he’ll die? You always have Lord Lumendel by your side, don’t you? Trust that he’ll protect you and don’t worry.”

With that, he got up from his seat and left the room.

As he left, he could hear the abbot’s desperate plea for salvation, but Jereon ignored it as if he hadn’t heard anything.

Eventually, when he came out of the monastery gate, Mark was there to greet him.

“Is it all over?”

“Yeah. I feel like there’s more to replace out than what I’ve discovered…”

With a bitter expression, Jereon looked up at the night sky.

Tonight, the sky seemed even more obscure, not even showing the usual stars.

“A fake follower. It’s surprising in many ways that that big-eared woman would allow such things…”

“Should we send a letter to the Order of Knights?”

“Forget it. Do you think either of us would want to get involved with her again? It’s better if we handle this ourselves.”

Jereon waved his hand in refusal.

Mark, too, sighed with relief, as if he didn’t really want to do that.

“Well then, shall we return to the inn for tonight?”

“No, you go back first. I have somewhere else to go.”

“Where at this late hour…?”

“I don’t know either. I’ll just go wherever my energy takes me.”

Leaving Mark bewildered, Jereon turned his steps toward some unknown place.

A deserted alleyway a short distance from the street.

A strange black Mist, unseen from the direction of the monastery, filled the surroundings.

Despite the somewhat ominous atmosphere, Jereon stepped into the alley without any indication of hesitation.

“No need to be on guard. Unlike earlier, I came alone this time.”

Speaking to the empty air, there was no response.

“Young man, have you been living in delusion? Can’t you feel it? There’s no one else around here but me…”

Just when he thought there was no response again,

-Susss

The dense Mist gradually lifted, revealing a man within it.

“… ”

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]

The man, with sharp eyes and dark hair, looked at Jereon in silence with a faint smile.

A man with a strange aura.

He was the same man Jereon met in the tavern earlier.

“Are there more stories to tell?”

The man opened his mouth with an indifferent gaze.

“If it’s about my life story, three days and nights won’t be enough! But even if not, I think there’s plenty to talk about between us.”

The man chuckled at Jereon’s nonchalant response.

“Now it’s funny to talk about it, but you’re a follower of the Mist, aren’t you? The true follower of the Mist, not the fakes in the monastery.”

The man didn’t respond.

“But whether it’s you or me, it seems like today is the first time we’ve seen each other. Did you come to this city to replace out the identity of the faction impersonating the Mist’s followers?”

“I don’t have an obligation to answer.”

The man didn’t seem to want to reveal his thoughts, just like in the tavern.

“I guess I’ll have to give you trust first. So, go ahead and ask me anything. I promise to answer any questions sincerely.”

The man’s gaze was still full of distrust and suspicion.

“Don’t hesitate to ask. You also left your energy here to talk to me because you had something to say, didn’t you?”

With a noncommittal silence, the man finally opened his mouth after a short period of quiet contemplation.

The man, after sorting out his thoughts, finally spoke.

“What’s your purpose in chasing them?”

“Didn’t I tell you in my tavern? It’s the unfinished business of an old man nearing death, perhaps? I just want to know for you. Not the fakes made by the royal plans, but the real followers of the Black Mist.”

At the mention of the royal plans, the man’s eyes subtly shifted.

Catching that moment, Jereon spoke up immediately.

“Seems like you still don’t know everything. How about it? Will you make a deal with me?”

“A deal?”

“Yeah, a deal! Regardless of what you did in the past or where you belong now, aren’t our purposes aligned? Sharing what we don’t know with each other. It’s a simple trade of knowledge. What do you say?”

“I refuse.”

The man immediately expressed his refusal, as if there was no value in considering it.

“Why?”

“I feel like I’ll be at a disadvantage.”

It was for a very simple reason.

“Hmm. You’re indeed a cautious person. Alright. Then, let me extend goodwill from my side once again.”

Jereon took out the document he received from the tavern.

“Do you know who made this book?”

“…?”

There would undoubtedly be the owner of the name written on the back of the book.

However, Jereon thought.

That person, Dio Hafenkus, the man wouldn’t know.

“From your expression, it doesn’t seem like you know, which is natural. People who know that name on this land are few and far between.”

“That sounds like you know?”

Jereon responded as if waiting for it.

“Of course! Hafenkus is a name of power. Causing chaos in this land long ago…”

In an instant, Jereon felt a strange presence from behind and quickly turned his eyes.

However, only his eyes turned, not his head.

Because he had a strong premonition that turning his head could lead to his death.

[…]

A mysterious black Mist spreading in both directions of sight.

A chilling sensation, as if touching ice, stimulated his neck.

A white hand wrapped around Jereon’s wrinkled neck.

At the fingertips, crimson nails, as if pulling out a dagger, aimed for his vein.

“Oh, miss. The atmosphere seems even more different than before, doesn’t it?”

After identifying the touch, Jereon quickly spoke, but there was no response.

Instead,

“What are you doing?”

The black-haired man’s mouth opened instead.

His gaze was not on Jereon, but on the woman behind him.

* * *

It’s an unexpected situation.

The woman who was silently listening suddenly materialized and is now gripping the old man’s neck without warning.

It’s not some petty threat or bluffing.

At this moment, Kaeram’s eyes are filled with enough bloodlust to cut the old man’s throat right away.

“I’m asking you. What are you doing?”

Despite the repeated questions, Kaeram’s mouth remained shut.

[…]

Just sending an indescribable gaze, suggesting not to bother.

As I takes a step closer, intending to approach,

“Urgh!”

She tightened her grip on the old man’s neck even more forcefully.

Regardless of the circumstances, she intends to kill.

I rushed out, shouting my incantation.

“Shadow 9th Form: Demonic Sword Control!”

[…!]

As a sudden headache hit Karam, she staggered back, clutching her head.

-Thunk!

At the same time as grabbing the right hand gripping the old man’s neck, I gently caught her falling body with one hand.

Her lively eyes were filled with unmistakable signs of displeasure.

“For the third time, I ask. Speak. What are you doing?”

[What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m trying to wring the life out of this senile old man. Can’t you see?]

“So, why suddenly…?”

[It’s my heart!]

Even I found myself speechless.

[It’s my heart!]

Why?

Why is that?

In Karam’s appearance reflected in my eyes, there was something incredibly unfamiliar.

Anger and vigor, and within them, a small yet palpable sense of fear.

Those complex emotions were now, distinctly visible in her eyes.

[Translator – Night]

[Proofreader – Gun]