Chapter 837
"Move in turns, one by one!"
Mid-step, Ian turned at the shout behind him.
From the docked smuggling ships, beastfolk and fairies carrying supply crates were disembarking in orderly lines under Charlotte’s direction.
Their faces showed only one thing: a desire to finish quickly and rest. They didn’t even seem aware that moving together like this had already become natural to them. It might also have been the unbearable, salty, and fishy stench filling the air.
"Indeed, they are as resilient as one would expect from those who follow Your Grace."
Hector’s rough voice came from ahead. He was currently leading Ian toward the fortress.
He had suggested rest first, but Ian declined and requested a private audience immediately.
"Most wouldn’t be used to long voyages. Yet they seem perfectly fine even after so much time at sea."
"They’ve got a natural sense of balance."
Not all of them, of course.
Ian glanced to the rear, where Miguel, swaying slightly near Nila, was being supported between Diana and Lily.
"Once again, I sincerely thank you for generously providing food," Hector added, a creased smile forming at his lips as he followed Ian’s gaze. "All of my people will praise Your Grace’s noble and merciful decision."
"Anyone would, seeing them like that," Ian replied calmly, turning his head to take in the city rising along the slope.
Gaunt, hollow-faced residents were beginning to gather in clusters. Theodore, acting on Hector’s orders, must have summoned them from across the city.
"From the looks of it, there should be enough to feed them well for several days."
He realized their numbers were far too small for a city of this size. Even accounting for those out on patrol, it was clear many had already lost their lives.
That also explained why there was more than enough space for Ian’s forces to stay.
"Rumors truly can’t be trusted. This way, Your Grace," Hector said calmly as he rounded the corner of the fortress wall.
As expected, the entrance lay on the side opposite the sea.
Following him inside, Ian finally said again, his gaze settling on Hector’s back, "Sounds like you’ve heard quite a few unsettling rumors."
Hector’s limp was due to the prosthetic below his right knee. Calling it a prosthetic was generous—it was little more than a steel rod in place of a leg.
As he headed toward the guards at the entrance, Hector answered, "You are the northern superhuman who slew a dragon, are you not? And the one who executed the corrupted Duke of the West."
That was enough to make Ian’s eyes twitch slightly.
He hadn’t expected Hector to bring that up so directly.
Edward Kralen, the Western Duke Ian had killed, had been both Mev’s target of revenge and Hector’s superior.
“And recently, you even slew the Archdemon of the Deep Sea. This is the first time I’ve heard the full extent of Your Grace’s achievements, though your fame had already spread throughout the archipelago,” Hector added, as if oblivious to Ian’s gaze, before stepping through the entrance.
Passing between the stiff, frozen guards dressed in archipelago attire, Ian entered fully before speaking again.
"You speak as though you had no idea Edward Kralen had fallen to corruption."
Hector paused for just a moment before replying, "Hard as it may be to believe, that’s the truth."
He then resumed his pace through the dark corridor, acting as if nothing had happened. Each time his prosthetic struck the stone floor, a dull metallic clank echoed.
"I had known him for quite a long time and was even personally acquainted with him, yet I never noticed a thing. When I first heard the news, I couldn’t believe it."
As if keeping rhythm, Hector turned toward the staircase leading along the inner wall, glancing back at Ian.
"But once I accepted the truth, certain doubts I’d carried for a long time finally made sense. For instance, how he could handle those heretics so effortlessly."
"For now, I’ll take your word for it. Whether it’s true or not, I’ll find out soon enough," Ian replied with a slight curl of his lips.
Hector let out a low chuckle and stepped onto the stairs with his prosthetic leg. "So the rumors I heard weren’t entirely exaggerated. Even after seeing us barely holding on in isolation like this, you still haven’t let go of your doubts."
"That said, I doubt you feel particularly favorable toward me," Ian added as he followed into the narrow stairway. "I’ve heard that it was only after Edward Kralen’s death that the situation in the archipelago began to surface."
"You seem to know quite a lot about the situation here... But I simply assumed there must have been some misunderstanding or error. I’ve never once resented you, Agent of the Saint," Hector replied with a faint laugh.
He continued up the stairs with his uneven gait. "It is true that he had long dominated and controlled the archipelago. But he could not have suppressed the ambitions of those heretics forever."
"So even if Edward Kralen had lived, you believe it would have ended up like this eventually," Ian said as he turned the bend halfway up the stairs.
Continuing upward, Hector glanced back at him. "That’s right. And besides, you’ve already done me a great service in the inner sea."
"From the sound of it, things weren’t exactly stable back then either. Impressive that word reached you," Ian murmured.
Reaching the corridor above, Hector turned back with a dry laugh.
"Reconnaissance is a duty that must be carried out even at the risk of one’s life, Agent of the Saint. All the more so when more than half of the corrupted fleet had sailed into the Inner Sea."
"It wasn’t me who wiped out the Black Fleet. It was the archdemon Bukikia."
Well, I did sink one ship myself.
Ian stepped out. A straight corridor stretched ahead, its surfaces discolored by sea wind, stark and functional, just as the fortress exterior had suggested.
"How modest of you... But I wasn’t only referring to that corrupted fleet."
Hector raised his hand slightly as if guiding the way, and continued walking.
"You slew the archdemon Bukikia, did you not? Even if the fleet had been destroyed, if that creature had made it safely into the Black Sea, it would have spelled disaster."
"Not that the heathens would’ve lost more of their strength?" Ian asked, narrowing his eyes slightly as he walked alongside him.
Hector let out a faint, ominous chuckle. "The Black Fleet is not the extent of their power. They conceal their true form—something that can only manifest within their domain. And at the time, nearly all the seas of the archipelago were within that domain."
"So you’re saying they could kill an archdemon without suffering significant losses..."
"There would have been losses. But in exchange, they would have gained something far greater by making use of that archdemon," Hector said, then gestured ahead.
A servant standing at the far end of the corridor bowed slightly and opened the closed door behind him.
Ian added quietly, "Because it would’ve been offered as tribute to the ancient god sealed in the Black Sea."
"You truly know an astonishing amount... Yes, Your Grace. That’s correct." Hector replied with admiration, his single eye gleaming meaningfully as he looked at Ian. "Simply taking something on the verge of death allowed them to expand their domain enormously in no time."
"I had my suspicions. So they really did retrieve it." Ian let out a dry laugh.
It was enough to confirm that all of his prior guesses had been right.
"That was around the time we became completely isolated. We were nearing our limits in many ways, but it seems the heavenly goddesses sent Your Grace here before it was too late."
With a faint, peculiar smile, Hector gestured politely toward the office beyond the open door.
"Shall we discuss the details inside, Your Grace?"
Nodding, Ian stepped into the hastily tidied room.
At its center stood a round table with pewter cups and a bottle of liquor. Beyond it, a worn desk and bookshelves lined the space.
Through a wide, open window on one side, only the gray outer wall could be seen—likely overlooking the inner courtyard.
"Shall I have a simple meal prepared?"
"No need. Let’s just drink."
Answering Hector, Ian sat casually at the round table, his gaze drifting to the large map hanging on the opposite wall.
It depicted the entire archipelago—four large islands spaced apart, surrounded by what seemed like over a hundred smaller ones.
The island in the upper right, closest to the mainland, was Milav.
As usual, it’s probably not entirely accurate...
Villanueva was marked along the southeastern coast of the island, positioned between the inner archipelago and the mainland.
Ian scanned the several marked sea fortresses.
"I will be speaking privately with His Grace. Ensure no one approaches."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Hector dismissed the attendant and closed the door behind him. He approached the table, picked up a cup, and placed it in front of Ian.
"To be honest, I assumed you had learned of our situation through the Great Church. That they had assigned you a mission and sent you here."
The trace of humor was gone from his tone.
Ian turned toward him calmly as Hector poured a cloudy liquor into his cup and stepped back.
"But the Great Church has not been mentioned even once. So... if I may be so bold, could I ask you again, Your Grace?"
"Go ahead," Ian answered easily.
Setting the bottle down, Hector placed both hands on the table and said. "Did you truly come here with no connection whatsoever to the Great Church?"
Meeting that deeply sunken gaze, Ian held back a bitter smile.
For a moment, it crossed his mind that perhaps Hector hadn’t completely abandoned his faith in the Grand Church—that a sliver of hope still remained. Maybe it was that very hope that had kept them going this long.
"As I said, I came here of my own will."
However, that didn’t mean Ian intended to lie.
Especially not if this man turned out to be a pawn of the Round Table.
"I received no orders or requests from the Great Church, or from anyone else."
Hector’s breathing halted as Ian finished in an even tone.
He stared at Ian for a moment in silence.
"...I see." Letting out a quiet, heavy breath, Hector picked up the cup before him and set it down again. He filled it, and without offering a toast or even sitting, raised and drained it in one go.
Ian neither pointed it out nor took offense. He simply sat there, one leg crossed, watching him in silence.
"Thank you, Your Grace." At last, Hector set the cup down with a faint clink and looked directly at Ian. "Thanks to you, I can finally abandon this island without regret."