Chapter 031: The Holy Church Takes Action~~
One week later—Italy.
As night spread across the sky, a light fog—unusual in southern Europe—gently enveloped the small town, which looked rather deserted after dark. Compared with the bustling crowds of Germany, perhaps it was because this place was more rural. Even during the day, a carriage might take a long time to trundle along the little dirt-and-stone roads. Cars were even rarer.
The area was surrounded by vast farms belonging to local landowners, and the town center had formed around them. Now, however, several unwelcome visitors had arrived in this peaceful little town.
A few Executors in black, their faces stern and murderous.
The fog thickened. Rimuru blinked his golden eyes as he watched the Executors pass a short distance away, then sighed softly. He slowly retreated into the wall and slipped back into the home of a local family, pressing a finger to his lips. "Shh."
In front of him, three green wraiths held a family of three captive. Pale-faced, they trembled in terror—
"I won't hurt you, but I hope you won't bring trouble on yourselves. All right?"
A week ago, Altrouge had appeared in Germany. Three days later, negotiations between Altrouge and the White Winged Duke had broken down. Already furious over the loss of her trusted subordinate, Altrouge unleashed her wrath on the White Winged Duke's territory. The two fought day and night, destroying three German cities in the process. The Magic Association and the Holy Church had been forced to join forces to suppress the conflict, and even Zelretch had to step in to ease tensions, saying, "Do me a favor."
That battle had given Rimuru a chance to catch his breath, but the reprieve didn't last. Driven by the Blood-Sucking Impulse and desperate for blood, he'd lost control after his first attempt to resist had failed. After attacking several innocent people, he was immediately marked by the Church, which launched a new hunt for him. He'd already fled to southern Europe, where the Church held greater sway!
From then on, Rimuru regretted what he'd done. For the first time, he understood that even the resolve of someone who'd lived two lives couldn't resist a curse laid by one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors—a powerful being's curse, paid for with life, immortality, and soul.
He had no choice but to accept reality. He began regularly searching for prey—criminals and wicked people—whose blood he could drink to suppress the impulse and keep himself from losing control and hurting anyone else.
He'd thought about asking the Church for help. He'd even threatened a few priests. But ordinary Executors couldn't undo his curse, and he didn't dare approach anyone more powerful... His wounds still hadn't healed. More accurately, they'd grown worse. Even the curse on the ordinary wounds he'd suffered in battle could only be suppressed by standard purification. Healing them took repeated applications of holy healing spells, time and time again.
In these circumstances, Rimuru was convinced that the Church's powerful figures would sooner "purify" him and send him to meet God than pay the price of treating a curse inflicted by one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors.
After all... Brad's curse had a very clear purpose. He hadn't cursed Rimuru to die. He'd cursed him to crave blood, and to inevitably become a Dead Apostle. Once the Church understood this, they certainly wouldn't let him live. Would they really allow a being capable of defeating one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors to become the next Ancestor?!
The Church wouldn't take that risk—
And Rimuru wasn't willing to take the risk of trusting the Church, either.
His wounds were too severe. Truly, far too severe. If devouring Brad hadn't granted him the Earl's ability to recover his wounds and strength by drinking blood, the Blood-Sucking Impulse would have been all but useless as a curse. He might not have lasted against the increasingly powerful Executors hunting him—
"Heh. Altrouge didn't come after me, but I almost died at the hands of the Church instead."
Rimuru sighed. It wasn't as if he hadn't learned how to make wounds deepen, refuse to heal, and become infected. But it was precisely because he'd learned how that he understood there was no cure.
"The worst part is the blow to your heart at the end. As a Phantasmal Species, your heart isn't a vital organ, but... the concept behind that curse is constantly destroying your life force. Even if your other curses are suppressed, they'll keep worsening as your wounds deteriorate."
"Ah, healing it would actually be simple, but I can't be interrupted..." Rimuru ignored the trembling family by the wall and leaned against it, exhausted. "The real problem is the pursuit... Fighting will only make my injuries worse—"
"If all else fails, you could ask..."
"No. That would drag Achelotte into the whirlpool between the Dead Apostles and the Church... And if the truth came out, even if Achelotte and the Director managed to protect me, I'd have no way to keep staying at the Clock Tower."
Rimuru knew what mattered most. The Director's and the three great aristocratic families' support at the Clock Tower, together with his own political standing, were his greatest assets and safeguards for the future. Even if this body died, he couldn't let anything happen to the Clock Tower.
Otherwise, he really would have nowhere to stand in this world.
No, that wasn't quite true.
Rimuru smiled bitterly. At that point, he'd really have no choice... but to join the Dead Apostles.
"Come to think of it, why did I go to Germany in the first place...? I knew Europe was the heart of the struggle between the Dead Apostles and the Church. I knew Germany belonged to the Dead Apostles..." Rimuru sighed. "And I went looking for Dead Apostles with great fanfare. The Clock Tower's smooth sailing had blinded me..."
"In short, you got carried away."
"...Well, fair enough." Rimuru tugged his coat to cover the wound on his neck once more, then smoothed his golden hair. To avoid revealing his identity and prevent anyone from spying on him, he hadn't used water Magecraft or taken Rimuru's usual form during this time. Instead, he'd completely adopted his latest identity: the appearance of the White Knight, Brad, acting as a vampire and a wraith.
Until he found a way to suppress or undo the Blood-Sucking Impulse, Rimuru intended to keep this appearance—
"Now that they've tracked us here, we should leave as soon as possible to avoid a fight."
"Any ideas?"
Rimuru left the house and slipped into the thick fog, his figure fading away. He shook his head. "If possible, I'd like to return to Germany and look for the Wizard Marshal, Zelretch. He's a troublesome busybody, but in this situation, his meddling might actually help me—"
"I only hope he doesn't take me on as a disciple..."
Zelretch, the Jewel of the Wizard Marshal, was a strange old man who loved meddling in worldly affairs and getting into trouble. The original work described his character as "laughing at good in the name of evil"—in other words, he'd take offense on behalf of evil and mock what people called good. Considering that in the Nasuverse, "good" meant the Church or someone like Emiya Kiritsugu...
Even the Magic Association's definition of good was twisted in a way that suited magi. Rimuru couldn't say he disagreed. If he'd seen as many parallel worlds as the old man, he'd probably mock the malicious nature of this world, too.
And from the old man's approval of Rin and the principles he'd instilled in Tohsaka Nagato, it seemed his sense of right and wrong was actually quite sound. Well... with his values in order, Rimuru could at least have a conversation with him—
"But didn't you want to add him to your list of things to devour not long ago...?"
"There's no helping it. To be honest, unless I have no other choice, I really don't want to owe him a favor. It'd make it harder for me to attack him later." As Rimuru walked, he thought, "The ability to travel between worlds is too tempting."
"...It's almost time for you to drink blood," Great Sage suddenly reminded him. "Forty-nine hours have passed since your last feeding."
"Yeah. This town probably doesn't have any particularly wicked people. I'll find a sleeping vagrant later and buy some blood."
Rimuru took out a few bills, then suddenly smiled. "Come to think of it, I forgot to leave that family some money."
"Have a familiar deliver it. Returning yourself would be dangerous."
"Ah."
Rimuru nodded and casually tapped the air. A clear ball of water instantly transformed into a bird and flew off in a circle—
A few seconds later, just as the familiar arrived, it saw that several Executors had already sealed off the house—
"Damn it!" Rimuru's pupils contracted. He immediately understood what had happened!
After he left, that family had decided to inform on him!!
But that wasn't what angered Rimuru! He didn't care about being reported. But... it meant they'd seen Magecraft!!
The Magic Association had a rule that Mystery must be kept secret. The Church, on the other hand, had no such restriction. But unlike nuns, who believed the innocent were blameless, the Executors believed in purging every heretic—even if all you'd done was... come into contact with a demon!!
And now that the Church and the Magic Association had signed a peace treaty, covering up Mystery was a shared priority—
A few minutes later—
The thick fog completely concealed the bloodshed in the town. Red blood trickled through the wooden floorboards of the house, drop by drop. Rimuru stood coldly before the little home where he'd once taken shelter. The blood-red claw marks around his hand slowly faded as the black mist behind him formed tendrils and lunged forward, devouring the corpses of several Executors. The blood they replenished restored the latest wounds on Rimuru's body in a flash.
Even so, Rimuru couldn't help coughing. A thin stream of blood flowed from his mouth.
He looked at the silently weeping boy, glanced at the motionless bodies of the couple on the ground, and quietly set the money pouch in front of the boy. Then he turned to leave.
The boy wasn't very young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, so Rimuru figured he'd know what to do next. He could leave the town and live under an assumed name for a long time with the money in the pouch.
"Are you a vampire?"
Just then, the boy wiped his tears and asked hoarsely, "When they came to town during the day, they said they were searching for demons... and you just now..."
Rimuru had been in such a hurry when he rushed over that he hadn't hidden his form. He'd flown straight in with his bat wings spread.
"So what if I am?" Rimuru quietly turned around and cut him off. "I know what you're going to say, but the truth is, I'm not."
"I can't turn you into a vampire, either. I can't give you power."
"I just forgot to leave the money for my stay, so I came back to pay. Take the money and leave. Live a good life."
With that, Rimuru sighed. The Executors were dead, which meant his whereabouts had once again been exposed. Again and again—
"You brought them here!!"
Rimuru was just about to leave as quickly as possible when the boy suddenly shouted, his voice full of bitter resentment. "You should take responsibility!"
"I should kill you," Rimuru said coldly, without turning around. "You and your family were supposed to die."
"Good and evil aren't simple things. If your parents hadn't informed on me, they wouldn't have died, and they would've had money."
"But they chose to believe in justice."
"I can't say they trusted the wrong people. But everyone has to bear the consequences of their choices."
After speaking, Rimuru fell silent for a moment, then instantly transformed into a bat and flew away. His heart felt complicated, and helpless.
"I'm sorry."
Amid the wind, Rimuru murmured to himself, "Between justice and kindness, I... choose myself."
Meanwhile, inside a certain church, a priest sat with his eyes closed, praying in silence.
Suddenly, the candles around him flickered a few times before the wind put them out.
Figures in the darkness turned into shadows, relaying messages one after another.
"The Dead Apostle who wandered like a ghost has been found..." The priest opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to the report. "Judging by his appearance and abilities, it's very likely he can be identified as one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors... the White Knight, Brad."
"Doesn't that mean our people are likely to die?" A middle-aged man, seated quietly in the audience in the shadows as though he didn't exist, spoke up. "Still, if he's the White Knight, why hide?"
"There are reports that an unknown magus clashed with the Princess of the Black in Berlin, Germany, a week ago. The White Knight may have been seriously injured as a result."
"That's a good opportunity." The middle-aged man immediately stood and spoke. "Does this have anything to do with the White Winged Duke?"
"Hard to say." The priest raised his eyelids slightly and said softly, "There's no need to concern ourselves with the White Winged Duke and the Princess of the Black. Let them fight among themselves. It does us no harm... But now that the White Knight has ended up in the south—"
"That's a good opportunity... Send our top Executors. Which first-rate Executors are currently in Italy?"
"There should be three, but..."
"What is it?"
"..." The middle-aged man brought his hands together slightly in front of his chest and said softly, "One of the Executors has a pregnant wife. In normal circumstances—"
"What does he want?" The priest asked, slightly taken aback.
The chance to hunt one of the Dead Apostle Ancestors didn't come often. It was not only a duty of the Church, but also a great honor.
At the priest's question, the middle-aged man raised his brows. The face of a young man who seemed tireless, carrying out his duties as if he were punishing himself, suddenly appeared in his mind. Frowning, he said, "He'd probably choose to stay."
Chapter 032: Can You Remember the Name of the Person You Saved?
"Great Sage, show me the map."
At dawn, sunlight soaked through the damp leaves. Rimuru casually snapped off a twig and squeezed a few drops of liquid from it. Using them as a catalyst, he drew in the mana drifting through nature—the magical energy naturally produced in the world, known as the Greater Source—and formed a mist. After cleaning his hair and face with it, he slowly unfolded the map and marked two locations.
"That means you're getting farther and farther from Germany."
"The Executors from a few days ago were practically top-tier. Next time, they'll probably send even more powerful 'trump cards' after me. By continuing to use Brad's appearance, I've reinforced the mistaken belief that I'm the White Knight. They'll assume my priority is to meet up with the Princess of the Black."
Rimuru studied the map calmly. He closed his eyes and carefully went over his escape route again before speaking. "Besides, the rumors from a few days ago said that after the Princess of the Black and the White Winged Duke fell out, she didn't immediately return to northern Europe when their battle ended. Instead, she continued south..."
"You think she might still be planning to hunt you?"
"Maybe. But the Church will certainly think she's coming to assist the White Knight, Brad. So if I turn around and head back now, I might run into the Princess of the Black. Or the Church might guess my route correctly and keep hunting me."
"We'll have to take a detour and head back through Croatia. It's famous as a tourist destination, and the crowds are diverse. It'll be easier to hide our tracks there." Rimuru made his decision and spoke quietly.
Then he added bitterly, "If the Princess of the Black really pushes me too far, I'll run to the holy city of the Vatican and fight her there!!"
"..."
"Then what now...?"
"First, I'll find some blood to store. I can't buy any over the next few days... There's too much risk of being exposed..."
A few days later, in a border town in Croatia—
Rimuru walked quietly through the night, feeling somewhat relieved at last. As he'd expected, the Church's attention had been thoroughly distracted by Brad and the Princess of the Black. After getting a few days of proper rest, he'd drawn closer to Croatia, and at last he felt a little more like a traveler wandering the world.
And the greatest benefit of not being hunted was that he could finally set his mind to treating that damn internal injury!
Night blanketed the quiet little town. Rimuru casually pushed open the door of a bar whose sign bore faint traces of Magecraft. A Suggestion Magecraft kept casual passersby away. It was called a bar, but in a small border town in the late eighties, it was really no more than a tavern with a few extra sofas.
Even so, a bar for magi should be a decent place for Wild Magi to gather... and trade information.
With that thought in mind, Rimuru walked down the long corridor. After pushing open two old-fashioned wooden doors, he stepped into a "paradise" filled with dim lights and laughter. That was the bar's name.
Paradise of Desire. A rather interesting, brazenly named gray bar.
For magi, indulging one's desires wasn't exactly a good thing. That didn't mean the sort of indulgence people usually thought of. It meant that if one didn't practice restraint, it was easy to lose oneself in Magecraft and the mundane world.
And what was most popular in a bar like this wasn't some kind of mana transfer, but... the alcoholic drinks infused with various kinds of magical energy behind the counter, and the exchanges of bodily fluids conducted in private. Of course, by "bodily fluids," they meant things like blood, not... ahem.
Because of the Blood-Sucking Impulse, Rimuru had become quite familiar with places like this and the transactions that went on there. He'd even started to get used to them.
Still, compared with the gloomy, oppressive bars he'd visited before, the magi here seemed much more... enthusiastic for some reason. The atmosphere was livelier, too.
He couldn't help getting caught up in the mood. After half a month of exhaustion, he suddenly wanted to relax. Maybe even enjoy a little mana transfer. At least, although he was a Slime and didn't get riled up by hormones, he could still feel the effects of the magical energy transmitted through such an act.
Of course, the most important thing was... to unwind.
Rimuru ordered a drink and sat quietly on a sofa. With no particular expectations, he couldn't be bothered to make the first move. He thought about what to do next and began considering the chances of meeting the Jewel of the Wizard Marshal.
Whatever the case, although Rimuru had changed his appearance once again—and this time had chosen the plain face of an Executor—his aura gave him away. Before long, a Wild Magus had her eye on him. She brushed back her hair and sat down beside him.
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