Is It Bad That the Main Character’s a Roleplayer? [Novel] Chapter 167

Chapter 167: Making Excuses (7)

—Then we shall proceed with the hunt for Biryuho…

—But if the residents become agitated…

—If you cannot even reassure your own citizens, can you truly call yourself a city lord…?

They would suffer no losses during the hunt, no harm would come after it, and killing Biryuho might even put an end to the drought that afflicted the land every year.

Under those circumstances, how many of them could possibly justify withdrawing?

In the end, the meeting moved toward hunting Biryuho.

The only change was that the threat of opposition from the residents raised a new question: should the truth be circulated before the hunt, or should Biryuho be killed first and the truth revealed afterward?

Naturally, that started another argument.

—We will never reach a conclusion at this rate. Why don’t we all clear our heads and resume the discussion afterward?

—Agreed. We still need to debate relief measures in the event of an emergency and several other issues.

—I agree as well. To tell the truth, I have needed to use the lavatory for some time…

Was that the reason?

The Lord of Ednium—who had declared himself prepared to accept any sacrifice—looked somewhat dazed.

Even so, he did not neglect his responsibilities.

“…Then let us resume the meeting in thirty minutes. Is that acceptable to everyone?”

—Very well.

—That seems reasonable to me.

—Then we shall meet again in thirty minutes.

He swiftly gathered everyone’s consent and called a recess. As though they had been waiting for it, several participants severed their magical connections.

No, nearly all of them did.

Judging from the mage muttering something about wasted mana, they apparently did not want to expend any more of it than necessary.

—I hope you will have occasion to visit our city someday.

Even the narrow-eyed city lord winked at me before vanishing.

Part of me wanted to seize him immediately and demand a conversation. Another part wanted nothing of the sort.

It was contradiction in its purest form.

—My lord.

Before long, the only people remaining were those physically present in the hall and the Young City Lord of Camborough.

Silent longing and joy burned fiercely between the eyes of two people.

“When I first heard the story from Leon, I thought, ‘There is no way to stop this.’ I believed I could not save that child—and even if I could, that saving him was not a choice I had the right to make as a city lord.”

The Lord of Ednium gripped his own legs, which could no longer move without another person’s help.

His gaunt limbs, previously hidden beneath a blanket, were caught tightly between his dry hands.

“But all of you are telling me that I need not make that choice.”

Instead of staring at his legs for long, he suddenly looked up at me.

There was enough distance between us that he did not have to bend his neck to the breaking point.

“You are telling me that I need not abandon my son.”

That pulled me out of my complicated thoughts as well.

I could hardly allow my mind to wander before a parent who had resolved to sacrifice his son, only to discover that the boy might yet be saved.

—My lord…

Fortunately, he did not look at me for long.

His gaze shifted slightly toward the Young City Lord of Camborough. His aged face blurred through the projection.

“But I do not know whether my citizens will feel the same way.”

And there went the warmth of the moment.

“I regret saying this before that child and the Young City Lord of Camborough, but our city is filled with people who do not wish to incur Biryuho’s wrath.”

—Similar rumors are circulating in our city.

“This goes far beyond mere rumors.”

The city lord glanced toward the windows. For security reasons, every window in the banquet hall had been covered with thick fabric, leaving no view of the outside.

Even so, faint sounds appeared to be filtering through. I could still remember the people whispering as we made our way to the castle.

“Ever since enormous vines engulfed the forest immediately after the Archdemon’s subjugation, religious fervor in our city has risen high enough to touch the heavens.”

“Given time, I could surely persuade them eventually. But… when would that be? And will Leon remain safe until then?”

After speaking, the city lord closed his eyes.

“It is absurd for me to say this after trying to force a sacrifice upon others.”

Perhaps the face I had mistaken for composure was merely his own way of mourning.

“What is the problem? If killing it stops the land from drying up, would that not benefit the people as well?”

“Some people may refuse to accept the truth.”

“So?”

“He is worried that they might rebel…”

“Then crush their opposition by force.”

“That would make him a tyrant.”

“B-Berserker. Even if the ultimate outcome is just, a corrupt method will tarnish the result.”

“Berserker does not understand. The words of weaklings who lack even the will to struggle are not worth hearing.”

“No, what I mean is…”

“My lord.”

At that moment, someone who had stood silently in formation behind the city lord spoke.

He was an elderly butler whose white beard and neatly swept-back hair gave him an exceptionally austere appearance.

“Forgive my presumption, but may I offer a few words?”

“I have always listened to your counsel.”

The city lord answered readily, then turned toward us.

I could not tell whether he was gauging our reaction or seeking permission.

“If this is something we are permitted to hear.”

Judging from the Archmage’s reply, it was probably the latter.

The butler inclined his head before continuing.

“Long ago, you said that it was wrong to ignore the sacrifice of one person for the sake of peace enjoyed by everyone else.”

“You… That was…”

“We raised you to the position of city lord precisely because you were a man capable of saying such a thing. I believe your heart remains unchanged even now.”

“That was before I assumed this seat. To stand here and still demand everyone’s blood…”

“If Biryuho had taken an ordinary resident rather than the young lord, would you have made the same choice?”

The Lord of Ednium pressed his lips together.

“Of course… I would not.”

His voice was dense with emotion restrained to its limit.

“I know that the former city lord’s deeds have made you harsh toward yourself and toward the young lord. But… when the citizens learn the truth, I believe they will tell you that such harshness is unnecessary.”

The city lord clenched his teeth and lowered his head.

“…In the end, green hair has called forth blood once more. Has it not?”

“…!”

Wait, how did that arrow suddenly come flying in this direction?

I had been concentrating on the conversation between the butler and the city lord to clear away my useless thoughts, only to be caught completely off guard.

The sound of a faltering breath came from behind me. It seemed Dev had heard it too—which was hardly surprising at this distance.

“Sir, that is…”

“Blood spilled to set right what is wrong.”

“…?”

The butler chuckled, only to look suddenly apologetic. His gaze had landed on Dev, who had inadvertently become his example.

“Forgive me. That must have sounded like a strange tale to our guest.”

“…No, it’s fine.”

“Please do not take offense. Blood may be mentioned, but the superstition is by no means a negative one.”

The old man smiled kindly.

The city lord finally raised his head and joined the explanation.

“…That is correct. It carries no ill meaning. It is a signal announcing change and revolution.”

This beginning was quite different from the conversation I had once overheard.

This time, Dev flinched and lowered his head.

“…Does it not simply mean that blood will be spilled?”

“No. It is not nearly so simple.”

The city lord shook his head slightly, then quietly began the story.

“It began long ago, with the sin we committed when we stood by and allowed someone to die for the sake of preserving a hollow peace.”

“If you mean the story of someone assassinating the former city lord, I have heard it. His family later massacred innocent people.”

“Then this will be easier to explain.”

Perhaps he had managed to master his emotions. Stroking the armrest of his chair, the city lord spoke in a flat murmur.

I had never heard this story.

Presumably, I had missed it because I stormed out of the dining hall that day, and no opportunity to hear it had arisen afterward.

“After that day, we realized that the true fault lay with us. Another person’s suffering is never truly unrelated to our own, and standing by in the face of evil is ultimately no different from supporting it.”

This time, I felt little desire to interrupt.

“Therefore, we chose the green hair that symbolized the city lord’s death as our emblem. If green hair ever flew before us again, it would serve as a warning that we had once more remained silent before evil—and that blood would have to be spilled to overturn it.”

“…!”

Perhaps it was because I judged that those words would not harm Dev.

“Thus, the blood called forth by green hair is righteous. It bears the weight of the courage required to resist injustice.”

Or perhaps it was because I knew my intervention would be meaningless regardless.

“In that respect, the Hero and the Hero’s companions have brought us extraordinary fortune. You reminded me of a truth I had forgotten and even reduced the amount of blood we must spill.”

“Yet how did I forget it and demand that child’s sacrifice?” the city lord lamented.

“…My lord.”

At that moment, Dev pulled his hood over his head and spoke hesitantly.

“What is it?”

“Do you… not resent him?”

“Whom do you mean?”

“The person who… killed the city lord.”

“Of course not.”

As for what expression he wore—who could say?

“We have no right to resent him.”

But it probably was not a bad one.

“But many people died because of what he did… And he probably acted out of personal emotion…”

“The emotion that compelled him to act is irrelevant. Whether it was survival or revenge, the fundamental reason he could endure no more and took up a blade himself was that no one else stopped the city lord.”

If Dev truly had committed the assassination that ignited the massacre, these words could not fill the entire black hole inside his chest.

“If we had stopped the city lord’s tyranny from the beginning, would he ever have taken up that blade? If the citizens who possessed rights had united and restrained their lord, would such a tragedy have occurred? By ignoring those atrocities, we were the ones who sent the message: ‘You may continue. We will remain silent.’ It is the same mistake we nearly repeated this time. Therefore, that blade was ultimately born from our original sin, and the massacre that followed was the karma of our own deeds. We cannot condemn him.”

But perhaps it filled one shovelful of that emptiness.

At least one.

“Some ignorant people still defend the dead city lord. Others suffered losses so painful that they harbor resentment despite knowing it is unjust. But at least those of us who rose up at the time believe this: we do not resent the person who exposed our original sin.”

That was assuredly not meaningless.

* * *

Mia, the Young City Lord of Camborough, stared at the spaces where the magical projections had vanished.

The Hero and the Hero’s companions, the Lord of Ednium who had hosted the meeting, and his butler had all occupied those places moments ago.

“Goodness. Being a city lord is no joke. Imagine having to sacrifice your own son.”

“Because that is the easiest choice.”

Johanna was not present. This was not the sort of meeting to which a young city lord could bring even her personal aide.

There was, however, a mage with whom conversation was fairly easy.

Feeling somewhat at ease, Mia rested her head against the back of her chair.

“Is that not so? When I spill blood for the sake of others, I need only consider my own courage. But when another person spills blood for my sake, I must first consider how I will repay the full weight of what they lost.”

“Well, that’s true. We live in a world where even ordinary goods must be purchased with money. No one can buy another person’s blood and life for free. Still, you have plenty of money, don’t you?”

“But I also possess authority. In a situation like this, authority is more poison than advantage. A single mistake makes it easy for others to condemn your actions as an abuse of power.”

“You could simply ignore them.”

“Most people probably would. Ednium, however, has a history of its citizens replacing their city lord with their own hands. I doubt that particular lord is acting cautiously because he fears the same fate, but… the history remains.”

“He’s far too good for his own sake. I wouldn’t live that way. It sounds exhausting.”

Mia blinked at the mage’s words.

Was it exhausting?

It certainly was difficult to pursue nothing but one’s own moral standard without anyone to guide the way. Endlessly testing and reflecting upon oneself was unquestionably arduous.

“But if the reward for that hardship is the people outside, then is it not worth the effort?”

Even so, she did not regret it.

She could not.

“Had I—and that city lord—not lived in such a way, those people and his butler would never have raised their voices first.”

The reward for all the difficulty she had endured was resounding endlessly beyond those walls.

How could she possibly regret it?

“Shalot.”

“You called, my lady?”

Mia rang the bell used to summon her attendant, then briefly lowered her eyelids.

*At certain moments, there is an answer swifter than words. It is the sword held in your hand.*

Her mother—a graduate of Münmund Knight Academy and a formally recognized knight—beckoned from a fragment of memory beyond the darkness.

Mia opened her eyes.

“Bring me Mother’s sword.”

“…Yes!”

“No one knows where Biryuho resides, so locating it will undoubtedly take several days. I will join them before then, in my capacity as the representative of this city.”

She was not a formally qualified knight, but she had at least grasped the beginnings of the path.

Even if she could not participate in the subjugation itself, that remained true.

“Everyone is standing on my side. Surely I may indulge this much selfishness. Would you not agree, Mage?”

“I’m not a citizen of this city, so asking me won’t help you much. But… I suspect everyone will be too excited to follow you to even think of stopping you.”

If she could see her beloved—and the beast that had tried to steal him away—she would gladly go there.

.
.
.

“Found you.”

[You…!]

“This time, I won’t let you escape.”

She would gladly witness the fall of that spirit beast.