Chapter 84

It was a small tavern that smelled of stale air and old yeast. Instead of chairs, old wine barrels cut in half were lined up around the room. Holger and I sat at a dimly lit table in the corner of the shop. Soon, steaming mugs of hot beer were brought to us.

“A toast to the boss’s happiness.”

Was he actually concerned about my happiness? It looked to me like he was just enjoying my recent misfortune—specifically, my run-in with the Saint.

“And a toast to your health, Holger.”

Thanks to the warm beer, the sensation of alcohol rose through my nose, and a sudden heat flared in my chest.

“Gah, that hits the spot. This is some good beer.”

Watching Holger slurp his beer with such relish made me pick up my own pace.

“On a cold day like this, you really can’t beat it.”

In Saxens, every shop brews its own beer, so the flavors vary wildly. This place lived up to Holger’s recommendation; it was filthy, but the beer was excellent. I’d have to bring Akito here sometime.

“So, what is it the boss wants to hear?”

“Nothing major. I just wanted to know what the Condemnation Bandits have been up to lately. Who their victims were, that sort of thing. I was curious to hear the details.”

I thought I saw a sharp glint in Holger’s small eyes.

“Is the boss’s next target the Condemnation Bandits?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want anything to do with people that scary. I just got curious about the group that’s been causing such a stir in Dresden. Think of it as something to talk about over drinks.”

Holger continued to stare into my eyes for a moment, but eventually, he seemed to conclude that I wasn’t lying.

“True enough, it’s got nothing to do with a man from the City Guard. That’s the Royal Guard’s jurisdiction.”

Gulping down his beer, Holger began to speak quite cheerfully. As expected of a first-rate informant, he knew the details of the incidents intimately.

“They started operating in Dresden last autumn. Let’s start with the most recent incident, the one from yesterday.”

It was believed the Condemnation Bandits raided the Emotzel Temple in the middle of last night. The exact number of intruders was unknown. The victims were the head of the temple, Bishop Xaver, and two of his close confidants.

“If they broke in, does that mean Xaver was up to no good as well?”

“Oh yeah. For a priest supposedly serving God, he was a real piece of work.”

According to the Book of Condemnation—the written accusations of crimes left behind by the bandits—Xaver had been repeatedly committing lewd acts against the young boys and girls who came to the temple as apprentices, under the guise of “Admonition.”

“It was horrific. He’d tell them that their laziness or playfulness was proof of a demon possessing their bodies, so he had to perform an exorcism. Then he’d tie them to the Holy Tower so they couldn’t move and violate them.”

That’s messed up. I didn’t think the leader of even the shadiest cult back home would do something that depraved. …Or maybe they actually do, and I just don’t know about it? My stomach churned just listening to it.

“There had already been several suicides, and the rumors were bad, but…”

The Bishop and his men were reportedly found dead with multiple knives driven into them while they were chained to the Holy Tower. I’ll refrain from mentioning exactly where they were stabbed or what had been cut off.

“The money he’d presumably been hoarding had vanished into thin air. They haven’t found any ledgers, so they don’t even know the total amount.”

He’d also apparently embezzled a significant amount of tax revenue from the manor. I felt he got what he deserved, though I wished it were the law that handled such crimes. However, the Temple also served as the legislative and judicial branches in this society. When the clergy who are supposed to uphold the law are the ones committing atrocities, there’s not much that can be done. Besides, the reality of this country is that the legal system is still immature. Judgments often depend on money; if you have power and wealth, there’s a side to this world where you can do whatever you want.

“Holger, what do you think the scale of the Condemnation Bandits is?”

“The people actually breaking in? Probably thirty at the most, don’t you think? Any more than that and they’d stand out too much.”

So, roughly the size of a platoon. That seemed plausible.

If more people than that were gathered within the city walls, they would stand out far too much.

“However,” Holger added, “I suspect there are many more people like me—those who gather information and do the legwork.”

If that were the case, this was a bandit group of significant scale. Capturing them would be a massive undertaking—on the level of a small-scale border conflict. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the Royal Guard; they certainly had their work cut out for them.

While we were talking, Holger’s mug went empty, so I ordered him another. I had a patrol coming up, so I decided to stick to just one.

“My apologies. Thanks for the treat. Now then, shall we talk about the incident before that one?”

If I recalled correctly, that involved a nobleman who was dealing drugs prohibited by the Temple. I’d heard the entire family had been slaughtered.

“The victim was the house of a Baron named Hertzsprung. His own territory was just a small countryside plot in the south, but he made a fortune as a moneylender here in Dresden. He used that capital to secretly start an opium production operation on his land.”

In Japan, the manufacture, sale, and possession of opium are strictly forbidden as a narcotic. But in Saxens, laudanum (opium tincture) is sold quite normally in general stores. I was even shocked to find that this very tavern sells opium as a nutritional tonic.

And the troubling thing was, it was actually quite effective—especially for pain relief and as a cough suppressant. Since it’s ingested orally, it’s less addictive than smoking it, but I imagine it still ruins the body eventually. The Temple holds a monopoly on the sale of opium.

“So, this noble was selling the opium he made on his own land himself, instead of wholesaling it to the Temple? Is that it?”

“Exactly. Well, other nobles do that sort of thing too, though the scale varies…”

From his tone, it sounded like there was another reason the Condemnation Bandits had targeted him. Holger, who had been speaking cheerfully, suddenly cut his words short. He grimaced, as if the beer he’d just drunk was rising back up in his chest.

“Boss, what I’m about to tell you isn’t known to the public, and it’s a stomach-turning tale. Do you still want to hear it?”

When someone says something like that, you can’t help but be curious. It was that morbid curiosity of wanting to see something frightening. I urged him to continue.

“Once a month, Hertzsprung held a secret club. Those who gathered were all wealthy people from inside and outside the country. There, they were served alcohol, gambling, prostitutes, male escorts, and high-quality opium cigarettes. It had turned into a melting pot of every worldly desire.”

A den of debauchery, then. I wonder if humans have a tendency to become decadent when they have too much money and nothing to do. Of course, some people focus on creative pursuits or charity. Some even choose to renounce their wealth and live in nature.

“This secret club had a ‘star show’… a murder show.”

The emotion vanished from Holger’s voice, turning it mechanical and cold. People who couldn’t pay their debts, kidnapped streetwalkers, and beastman slaves were apparently brought to the club. They were forced to kill each other, attacked by beasts, or used as human dartboards and tortured to death. It was a spectacle where they tested every imaginable method of killing. Furthermore, Hertzsprung’s family actively participated in these murder shows.

“The story goes that the Hertzsprung family’s fifteen-year-old only son and his mother delighted in appearing in the show. While the son was violating a rabbit-kin woman from behind, he took her ears and—”

“Stop!! …That’s enough. If I hear any more, it’ll interfere with my work today…”

“Too true…”

Holger scratched his head with a bitter smile. Dammit, I was starting to feel sick.

“Want some Schnapps?”

Schnapps is a distilled spirit made from fruit with a high alcohol content. It’s like the soju of Saxens. After hearing such a foul story, I couldn’t handle it without some strong liquor.

“That kind of consideration from you, Boss… it makes me happier than I can say.”

We both downed a small ceramic goblet of Schnapps in one gulp, as if to ward off an evil spirit. The scent of apples wafted up, making me feel a little better.

“Heheh, I guess you don’t need any more of that story. Well, long story short, the Baron Hertzsprung family was slaughtered to the last soul. That’s how it went.”

Holger wrapped it up as if it were the ending of a particularly cruel fairy tale. From his account, the hazy outline of the Condemnation Bandits that I’d only vaguely grasped before was starting to take a clearer shape. It seemed best to stay far away from them. Both the bandits and the victims were dangerous through and through. Looking at the depraved side of humanity made me feel like my own heart was becoming desolate.

I may be overcharging wealthy people myself, but I admonished myself to never do anything that strayed from the path of humanity.