A Famous Traitor and Treacherous Genius

247 – Barcelona Terror (7)

Bomb necklace.

If I were to give it a name, I would call it that.

The principle of how this bomb necklace works is simple.

If you do not regularly fill the magic stone with mana, the magic will activate.

The magic is activated automatically over time, and the magic is engraved on the round magic stone engraved in the center of the neck.

And this mana is filled through a special solution, which is an appropriate mixture of magic herb manufactured at the Gibraltar Orphanage and dried underground somnus powder.

If you try to force it or someone forcefully cut it, it will explode immediately.

A person of the level of an advanced wizard can disarm it by flowing mana well to prevent it from exploding for about one or two hours based on the data analyzed from the sample.

But at least you can use the sample as is until it is passed on to those who want to unlock it.

I made this clear to the 300 imperial administrators, the separately employed staff of the Barcelona Viceroy, and the soldiers in charge of the prisoners.

Twice a day.

If you don’t refill the mana solution in advance once every 12 hours, it will explode.

Some people find it funny.

Someone is worried.

Someone begged for forgiveness, asking him to take off the necklace and saying he would never sin again.

And now that it is morning.

“Master. The prisoners…”

Sir Carlos, who had taken some action against the prisoners, came to the office to report.

“What happened?”

“Three of them exploded. In solitary confinement.”

Three prisoners were killed in an explosion.

It’s not something cruel like your head explodes, it’s just an explosion in your neck that causes blood to pour out and dies.

“What about the other prisoners?”

“I panicked.”

“Do you want me to take it off?”

“I’ll do anything, so please save me first. Thanks to you, I was able to find the person behind it…”

Sir Carlos shook his head.

“It appears that this was not the result we wanted. It appears that they simply hid in the warehouse to steal the gold.”

“Really? Wasn’t Marquis Roland staging a play of his own? It’s a shame.”

“I didn’t think he was the kind of person who would do it so easily, even if he did a behind-the-scenes operation…”

“I see. Then that’s it. I was wondering if it would be possible to wipe it out in one go, but it seems that wasn’t the case.”

“Master. More than that… “

Sir Carlos opened his mouth in a boiling voice.

“Do you think I’m cruel too?”

“…I think it was a necessary measure, but the residents of the territory are agitated.”

“Even though you’re a prisoner?”

“I guess it’s a new method…”

“Oh, that one.”

This is where the perspectives of the people of the empire and the people of the kingdom differ.

“I thought people were scared because it was cruel.”

Carlos said that the people of the territory were ‘agitated’, but it was not agitated about the brutal methods.

Just because the execution was a new method.

“What is the reaction of citizens?”

“When I heard that he was trying to steal gold, it is a common belief that he ‘deserved to die.’ Especially since he was trying to steal a place managed by the Marquis of Roland.”

“You tried to steal gold from a coal mine being developed by a family close to Nostrum, so it would be perfect to be accused of being a traitor and killed.”

There is no problem with the death penalty itself.

The only thing that makes people agitated is the method, that is, the bomb necklace part.

“If we steal gold, wouldn’t our necks be filled with magic stones like that? Wouldn’t we be forcibly taken somewhere and do hard labor like other prisoners?”

“No, it’s not like that.”

“No?”

“Yes.”

“…Why?”

Once again, it was a moment when the question ‘Why?’ Came up.

“A magic that can kill someone at any time is attached to their neck, and if they disobey instructions or run away, it automatically explodes, and they force them to do hard labor until they are executed?”

“Uh, um, I don’t really understand your point.”

Sir Robert has now left Barcelona to bring someone with him.

So, I instructed Sir Carlos to manage the prisoners, but it seems that Sir Carlos still lacks imperial sensitivity.

“Don’t you feel sorry for me or something like that?”

“Are you testing me?”

“No. That’s not it. Imperials sometimes say that they are pitiful, cruel, or speak of prisoners’ human duties and rights.”

“Do prisoners have rights?”

From noble mtl dot come

That’s right.

This is the nostrum average.

I don’t mean this in a particularly bad sense, but this is Nostrum’s perception.

“I’m thankful that I realized it again thanks to you.”

“I feel like I did something wrong…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. What’s wrong is that you are a charlatan who defends those who committed crimes and takes their side while trying to take advantage of their own interests.”

“…?”

Don’t you feel sorry for the prisoners? Guarantee them the minimum they can live as human beings.

The empire later talked about this in terms such as human rights or welfare, but it was a story from a world far removed from Nostrum.

‘It wasn’t the problem I thought it was.’

Traitor Gray and Governor Gray did the same thing, but the method of execution was different, but the way people accepted it was completely different.

“Sir Carlos, let me ask you a new question.”

“This is the test that Sir Robert spoke of!”

“No. I’m purely asking for your opinion, so you can just tell me what you think. There’s nothing disrespectful about it.”

“Is that so…”

Sir Carlos’s shoulders slumped for a moment.

“…If the reaction comes out the way I expected, I’ll give it 100 points out of 100.”

“Oh, then write it down in advance! I’ll guess it right!”

“I think it should be the other way around, but I guess I will.”

I took out a piece of paper and quickly wrote down without seeing Sir Carlos.

“That’s my opinion. And the question is.”

“What do you mean… “

“What would have happened if the execution had been carried out with a ‘musket’ rather than magical power?”

“…”

Sir Carlos’ expression became serious.

“Uh, hey, master?”

“Put up a pillar in a large square, tie it to the pillar, then take a musket brought from the empire, load it, and shoot it in the heart. Depending on the lethality of the bullet, it will either be between the eyes or in the heart.”

“…It looks like he was taken prisoner by the imperial army.”

Sir Carlos shook his head resolutely.

“If I were to die like that, I would at least cut out my tongue and kill myself before I die like that.”

“Why?”

“Of course, you’re going to die from a musket, aren’t you? That’s…”

“Is this why?”

I held up the paper I had written down.

“Yes! Even if I die, I would rather be honored as a dewdrop on the execution ground or have my head cut off by the guillotine, or be killed by a magic missile cover or something! What greater humiliation could there be than that?”

“Thank you.”

There was a phrase written on the paper: ‘It is humiliating to be killed for something related to the empire.’

That’s not what Sir Carlos said.

These were the words of a revolutionary army officer who was once captured by traitor Gray.

And I shot him.

In a way they find the most humiliating.

“Even if I die, I will die as a Nostrum. Is that so?”

“It’s a bit awkward to say this, but most people will think so. Although there is a peaceful atmosphere with the empire right now, if a war breaks out with the empire and we end up in an all-out war with the empire. …”

Sir Carlos pretended to slit his own throat.

“I ended up committing suicide.”

“I know very well.”

Because all the revolutionary soldiers died like that.

“Then what about the magic stone necklace?”

“It’s a bit weird because the person who made it is a master, but isn’t it a magic tool made with Nostrum’s magic technology?”

It was not created through alchemy.

It is an item made based on the tradition of Nostrum, ‘magic’.

“People say that. It’s a new method, but he was killed by an object made with Nostrum’s magic. Even though his love is for the Empire, Nostrum still remains in his heart.”

“With this?”

“At least at the moment of death, he killed it like a nostrum.”

Not the Empire’s way, but the Nostrum way.

“…Yeah, I’m weird. Hmm.”

Future, imperial historians once said something like that about Nostrum.

If a person with two eyes enters a one-eyed village, the two eyes are said to be strange.

“If there are no problems, proceed.”

“Yes.”

Sir Carlos said this, but later he would go around the streets secretly and cross-verify the information.

It may be said that it is in front of Sir Carlos, but it can be said differently in the back.

‘In the first place, vivid public opinion comes from places where there are no high-ranking people.’

* * *

Late at night, the streets of Barcelona’s Viceroyalty Outer Castle. Bar.

“Ah, damn it. There’s no quiet day because of this damn traitor.”

“That’s right.”

The miners, who came into the bar sweating profusely from morning to evening digging for gold, poured wooden glasses full of beer and clinked their glasses.

“Hey, bring me a drink!”

“Bring the sausage well-cooked!”

The miners screamed loud enough to be heard in the kitchen beyond the cupboards.

The owner of the bar glanced briefly at the young man in the kitchen wearing a white hat who was diligently preparing food, but then cleared his throat and roughly put out a wooden glass.

“Well, be careful what you say today.”

“What is it, master? Do you have any family or acquaintances among the executed thieves?”

“It’s not like that, but… “

“Then what? Oh, because of the traitor story?”

The miners giggled and clinked their glasses once more.

“Look, master. Did we talk about the high-ranking person who lives in the castle over there? No! We’re talking about the trash that sold Nostrum, right?”

“Yes, yes! How dare you say something out of fear!”

“Couldn’t your ears be open anywhere?”

“Ah, this guy. Did you take money from the Imperial Guard? Are you telling me to inform you of someone who curses you as a traitor?”

“It’s not like that, but-“

“The food you ordered has arrived.”

A young chef directly brought neatly prepared food from the kitchen and placed it directly in front of the men.

“Oh! Are you a newbie? I haven’t seen you around here before?”

“I came up from southern Sayene. I heard that you can make a lot of money if you dig for gold. I’m going to dig for it tomorrow morning.”

“Hehe, is that how you came too? You are a solid young man! You work during the day and at night. We came from eastern Roland!”

“East Roland?”

“Yes. Roland should be wider from east to west.”

When the young cook began to show interest in the miners’ story, the miners continued talking while chewing sausages as snacks.

“The people who fell behind this time are all from the western part of Roland. They should have just quietly mined gold, but they turned around and tried to steal the gold. Tsk tsk.”

“Are they traitors?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. This guy doesn’t seem to know who he’s talking about yet?”

“Maybe a gun too…”

The young man nodded and looked at the surrounding atmosphere.

“…No one would call the great people in the Government-General a traitor, right? Haha.”

“That’s right! The rumor is definitely not true.”

“Rumors?”

“Yes. These are the people who tried to steal the gold this time. They say they were actually trying to steal production by secretly receiving kickbacks from the empire’s merchants.”

“Oh my god, you mean gold?”

“That’s right! Gold mined from Nostrum is being transferred to the Empire! What else would that be but a treason!”

The miners clinked their glasses in harsh voices.

“Gold belongs to Nostrum! It’s what our ancestors left on the ground for us! Even if we dig it, we’ll dig it, and if we use it, we’ll use it! Oh, no!”

“The gold belongs to Nostrum.”

The young man smiled lightly, and the bar owner held the bottle and drank it roughly as if his throat was burning.

“Oh, shit. I don’t know anymore.”

The bar owner begged for understanding, but the young man just smiled and filled the beer glass himself and handed it to him.

“Oh, you’re not kidding, are you?”

“We will match the foam you want. How can we fill 90% of the foam?”

Haha! You’re trying to scam me! You’ll do that to the samsung from the empire later!”

Squeak.

The lively atmosphere of the bar calmed down for a moment when a new customer visited.

“Here we go, Baron.”

“…”

Baron. Nobility.

A coat that is somewhat shabby and not properly organized.

And traces of death bloomed all over the face.

A white-haired old man and a butler came inside, as if a living corpse had visited.

“That person…”

“No, that one.”

The miner who had been cursing the empire lowered his voice when he saw the baron.

“…Isn’t he Baron Gunther of Lembourg?”

Viscount Balzac Lembourg Gunther, a haggard old man dressed in worn-out clothes, appeared in the bar looking like he was about to die.