The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

Chapter 354: The Delinquent Priest, Rufus (12) - The Borderless Physicians Fredrick, the mayor of the city of Boots, thought. 'I'm fucked. Fuck. Seriously. I'm so fucking screwed.' One might ask whether such vulgar language was too crude for someone who was, of all things, the mayor of a god's city, but Fredrick was in no position right now to care about vulgarity or anything else. "These bastards—they're planning to bury me along with them...!!" The other surrounding cities' checks against the city of Boots. That much, in itself, he had fully expected. If he'd been the kind of man who couldn't grasp what the medical reforms Rufus and Raphaela were carrying out meant for the vested interests, he wouldn't have become mayor in the first place. The problem was the method. If the surrounding cities still considered Fredrick or the priests within Boots to be "allies," they should naturally have tried to make contact—whether by sending someone or using carrier pigeons. Something like: How are things on the inside? We'll help you. Cooperate with us this way. That sort of thing. But there had been no such process whatsoever. Not only that, even the requests for rescue that Fredrick had sent had all been ignored. What could that possibly mean? "They're going to bury me along with the priests here too!? These heartless bastards!! Have they no loyalty at all!!" It wasn't that he couldn't understand their way of thinking. No, the problem was that he understood it all too well. Let's think from the perspective of the outside power holders. If they cooperated with Fredrick? Sure, they could put him in their debt. But that debt was all it would ever amount to. But what if, instead, they used this opportunity to wipe out Fredrick and every last one of the priests? That vacuum—and the vested interests along with it—could all be carved up and devoured by the outsiders like a pizza. "Even so, there's such a thing as loyalty between colleagues!!" Fredrick lamented. He grieved and screamed in anguish. Of course, if Fredrick had been in the opposite position, he too wouldn't have spared a glance for some "former colleague" who'd been stupid enough to get thoroughly wrecked by a single individual and lose the initiative—but wasn't blatant hypocrisy simply a basic qualification for those in power? Should he make a run for it, even now? But how, and where, exactly? Fredrick, seriously agonizing over how to escape, gnawed anxiously at his nails and wandered back and forth. Shhk. Before he knew it, he found himself face to face with Rufus, who had poked his face in right next to his shoulder, right beside him. "Kyaaaaaah!!" "My, my. That scream is quite delicate—doesn't match your looks at all. It's a good thing I heard it rather than read it described in writing, or I'd have mistaken you for a young girl." "Wh-wh, uh, wh-wha, why?" Fredrick, so startled that his linguistic faculties had regressed, could barely speak, but Rufus, seemingly unconcerned, calmly went on. "Let's get ready to depart. You'll need to guide me to wherever this Grand Council, or whatever it's called, is being held." As if influenced by that composure, Fredrick, having forced himself to reboot, asked cautiously. "...Me? No, wait, before that—did you just say you're going to the Grand Council?" "Yes." "Do you even know what kind of place that is!!" This wasn't on the level of charging into enemy territory. It was comparable to stepping into an execution ground crawling with traps. Of course, Fredrick himself had been fully prepared to stab Rufus in the back the moment the outside priests extended so much as a hand—but now that those outsiders had rejected him, whether he liked it or not, Fredrick had to keep the lifeline that was Rufus from snapping, maintaining and reinforcing it. Because if this man died, he himself was going to die too! "Think carefully. It seems like taking Boots so easily has given you the wrong idea, but all of Hasht isn't a bunch of idiots! It's just that the holy knights—or in outside terms, the ones ranked 5th rank or 6th Rank—are all tied up on the front-line borders or guarding the Pantheon, which is the only reason a relative vacuum opened up in our internal forces! But—" "But if it's a Grand Council where representatives of Kargal's cities all gather, then no matter what, skilled fighters are bound to show up even if just for the sake of escort duty. In other words, it's impossible for me to raise hell there alone. So watch myself. Is that what you're saying?" "Exactly!!" "Let me ask the opposite, then—if I don't go to the Grand Council, does that actually solve anything?" Fredrick's mouth clamped shut like a clam. It... wouldn't solve anything. Because if the enemy openly surrounded them and then pushed in, that would be the end of it. To the silent Fredrick, Rufus spoke confidently. "You just need to guide the way, that's all. Though honestly, it's less about finding the route itself and more about avoiding the tedious checkpoints we'll run into along the way." He wanted to stop him. But there was no point in trying to stop him. The only hope left was to expect that this inhuman human being would somehow pull something off. 'No, actually, come to think of it, this might be the better option.' If Rufus tried to resolve this by force, the outcome, however it played out, could only be defeat. Even if Rufus were a 6th Rank, one of the strongest in the mortal world, it would be the same. Because the Pantheon had numerous Apostles of the gods—that is, powerhouses of 6th Rank. But if Rufus went to the Grand Council— In other words, if he engaged in negotiation in some form, the result was far more likely to go smoothly. Of course, given the character of those outside bastards, it was obvious they'd only say they'd spare them while making absolutely sure to take Rufus and Raphaela's heads—but at least Fredrick himself would gain even the tiniest sliver of a chance to survive, wouldn't he? Having quickly finished his calculations, Fredrick lowered his head. "Understood. I'll do it." "There's no need to be so frightened. I intend to settle this with words." "Yes, yes." Please, don't resent him later for not having stopped him. After all, they hadn't exactly been on good terms with each other to begin with. Fredrick swiftly finished rationalizing to himself. ...Looking back on it later, lowering his head to hide his expression might have been the problem. He really should have seen what kind of face Rufus was making at that moment. *** It started with the makeup of their party. "Um, uh, Father?" "What is it?" "Isn't this a few too many people?" Fredrick looked back behind him. Rufus and Raphaela. Their medical staff. Administrative personnel. Even the cleaners and the soldiers who'd been won over by Raphaela had all finished packing for the journey and were ready to set off at a moment's notice. "They kept clinging to me, insisting they couldn't just send Raphaela and me off alone, that they'd come along too—there was nothing I could do about it." Fredrick looked once more at the people standing behind Raphaela. And then he realized something. 'Most of them are former ordinary believers.' Among the staff, many of the ones who'd come from being ordinary believers had first been treated by Raphaela, then, moved by her character and ability, gone on to join as her apprentices or employees. So it wasn't all that strange for them to insist on tagging along, when their benefactor Raphaela was heading into a place dangerous enough that she might die. As for the handful of self-taught folk healers scattered among them, none of them held any particular grudge against Rufus or Raphaela either, so that much he could accept and understand well enough. Except. 'Why are the priest bastards here?' The priests working at the clinic were the ones who, after clashing with Rufus and getting beaten down, were now working there as a kind of punishment. Since they'd only feel relieved, if anything, were Rufus and Raphaela to disappear—certainly not sorry to see them go—the majority of them had chosen not to join this journey. Put the other way around, though, that also meant that a not-insignificant number of priests—enough that it fell short of all of them, but only to a majority—were joining this journey as well. He wondered if, like himself, they'd been personally asked by Rufus, but their expressions seemed too subtle and complicated for that to be the whole story. Hesitation, resolve, and determination. At the very least, that wasn't the kind of expression one wore when forced into something against their will, was it? 'Don't tell me they've actually grown fond of him in that short time? No, wait—more importantly, if they're here, don't I not even need to guide the way myself?' Fredrick agonized for a moment over whether to ask if he could step out for a while, but soon shook his head. In a precarious, tightrope-walking situation like this, it seemed better to stay on site, gather information quickly, and judge the situation for himself. And so the journey, with dozens of people swarming along together, turned out to be not nearly as bad as he'd expected. Even in decline, Hasht was still one of the great powers. There were no large-scale bandit gangs stationed between cities, and even if there were petty robbers here and there, they wouldn't target a group of dozens traveling together like this. On top of that, with holders of Divine Power and a good number of medical staff among them, they could handle minor ailments or discomforts without any trouble, and discipline was well enough maintained that no disputes broke out either. The only real worry was supplies, but in a way, that turned out to be the simplest problem of all to solve. Whenever the group stopped to make camp at regular intervals, merchants leading carts would come flocking in from somewhere, resupply them, and then leave. 'This priest bastard Rufus is one thing, but that Brown-whatever trading company bunch seems pretty unreasonable too, if you ask me.' For a trading company based in a foreign nation to pull off such flawless resupply within Hasht, a place where it was difficult even for outsiders to enter, let alone operate—in a way, it made even a mage burning down an enemy army with a giant fireball feel downright ordinary by comparison. Thanks to that, when trouble finally did break out, it wasn't out in the wilderness—it was when they drew closer to civilization. As a crowd of several dozen people came pouring toward the small village, the village immediately went on high alert. When the handful of Wardens and priests in charge of managing the village came rushing out, thoroughly on guard, Fredrick cleared his throat and stepped in to mediate. "I am Fredrick, mayor of the city of Boots! We are traveling to attend the Grand Council, so there's no need for such vigilance!" "The mayor, you say...?" Since this was a village under the jurisdiction of Leggings, the city right next door to Boots, there were people who recognized Fredrick's face, so the conversation progressed reasonably quickly. "Reasonably," of course, also meant it hadn't gone entirely smoothly. "Are you truly saying you're going to attend the Grand Council?" "That's right. Didn't the mayor of Leggings give you any word about it?" "No, we haven't received any particular instructions from the upper echelons." 'Tch. These bastards never even expected us to actually come in the first place.' It wasn't as if they'd looped far out into the boondocks—this was just a village on the route from Boots to Leggings—and yet even so, this much was enough to tell him exactly how unprepared the other side really was. Then again, even if they had actually planned to go, they'd probably send a messenger ahead first to feel each other out under the name of "coordinating opinions," before finally coming over themselves—they probably never imagined that the actual parties involved would show up in person just because they'd been told to. Fredrick spoke to Rufus. "I think it'd be best if we stayed here a little while before moving on. Having the Wardens send word ahead to the next city would make things easier for everyone." Rufus nodded. "Well, I'll leave that part to you." At the unexpectedly obedient answer, Fredrick felt secretly relieved. He'd worried Rufus might fly into a rage, ranting that they'd called him here without even preparing properly, but it seemed like this might pass smoothly after all— "Well then, Raphaela. Let's begin." "Yes, Father. All right, everyone! Pitch the tents and get ready to receive patients!!" "Yes!!" A booming reply came back at once from among the staff, and they began moving in perfect coordination. Fredrick, dumbfounded, watched the tents go up one after another before finally asking Rufus blankly. "What exactly are you trying to do right now?" Rufus answered. "They told me to come explain myself, didn't they? So that's exactly what I intend to do." His tone was that of someone doing the most obvious thing in the world, but Fredrick, catching the look glinting between his narrowed eyes, wasn't fooled for a second. Because the intent to openly torment the other side was written plainly across it. Fredrick thought, once again. 'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I'm fucked.'