Chapter 237 : Chapter 237
Chapter 237
Day broke.
Ramba half-opened his eyelids. Thick smoke was rising above the firewood of the extinguished bonfire.
Soon, he opened his eyes wide, sprang up, and looked around. It was the exact spot where he had been conversing with the trio yesterday. He did not even know when he had fallen asleep. It seemed he had fallen fast asleep unconsciously as the tension in his mind and body relaxed.
"Whew……."
A sigh mixed with relief escaped him. The books and bundles of parchment also remained exactly as they had been gathered.
'……What do I do now?'
Ramba, who was sitting blankly, suddenly chuckled. A senseless laugh leaked out.
In the first place, a purpose could not exist, nor should it have existed. Was this not a journey started aimlessly to correct the direction of a life that kept going astray?
Cervantes was the compass illuminating that path, and the illness eating away at his life was the hourglass announcing the end of the journey.
Even though he had preserved his life, there was no reason for his mind to be particularly moved.
"Pathetic fool. In the end, it was nothing more than struggling desperately because I wanted to live."
After reproaching himself and giving his forehead a hard smack, only then did his tightly clogged inside feel a bit refreshed.
'Hmm.'
Ramba slowly looked around. This peace felt unfamiliar to him.
'The Kingdom's worst lawless area, Brakenport.'
This place, where the laws of the center did not reach, had long been called a massive tumor of the Kingdom. They said that criminals, vagrants, and pirates with nowhere to go drifted in and lived here for generations. It was a land outside the system where only the logic of the survival of the fittest existed.
'The sewer rats didn't even dare to set foot here.'
This was his first time properly beholding it. Of course, the scenery visible right now would be nothing more than a tiny fraction of the massive den of evil, but the surroundings were strange to the point of being quiet. It was at the point where its notoriety felt put to shame.
'Why on earth is Sir Noser in a place like this?'
It came to mind belatedly. He should have asked that first of all. He had completely forgotten, his mind preoccupied with Knights of Elderwood and the Synchronization Insect.
'……It should be fine to look around a bit, right?'
Once he made up his mind this far, his curiosity surged wildly and he could not bear it. He was curious about what kind of daily life unfolded in the worst lawless area.
Ramba neatly organized his books and bundles of parchment once again. His footsteps as he stood up with the bundle on his back were a layer lighter than before.
***
Ramba walked around the streets for a long time. Losing track of time, he took in the panoramic view of Brakenport.
He was so distracted that only after hearing the growling sound from his stomach did he realize he had come quite far.
'Amazing.'
That single word of impression was all. The reality of Brakenport was completely different from what he had imagined. Honestly, it was shocking.
Although traces of disorderly violence remained here and there on the streets, the overall atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. Even considering his own expectations, it made no sense.
'Could it be that everything I've heard until now was entirely false rumors?'
Goosebumps broke out as his thoughts reached that point. Were they not the Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats, who placed the secret affairs of the entire Kingdom upon their palms and saw right through them? He was a body that was responsible for a pillar of such an organization.
Yet right now before his eyes, a completely different sight unfolded as if mocking his common sense during this time.
From the shocking story he heard yesterday to the bizarre scenery he was looking at right now……
Somehow, Ramba even felt a sense of alienation, as if he alone were being deceived by everyone in the world.
Growl.
The only honest one was this fellow. Folding his thoughts away for a moment, Ramba searched for a suitable place and sat down on his haunches.
Conveniently, a suitable person was approaching nearby. It was a middle-aged woman whose impression looked warm at least, thanks to her generous physique.
"Egu, Milady. Please spare a coin."
Ramba extended his two hands gathered neatly together. It was a familiar tone and posture.
"……."
The woman who stopped stared straight down at him, then abruptly stomped hard on Ramba's hand that reached her feet.
"Aaaaargh! Aigo, Milady! Why are you suddenly doing this?!"
"Where do you think you're trying to beg like a beggar, bringing bad luck! Get the hell out of my sight right now!"
He was indeed a beggar, yet she told him not to act like a beggar; what kind of bizarre statement was this again? Ramba felt wronged.
The woman quickly scanned the surroundings, and after confirming that there were no watching eyes around, she roughly grabbed Ramba by his collar and pulled him up.
"You punk, you've crossed the wrong person today."
"Egu, Milady! Please spare me!"
Ramba truly felt killing intent. A deep sense of suppressed violence was steeped within her gaze. He even felt as if he had caught a glimpse of the tightly hidden truth of Brakenport.
"Ahem. Why don't you put him down, Madame?"
It was a middle-aged man approaching from afar. His long, wavy hair was quite stylish. He put on a deliberate air of elegance, as if trying to maintain his dignity to match his splendid appearance.
"Alkabang?"
"It has been a long time, Madame."
The middle-aged woman glared back and forth between the approaching Alkabang and the raised Ramba. She cast her eyes down.
"This bastard ruined my mood. Then he has to pay the proper price."
"Whoa, whoa—calm down first. I fully understand why you are angry, Madame. He who does not work, neither shall he eat. That is our first slogan that Ellen emphasizes. It is only natural that anger surges when looking at a fellow like this who tries to scrape by lazily on begging."
The middle-aged woman and Alkabang simultaneously looked at Ramba as if he were pathetic.
Ramba was at the point of bursting with frustration. Was extending mercy to a beggar and accumulating small acts of charity not the basic common sense of human affairs? Even the most vicious thug would know how to show the tolerance of tossing a few pennies to a pitiful beggar.
Yet in this place, whatever the situation was, they were treating a beggar worse than some criminal.
"Ha, don't make me laugh. Alkabang, who do you think you are to order me around? Do you think you're still the Ruler of the Port? Come to think of it, you're in a position where your head should've rolled long ago. Clinging to life thanks to the Cult Leader, where do you get off acting so high and mighty?!"
"Egugu!"
The middle-aged woman pettishly hurled Ramba away. Alkabang snorted, looking at Ramba as if it were no big deal.
"This is a suggestion for your sake, Madame. As you can see, that friend is an outsider. He is Ellen's guest, so there is nothing good to be gained by needlessly touching him, is there?"
"Aaaargh! So annoying! Then you get beaten up instead! I'm already fired up, so I can't stop!"
The woman abruptly shoved her hand inside her ample chest and pulled out a pair of small, round pieces of iron. They were knuckles engraved with crude patterns.
Slipping the knuckles onto both hands familiarly, the woman lowered her upper body and took a combat stance.
Ramba clicked his tongue, overwhelmed by that savage momentum.
'Wh-What on earth is this absurd combat instinct?!'
Only then did Ramba realize. It was not things like morality or conscience that suppressed the combativeness engraved deep within their bones.
Something invisible, massive, and overwhelming was undoubtedly reigning over them.
'They called him the Cult Leader.'
Suddenly, that title flashed across his mind. The trio had also mentioned it frequently.
He seemed to be the practical ruler of Brakenport, which had no lord.
"Stop—!"
At the roaring voice that suddenly flew in, Ramba's shoulders startled and jumped. It was a sound of tearing air with truly formidable power, as if a thunderbolt were striking down.
"I'm sure I warned you clearly! That from now on, private violence won't even go to a trial at sea, and I'll personally deal with it through severe punishment!"
The one who appeared with his back to the sun was Tiaro. Ellen and McRay were also with him on both sides.
CRASH—!
Tiaro slammed down the staff held in his hand hard. The metal rings attached to the end shook noisily.
"Fistfights that don't follow proper procedures are no longer a custom of Brakenport. That's a clear evil that ruins the order of the community! Do you understand?!"
"No, I……."
"Do you understand, Madame?!"
"I-I get it."
The middle-aged woman left the place with quick steps. Alkabang shrugged his shoulders, looking back and forth between her departing back and Ramba.
"There is no such thing as an easy change."
The three approached. Ellen, who heard the situation from Alkabang, took care of Ramba.
"Why'd you just disappear without a word like that?"
"I-I am sorry, milord."
"Well, there's nothing to be sorry about. Have you thought about it? Our proposal."
Ramba blinked his eyes. Only then did it come to mind.
Last night, Ellen had proposed. That if he periodically supplied books to Brakenport, they would accept him as a 'rightful member' of this city.
Although he did not know how great of a benefit that was, Ramba was willing to willingly comply once or twice, if only to repay the favor of saving his life.
However, that was as far as it went. Being tied down here like a fixture and continuously fulfilling their demands was a completely different matter.
"Uh…… it seems that would be difficult, milord."
The brows of the three furrowed simultaneously. It was a reaction indicating that they absolutely could understand.
Ramba hurriedly added.
"Ah, of course, I intended to do it voluntarily a few times even if you did not tell me to. Because I am also a fellow who knows shame."
"Isn't settling down here much better for you too than going somewhere else to scrape by on begging? Despite how it looks, the ocean view here is the finest in the Kingdom."
Ellen gently reasoned. Right then, McRay, who was behind, pointed his finger at Ramba.
"Don't forget. The reason I saved you is so I can properly read a proper sequel to Knights of Elderwood."
Ramba swallowed his saliva hard. Even though he knew it was half a joke, a chill ran down his spine.
"……Because somehow, I feel like I will be able to find Cervantes soon."
The three raised their eyebrows simultaneously. Although they had heard from him yesterday that Cervantes truly existed, they had merely considered it an empty remark tossed out for the sake of the atmosphere. They knew how to discern that much by now.
"Where is he? The Imperial Capital?"
"Well, it seems—"
SCREECH—!
It was above their heads. The trio, Alkabang, and Ramba simultaneously raised their heads and looked up at the sky as if by agreement.
A single quite large bird was descending while drawing a circle. The sunshine pouring between its trajectory was transparent.
'Hmm?'
Ramba's eyes narrowed. While he was thinking that the bird was quite large, it was because the shape glimpsed in a split second was somewhat strange.
At that moment, Ellen shouted in a welcomed voice.
"Vulture!"
"Huh? Vulture?"
"It's that fellow's name. It's the Cult Leader's messenger. Don't be too surprised. Despite how it looks, it's very shy."
Ramba furrowed his brow. Shy? What is he talking about?
FLUTTER—!
When the eagle folded its wings and landed, Ramba froze, doubting his own eyes.
'Wh-Why does an eagle…… have a human face?'
The hairs over his entire body stood on end. Only his pupils shook frantically.
At that moment, Vulture, whose eyes met Ramba's, fluttered its eyelids and snapped its head away first. The moment he saw that bizarre gesture as if truly not knowing what to do from shyness, Ramba finally understood Ellen's words.
"Vulture, it's been a while. You've been scarce for a bit. This is the first time since you brought the news that the Cult Leader declared an end to the war in Pretoria, right?"
Ramba turned to Ellen in shock. A declaration of the end of the war; what kind of news was this again? Only now did the fact that he had left the Wild Dogs and Sewer Rats sink in painfully.
Vulture answered, shrinking its wings.
"Ah, y-yes. The C-Cult Leader called for you."
At those words, the expressions of the three froze at once. Soon, an unbelievable joy leaked through the stiffness of their faces.
"The Cult Leader…… is looking for us?"
"T-That is to say, he told me to bring Sir Noser. Right now. Ah, and he strictly commanded that the attendants, including Sir Noser, must not exceed five people."
Soon, an uncontrollable joy rushed over the faces of the three like a wave. Their appearance, struggling to choke back the shouts trying to burst out, was the very definition of full-blooded young men of their age.
Ramba's gaze, which had been watching that sight blankly, turned toward Vulture once again. Just what on earth was the identity of that fellow called the Cult Leader, whom even a human-faced grotesque bird—not knowing if it was a demonic beast or what—revered and served? He was a person who placed even the personal safety of Noser, the Left Camp Leader of the Imperial Capital Knight Order, upon his palm and wielded it. It was self-evident without even needing to weigh it that his power was grander than that of most lords.
Ramba could not contain himself and asked.
"I have wanted to ask since last time, but just who on earth is that person you milords call the Cult Leader?"
Ellen turned his head. He was so excited that he could not contain his overflowing bright complexion.
"Bihen Benkou. He is the Cult Leader of our Heavenly Demon Divine Cult."
Ramba collapsed right where he stood.
They were legs that had managed to hold out well even after seeing the human-faced eagle. However, upon hearing that name come out of Ellen's mouth, he no longer had the means to endure.