“Hey there! Here’s the remaining amount after deducting the commission from the fee you entrusted.”
The receptionist girl pulled out a few silver coins from the pouch filled with the reward money and returned the rest to Amy.
Amy split the coins into three and handed them to us, then explained in detail to the receptionist about the events we faced in the Dungeon.
“The Wights occupying the third underground level, the suspicious altar for human sacrifice, and the necromantic spellbook that popped out from within!”
“Look! This is the Wights’ corpse, you know? I just cut off the toes…”
“Wights…? Altar…? Necromancy…? Wait a second. Did you explore the middle level dungeon instead of the lower one?”
The receptionist girl looked flustered. She thought it was just a typical iron badge quest, but it turned out to be a crazy tough mission needing four bronze adventurers to handle. If we had decided to linger and fully clear that place instead of leaving with the spellbook, we would have faced total annihilation.
“No, it felt like the depth was indeed lower, but the problem is what’s hiding inside.”
Amy shook her head and replied. She sensed that it was likely a facility used as a hideout by an Abyss Priest, so they retreated without further exploration.
“Oh my…”
The receptionist briefly glanced at me, shocked at the mention of the Abyss Priest, and then let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m so glad you returned safely. An Abyss Priest, who would have thought…”
Well, it was only natural to feel relieved, since I had just wanted to get my troublesome benefactor a good job, but it almost sent them to their graves.
“I didn’t face him directly, but… I’m pretty sure. Otherwise, it wouldn’t explain things.”
“Yes. I’ll report that. Thank you for the information.”
With a professional smile, the receptionist nodded and took out a white sheet of paper to hurriedly jot down what Amy said.
The completed report, stamped with the adventurer guild’s seal, was handed to another staff member and sent upstairs.
“Then, can we leave now?”
“Uh… wait a minute, Priest Bolton, could you stay back for a moment? I have some questions. The rest of you can leave.”
“Questions? For Priest Bolton?”
With her business done, Amy started to pack the spellbook back into her backpack, looking a bit puzzled by the receptionist’s comment.
“Ah, is this about Hilde’s heresy accusation?”
…What’s that about?
I exchanged a confused glance with Bolton. Huh? Hilarity? Where did that come from? That sounds way too serious.
“You can relax about that issue. All confirmations have been made, and it will conclude as unfounded.”
Bolton replied with a gentle smile.
“Phew! That’s a relief.”
The receptionist returned the smile.
“What do you mean by that? Heresy accusation? Confirmations?”
I turned to the receptionist, asking what on earth she was talking about. She awkwardly laughed and apologized for not mentioning it earlier, explaining the underlying story of this quest in a soothing tone.
So, it turns out…
◆◆
“You were suspected of being a cultist? Me?”
“Yes. It was merely a suspicion, after all.”
Surprisingly, the church branch in Vespians was suspecting me of being a cultist. With no records of my past activities and the fact that I never showed my face in public, they thought it suspicious for someone like me to be an adventurer without being in dire need of money while slaughtering dozens of iron and bronze adventurers labeled as marauders.
How suspicious must I have appeared from the perspective of the church?
The feeling that one of my party members was slaughtering raiders was just a poor excuse, leading people to believe I might be sacrificing for an evil deity or something.
“Additionally, the ‘Low-Class Slaughterer,’ who had been registered as a fugitive, disappeared around this area. Coincidentally, it matches with the time Hilde registered as an adventurer.”
“…Low-Class Slaughterer? What’s that?”
That’s truly a sinister name. So a Low-Class Slaughterer means a serial killer who selectively kills the weak and poor?
What kind of scum would do that?
“Don’t you know? From the frontier of Brulgund to Hervor, he’s a murderer who’s massacred over seven settlements of nomads and local merchants.”
I see.
“Not a single person was left alive due to his brutal methods, so his real name, appearance, motives, and methods remain a mystery.”
…That sounds just like me.
“The church authorities suspect the Low-Class Slaughterer is a cultist. Meaningless and vague massacres, almost reminiscent of what an evil cult would do.”
“Exactly. And since the traces of this criminal have suddenly stopped near Vespians, the higher-ups in the church assumed he might be hiding in Vespians.”
Bolton added.
“We suspected Hilde to be a prominent suspect, but after accompanying you directly, it became clear how absurd that assumption was.”
Absurd? No, that was the truth.
“Uh… I see. I’m glad the misunderstanding was cleared up.”
I awkwardly tugged my lips into a smile.
The church is incredible! Just how did they find that out? There must not have been any witnesses left.
A bead of cold sweat trickled down my back.
◆◆
Anyway, Bolton mentioned that was why he joined our party—to observe me up close and confirm my status as a cultist.
Not just me; other suspects were likewise monitored with priests or paladins attached to their parties.
And by keeping such close watch, Bolton came to realize I wasn’t the criminal.
“Polite and thoughtful in your actions. Not overly greedy nor thrill-seeking in killing, and your emotional fluctuations were quite stable for someone labeled a cultist.”
That was an unexpectedly high evaluation of me.
Sure, a person like me must rank in the top 1% among adventurers, right?
In a world without mandatory education, there are plenty of scumbags in this industry.
“Ah, was your outburst in the Dungeon—or rather, your excessive behavior—an act to check my emotional fluctuations?”
I suddenly voiced a question that popped into my head.
I was reminded of Bolton’s outbursts when he saw undead or cultish creatures.
Honestly, I presumed it was crazy for a person to act like that, but if it was all acting to confirm my reactions, it would make sense.
“…….”
But Bolton kept silent.
Instead of laughing it off, he clamped his mouth shut tightly.
He just shifted his gaze away to avoid making eye contact.
“……Bolton?”
…What’s with that reaction? Was that not an act but genuine?
Did he really bubble and froth in fury?
Guhum, guhuhum.
Bolton coughed awkwardly as if embarrassed.
“…….”
It was a good thing his helmet was on. If the visor hadn’t hidden my gaze, I might have been arrested for sacrilege.
“Guhum. Anyway, yes. And… if you have excessive wariness, yeah. If you’ve been constantly troubled by marauder threats as rumors suggest, that would be a normal reaction.”
With nothing left to say, I stared at Bolton, and he swiftly turned his head, quickly changing the subject.
“I told you! It’s true that Hilde has many suspicious aspects, but she cannot possibly be a cultist or a marauder.”
The receptionist rose her chin slightly with a smile, as if to say, “See?”
“Yes. As you said, Hilde can be removed from the list of suspects. She’s not the type.”
Bolton nodded eagerly in agreement, his sincere trust overflowing in his tone.
Thus, I decided not to pry further or press Bolton about his oddities.
After all, thanks to him vouching for me, the unjust accusations laid upon me were entirely resolved.
“As a priest serving Elianel, I assure you, Hilde is not the Low-Class Slaughterer.”
Ah, not an injustice, indeed.
◆◆
“The Low-Class Slaughterer… what a crazy person.”
Amy, who had been standing nearby with a dazed expression, interjected into our conversation, her face a mix of contempt and curiosity.
“Who on earth would do such a thing?”
Well, it’s me. Contrary to the accusations of only targeting the weak, I was just exterminating rapists and thieves.
“I think it might be… the Abyss Priest hiding in the dungeon we just visited. If we consider that, everything fits perfectly.”
Bolton cautiously laid out his hypothesis.
The massacres were to gather corpses for raising undead, and his disappearance might be due to hiding within the dungeon.
It sounded plausible upon reflection.
“Oh, that could be the case.”
“Definitely… a highly probable deduction. If the Abyss Priest is indeed real.”
Having heard Bolton’s reasoning, the receptionist and Amy appeared convinced, both nodding and slightly parting their lips.
“That might be possible.”
I too expressed my agreement.
Bolton’s reasoning was so flawless that I couldn’t find any ground to refute it.
His intellect was almost like he was channeling Sherlock Holmes.
“The Abyss Priest, huh…”
Perhaps the Low-Class Slaughterer was the Abyss Priest…!
That’s wickedly evil.
To brutally slaughter those who couldn’t resist and attempt to pin the blame on me. How could anyone be so vile?
He deserved divine punishment—screaming from a mob of paladins inflicting group violence as his punishment.
That kind of malicious person should be tormented and burned at the stake before they could even argue their innocence.
With that, the four of us concluded our lengthy discussion, expressing our anger and contempt for the crimes committed by the Abyss Priest.
Squawk!
Meanwhile, Kikel sat next to the hearth, laughing as if completely uninterested in the Slaughterer or anything else.
Such was his nature.
