Even when the poison actually took effect, he still couldn't believe someone had dared to poison him.
Looking across the various nobles of the empire, which duke or marquis wasn't perfectly polite when facing the Church of the Morning Light? They were the masters ruling above all living beings, the deities they feared the most!
And he, as a Church Knight of the Church of the Morning Light, also enjoyed this aura of dread.
Since he began executing missions, let alone being poisoned, there had barely been anyone who dared to resist him face-to-face. Over time, he had long ceased to believe anyone would dare to poison him.
After all, those who did so usually paid with their lives.
Did this fellow have a death wish?
“The Church, the Church... will avenge me...”
The manager looked down at him and said indifferently, “Once you're dead, no one will know.”
Croy's breathing grew shallow, his face turning blue.
“The Church's methods... you can't even begin to imagine them... If I die, Seth will know... You, you will all end up joining me in death...”
He seemed to want to say more harsh words, but the manager had no patience left to listen. Stepping aside, he grabbed a chair under Croy's terrified gaze.
Then, aiming the sharp corner of the chair at Croy's head, he smashed it down with vengeful fury.
Once, twice, thrice...
Croy had long lost the strength to scream, leaving him completely at the manager's mercy. However, due to his Rank Three physical fitness, even after the wooden chair broke, he was merely left bleeding from his nose and mouth.
But the poison in the wine ultimately claimed his life.
Croy, a Church Knight who had lorded over countless territories, had never imagined his final end would be getting poisoned to death in a tavern. Before his death, he had even been humiliated with a wooden chair by a magicless mortal.
His eyes were wide, staring in death with lingering resentment.
Staring at the dead Croy, the manager spat on him.
“So what? I'm not afraid of death.”
The manager hid the poisoned bottle, replaced it with a fresh one, and had just picked a chair to sit down in the tavern when he saw Zane standing at the kitchen doorway.
His heart skipped a beat, and he asked in a panic:
“Why are you still here?”
“The bartenders have all left, but I...”
Zane looked at him with worry and bit his lip. Although he didn't continue, the manager knew exactly what he was thinking at a single glance.
He wanted to stay with him in the tavern and face the other Church Knight who would soon arrive.
This was sheer madness!
The manager waved his hand impatiently.
“Get out of here! Other knights will be here soon. If you don't leave now, it'll be too late!”
As he spoke, he paused, let out a sigh, and said with nostalgia:
“My favorite drink is the crude ale from the tavern next door, because every sip always brings back memories of when I was a kid. After I die, don't forget to leave a bottle at my grave every year.”
“Manager...”
Zane knew that the manager was leaving his last wishes.
The manager didn't look at him. He simply turned around and straightened the dusty edges of his apron. “Get lost!”
“...Take care!”
Gritting his teeth hard, Zane hesitated for a few seconds before finally turning and running out of the tavern.
The manager had sacrificed so much; he couldn't let it go to waste.
And he also knew that only by staying alive could he avenge the manager.
Seeing that he had finally listened and left the tavern, the manager sat in his chair and smiled. He recalled his first meeting with the boy. It had been in a chaotic alleyway. The boy had been pushed to the ground by hired laborers, covered in filth, yet the stubbornness in his eyes could not be hidden.
The boy bore some resemblance to his own son, and because he had a decent personality, the manager had given him a chance to work. Zane had worked very hard, barely making a single mistake during his years at the tavern.
He believed that someone like him would surely make something of himself in the future.
The Oswell territory still needed people like them to develop.
...
In the side hall of the lord's manor, Seth, who was leisurely sipping tea on a sofa, suddenly frowned. He pulled a water-blue gem from his pocket, but at this moment, the gem was covered in cracks.
The Blood-Bestowal Ceremony held immense significance for the Church, so to ensure the safety of these knights, the Church had gifted them these gems.
Each gem was linked to a knight's life. This water-blue gem belonged to Croy, and its shattering meant that Croy was dead.
He died in the territory?
Seth narrowed his eyes. After a moment of silence, he snorted.
“What a useless piece of trash, always causing me trouble.”
He stood up from the sofa and put on the light armor resting nearby. Then, hanging his knight's longsword at his waist, he murmured:
“Still, the dignity of the Church cannot be violated. For someone in this territory to dare lay a hand on a Church Knight, they must be taught a lesson.”
The life of a single Church Knight usually had to be paid for with dozens of lives.
Seth grinned and walked out of the lord's manor.
Before long, he arrived at the tavern. At this moment, only the manager and Croy's corpse were inside. He glanced at the corpse a few times and said, “He's dead.”
His tone was flat, as if the one who died was just a stranger.
“Sir Knight! I—I don't know what happened to this lord. He just took a few sips of wine and collapsed here. Can—can you save him?”
The manager put on a panicked act, even stammering as he spoke. Seth, however, shook his head.
“He's dead, so how can he be saved? Even if he were alive, I couldn't save him. After all, he was poisoned to death, and the poison was in the wine bottle.”
With that, he turned his head, his gaze landing on the manager. “Isn't that right, manager?”
The manager was startled inwardly, but he still maintained a confused expression and flattered, “Is—is that so? As expected of a knight, your observation is truly keen...”
Seth didn't avert his gaze. “Are you the killer?”
The manager hurriedly waved his hands.
“No, no, no, of course not! By the time I heard a sound, this lord knight was already lying on the floor. I have no idea who the killer is...”
Seth withdrew his gaze and pondered for a moment.
“Then it must be Zane.”
Hearing this, the manager's body stiffened.
Seth glanced at him and laughed.
“Surprised? Although I rarely leave the lord's manor, I know everything that happens with Croy. And I also know that this tavern is where Zane works.”
“So, if I'm not mistaken, Croy wanted Zane's sister, Zane refused, and so he poisoned the wine to kill him, right?”
The manager's face turned pale.
Although the exact details differed slightly and the actual killer wasn't Zane, this Church Knight had guessed most of the truth. He was far sharper than the manager had expected.
“I—I... No, that's impossible, right? Zane is a good boy. He wouldn't do such a thing...”
Clang—!
Just as his voice fell, Seth drew his longsword.
The blade swept in a brief arc, slicing right through the manager's knees. The manager's body, like an old structure stripped of its support, collapsed backward uncontrollably, slamming heavily onto the floor.
His severed shins lay in front of him as a large amount of blood poured from the cuts, spreading along the grain of the old wooden floorboards. But soon, Seth sealed his wounds with magic.
“Ah—!”
The legless manager shrieked in agony. Seth admired the sight for a moment before sheathing his longsword and stepping over him.
“Regardless of whether Zane is the killer, this matter is connected to him. Speaking up for him is a capital offense. However, as a Church Knight, I must capture everyone involved.”
“For now, you will stay right here. Once I capture Zane, I will bring him before you. Then, right in front of your eyes, I will interrogate him to find out who the killer is before dismembering his body and making him scream in pain.”
“Only this can appease Croy's departed soul.”
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