Thiendavis – For The Perfect Salvation

Chapter 30. Glasses

This world was not perfect.

Yet, it had intricately tangled itself up with a plethora of detailed justifications, from one to ten.

Like a vicious pile of causality where balance toppled at the slightest touch.

Thus, the untouchable monstrosity rolled forward indifferently, slicing and crushing countless lives.

Without a hint of remorse, truly shamelessly.

Zion thought that what was happening in this village was no different.

"Teacher!"

"Please, stop them over there!"

It happened as Zion, accompanied by his young student, descended from the hill.

An air of confusion loomed from the village entrance, and as soon as the villagers saw him, they pleaded desperately.

They pointed toward the village square.

There, soldiers clad in deep navy uniforms of Bayen were yelling at the villagers.

Seemingly fearful, the child clung to Zion's garment.

The child seemed to sense that her fear had materialized and was now scouring this menacing world with endlessly anxious eyes.

Looking down at his waist to check his student's complexion, Zion stifled a sigh and handed her over to a villager.

He then headed straight towards the soldiers of Bayen.

"What is going on here?"

Zion's question made the soldiers lift their heads with fierce expressions.

However, upon seeing Zion, they hesitated in surprise instead.

Though familiar to the people of this village by now, Zion Laurel was a person who did not quite fit into this idyllic hamlet.

He had an inherent superior disposition that needed no exhibition, something that wasn't hidden even under cheap shirts or clunky glasses.

Consequently, the soldiers of Bayen immediately recognized Zion's noble aura.

"I asked what is happening."

As the soldiers' silence prolonged, Zion inquired again.

Even when restraining his strength, his voice carried intimidation, making them all the more tense.

All those soldiers affiliated with Bayen were commoners, making this aristocratic figure daunting to handle.

Because of this, the once pompous soldiers clamped their mouths shut in distress, while oppressed villagers voiced their cries instead.

"They are ordering us to vacate the village immediately! There's nothing to survive the winter on, and they're practically telling us to starve to death outside!"

"Exactly! Just telling us to leave without any plan, what in the world are we supposed to do?"

As the villagers vented their anger, the soldiers' gazes grew menacing again.

However, reluctant to rebuke due to Zion's presence, they suddenly straightened towards somewhere and squared their shoulders.

The rhythmic sound of hoofbeats followed, introducing a new voice into the uproar.

"What's all this commotion?"

It was an elegantly smooth voice.

Beneath its softness was an undercurrent of dissatisfaction, distinctly aristocratic.

A man striding into the crowded square on horseback wielded a whip in hand and donned the deep navy uniform similar to the soldiers.

Yet, the epaulets, medals adorning his shoulder and chest, and the embroidery clearly distinguished him from the common soldiers.

He was unmistakably an aristocrat, prompting the villagers to instinctively lower their heads.

During that time, a soldier referred to the man on horseback as the investigation team leader and reported the situation.

"They are disobeying the relocation order."

While receiving the report, the investigation team leader muttered in a displeased voice.

He clucked his tongue at the villagers from his elevated position.

"Is there anyone so naive that this needs explaining? It's you who almost died from the curse."

The disdainful rebuke made the villagers flinch.

As if annoyed to no end, the investigation team leader struck the handle of his whip against his palm, then pointed to a villager.

"You, speak. What is the issue?"

With a demand that blurred the line between permission and command, the pointed one hesitantly opened his mouth.

"The order to relocate due to severe curse conditions is justified. However, most of us have nowhere to go immediately. So, at least minimal support needed for settling..."

"If there's truly nowhere to go, why not entrust yourselves to a landlord?"

"Are you suggesting we become slaves?"

"Better than dying from the curse."

The villagers questioned their ears.

Leaving behind cultivated land from decades in tears was sorrowful enough, yet becoming slaves without fault?

Having mouths but no right to speak, they wept in frustration, and the one granted speech pleaded desperately.

"If that's the case, please let us remain in the village. When the end of the moon arrives, we will handle it."

"What can someone like you handle? If the curse consumes you and spreads to other cities, will you take responsibility for the damage?"

But the investigation team leader seemed to have made up his mind, and asked stubbornly.

So, the speaker found himself at a loss for words, and Zion, unable to watch further, spoke up instead.

"If you are the investigation team leader, focus on fulfilling the investigation duty first."

His soft murmur cast a chill over the plaza.

"When it's a situation requiring scrutiny, if you're too busy covering it up, you'll always be branded incompetent."

"... Who are you, then?"

Squinting at the mention of incompetence, the investigation team leader asked.

In truth, he too had been paying attention to Zion from earlier.

Yet, unlike the lower-ranked soldiers, he wasn't anxious over Zion's identity.

To the investigation team leader, this Brick Viscounty was essentially his front yard, making it unbelievable that someone he did not know could be important.

Such belief only further inflated his arrogance.

So, when Zion offered no reply and ignored him, the corners of the investigation team leader's mouth twisted fiercely.

"More than investigation, what seems necessary is punishment."

Without further warning, the investigation team leader swung his whip.

But Zion's grasp easily halted the flying whip aimed at his neck.

Startled, the leader pulled his arm, but Zion's grip didn't budge.

Feeling the slight as an insult, the investigation team leader's face flushed red.

Meanwhile, Zion maintained a cold demeanor typical of him.

Yet, it was Zion who felt more discomfort than the investigation team leader.

Though the leader was oblivious, it dredged up numerous unpleasant memories for Zion.

He pondered if dragging the trapped figure into the muddy ground might alleviate his foul mood a little.

But thinking of the people behind him, he restrained himself.

Should the figure take out frustrations later, it would only worsen his spirits.

Thus, without any fineness, Zion released his hold on the whip.

Causing the leader, who had been arduously struggling, to stumble greatly and nearly fall backward before hastily recovering balance.

Embarrassed by his blunder in front of subordinates, the leader's face contorted with shame.

"You!"

Grinding his teeth, the irate man finally drew his sword.

"I've understood the need for an example. I'll sever your limbs and scatter them across the streets."

Did Duchess Bayen even know of the sort of person bearing her banner?

With a heart already coarse, Zion only found further disdain for the old duchess.

Seeing Zion unyielding before the sword, the investigation team leader grew more frenzied.

Unable to bear it any longer, as he drew the horse's reins while brandishing his sword high, a delicate voice from somewhere broke the mounting tension.

"Is there a problem here?"

The voice disrupted the impending confrontation completely.

People present all felt differently upon identifying the source of that voice.

The villagers felt as if a savior had arrived, the soldiers felt guilty.

The leader, once arrogant, now wore a grim expression.

And Zion Laurel's already troubled heart became even more complex.

"Perhaps some unfortunate incidents occurred?"

Receiving no reply, a lovely lady with flowing black hair asked again with a voice full of concern.

Appearing with a butler, this lady, Evie, scanned her surroundings with large eyes before covering her mouth in shock at the sight of the leader's sword.

As Evie adopted the demeanor of delicate ladies seemingly on the verge of fainting, the leader hastily sheathed his sword.

However, instead of paying him attention, Evie turned and exclamatorily addressed Zion.

"Oh, teacher. Here you are. I've been looking for you!"

As Evie familiarly addressed Zion, the investigation team leader's forced smile grew even more rigid.

Yet, as if oblivious to the leader's predicament, Evie brazenly stood beside Zion, then looked up at the leader as if asking what on earth was going on.

Under her innocent gaze, he dismounted and formally greeted Evie.

"I am Orki Brick, commander of Bayen army's direct investigative unit overseeing Brick Viscounty. It is an honor to meet you, lady Evie Ariate of the Manyanya Tower."

"May the blessing of the Radiant Morning be with Viscount Brick's land. Thank you for your welcome. But it seems the ambiance is not quite right to rejoice in this meeting. Is anything the matter? If there's anything I can assist with, please let me know."

As Evie inquired about the surroundings even while receiving formal greetings, the investigation team leader's position grew even more awkward.

Although a member of the long-standing noble family governing Brick Viscounty, he had no choice but to show respect to Evie Ariate, a commoner, due to the towering authority and prestige of her group, Thiendavis, and Manyanya Tower.

"I was on a mission. Much appreciated, but it's not a matter for you to concern yourself with, Lady Ariate."

"Well, that's a relief."

As Evie dramatically patted her chest, the investigation team leader forced a smile.

He then ordered his soldiers to withdraw.

Yet perhaps his pride did not permit a smooth exit as, before mounting his horse, he growled at Zion.

"I'll see you again soon, glasses."

It was a title unlike anything Zion had heard in his life.

.

.

.

Evie had averted a clash with her intervention, but Zion wasn't particularly grateful.

"No need for thanks. I promised to protect you."

Evie quipped this quickly and smiled in a teasing manner.

As Bayen's investigation team retreated and villagers dispersed with disheartened looks, Zion too was on his way back home, and she naturally started following him.

"... Why are you following?"

"To escort you home. It's dangerous for Glasses to be alone."

Evie giggled as she called him Glasses, her behavior transparently mocking, leading Zion to deliberately stride forward with large steps.

Instead of being deterred, Evie quickened her pace alongside him.

"I never imagined it. Who would ever call the Count, Glasses."

"Being called Glasses is far more refined. Compared to being called an ill-mannered cad."

"If you like, should I call you that too?"

Evie said while suddenly stepping ahead and blocking Zion, looking up cutely from under his chin to ask.

Zion was momentarily baffled by her antics.

Evie cocked her head charmingly, then burst out laughing without a trace of deceit.

"It suits you well."

Evie's voice carried a tremendous sweetness, and so Zion abstained from scoffing about her fawning abilities.

Evie went a step further, making her butler join in.

"Isn't that right, butler?"

At Evie's prompt, the silent butler at her side also craned his neck and peered at Zion.

Startled, Zion bore an attack of surprise.

Although it was the same action, the small and delicate Evie doing it and her robust butler doing it felt entirely different.

As a result, Zion grew quite uncomfortable yet endured it for now.

Since he remained still while Evie looked, it was awkward to flinch when her butler leaned in.

Eventually, he tolerated it to an extent and then pushed them back when their gazes lingered excessively.

"Please step aside now."

"Yes, teacher."

Showing no further cunning, Evie stepped back promptly and did not follow any further, waving at Zion from the path.

"We've arrived, so I'll escort you this far. Tonight's dinner is stew. Have a pleasant evening. I'll see you again tomorrow."

Evie declared the parting words and promptly turned away.

As Zion watched her with skepticism, she asked Diez quietly.

"Did you see?"

"I did."

"Is it accurate?"

"Yes."

Invariance marked Diez's answer to Evie's query.

With firm certainty, Diez, recalling the vision that had exposed Evie's curse, declared.

"The count certainly bears the Noche's Curse."

---