The Villain Carries the Holy Sword – Chapter 41.2

Chapter 41.2: The Train Heading Towards Spring (3)

“If they create a situation where you and hundreds of residents are killed by rebels, public opinion to bring someone down will intensify.”

Rude also realized now that he was the bait. Cain, Oleciren, and Isoel, who were able to deduce the situation with just a few hints, looked like monsters.

“But wouldn’t the rebellion be more likely to suffer if the Ironbridge was destroyed and the people on this train were killed, rather than Lady Arian?”

Isoel glanced at the front of the train where Cain and Oleciren had left and said,

“Or there might be someone who wants to use the rebels to solidify their power.”

Orphil closed his mouth.

There was no evidence, but if it was the Arian he had known up to this point, such a plan was plausible.

Isoel opened her mouth with a warm look towards Rude.

“Rude, this is the world outside the wall. And Sir Orphil.”

Isoel took off the dull earrings that didn’t suit her.

Thump━.

Isoel’s weapon, the gravity hammer Credne.

As if the weight of the dining car had changed in an instant, the sound of the train became heavier.

“Lady Mia’s origin is a commoner, but you know her status has changed after marriage, right?”

The weapon that Isoel was wielding like her own was originally the symbol of ‘a certain family’. Orphil collapsed at the appearance of Credne.

Rude, too, was surprised and muttered,

“The Wareham Count family……?”

Even after the marriage, there was a lot of talk about Mia’s origins. Count Garick did many things to put an end to such talk, and one of them was to establish a guardian family.

At that time, it was ‘Wareham’ who readily agreed to become the guardian family.

Orphil asked in a trembling voice,

“Then, was it really Mia’s intention not to add ‘Wareham’ to her name?”

Even with a guardian family, public opinion about Mia didn’t seem to improve. This was largely because her name did not bear the surname.

Rumors had it that Mia had refused to go that far, but no one believed it.

Moreover, since there was no one to ask the Wareham Count family, the general consensus was that she had even refused to take their name.

Isoel, a true Wareham person, answered the question.

“Wareham Lord Count has accepted Lady Mia, so she will be my aunt privately.”

“Oh my god.”

That meant Rude’s status had also changed. Orphil felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, realizing that it was far larger than he had imagined.

At that moment,

Screech━.

Isoel heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. It must have been Cain doing what he did best.

When it came to breaking and killing things, Cain was quite trustworthy. Isoel added in a nonchalant tone,

“And my true identity is a secret.”

🔹🔹🔹

A black blade sliced through the tightly shut train door.

“Aaaagh!”

“Guards! Guards!”

“A madman with a sword has appeared!”

Chaos erupted in the passenger car the two had just entered.

But Cain and Oleciren, unfazed, sprinted through the train, their left hands clasped tightly together.

They held hands so that neither of them would fall or be separated from the other.

“Two more cars to the engine!”

Shk-THUNK!

Just like before, the blade cleaved through the door of the next car. It should’ve been a passenger car, yet an eerie silence hung in the air.

And darkness.

Dozens of figures could be dimly seen through the heavy velvet curtains, illuminated by the faint sunlight.

Even a fool could sense the hostility radiating from them. Cain clicked his tongue.

“They’re all wearing masks.”

“And carrying weapons.”

“They must be the rebels who sent Rude.”

“Or Arian’s soldiers trying to double-cross them.”

Their identities were unknown, but it hardly mattered.

Darkness belonged to Cain.

Releasing Oleciren’s hand, he was about to charge in.

But then—

SQUEEZE—

Oleciren held on tight. Confused, Cain turned to look at her.

Night shone within the darkness.

He felt the witch’s black power, awakened in her eyes, pierce through the gloom and spread throughout the car.

Thump, thump.

The figures, lying in wait, collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“No need for bloodshed.”

“Have you been practicing?”

“I may not be a full-fledged witch yet, but I can handle this much.”

Confirming that everyone was in a deep slumber, Cain started running again.

“Impressive.”

“I have more powerful abilities, if you’d like to see them.”

“And risk exposing your witch secret?”

“Never when it matters.”

“I haven’t seen that ‘never’ last long.”

The two exchanged playful banter as they ran. Then, they jumped up to the second car, which was filled with magic stones.

Clank, clatter, BOOM!

The train’s roar, now even louder, assaulted their ears.

Oleciren and Cain, stepping onto the train’s roof, looked ahead.

Oleciren brushed her hair out of her face as the strong wind blew, revealing the true scenery.

The sky was a piercing blue, Crowl’s canyon was brutally straight, and the Grand Orwell flowing below shimmered like scattered emerald dust.

And connecting that canyon was a colossal iron bridge—the Ironbridge.

The train was almost there.

Cain scanned beyond the tracks and clicked his tongue.

“They were planning to blow it up.”

With Cain’s winter powers and Oleciren’s witch sight, they could see magical bombs planted at intervals along the bridge.

“What kind of person lives their life able to predict all this?”

When he first heard about the Ironbridge, Cain had anticipated a potential attack, and upon encountering Rude, he had suspected a powerful force backing them.

Now, it all made sense.

Oleciren had met countless influential figures in Airian, but someone like Cain was a first.

“The battlefield.”

And so was his answer.

Before his answer could be swept away by the wind, Cain released her hand and jumped down to the engine by himself.

Oleciren, watching a few strands of his black hair flutter in the wind, murmured,

“You live on a battlefield wherever you go.”

Atop the train, where the majestic scenery intersected with a sinister plot, Oleciren made a silent vow.

In her kingdom, Cain’s battlefield would cease to exist.

Inside the engine car, the engineer lay dead on the floor, the long, lever-operated brake smashed to pieces.

The deafening roar of the train and the rapidly approaching death trap—the Ironbridge.

A decision had to be made.

Cain, as calmly as if he were discussing yesterday’s dinner, said,

“It wouldn’t be difficult for just us to escape.”

Even Asher, the weakest among them, was a knight; jumping off a moving train wouldn’t cause him serious injury.

“What about the other passengers?”

Oleciren’s voice trembled.

The lives of the passengers—families, lovers, and individuals who had boarded the train, excited for the rare journey across the reopened Ironbridge—rested on her decision.

“I suppose we have to choose. Whether we all die together, or only we live.”

Cain presented her with a cruel choice. But for Oleciren, there had never been a choice.

“In my kingdom, no one dies from train accidents.”

“And I’m part of your kingdom now?”

Oleciren, brushing back her gray hair, smiled.

“Of course.”

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