Chapter 95.2: Spring of Salvation (3)
Worrall hesitated again.
Cain seized the opportunity to press further.
“They must have left earlier. Those departing today would be the rearguard and supply units.”
“Yes.”
“As a member of the Railway Bureau, you should have reported this beforehand. Why the silence?”
Oleciren, alarmed by Cain’s interrogative tone, tugged at his sleeve.
“Cain.”
“I’ll take the blame.”
Shing—
Cain swiftly drew Agweska and held it against Worrall’s throat.
Vanderbilt reflexively moved behind Cain, anticipating a potential ambush.
Isoel pulled Oleciren with her, retreating towards a sturdy-looking wall.
Stationmaster Worrall, standing tall under the flickering lights, asked without turning around,
“May I inquire as to the reason for this sudden hostility?”
“Firstly, I can’t trust anyone from the Railway Bureau within Ross territory.”
“You are quite suspicious.”
“Secondly, that idiot might not have noticed, but the railway workers here weren’t particularly welcoming.”
“……?”
Oleciren tilted her head in confusion.
Worrall, careful not to touch the chilling black blade, slowly turned around.
His face, that of a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed mustache, remained unchanged.
However, shrouded in the deep shadows cast by the flickering lights of the underground passage, his appearance seemed somewhat unsettling.
“They veiled our eyes. The station was eerily empty, wasn’t it?”
Even when the Royal Knights had come to apprehend Cain at Lindbloom Station, the evacuation of passengers had happened just moments before their arrival.
It was impossible to easily control the flow of people in a busy satellite city station.
However, Roscommon Station was different.
An unnatural silence had been cleverly concealed by the railway workers’ applause and their tightly packed formation.
The fact that there was no one else present except for Cain and his companions was clearly abnormal.
Worrall calmly lied,
“We adjusted the train schedule in advance because of your arrival.”
“And thirdly.”
Cain had no intention of engaging in a battle of truth with him. Regardless of the first two reasons, the last one was the most important.
Cain pointed to his nose with his left hand.
“I can smell it, even through the perfume.”
“……?”
“The stench of blood.”
“……!”
“And the smell of rotten earth. Stationmaster Worrall, what’s your last name?”
In Airian, anyone, regardless of their social status, could hold public office.
You can climb as much as you prove your ability, but there is an invisible ceiling.
The stationmasters of major stations in each territory were usually appointed according to the wishes of the territory’s lord.
When things didn’t go their way, the position would most likely go to a noble they had some connection with.
Of course, the stationmaster of a huge station like Roscommon had to be a close aide to Marquis Ross.
“Worrall Ross?”
Cain took a wild guess.
Oleciren, who had been listening, shook her head.
“He can’t be from the Ross family. The Ross bloodline has been dying out for decades, and currently, the only one alive is Marquis Ross.”
Whether it was a purge or a cleanup.
After the current Heatherward Ross became the marquis, members of the Ross family started dying one by one.
They were already a bloodline that rarely ventured outside their territory, but with their numbers dwindling and Marquis Ross not producing an heir, it was widely believed that they were on the verge of extinction.
At that moment, Worrall’s lips twisted.
Creeeaaak—
His mouth stretched impossibly wide, his cheeks splitting open.
He spoke through his gaping maw,
“I was once Worrall Ross.”
“And now?”
“Well, I wonder if a puppet, manipulated even in death, deserves any name at all.”
Swoosh—
Worrall raised his hand.
He extended his unusually pale index finger, attempting to push away Agweska’s blade.
Crack—
“How……?”
Of course, he thought he would push the sword away, but his finger skin was torn and red flesh was exposed to the bone.
Cain chuckled, facing Worrall.
“What tough skin. An ordinary blade wouldn’t even leave a scratch.”
“It seems the rumors about the Sword Master weren’t entirely unfounded.”
“You lured us here to test that, didn’t you?”
Footsteps, footsteps—
From both ends of the underground passage.
The railway workers they had seen earlier approached with grim expressions.
They hadn’t noticed it under the sunlight, but as the dimly lit underground passage filled with them, the others finally understood the smell Cain had mentioned.
Worrall shook his head resolutely.
“That’s not true. You have to pass through this passage to board the north-bound train.”
“Then what about them?”
They didn’t sense hostility.
However, they felt an instinctive aversion.
It sent shivers down their spines, as if they were witnessing something that shouldn’t exist.
Worrall, maintaining his monstrous form, took a step forward.
“A warning to you.”
“How kind. For someone from Ross to warn us, his enemy.”
“I would like to criticize you for being narrow-minded if you think that we are on the same side because we once had the same surname.”
Cain nodded his head straight away at Worrall’s words and agreed.
“It’s not wrong.”
“I’ll show you the evidence too.”
Rip—
Worrall ripped open his uniform without hesitation. Silver buttons clattered to the floor, revealing his flesh.
The smell of rotten earth, as Cain had described, wafted out, stronger than before.
“Ugh—!”
Oleciren covered her mouth with her hand, turning her head away.
Worrall’s chest had a fatal stab wound, and a sticky, jet-black, rotten liquid was rippling there.
“As the princess said, the Ross bloodline is dead. Yet, even in death, those bearing the name ‘Ross’ are denied peace, forced to serve in this wretched state.”
“Undead.”
Cain instantly recognized his condition.
It was likely that the others blocking the passage were in a similar state.
Worrall’s eyes widened momentarily.
“You know our state?”
“I’ve seen plenty.”
While rare in the ordinary world, they were common enemies at the Great Wall.
Worrall was puzzled by Cain’s composure, but he soon nodded and continued,
“That simplifies matters. We……”
We—
Worrall’s voice echoed through the underground passage. The dead, watching from afar, echoed his words.
“We seek the destruction of Ross.”
Seek—
Cain believes that people are most honest not when they are happy, but when they are negative.
With that in mind, he lowered Agweska.
Worrall, his grotesque smile returning, offered a piece of advice to Cain, the enemy of his enemy.
“Great adversary of Heatherward, if you head north like this, you will die.”
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Translation-(COMPLETED) – The Villain Carries the Holy Sword𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥《⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐》!!
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