I Was Mistaken for a Saint in a Dark Fantasy

There is a rule known as the Custom of Hospitality.

It’s like a duty to guests that transcends all ages and regions.

The landlord who invites guests to a banquet does not harm them,

and the guests, in turn, do not harm the landlord.

This is a custom that exists not only in my previous life but in this world as well.

No, since it’s a world where aristocratism remains, it is a custom kept even more strictly than in a world where individualism has developed.

It is also a custom that I strictly adhere to.

Once I invite someone to a meal, I do my best to host them and cause them no harm.

This is both a conviction firmly rooted in my heart and my mental image.In some ways, it is similar to how a doctor does not discriminate against a patient based on good and evil.

That is why I put my best effort into the black sorcerers’ cooking.

Even though I used specialized parts with mixed preferences because I couldn’t bear to give them precious lean meat.

But even taking that into account, I did my best to the point where they’d have no choice but to say it’s delicious.

’Besides, only the base ingredients were like that, and the spices were incredibly expensive ones.’

The part of the body is an issue too, but due to the nature of demonic beast meat, it is bound to have a strong gamey smell.

Even so, smothering it in expensive spices would kill the individuality of the ingredients.

That’s why I meticulously calculated everything from the recipe to the spices to cover up the smell well,

and even delicately decorated it considering the aesthetics so they wouldn’t lose their appetite...

’And yet... this kind of reaction?’

To react like this, even vomiting.

Just how rude of a reaction was this?

”I’m disappointed. I even used Maniple Granny Wine...”

I even used an expensive red wine.

How many top-quality wines had I gone through to find one that could make even the gamey smell feel like a flavor?

Out of all of them, I specifically chose one with a long-lasting aftertaste where pomegranate and acidity harmonize...

But the black sorcerer was begging and vomiting, claiming this tasted bad.

”I wonder if the taste wasn’t to his liking.”

Nom.

I savored the liver steak prepared for my share.

The acidity spreading in my mouth and the texture of the liver were excellent.

The more I savored that harmony, the less I understood why the black sorcerer was reacting like this.

”Delicious...”

The chimera sorcerer, who was eating the liver steak with his hands next to me, chimed in.

Look.

Didn’t the chimera sorcerer, whose appetite had become no different from a child’s, also say it was delicious?

Originally, even chefs say that children’s appetites are the pickiest.

The fact that I satisfied that meant there was no problem with the cooking.

”Are you displeased with the cooking?”

Thanks to that, I forgot to manage my facial expression for the first time in a while and openly showed my displeasure toward the curse caster.

As if my sincerity and effort had been ignored.

Did my feelings get conveyed?

The begging black sorcerer turned pale and slammed his head onto the desk.

”H-Heeek...!!”

Just why was he being like this?

It’s not like he had some ridiculous allergy like a liver allergy.

I was harboring doubts about the curse caster like that.

”Professor. I think this is enough. We will take over the rest.”

The soldiers who must have been watching this from outside the interrogation room burst in.

Only upon seeing them did I recall the fact I had forgotten.

Right.

This was an interrogation. Not a hosting event.

Of course, it wasn’t that I had completely forgotten it was an interrogation.

It’s just that because of Jenny’s request, it was an interrogation closer to a doctor’s consultation rather than a police interrogation.

”Thank you for your cooperation, Professor. We will take over the interrogation from here. You may wait in a separate room while he provides his self-statement.”

When the soldiers pulled him up from his seat, the curse caster willingly followed behind them.

It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to be grateful to the soldiers.

— ”I’ll give you options, Rodenil. Will you also undergo that interrogation, or will you come quietly? Nod your head if you agree.”

— ”Mmph! Mmph!”

The blood mage in the waiting room, who hadn’t yet eaten with me, also nodded.

She nodded so vigorously that even I was a bit perplexed.

Two of the four black sorcerers moved to a separate room like that, and the chimera sorcerer with symptoms of delirium was dragged back to prison.

And the remaining one.

Belgian, who deals with plagues and necromancy.

That man alone was neither returned to his prison nor dragged to a separate room.

”Then we will take our leave.”

”Thank you for your consideration, Major.”

The place he was dragged to was a room dubbed ’The Shed’, where no records were left behind.

It’s roughly a place like the Security Bureau’s gulag.

A space where no records are left, and whatever interrogation happens here, the outside world would never know.

Except for the smell of blood and the stink that were forcibly masked by some perfume, and the sight of rather vicious items meant for Physical Conversations, it was no different from any other interrogation room.

Normally, bringing him here was something that shouldn’t be done.

Although I don’t know the reason, now that the black sorcerers have suddenly become cooperative, information must be extracted immediately before he changes his mind.

Rather, if bringing him to a room like this caused him to unnecessarily shut his mouth again, there was a possibility a court-martial would be held later.

Even so, there was only one reason he was moved here.

”Black Sorcerer Belgian. Is that correct?”

”...That is correct, Professor.”

It was because I had used a bit of the authority I possessed to meet him.

According to Imperial Prince Edmund, who made me a black magic professor.

Within the military, my rank is close to a Captain.

Therefore, I could have a consultation that ’leaves no records’ with an arrested black sorcerer like this.

The military in my previous life and the military here are vastly different in many ways, so I did wonder if this was really okay, but...

Anyway, as long as it was within my authority, it was possible to prioritize my personal circumstances over the information the black sorcerer held.

”People point fingers at black sorcerers for being cruel, but looking at this room, it seems we aren’t the only ones. Isn’t that right, Professor?”

The black sorcerer cracked a joke while incredibly tense.

Watching that, I dragged up memories from over a decade ago.

Belgian.

The very first black sorcerer I met after coming to this world.

The being who directly threatened my life.

He is also the reason I became obsessive about hiding my identity.

There were numerous incidents where I had to protect the people around me, but the fear I felt when I faced this guy could be called the true beginning of my obsession.

No matter how much money I had.

No matter how strong a bodyguard I had.

He was the one who made me realize this world was a dark fantasy where you could die instantly if you let your guard down even a little.

That ill-fated relationship came without any warning, just like when we first met.

If there was a difference from back then, it was just that the superiority of our stances had been reversed.

”I, too, am willing to answer your questions like them. In fact, I can proudly say I know much more than they do.”

”I’m sure you do. According to the written statement, you are a Rank 2. You probably know a lot more about the Round Table than they do.”

”Then why did you leave only me here?”

Belgian showed signs of anxiety.

”Do you perhaps hold a personal grudge against me?”

A grudge, huh...

Coincidentally, the feeling I held toward him was not a grudge.

Instead, the reason I brought him here.

”Is that all you have to say after seeing me?”

”...”

”Are you sure?”

”...You’ve become a professor. Director Schun.”

Right.

It’s because of this.

The only person in this world who was hostile to me and had seen the face beneath my mask.

That person was Belgian.

Just how anxious had I been that this guy might reveal my identity to other black sorcerers?

Since the Board of Inspection tinkered with people’s perceptions, my identity had never been exposed, but occasionally, when that fact came to mind, there were times I couldn’t sleep out of anxiety.

It wasn’t quite a trauma, just an anxiety level akin to waking up from a nightmare once every half year yelling, ’Fuck, it was a dream.’

So I called him separately to this room to both relieve that anxiety with this opportunity and because I was personally curious.

As a black sorcerer, he could be dragged off to the execution ground after spilling information, so I brought him here first like this.

”Eri. You did a good job too.”

Right after confirming this guy was that Belgian.

I comforted Eri, who was standing wide-eyed right behind me.

Because I guessed her mood probably wouldn’t be very good either.

Since he must have been the first Rank 2 mage she ever met.

She must have been perplexed too when she first ran into this guy.

As proof, when I suddenly spoke to her, Eri replied with clear signs of panic.

”Huh? Uh! Yeah. It was a bit tough.”

”...?”

What’s this?

Why is her reaction a bit lukewarm?

”Haha. It was tough.”

The way her eyes were darting around suggested she was hiding something from me.

Because that sight was so suspicious, I pressed her a bit more, and she returned it with a whisper.

”That guy named Belgian. Why does he know your identity, Teacher?”

”...Do you not know him?”

”I don’t remember him at a~ll.”

”...As long as you’re not hurt, it’s fine.”

Right.

It’s a good thing if you’re healthy without trauma.

Harboring the impression that it was foolish of me to have been anxious all alone,

I brought up the question I had been putting off with a much lighter heart.

”Belgian. Your way of speaking has changed. I think you were more confident back then compared to now.”

”...I was.”

At the time, his narcissism was so bloated he even referred to himself as ’the great me’.

To the point it felt somewhat theatrical.

In contrast, right now...

”Your personality has softened a lot too. I believe you flew into a rage just from seeing my face back then, claiming I deceived you.”

There was just a single illegitimate child standing before my eyes.

His reaction was also different from the past.

If it had been the past, he would have taken even these words as a provocation and had a sudden outburst.

Right now, he was meekly admitting it with a self-deprecating smile.

”Because back then, I thought you and I were on equal footing.”

”Are your thoughts different now?”

”I, too, know my place.”

The illegitimate child, who had once been full of confidence, spoke with drooping shoulders.

”At the time, I was called a genius among black sorcerers. I thought so too. But watching your great performances through the newspaper... it all felt pointless.”

He spoke while pointing to his leg.

”My eyes aren’t so blind as to place a guy like me, who limps because of the gun I was shot with that day, on the same line as a Saint who doesn’t even possess divine power.”

Hearing those words, my heart grew somewhat heavy.

Because I, too, knew well the sense of frustration when facing a genius. Since it was a situation I often encountered even in medical school, I couldn’t help but know it well.

Of course, that didn’t go so far as to turn into pity for the human known as Belgian.

It merely brought up the weight I felt when facing a genius; it didn’t serve as a reason to pity him.

’Although, before that, I’m quite far from the genius this person is thinking of.’

Well, that’s not what’s important right now.

Anyway, I think I understood the reason why he ended up like this.

In that case, another question.

”Why did you not reveal my identity to the other black sorcerers? If you had told the Round Table, you would have been recognized for a considerable contribution.”

I’m well aware of the structure of the Round Table of Thirteen, having heard about it plenty from my executive secretary, Simeon.

— ”There is a unit called ’contribution points’ in the Round Table. You can receive contribution points by being of help to the Round Table. With those contribution points, you can buy knowledge or information regarding magic possessed by the Round Table.”

— ”You know the Round Table well, Simeon.”

— ”I often ran into black sorcerers during my pilgrimage. Most of those encounters didn’t end well, though.”

According to Simeon, black sorcerers accumulated knowledge and increased their level of mastery through these contribution points.

The methods to gain contribution points were diverse.

Taking on commissions from the Round Table.

Assisting in the research of superiors within the Round Table.

Selling knowledge or information.

They would buy and learn new magic or training methods through the contribution points obtained this way.

Of course, the only problem was that the contribution points required for purchases were absurdly high compared to the contribution points earned from selling.

However, even taking that into account, with the information Belgian possessed, he likely could have aimed for the next level of mastery.

— Director Schun and Yulian are the same person.

Director Schun and Yulian, whom the black sorcerers were grinding their teeth trying to kill.

The information that these two were the same person was incredibly precious to black sorcerers, who could cast a curse using nothing but a name and information on the people around them.

Therefore, if he had told this information to the Round Table...

”You might have been able to aim for the 4th Rank. If you had done that, my personal safety would have been in even greater danger.”

”I suppose it would have.”

”But why didn’t you tell them?”

I probably would have been living a very exhausting life by now.

That’s why I was curious.

Just why did this guy not reveal it?

I wanted to know the secret behind this heavenly luck, which couldn’t be explained merely by the fact that I was lucky.

”The reason why I didn’t tell this to anyone, you ask?”

Belgian asked back with eyes that seemed to have somewhat lost their soul.

Eyes showing glimpses of resignation and fatigue.

Those eyes turned toward his own leg.

Soon, a voice filled with resentment burst out.

”Do you know this, Director Schun? People are beasts with a habit of pretending to hold admiration for a genius’s rise while secretly going even crazier for their downfall.”

He pointed to his leg.

”The day I was shot by your gun. I became a half-wit mage.”

That makes sense.

It was an expensive ammunition, after all.

It was also a powerful ammunition capable of pulling off an assassination on a count who was formerly at the 5th Rank.

Even if he had somehow removed the ammunition, the lingering divine power would have been interfering with his magic.

”At first, they seemed to respect me. Those who had expectations for my genius also said I would be able to recover. But that mask didn’t take long to peel off.”

Belgian twisted his lips as if he recalled something.

”At first they were testing the waters, but after they were sure I had become a half-wit, they began to ignore me. That’s why I didn’t reveal your identity.”

”What does that have to do with anything?”

”It was highly amusing.”

Belgian chuckled in a low voice.

”The sight of those who ignored me, the elders who abandoned me, falling one by one and gradually losing their confidence because of the miracles you created... I liked it quite a lot. So I kept it a secret. For whose benefit should I help them?”

”Did you not covet the contribution points?”

”Even if I learned it...”

Tap, tap.

Belgian tapped his leg.

”My level of mastery wouldn’t rise with the knowledge gained from it anyway. So rather than doing that, wouldn’t it be more amusing to capture the downfall of those who ignored me with my own two eyes?”

In other words, rather than being loyal to the Round Table, Belgian...

”I’ll speak honestly. I hope you put on even more great performances. That way, I can see those who ignored me floundering in despair. Well, as you can see, it’s a shame I won’t be able to see that anymore.”

He was still affiliated with them in order to get his revenge.

”Of course, it’s also a shame that I couldn’t get revenge on the family that abandoned me.”

I, who had been quietly listening to his story, fell into thought for a moment.

Soon, I spoke with difficulty.

”By any chance... have you ever harmed innocent people in the past? Have you ever spread plagues, or killed a person to turn them into a ghoul?”

At that, Belgian burst into a chuckle.

”Black sorcerers are mistaken, but that’s an inefficiency. It is far more efficient to wait for winter and control a ghoul than to kill a living person. Pus from a rotting corpse has a far better effect than from a living person. I know it well.”

”Have you ever experimented on people?”

The moment he heard that, Belgian violently scrunched up his face in a frown.

And lifting the hair off his forehead to reveal his brand, he said,

”This is the brand carved by the hateful father who sired me. It is the brand he carved during disposal after using me and my mother as the magic experiment table for my half-brother. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t view me as the same kind of human as him.”

Glaring with eyes blazing with anger, he burst out in a fit of rage.

It seemed I had touched a reversed scale.

Those words didn’t seem to be a lie.

Black sorcerers’ evil deeds were famous, but the nobles’ evil deeds were not to be underestimated either.

Taking people secretly from the Limbus Pit to experiment with magic and then returning them also happened behind the scenes.

It’s not for nothing that H-Sector’s human trafficking business stays afloat no matter how much they face a crackdown.

That’s why credibility could be seen in Belgian’s attitude.

”Are those all your questions?”

”They are.”

Thanks to that, I gained certainty.

”That concludes my questions. Then, I’ll make a proposal.”

”...A proposal?”

”Will you not use that knowledge of yours for atonement?”

Unlike the other three.

This guy still had room for rehabilitation.

’Because the vaccine was also created by referencing this guy’s research notebook.’

He was especially needed for the treatment of the Demon Disease using black magic, so,

I reached out my hand to him.