Chapter 108: In the Name of the Blood Pact (3)
“A secret organization? Like the Black Rose that the she-cat created?”
“It will be even more discreet than that. And I plan to serve as the organization’s figurehead.”
“Figurehead? What does that mean?”
“Whether officially or unofficially, I won’t reveal myself as its leader.”
Dorneth looked at me with a puzzled expression, as if to ask why I was making things so unnecessarily complicated. But Fenry immediately caught on to my intent.
“You’re saying you’ll let people assume whether or not you’re the leader on their own.”
“Exactly.”
“And what do you gain from that?”
“Time.”
At the mention of time, Fenry let out a smirk.
“You want to make them believe there’s an even larger faction behind you, don’t you?”
Her insight was razor-sharp as always.
Unlike Dorneth, who was more accustomed to direct dealings, Fenry’s years of working in the shadows clearly hadn’t gone to waste.
“With the formation of the Blood Pact, the assumption will be natural. To the general public, I’ll appear to be the leader. But to those trying to target us, I’ll seem like just a figurehead for some unnamed organization.”
“They’ll dig deep into what’s behind you.”
“They won’t find anything. Because there is nothing behind me.”
“Hmm.”
“Even if they do uncover the truth, it’ll take quite some time. And until then, they’ll hesitate to attack us, unsure of who’s really pulling the strings.”
“Not a bad idea.”
Sharbadin, who had been quietly listening, nodded in agreement, adding weight to my suggestion.
“An unknown enemy is always the scariest. And it’s not hard to achieve. All we have to do is publicly announce the Blood Pact while subtly spreading hints that someone powerful is backing Sir Alex.”
“And who exactly do we leak this to, Shar?”
“There are plenty of informants and spies we captured just a few days ago, remember? The ones Sir Natone and I rounded up.”
“Ah! You really are a genius, my fiancée! Truly worthy of me. Hahaha!”
“….”
His unfiltered display of affection for his wife, regardless of time or place, was a sight to behold.
But there was no denying that Sharbadin’s idea had real merit.
The night when Nella had visited my lodging with the elf stones, Sharbadin and Natone had embarked on a mission to sweep out the spies lurking in Beneta.
The operation had aimed to eliminate the eyes and ears planted throughout Beneta before the Blood Pact was formally established, and they had captured over a hundred spies in the process.
These spies were now imprisoned in the castle’s underground dungeon, and efforts were underway to identify their clients.
Of course, there was no need to ask who the mastermind was.
Kamel Blazer.
Most of these spies were likely connected to Blyer.
Leaking information to these spies was essentially the same as feeding false intel to the Mad Butcher.
If we mixed truth with lies and spread it skillfully, it could cause confusion in the Mad Butcher’s camp—a card worth playing.
“It will divert attention from the mine, making it easier to stabilize operations there.”
“But that means more attention will shift to this guy. Is he okay with that?”
As all three pairs of eyes turned toward me, I nodded solemnly.
“The attention will fall on me for now, but with the right packaging, it’ll actually make me safer.”
“Safer?”
“The more solid my presence seems, the easier it will be to hide my real identity.”
The three of them nodded, recalling the name they knew me by.
Arthur Clayton, the Divine Hunter.
If my name and Divine Name became widely known, it would inevitably draw the attention of other Nameholders.
Given the current strength of the Blood Pact, we couldn’t handle them yet. I needed time to grow stronger.
At the very least, I had to secure the entirety of Tobaron before I could feel any semblance of safety.
“If you fail, your true identity might be exposed even faster.”
“If I do nothing, it’s the same outcome. Actually, it might already be too late. That’s why I need to strike first—to show that I’m not Arthur.”
“Exposed? To who?”
“Arcane of Destiny.”
“Ah, right. That bastard exists!”
Fenry slammed her fist on the table, muttering a curse under her breath.
The one who had read my Name and leaked it to the Black Market. However, I had no way of knowing how much of my Name he had uncovered.
The reason I was volunteering to step forward as the figurehead was simple:
To survive the Mad Butcher, I needed to establish the idea of him.
The Mad Butcher had to believe that the “Arthur Clayton” they were targeting was someone else entirely—the true “him.”
“My information has already spread far and wide.”
My face had been exposed, along with parts of my abilities.
Even the voodoo doll Vandyke had seen me. If the Mad Butcher was as perceptive as I feared, he would soon realize that I, Alex, was merely a stand-in for “him.”
And it wouldn’t take long for the Mad Butcher to deduce that the stand-in might actually be the one they were after.
To prevent this, I needed to muddy the waters.
The first step was no longer hiding but boldly stepping into the spotlight.
The second step was to present the Mad Butcher with a convincing decoy—a solid reason to believe that a real organization existed behind me.
Which meant… I needed new members.
I required a front-line commander to stand beside me as a convincing piece in my game.
If rumors of “his” people spread, the Mad Butcher needed to see them as credible threats, figures with real power and recognition within Tobaron.
“And, most importantly, they need to be strong.”
Someone who fit all these demanding criteria.
A single name naturally surfaced in my mind.
The former captain of Blyer’s knights, Lochter Felice.
In the novel, he was positioned as the Mad Butcher’s counterforce—a hero.
Lochter, the Hero, was a perfect match for my needs.
The ideal scenario would be recruiting Lochter before the Blood Pact was finalized and presenting him as my ally. But with no clue as to his whereabouts, that seemed nearly impossible for now.
“Any updates on Lochter’s location?”
“No. It’s as if he’s a ghost. His trail went cold after he left Blyer’s territory.”
“Not even a trace?”
“The bastard’s moving like an assassin rather than a knight. Even the Black Rose is having trouble tracking him.”
“Moving like an assassin…?”
Lochter Felice was a traditional knight.
He couldn’t move like an assassin even if he wanted to.
“Unless…”
Unless Karl was involved.
If Karl Bastain was with him, it made sense. Karl was a seasoned assassin who had evaded Crux’s elite forces for years.
If Karl had taken my advice and gone to Blyer, there was a high chance he was now traveling with Lochter.
“We should redirect the Black Rose agents to Etor Territory.”
“Why? Weren’t you the one who said we needed him? He’s the proof of the gold mine’s value.”
“If we haven’t caught his trail by now, we’re unlikely to in the future. And the longer the Black Rose remains in Blyer’s territory, the more dangerous it becomes for them.”
“Dangerous?”
“The ones tracking Lochter are none other than Blyer’s forces.”
Lochter Felice was a 5-star knight.
To take him down, Blyer would undoubtedly send terrifyingly powerful individuals—Kamel’s closest confidants.
Even Fenry wouldn’t stand a chance. The Black Rose alone would be hopelessly outmatched.
My words seemed to drive the gravity of the situation home to Fenry, who nodded gravely.
“Then why Etor Territory?”
“I left him a signal. He might show up there.”
“A signal?”
I had planted a message for Lochter during the Bloody Banquet, mentioning Etor.
But whether he would actually make it there was another question.
Having become the Mad Butcher’s target, he might not even have the freedom to move.
“We need to locate Lochter before the Mad Butcher does.”
Since I had already altered Lochter’s fate, relying solely on the novel’s events was too risky.
It seemed that once the Blood Pact ceremony concluded, I’d have to personally set out to find him.
“The news about the curse being lifted from the abandoned mine will spread across Beneta by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“It’s necessary to cement your role in the Blood Pact. The elders have already approved the pact, and all the preparations are complete. The ceremony will take place soon.”
Dorneth’s voice carried a sense of relief.
He must have been worn out from all the work surrounding the mine and the Blood Pact.
Tomorrow, Beneta was bound to be abuzz with activity.
The name “Alex” would spread across the streets, markets, and taverns.
The man who lifted the curse on the mine.
“Is there anything I need to prepare?”
“Think of a name for your guild. You might have to reveal it during the ceremony.”
“…A name, huh.”
Dorneth continued talking in the background, but his words faded into a blur.
Naming the guild brought a torrent of thoughts rushing through my mind.
Reto once told me:
A name holds the power to prove existence.
That’s why Reto had abandoned his name—to erase his existence.
I understood the power of a name.
When I took on the name “Arthur Clayton,” the world began to notice me.
The name of the guild I would lead going forward…
What should it be?
***
The Curse on the Abandoned Mine Has Been Lifted!
From dawn, this was the only topic of conversation among Beneta’s residents.
Mercenaries belonging to Beneta had been spreading the news across the territory since early morning, and the announcement spread like wildfire.
Alex, the human.
His name now carried a weight that the residents couldn’t ignore.
“The human… they say he’s the Saint of Salvation.”
“They’re even saying he tore apart the black monster that threw the lord.”
“That has to be made up, right? The lord is so strong.”
“Plenty of people saw it happen at the castle. It’s true.”
“Well, if he managed that, I guess it makes sense he lifted the curse on the mine.”
“I heard he’s also the one who created the Judges.”
“…What? Th-the Judges?”
At the mention of the Judges, a hush fell over the gathered residents, some of whom began nervously looking around.
For those with guilty consciences, the Judges were like walking nightmares.
There was even a saying: If you’re caught by the Judges’ clubs, you’d better bite your tongue and die.
It was rumored that the Judges had recently been involved in interrogating captured spies, striking fear into criminals.
“What kind of man could he be?”
Merging various stories and rumors, the name “Alex” was becoming an unforgettable legend in the minds of Beneta’s people.
Naturally, information about him was selling like hotcakes outside the territory.
The Blue Rose’s information guild was seeing an unprecedented boom in business.
Their primary customers were human merchants.
Hoping to forge connections in Beneta, these merchants were intensely curious about Alex—the one who could serve as their bridge to the otherwise insular races.
“Basic information costs 1,000 gold.”
“…That’s steep.”
The name Alex.
A fallen noble of the Marcia family.
Skilled in daggers and crossbows.
A Divine Nameholder with a rare, luminous trait.
While intriguing, the merchants found this information insufficient to curry favor with him.
“Is there anything else? Maybe he has a fondness for women, money, or specific hobbies?”
“Ah, we do have some premium information… but…”
“Premium information…?”
The elf smiled, raising five fingers.
“5,000 gold.”
“…Are you joking?”
“Sorry, orders from the master. No negotiations. If you’re not interested, you don’t have to buy it.”
“…Fine, I’ll take it.”
Cursing the unseen master under their breath, the merchants reluctantly handed over their gold.
[Obsessed with pancakes.]
“…What is this?”
“Oh, that’s just a bonus. The real info is on the back.”
“The back?”
When they turned the card over, the merchants let out low groans.
No one could complain about the price after reading what was written there.
[It is believed that the two racial leaders are forming a Blood Pact with Alex because of a powerful organization backing him.]
“Wait, there’s even more premium information…”
“…How many premium tiers are there?!”
When the elf held up ten fingers this time, the merchants stormed off, muttering curses about the master.
Any further, and they feared they’d be bankrupt.
In the city of Beneta, where the coexistence of races was the norm, a single human had begun stirring the winds of change.