Chapter 119

“Mr. Wells, do you really intend to believe a story like this?”

One of the representatives, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke up against the Town Head’s judgment.

From an objective standpoint, Harold and his group were suspicious to the extreme. It was understandable that anyone would find it difficult to believe such a far-fetched tale.

In response, Wells let out a heavy sigh before answering.

“I understand what you all want to say. However, Fiona... you believe what they are saying, don't you?”

When asked, Fiona didn't hesitate for a second.

“Yes. I have confirmed both the monsters and the underground facility—which has clearly been modified by human hands—with my own eyes. This is a matter that must be dealt with immediately.”

“But still...”

The man, still reluctant, glanced sideways at Harold.

Fiona understood the meaning behind that gaze, but she pressed on regardless.

“I understand the opinion that they are suspicious. From what I have heard, it is certainly true that Mr. Stokes’s history is far from pure, and perhaps this entire situation is a scheme of his devising.”

“If you understand that much, then shouldn't we be discussing this with even more caution?”

“It is impossible for us to make an informed judgment when we have no information beyond what he has disclosed. Even if this story is merely a convenient excuse to drive people out of town, the potential danger of a massive horde of monsters writhing underground remains a reality. Right now, we must promptly confirm the truth. If it is real, we need to find a fundamental solution.”

Fiona spoke with a firm, resolute tone, making the fact that she had been pale with fear until this morning seem like a distant memory. Faced with her conviction, the momentum of the opposition began to crumble.

“To that end, we must prioritize the evacuation of the townspeople. If my father were alive and had seen what I saw, I am certain he would have made the same decision.”

“...Even Lawrence, huh? You certainly do take after him...”

Harold didn't know how much respect Fiona’s father had commanded in this town, but his name seemed to provide the final push. This time, no one spoke another word of protest.

Gauging the timing, Harold brought the meeting to a close.

“It seems we’re done here. Now, get moving.”

---

Once the discussion ended, everyone moved swiftly.

The town representatives and the Knight Order immediately began selecting personnel to confirm the state of the underground. The following day, they traveled to the deepest part of the mine once more with Harold.

The town was represented by three people: Fiona, the Vice Town Head, and a member of the Vigilante Corps. From the Knight Order, there were two: Sid, who had at least some modicum of understanding regarding Harold, and the captain, Lagareth.

A total of six people, including Harold, made their way to the underground facility. There, each of them performed the silent rite of passage: standing speechless before the sheer scale of the monster horde.

After confirming the threat, the representatives began calling for an immediate evacuation. The official story was that the mine was filled with flammable gas, creating an imminent risk of a massive explosion.

This was a lie agreed upon by Harold, the representatives, and the Knight Order. They reasoned that a gas leak would trigger a more immediate sense of danger than a far-fetched story about monsters lurking in the dark.

The ruse worked. A fair number of people began leaving Burston the very next day.

Some had likely felt a sense of stagnation in the town or had already been considering leaving; this commotion simply provided the necessary push. The fact that relocation sites had already been secured further smoothed the transition.

The promise that this was a "temporary evacuation"—that they could return once the situation settled—was also vital. In reality, it was highly doubtful they would ever return. If the situation Harold anticipated came to pass, the town would likely be uninhabitable.

Of course, he kept that to himself.

(In exchange, I’ve prepared relocation sites and aid funds, so it’s fine...)

He repeated the excuse to himself, conveniently ignoring his duty to be transparent. It was obvious that things would get messy if he told the whole, ugly truth.

Two weeks passed. The evacuation was proceeding at a decent pace.

However, since there was no way to know exactly when the monsters would move, Harold couldn't afford to be complacent. He had to prepare for the worst.

“What is the status of the 'Red' we were missing?”

“The shipment arrives tomorrow. That will give us enough to meet the calculated requirement,” Lyst answered without hesitation.

They would manage to gather the materials in time, but the installation window would be narrow. Harold briefly wondered if things might actually go smoothly for once, but he immediately dismissed the thought.

Experience had taught him better. If the evacuation finished early, Harold wouldn't have to put his life on the line—and there was no way the universe, which loved hounding him with death flags, would let him off that easily.

It was far more productive to focus on lowering the difficulty of the inevitable life-or-death struggle.

“The installation of 'White' is complete. If this is effective, we might resolve the situation without a major incident, but...”

“Hmph. I’m not counting on it. That’s why I had the 'Red' prepared.”

The first stage of the operation for when the monsters moved was 'White Line,' followed by 'Red Line.'

If those failed, Harold would have to resort to his final measure. He suspected, with high probability, that it would come to that.

He let out a long sigh. This was a race against time with thousands of lives in the balance. He had to play every card in his hand.

After finishing his briefing with Lyst, Harold stood up. He still had work to do.

As he walked through Burston on patrol, the lack of vitality was striking. A grim, heavy atmosphere hung over the streets. It was only natural, given the rumors of a town-level explosion.

The real problem, however, was the group of residents who either didn't believe the danger or thought it was being exaggerated. They adamantly refused to leave.

One couldn't expect everyone to simply pack up their lives just because they were told there was gas underground.

As Harold made his rounds, his eyes caught a man making a scene.

“I don't care what you say! I’m not leaving my home!”

“Sir, I understand, but staying here is genuinely dangerous,” Keith countered. Despite Keith’s intimidating build and fierce expression, the man stood his ground with impressive grit.

To those refusing to evacuate, a man like this was a focal point of resistance.

And that was exactly why Harold had to target him.

“What’s all the noise about?”

Harold pushed through the crowd of onlookers and stepped between the two. All eyes immediately fixed on him.

“W-Who are you?”

“His employer. And you... must be one of the idiots refusing to move.”

“...Yeah, that's right. This is my family's home, and—”

“I'm done with your prattle. In short, you’d rather die than move. Is that it?”

Before the man could even blink, Harold drew the black sword at his waist. He slashed in one fluid, elegant motion. It was a strike of such refined beauty that, despite its brutality, the onlookers were momentarily captivated.

The blade did not draw blood. Instead, it precisely shredded the man’s heavy jacket.

A heavy silence fell. Realizing what had just happened, the man collapsed into the dirt, unable to make a sound. Screams and gasps erupted from the crowd.

“W-What are you doing...?” the man stammered, his voice trembling with the terror of a man who had just seen his own death.

“You have no intention of leaving. But if you stay, you will die. Since you’re so eager to perish, I’ll just kill you myself and save the monsters the trouble. You, your family—I'll end you all right here.”

Harold spoke with chilling indifference.

If you stay, you die. If you’re prepared for that, I’ll kill you now. He made sure to speak loudly enough for every lingering resident in the crowd to hear.

The sheer, murderous logic of his words left everyone speechless.

“Why the shocked faces? You and your family chose death the moment you refused to leave. I’m just moving the schedule up. Isn't that right?”

To the people watching, Harold wasn't a man. He was a monster wearing human skin.

“Hey! What’s going on here!”

Several members of the Knight Order, who had been patrolling nearby, came rushing toward the commotion. Harold snorted and sheathed his sword.

“You've cheated death today,” he spat.

He turned and walked away, the crowd parting before him like a physical wave of terror. No one dared to meet his eyes. In a matter of minutes, Harold’s reputation in Burston had been cemented.

---

Naturally, his actions didn't sit well with the Knights.

A few hours later, as night began to fall, Harold was summoned by Lagareth to a room the Order was using as a temporary base. Lagareth’s expression, usually stern, was now murderous.

“I want an explanation for this.”

“An explanation? For what?”

“Don't play games with me! I heard you tried to cut down a resident who refused to evacuate!”

“What of it?”

Lagareth’s temper snapped at Harold’s lack of remorse. He lunged forward, grabbing Harold by the collar.

“'What of it'?! You tried to murder an innocent man! Do you have anything else to say for yourself?!”

He certainly has the spirit of a Knight, Harold thought, almost admiring the man’s genuine sense of justice. It wasn't an act; he truly couldn't forgive Harold's past or his present "crimes."

Unfortunately, a sense of justice was a luxury they couldn't afford right now.

Harold stared back, unmoved. “Staying in this town is a death sentence. I simply gave them a demonstration to make them understand that.”

“You bastard...!”

Lagareth raised a fist, but a knock at the door stopped him mid-swing. Harold didn't miss the opening.

“Enter,” Harold commanded.

The door opened to reveal Fiona and the man Harold had "attacked" earlier. Lagareth froze, recognizing the resident's face. Harold brushed Lagareth’s hand off his collar as the captain’s grip slackened.

“I have brought the collaborator,” Fiona announced.

“You’re late. I told you to keep to the schedule.”

“I apologize, Lord Harold. It was my fault,” the man said, looking sheepish. “The other opposition members came to see me, and it took time to slip away.”

“Hmph. Well, it seems your performance was effective.”

“...Wait,” Lagareth stammered, looking between them. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Allow me to explain,” Fiona said, stepping in. She knew that if Harold explained, he would likely insult Lagareth’s intelligence, which wouldn't help matters.

“Immediately after our meeting the other day, Mr. Harold instructed me to find a resident with acting experience. This man was the best candidate.”

“I used to be in a small theater troupe when I was younger,” the man added, looking a bit embarrassed.

The realization finally dawned on Lagareth, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“Mr. Harold gave him three tasks,” Fiona continued. “First, to act as the leader of the evacuation opposition to draw them all together. Second, to pretend to be nearly murdered in front of witnesses. And third, to keep this a secret from everyone, including his family. He agreed in exchange for more generous compensation once the evacuation is complete.”

“I was never actually against leaving,” the man explained. “And for that kind of support, I had no reason to say no.”

“So, Harold’s goal was...”

“Exactly,” Fiona confirmed. “By creating a leader for the opposition and then appearing to suppress him through sheer terror, he broke the momentum of the entire movement. It was all a performance.”

“And what about the people who came to see you?” Harold asked the man.

“Most of them wanted to know if the rumors were true and what I planned to do. I told them that if we stayed, Lord Harold would kill us all, so I was leaving immediately. That seemed to do the trick.”

“Just as planned.”

The news would spread through the town like wildfire. The remaining holdouts would crumble.

Lagareth let out a long, weary breath. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“The fewer people who know a secret, the better. That’s common sense.”

Moreover, Harold knew that the Knights’ reactions had to be genuine for the townspeople to believe the threat. Sid and Aileen weren't exactly known for their acting skills.

Regardless, everything was unfolding according to Harold’s design.

By breaking the opposition, Harold ensured the evacuation could continue while he prepared for the coming storm. The results were better than expected. In a small town, rumors were the fastest form of travel; within three days, reports indicated that almost everyone was preparing to leave.

Only a tiny minority remained. If necessary, the Knight Order and Frieri could move them by force.

They were so close. Just a little more time.

But just as Harold allowed himself to clench a hopeful fist, the news he had been dreading arrived.

Lyst entered Harold’s room, his voice as calm as ever.

“Scouting reports that the monsters have begun to move. At their current pace, they will reach the surface by tomorrow evening.”

“Trigger 'White Line.' Have the Frieri members coordinate the remaining evacuation.”

“Understood.”

Lyst bowed and departed. Harold picked up his two swords.

The evacuation wasn't finished. Hundreds of residents were still in Burston.

They had thirty hours left. Even with force, they wouldn't be able to get everyone to safety in time.

The curtain was rising on a desperate retreat—a battle where the lives of hundreds rested on Harold's shoulders.