MPBAGS Chapter 111

"Antenor and Polus, get ready to switch shifts."

The kicking finally stopped at the voice calling the two men. Antenor collapsed on the ground, gasping while clutching his kicked stomach. Right above him, he could hear the sound of laughter as someone put an arm around another's shoulder.

"Polus. What are you going to do if you kill all your comrades? Haven't you been getting worse lately?"

"Don't talk nonsense. Comrades, my ass. He's just a dirty bastard who grovels for money. This is why you can't entrust important duties to lowly scum. Ptui."

Spit was spat onto Antenor's face. Antenor couldn't wipe the filthy spit with his precious and cherished knight's uniform, so he rubbed his face against the dirt ground. The sticky spit made sand stick to his cheek.

"I... told you. I've never taken bribes or anything like that."

"The prison became a luxurious inn during your guard duty, and you want to play dumb? You have no shame."

Polus sneered while cracking his thick neck left and right.

Less than a day after Evangeline Rohanson was imprisoned, the bleak prison interior had been transformed into a cozy space. Someone had clearly taken bribes from Rohanson and turned a blind eye to the furniture being brought in. Antenor was suspected as the culprit.

However, Antenor had absolutely never taken bribes or helped bring in furniture. Polus seemed ready to kick Antenor again in anger. It was their superior who stopped the violence that was about to begin once more.

"What are you doing! Hurry up and go switch shifts!"

Polus moved his feet reluctantly, and at the urging words, Antenor also gritted his teeth and got up from the dirt ground.

Before the wounds Antenor received yesterday had even healed, new wounds had crowded on top of them. His leg seemed to have been kicked wrong, as his joints ached every time he stepped on the ground, forcing him to limp. When he dragged his broken body down to the basement, Argenti, who had been waiting for his replacement, grinned and patted Antenor's shoulder.

"It'll be tough, but thanks for your hard work. Ah, I made a bit of a mess on the floor - could you clean it up, Antenor? If it's too much to do alone, you can call Rohanson's people."

The knights giggled as if they had heard some great joke. Antenor gritted his teeth as he watched Argenti's back leisurely climbing the stairs.

"Looks like Argenti made another mess. You clean it up."

Argenti seemed to have dumped all the food given for Evangeline Rohanson's meal on the floor. And cleaning it up was Antenor's job. Polus acted as if the food waste dirtying the floor somehow represented Argenti's integrity.

Antenor had always been an outcast, but since Argenti began openly showing hostility, the physical violence had become much worse. Everyone had sided with Argenti. Argenti was Sir Muzeta's distant nephew, monopolized his superior's favor, and came from a formidable family background.

And what about Antenor himself? His parents were tenant farmers in the countryside, and his harsh personality earned him treatment as a thorn in everyone's side rather than affection.

A commoner knight who reeked of poverty. A tactless fool whose only trait was being harsh. A traitor who sold his honor for material greed. The knight order's lackey who never refused any menial task. These were the words used to describe Antenor.

That's why he respected Sir Gabriel.

Even though they belonged to different units, Gabriel was someone who had risen to the position of knight commander single-handedly, despite being an orphan with no family background. Sir Gabriel was truly magnificent. Even dirty scum like Argenti admired Sir Gabriel. Antenor had projected himself onto Sir Gabriel, imagining that if he endured in this dirty knight order, someday he would be rewarded.

However, Sir Gabriel had fallen. Could someone who abandoned God and chose carnal desire still dare to be called a holy knight? Could someone who abandoned their beliefs still be called a knight?

Gabriel, who had lost both religion and knighthood, was no longer worthy of the title "Sir" - just a worthless fool. And the being who had reduced Sir Gabriel to a mere simpleton was right before his eyes.

Someone had called her a witch who bewitched the holy knight, while others spoke of her as an utterly wicked demon who assassinated the Crown Prince.

The sight of her leaning leisurely against the sofa, turning the pages of a book, seemed so relaxed that it felt like Antenor himself, cleaning up food waste, was the one imprisoned rather than Evangeline Rohanson.

"Snore... snore..."

Polus, who had supposedly spent the night gambling, had boasted about properly monitoring Antenor but began dozing off in his chair, contrary to his bravado.

Except for Polus's snoring, the basement was very quiet. It would have remained so after a long silence, if only Evangeline Rohanson hadn't suddenly spoken to him.

"How did you get hurt like that?"

A deceiving voice whispered to Antenor. How did I get hurt? Who do you think caused my injuries! Wasn't it because Evangeline Rohanson had arbitrarily brought in furniture, and that guilt was directed toward innocent Antenor?

"Because of you."

After angrily venting at Evangeline, Antenor thought he might have spoken too loudly in his excitement, so he slyly glanced toward Polus to check on him. And his eyes met with Polus, whose eyes were wide open. His wicked face was wrinkled in a gleeful smile, lost in euphoria. Come to think of it, when had the snoring stopped?

"What are you two secretly talking about? Look at this. You really were in cahoots after all."

Polus kicked Antenor's head to the floor and trampled on it. Then he grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to the front of the iron bars. Since he couldn't lay hands on Evangeline directly, he was venting his anger this way.

"Lady Rohanson. He's being beaten because of you, so please watch carefully."

Through Antenor's blurred vision, Evangeline appeared. Despite the underground being unbearably dark, relying only on faint candlelight, she alone appeared distinctly bright. Their eyes met - those red pupils. It was a chilling color just to look at. When the smile disappeared, the raw nature beneath the surface revealed itself. A witch who bewitched Sir Gabriel? Evangeline's true nature was not something to be belittled with such words.

Evangeline existed to be worshipped, not to be diminished by talk of bewitchment. When a faint displeasure crossed her indifferent face, Antenor felt like strangling himself in apology.

Antenor became more afraid of Evangeline's two eyes than of Polus, who was currently inflicting violence upon him.

Such an overwhelming and strange being was crammed into that delicate body, sitting obediently within the iron bars. Did the others really think such iron bars could constrain Evangeline Rohanson?

That's why Argenti could spill food and mock her, why Polus could relax his guard and fall asleep. Foolishly, hadn't Antenor himself thought the same way until just now, getting angry about it?

In truth, the iron bars held no binding power over Evangeline Rohanson whatsoever.

"Kuk... Wh-what is this...!"

Polus's body began to slowly rise into the air. As if being strangled by invisible hands, he clutched at his throat in agony. Polus tried to free himself from whatever was choking him, but finding nothing to grasp, he could only claw at his own neck.

Evangeline tilted her head as she watched Polus suffer. Her hair flowed gracefully to the side following her movement.

"Shouldn't courtesy start with you, Sir?"

She was responding to Polus's earlier words about "showing courtesy" when he had slammed Antenor's head to the floor. No, perhaps he was paying the price for his insolence toward Evangeline.

Polus shed tears. His neck bones seemed ready to break under the force. His windpipe was being crushed, causing him to cough helplessly and gasp for breath. Antenor didn't miss a single moment of Polus's suffering.

Soon, the sound of something breaking was heard. Polus's body went limp and was dropped to the floor. One person's breathing disappeared. With the harsh breathing cut off, the surroundings suddenly became quiet.

"Is he dead...?"

He's dead! The feeling of satisfaction was brief before Antenor's face turned pale. Since Evangeline was inside the prison, wouldn't the crime of killing Polus once again fall on Antenor's shoulders? Like Argenti and Polus, the other knights didn't consider the imprisoned Evangeline threatening.

However, Evangeline Rohanson said that Polus would rise again. How could a dead person rise again!

But Polus truly did rise from his position as she had said. Due to his broken neck bones, he couldn't support the weight of his head and his neck kept folding, but even so, he had risen alive.

"He won't be able to use violence against you again."

Certainly that would be true. What had risen again was not the former Polus. He was not a living person, but merely a puppet that moved according to Evangeline Rohanson's words.

When Evangeline commanded him to leave, Polus grabbed his folded head with both hands to straighten it and left the underground. When he let go midway, his head swayed and shook unsteadily.

"Shall I help you?"

Evangeline asked, her red eyes gleaming. A pale hand slowly extended through the iron bars. The beautiful, slender hand seemed to beckon Antenor to take hold, as if to say "come quickly." The merciless grip that had choked Polus's throat felt like a hand of salvation to Antenor.

"I'll make sure such creatures can't torment you anymore, Sir."

Antenor realized how the witch had seduced Sir Gabriel. The monster was dizzyingly beautiful enough to bewitch everyone, speaking only the most pleasant words.

Could she really save Antenor from the violence of the other knights? Despite being imprisoned as a suspect in the Crown Prince's assassination, Evangeline Rohanson spoke as if she could accomplish anything.

"Really, really... will you make sure those bastards can't touch me?"

It wasn't like what Antenor had wanted when he first put on the knight's uniform - to be respected and hold superiority like Sir Gabriel. But what Evangeline Rohanson had just shown was also using overwhelming power to subdue opponents and ultimately achieve superiority. With trembling hands, Antenor grasped the hand that Evangeline extended.

"Wh... what should I do?"

When Antenor asked, Evangeline told him the guidelines for what he should do going forward.

"I'm anxious because I can't reach Sir Gabriel."

If Evangeline wanted it, he would become a messenger bird to carry word.

"I'd like to know some news from outside."

"Yes. I'll tell you anything I know."

Pleased with Antenor's answer, Evangeline smiled brightly. That smile was so beautiful, but knowing that what lay within it could destroy a person with a single glance only increased the sense of discord.

"What is your name?"

"Antenor. Antenor Nine."

"Good, Sir Ante. It's time for the shift change, isn't it? Let's meet again next time."

Antenor left the underground prison hearing the kind farewell that promised future meetings. When he came outside, Polus, whose neck had been folded, was acting as usual as if nothing had happened. What had just occurred in the underground prison felt like a dream.

Perhaps it really had been a dream? When Polus approached, he cowered in fear. Polus put his arm around Antenor's shoulders and pressed down on him as he usually did. But unlike his usual tight grip that left bruises, today his grasp was very light.

"Hey. Ante, you're late."

Hearing the words that followed, Antenor relaxed and felt relieved. It hadn't been a dream. The usual Polus didn't call Antenor by such an affectionate nickname. "Sir Ante." "Ante." That was how Evangeline Rohanson addressed Antenor.

Just as the other knights had cursed Antenor, Antenor had truly become someone in league with Evangeline.

Then a servant came running, dripping with sweat, carrying a message. The superior who received and read it had his face grow increasingly grave.

"Knight formation!"

At the superior's shout, the other knights who had been giggling, and Polus too, straightened their postures.

"His Majesty has commanded us to capture the criminal who assassinated His Highness the Crown Prince."

At those words, several knights looked down toward the underground prison. However, the person mentioned in the following words was entirely different.

"Tenebrae Reverdi, who assassinated His Highness the Crown Prince, is on the run. Leave only the minimum personnel to guard the prison, and the rest will be deployed to search for Princess Tenebrae. Prepare yourselves."

Antenor straightened his sword with his limping leg. A fellow knight who looked upon this with displeasure raised an objection.

"Commander. That Antenor fellow will only be a hindrance to the pursuit with that leg of his."

"Right. Antenor, you'd be better off guarding the prison."

It was actually tantamount to depriving Antenor of an opportunity to distinguish himself, but instead of following the chain of command, Antenor meekly agreed to the order. Antenor also preferred to remain at the prison, as it would be much easier to relay messages to Lady Rohanson. As soon as his colleagues disappeared, he would need to go down to the underground immediately to deliver the message.