Stigma Effect
Chapter 67

Proofreader: kuroneko_chan

Even if he knew the way out in advance, he wouldn’t be able to get out without being noticed. As they moved Baraha for his experiment, he ran out of the Alchemy Tower with a book full of prophecies he had written down and encountered an alchemist.

It wasn’t difficult for Baraha to stab the alchemist, as the alchemist was bewildered when he saw Baraha.

He took the alchemist’s robes and put them on to hide his identity. It was unpleasant as the blood splattered on his clothes wet his body. The hand holding the book trembled intermittently.

It wasn’t difficult for him to stab people, and the sensations were far worse than he thought.

Baraha, clad in black robes, reached the temple street, avoiding the guards and slave traders. There were many slave trades on the temple street. It took a long time to get to the Temple to avoid them.

He barely reached the Temple, but he still couldn’t relax. People related to slave trading were wandering around the main gate. The situation in the other passages was similar.

‘Should I have come on another day?’

He clicked his tongue and found a place to hide.

Perhaps he had the wrong day, and there was a carriage going into the Temple that looked like it had come from a slave shop.

At first glance, it looked like an ordinary carriage, but if looked closely, it was unusual. The carriage was covered with thick wooden boards so that the inside could not be seen. Opening the door was only possible by opening the lock from the outside.

It was common for carriages going far away to have that kind of security, but it was rare for a carriage moving within the Imperial Capital to have that kind of security.

‘It must have come to sell the children to be used as servants again.’

He frowned, thinking of the children who were lucky enough to have been sold to the Temple.

Baraha, who was grumbling, crossed the fence in search of a place where there were no guards. After he lightly climbed over the fence and entered the backyard of the Temple, he checked to see if the book he had brought was in place.

Killing the alchemist was unexpected. If it was found that the alchemist had been harmed, they would send him to the Guards immediately.

‘If I say that I can prophesy, the Temple will try to protect me.’

He was able to catch his breath only after confirming that the book was intact. Although blood was splattered all over the book, there was no difficulty in viewing the contents.

Baraha, who was walking around the back of the building looking for a priest who would listen to him, saw the children getting off the carriage and hid.

The slave trader who came out and the priest were talking. The slave trader said to the priest in a perplexed tone.

“This is the last. I have no more children to send. It’s not enough even though I bring all the kids we have collected for months here.”

Baraha, who was hiding, listened to their conversations.

“Aren’t we also helping with the handling?”

“Sending them to the Alchemist Tower? Do you have any children that you sent there?”

“Yes. But even to the Alchemist Tower is not enough….”

The conversation that followed made him laugh. Baraha let out a laugh and relaxed the hand that was holding the book.

When the fog that had been covering his eyes lifted, he was able to see reality with astonishing clarity.

Here and there. It was all in one group.

A feeling that he can meet something that he wanted? There was no such thing in the Temple.

For the first time, Baraha’s foresight went wrong.

That was also very big.

He had a cynical smile on his face.

“When the next group of children come in, I will send them to the Temple immediately.”

“Yes, yes. Thank you for your understanding. Priest.”

The slave traders backed away and disappeared over to where the children who got off the carriage was huddled.

Baraha sat down and flipped through the book.

There were prophecies about the future attack of monsters and the Saint who would save the Imperial Capital. The last chapter about the Saint was written just before escaping the Alchemy Tower.

‘As long as there is the Saint, the Imperial Capital can be safe from monster attacks.’

Even the alchemists hadn’t written it down yet.

Baraha crumpled the paper and looked at the letters. As he was staring blankly, he thought of that.

‘Do people living in the Imperial Capital need to know this?’

The sensation of stabbing someone was worse than Baraha had thought.

It was because he felt those feelings of intense liberation and freedom, at the collapsed alchemist. He felt relieved even though he thought he was a monster for feeling that.

He wanted to feel that relief again.

If people living in the Imperial Capital can’t find the Saint and die due to a monster attack, maybe he’ll feel that way again.

‘At that time, I think the relief will be greater than the horror.’

He leaned his head against the wall he was looking at and blinked blankly.

＊＊＊

“What are you? Oh, you can’t do that. Who are you?”

Even after the slave traders and priests had left, Baraha, who was sitting in the backyard idly, stiffened up at the sound next to him.

The sound that Baraha heard was that of a boy who had not gone through a period of puberty. He grabbed the dagger he had hidden, but he was discouraged by the young voice.

If he stabs an innocent child, there will be only disillusionment towards himself, not relief.

And this was the Temple. If the child screams when he sees Baraha holding the dagger, the knights guarding the Temple will come running to him.

As Baraha sighed and shook his head, the boy who called him spoke in a bewildered tone.

“Who are you? Ah…. I said it wrong…. I’m not used to it.”

There was a slapping sound as the boy was beating himself. Baraha covered his face with a robe and looked at the boy.

The blond boy looked at Baraha and flapped his lips. He had a paper and a pen in his hand. It caught his eye that on the paper in front of him had the words “Reflection” written at the top.

Is he an apprentice priest trying to become a priest?

“Did you sneak in?”

The boy tilted his head and asked. The boy who was touching his forehead with his hand holding the pen approached Baraha.

“Orphan?”

Baraha turned around, avoiding him.

“The orphanage is not here. This is where the apprentices of the Knights of Albraka live.”

“… Albraka?”

He remembered Albraka in the last prophecy and followed the boy’s words, and he smiled and nodded his head.

“Do you want me to guide you to the orphanage?”

“… pen.”

“Huh?”

“Give me the pen.”

As he was thinking about Albraka, he snatched the pen from the boy’s hand and opened the book when the boy asked a question.

“What the hell are you doing, no…. What are you doing?”

The boy who had lost his pen asked in bewilderment. Baraha, who was writing prophecies frantically, could not afford to answer his questions.

“What? What did you write so crazily?”

When Baraha stopped writing, the boy looked into the book with a curious face and frowned at the terrible handwriting.

“It’s a scribble. You’re making a weird scribble.”

“… Noisy.”

“I beg your pardon? Am I noisy?”

It was a letter that was hard for him to recognize. Baraha, who was reading the prophecy, struck the boy who was bothering him a little. The boy who complained louder made it difficult for him to concentrate.

After reading the text slowly, Baraha tore the page with the prophecy he had just written down. Then he threw the book and pen he was holding at the blond boy who looked at him and said,

“… you take it.”

“Why would I take this?”

The boy, who had an arrogant tone, spoke without hiding his sullen expression.

As he stood up, the robe covering the blood-splattered clothes fluttered. The boy shut his mouth when he saw the clothes he was wearing inside.

“… Have you been abused?”

“What?”

“If you come from bad circumstances, I can let you stay in Albraka for a few days.”

Seeing the bloodstains on Baraha’s clothes, the boy frowned and said. Seeing him extend his hand, Baraha hurriedly climbed up the temple wall.

“… I don’t need it.”

“You can stay here and go to the orphanage if there is a place….”

“Don’t need it.”

The boy sighed as he saw Baraha climb up the wall as swiftly as a cat.

The boy let out a short sigh and took off his coat and laid it on the floor.

“Okay, I won’t force you any more, so come down first. If you walk around like that, you’ll be caught by the guards and taken back? If you don’t want to go back, change into this.”

“… What kind of trick is this?”

“It’s not a trick.”

“Helio, where are you?”

“I have to go now, so do whatever you want. There is some money in my pocket, which should be enough for a few meals. Use it if you want. You don’t have to give it back.”

He heard someone raising their voice and looking for someone. The boy, who spoke awkwardly, heard the sound and ran out of the backyard of the Temple. Baraha looked around the quiet surroundings and then went back down.

As the boy said, the coat he left behind had money in it.

“A few meals… ?”

There were several gold coins he had never held in his hand. It was enough money to live three months alone, not just a few meals.

He seemed awkward at speaking respectfully, like he was the son of a noble family and was preparing to join Albraka.

Baraha changed into the clothes the boy had left behind and left the Temple.

He had just prophesied a destination, and he must be prepared to head there.

＊＊＊

A few days later, Baraha sneaked into a large carriage preparing for departure.

It was a carriage with the seal of a horse with its feet raised.

“Are you sure you have loaded all the items to be sent to the Mogris Estate?”

“Yes. I have loaded everything. You can leave right away.”

“Did you see it? The bodies of the children between the luggage….”

“Shh, watch your mouth… !”

“I’m so reluctant….”

“All we have to do is move the luggage according to the orders. It’s good to not care about the contents.”

The carriage loaded with all the items began to move. Baraha held the dagger and recalled the prophecy.