dmims Chapter 455 The Mire Below Rank
Chapter 455 The Mire Below Rank
Chapter 457 The Mire Below Rank
Rumors in the capital always seem to grow like mold during the rainy season, quietly changing form in the shadows.
The court rumor about the king's death has now spread like wildfire, transforming into a strange nursery rhyme that echoes eerily through the streets: "The axe fell, the crown was lost, the head disappeared among the roses. The evil dragon flew away, leaving only an empty neck to peek and peek—"
The children clapped and sang, their clear voices carrying a naive yet cruel disregard for horror. The adults listened silently, a chill running down their spines, yet no one stepped forward to stop them. Some truths are always safer spoken through nursery rhymes than spoken by themselves.
The death of a king should, in theory, be a cataclysmic event. However, this unified kingdom, which is held together by many ancient elements, has never had a sense of urgency that "a country cannot be without a king for a day."
Everyone tacitly reached an agreement, acquiescing to the appointment of the most powerful Earl of Black Moon, Leclerc, as regent, temporarily handling state affairs.
Everything would have to wait until more nobles and high-ranking officials, scattered throughout the country and holding other powers, slowly gathered in the capital like migrating camels, attended the funeral with dignity, and reached some kind of consensus, even if only superficially, on the incomprehensible beheading case, before they could begin to discuss the selection of the next king.
After all, if someone were hastily chosen, and happened to be the very person who beheaded the late king, the situation would be far too awkward—not out of moral condemnation, but purely out of procedural embarrassment.
However, during this brief lull in power, the printmakers in the capital and the craftsmen at the official mint had already quietly begun their work.
They cleaned the machines, adjusted the molds, and repeatedly sketched new designs under the lamp, preparing for the work to come. Since His Majesty Hugo had been summoned by his ancestors, no matter how undignified his exit was, the fate of those gold coins and copperplate engravings that were forcibly promoted by the king and engraved with his self-righteous profile was already sealed.
Existing inventory cannot be discarded, but the increased production lines will most likely have to be shut down.
Nobles no longer needed to demonstrate their loyalty by purchasing portraits of the king, since the return on investment in a portrait of a deceased king was far less than that of investing in a potential successor.
Ordinary people are more practical; they instinctively prefer older banknotes with more traditional designs and a more familiar feel—at least those don't have a face that has just been proven to bring bad luck.
Everything was turning around calmly and methodically, as if what had died was not a king, but merely an outdated trademark.
At this moment when the power structure of the royal city was quietly being reshaped, the three Yueju, who had just been released from prison, looked at the sunlight they had only missed for a day and felt a sense of déjà vu.
"Right now, we have three main paths to choose from," the magician said, counting on his fingers.
"First, continue searching for Big Beard; second, cooperate with the Earl in investigating the crime scene in the palace; third, we'll go find the head that Hugo lost ourselves."
According to the "parting words" left by the Earl of Leclerc, although the travelers were temporarily released due to insufficient evidence, they needed to thoroughly investigate the case to prove their innocence if they wanted to remain free.
If the three cannot provide a reasonable explanation for the king's beheading, then even if the count cannot bring them back to prison, they will not be allowed to set foot in the capital again.
"Hmm—tracing down the people spreading the rumors is probably the safest course of action."
Faced with the three fingers held up by the blueberry, the thief cautiously analyzed—
"The nursery rhyme that has recently appeared in the capital is obviously the same as the previous 'possessed by an evil dragon'. The person who spread it is most likely still in the capital, and even if they have escaped, they won't have gone too far. We can do what we did at the Black Crocodile Tavern and find the source of the rumor, and then find the whereabouts of Big Beard. Even if we don't find him, at least we can show the Earl the most basic sincerity."
"Is this Wanlong's backup plan? Don't be so conservative," the mage said dismissively. "I was hoping to make a fortune from this incident and buy a [Explosion Magic] skill book, a specialty of the capital."
"Blueberry, that magic can't be used in the labyrinth, right? Isn't that just a waste of money?"
"Speaking of which," the magician abruptly changed the subject, "Lian Wu, we've come all this way to the capital. Are you really willing to lose a lot of reputation just because of this title that's been forced upon you—'suspected regicide'? Hugo is here too, so why don't we take the classic detective route?"
"It's a pity that the great detective is dead."
The thief said coldly, standing with his arms crossed with a look of disapproval, his voice lowered slightly, "You've played Wanlong's mystery scenarios before. Every time, it's always a long and complicated process, spending most of the day searching for evidence and piecing together clues. It takes at least two or three days to finish. Instead of doing that, it's much more efficient to just wander around the city, take on missions, and find out how the case ends."
Lingju, however, seemed less than agreeable, turning to the last member of the team: "Cattleya, what do you think?"
"You can use the [Inspiration] skill to find the head; it saves time and effort, and the rewards are high."
The monk combed his long hair and succinctly expressed his stance.
This is worse than going down the detective route—Lian Wu's face immediately scrunched up like a steel plate that had been hammered by an old construction craftsman.
This time, however, we absolutely cannot place all our hopes on the dice roll. Because if we fail to give Leclerc an explanation and he is truly convicted of murdering the king, his character card might be destroyed.
"Well, it seems there's only one way."
Cranberry clapped her hands, as if she had expected this situation. "Let's split up."
Perhaps because he had just criticized the host, the task of investigating rumors in the capital was more troublesome than Lian Wu had imagined.
Fortunately, Lian Wu possessed a variety of strange and wonderful thieving skills. By completing a series of tedious little tasks such as cat's cradle, throwing stones, and buying snacks, he finally gained the brief friendship and trust of a street corner kid king.
After the thief's ears were filled with the children's rambling and illogical narration, he finally mingled with the children in the capital and figured out where the rumors came from.
Sure enough, the mysterious bearded man reappeared.
This time, however, he changed his appearance. He was no longer the drunkard who talked nonsense in the tavern, but became an inconspicuous small vendor. He set up a simple stall on the street and sold wooden flutes that would go out of tune when blown, clay whistles of questionable color, and toothy dolls made from scraps that looked sad.
His promotional tactic was simple: any child who could sing the nursery rhyme "The axe falls, the crown is lost" clearly and without stumbling in front of him would receive a small piece of candy wrapped in rough colored paper, so hard it could break teeth.
With such a simple method, nursery rhymes began to spread like wildfire among children, like a plague, as candy was distributed.
Following the directions the children pointed out, Lian Wu finally found the place where Big Beard had rented the cart on the edge of the capital, in a courtyard full of tire tracks and mud.
The owner of the cart was an old craftsman with his hands covered in sawdust, who was cursing and swearing at the cart that had been returned.
According to his description, the cart had been borrowed long ago, but it wasn't until this morning that it was found quietly parked back in front of the shop. The person who borrowed the cart didn't even say hello, let alone pay any extra rental fee.
"Damn it, I shouldn't have lent it to him!" The car owner cursed, pounding the wheel rim he was repairing with a hammer, making a dull thud. "He just dumped the car here and drove off! If I hadn't gotten up early, someone else would have taken it!"
Lian Wu didn't ask any more questions. At the craftsman's suggestion, he paid a small "information fee" and then turned to leave.
He deduced that the other party must have returned the car late at night, and since this person was so eager to get rid of this conspicuous vehicle, their next step must have been to try to leave the capital as soon as possible.
So the thieves decisively invoked the name of Count Leclerc of the Black Moon and approached the guards on the moat.
These guards were on high alert because of the king's assassination attempt. They had been on duty in shifts without sleep for two days, their eyes were bloodshot, and their tempers were like mischievous bombs that could explode at any moment.
Fortunately, one of the additional guards had seen Lian Wu talking with the Earl in the palace, which allowed him to barely suppress his anger and share the intelligence with him in a muffled voice: since yesterday, the exit checks from the capital have become almost obsessive. All caravans are not allowed to leave the city before His Majesty the King's wish for Arceus to accept his soul and before his burial.
Soldiers patrolled the city walls day and night with their wolfhounds, but no signs of breaching were found. Even after registering all residents who had left the city for special reasons, no one was found who looked suspicious and matched Lian Wu's description.
Lian Wu specifically asked if any toy merchants or candy vendors had left the country, which immediately drew a tired laugh from the guards.
"Come on, buddy."
A guy who looked like a captain patted Lian Wu on the shoulder. "How could we let someone who's practically screaming 'suspicious' just go out like that? Right now, there's plenty of clean well water in the city, and we don't need firewood for heating. The only ones who can leave this capital, besides those winged Pokémon, are the coachmen who carry the garbage that can't be piled up in the city."
"Garbage" is a word that Lian Wu has captured.
Half an hour later, accompanied, or rather under the watchful eye of a guard with an unfriendly expression, he arrived at the official garbage dump located on the outer edge of the capital, right next to a tributary of the moat.
Several groups of wild, smelly mud and tattered bags clearly regarded this place as paradise. They slowly crawled around, devouring the waste, and occasionally pushed and shoved each other and launched "mud attacks" in order to compete for a particularly "delicious" piece of scrap.
After several rounds of not-so-intense but extremely unpleasant "turn-based" extermination battles, Lian Wu was able to thoroughly search deep within the garbage mountain.
Then, he found a corner occupied by cats and pickpockets. A huge sack had been ripped open by their sharp claws, and its contents were scattered all over the ground, becoming their most interesting toy at that moment.
A wooden flute, a clay whistle, a crudely made rocking horse, a warped iron hoop, a top with peeling paint, a rag doll with crooked stitches, and a small, harmless wooden sword. These treasures in the eyes of children are now discarded here like real trash.
It was the very goods that the "bearded merchant" was selling!