Chapter 43: Ludwig the Delusion Catalyst

Dion’s timely intervention allowed Ludwig to escape the assassination attempt by the skin of his teeth...and watch as his assailants received a good thrashing...and were rounded up...and strung in a line with rope...and brought all the way back to the inn with them.

“S-Sir, what is the meaning of this? Who are these people?” asked the bewildered inn owner upon their arrival.

“Well then, Ludwig, I’ll leave the talking to you,” said Dion before casually strolling off.

Ludwig shook his head in amused resignation before explaining their situation to the owner. Meanwhile, the assassins, their hands tied behind their backs, were led to a room in the inn where a contingent of the Princess Guard were already crowded together in the limited space. The Guard were an assorted bunch, some rough and vicious while others stoic and steadfast. To the captives’ credit, none of them showed the slightest hint of intimidation when they entered the room despite the many fierce glares and growls that were their welcome.

“Right, then,” Dion said cheerfully. “We’ve got plenty of questions, so how about you lot start talking, hm?”

He drew his sword, sending a chill through the room. The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees. Sweat appeared on some of the captives’ brows as they recalled their recent experience with his expert handling of the weapon.

“Captain Dion, are you sure it’s a good idea to keep all of them together in here?” asked one of the guards.

The tacit meaning, of course, was that interrogation generally worked better on victims when they were alone. Dion only shrugged at the suggestion.

“I’m not your Captain anymore, but anyway, it’s fine. We’ll keep them here like this. After all, being told your buddies are suffering is one thing, but watching them scream and die is another. I think the latter leaves a stronger impression. Don’t you?”

The captives rose in protest.

“Y-You think that kind of threat is gonna work on us?”

“Yeah, wasn’t your princess supposed to be merciful and stuff? I heard she hates torture!”

They were answered not by Dion but Ludwig, who stepped into the room.

“Such threats are indeed inappropriate. Your objections are justified. Like you said, Her Highness is very merciful. Her benevolence knows no bounds,” he said with a placid smile. “Let me tell you something that we’ve never made public. Back when Her Highness was in the Kingdom of Remno dealing with the uprising, there was a group of people who were working against her. They were spies from a foreign kingdom, and one of them went so far as to threaten Her Highness with a sword. This was, of course, a terrible crime, one worthy of the severest punishment.”

The captives shared puzzled glances, confused by the sudden introduction of a seemingly irrelevant topic. Undeterred, Ludwig continued.

“All of them were eventually captured alive. So, here’s my question for you. How do you think they’re doing now?”

One of the captives snorted.

“What kind of question is that? They’re dead, obviously. Either your sadistic buddy there lopped off their heads, or they were tortured to death in a dungeon somewhere.”

Ludwig quietly shook his head.

“No. They’re all alive. Alive and well, under the guardianship of Lady Rafina. Every day, they listen to her sermons, transcribe the Holy Book, and participate in charitable activities. They are...quite exemplary.”

There was a long silence, during which the captives stared agape. Then, they burst into mocking laughter.

“Are you serious? Is that what they got for trying to run her through? Damn, what a joke! Your princess sure is a softie!”

The laughter faded, however, when the captives realized that their leader had suddenly gone silent. The humor had drained from his face, along with all color.

“Hey, the hell? Why so quiet? What’s the deal?”

The leader ignored his mates’ questions and looked directly at Ludwig.

“These...people. Were they really spies? Not just regular soldiers?”

“They were expert spies. Seasoned men who received the strictest training. Professionals who could kill and be killed without batting an eye, so long as it served their missions. They had, of course, been thoroughly instructed in enduring torture as well.”

The man made no response, but his behavior had begun to unsettle the others.

“H-Hey, what the hell is the problem? What’s this guy talking about?”

“Tell me...” the man finally said, “how do you make a bunch of top-notch spies just...decide to go clean? These are trained killers we’re talking about. They kill men like cattle. And now you’re telling me they’re listening to lectures everyday? Writing out holy verses? Doing charity?” He met their eyes. “They cracked. What in damnation did it take for that to happen?”

The resulting silence was deafening. Slowly, the implications began to dawn on the others. What had happened became obvious. These spies had stirred up serious mayhem and threatened the life of Tearmoon royalty. They’d committed an offense of the highest order. Of course they wouldn’t be let off scot-free. In other words...they did receive some sort of punishment. And afterward, they’d turned into devout religious followers. Whatever happened to them, it had made them seek God. With a desperate passion. So what was this punishment that was so effective as to make saints of scoundrels?

“Y-You mean...they were so traumatized that listening to sermons and writing out the Holy Book everyday...is the only way they can cope?”

When do people yearn for the divine? When experiencing unbearable terror, of course. Just like how they’d all prayed for their lives when facing off against Dion earlier. Whatever awaited them, then, was presumably something that would keep them yearning, day after day...

Except Ludwig shook his head.

“No, that’s not it. They’re not doing so out of fear.”

A longer silence ensued. The statement wasn’t reassuring in the least. Fear, at least, made sense. The fear of physical pain, mental distress, the endless void of death... These were terrible things but still within the realm of comprehension. Being imaginable made them bearable. But if it hadn’t been fear that drove the spies’ bewildering metamorphosis...then what had? The cause, in that case, was entirely unknown.

It seemed an impossible feat. How could these spies, who’d spent their lives doing the darkest of work, suddenly turn devoutly religious? They must be essentially different people. Whatever happened to them, it would have had to remake them, twisting their personalities and beliefs on a fundamental level. Whereas a known fear had limits, unknown fears did not. Unfettered by the constraints of reality, the would-be assassins fell into a brooding silence as their imaginations filled their minds with all sorts of cosmic and unearthly horrors.

Ludwig proceeded to smile at them, the expression almost gentle.

“That’s why...you’ll all be fine. You won’t be tortured. You won’t be put to death. There will be none of that. You’ll simply become the same as them,” he said as he rested a comforting hand on a captive’s shoulder.

“Gyaaah!”

The man recoiled immediately and shrank away. Ludwig’s words forced them to think, to wonder in spite of themselves, what transcendental horrors too mind-bending to be encapsulated by the language of man they were about to suffer.

“Come now. There’s no need to be so scared. Her Highness is most benevolent.”

At this point, nobody was taking Ludwig at his word anymore.

“She won’t subject you to violence. There’s no need for that. You’ll open your hearts to her willingly.”

Their minds filled with visions of clawing open their own chests in a mad frenzy, competing with each other to be the first to offer the princess their still-beating heart. Terrified gasps filled the room.

“Ah, where are my manners? You must be thirsty from the walk. I’ll have some ale brought in.”

They heard that with an implied “enjoy it while you still have the faculties to do so.”

The staging was exceedingly effective as well, with Dion standing nearby inducing despair through his aura of menace. As the captives gazed upon him, imagining what kind of nightmarish entity they were about to confront in his master, Her Imperial Highness, Princess Mia Luna Tearmoon...

“I-It was the King of Ganudos. H-He’s the one who ordered us...”

They cracked.