The Seven-Year-Old Village Chief in Exile - Chapter 34

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 34
In the time I’d been away, Ian had apparently entertained our guest so thoroughly that Molle Rebus’s face had aged a full decade in a single day.
The chief priest of Saikurp was half-dazed, gnawing at his fingernails while his eyes darted nervously about—a sight that was, frankly, pathetic.
“Just asking, but….”
Verity turned to Ian.
“Did you torture him?”
“No. What would be the point?”
Ian shook his head firmly, his jaw tight. The rare sharpness in his tone told me he found Molle Rebus deeply distasteful.
‘I can’t blame him for that.’
I studied Molle Rebus with mild contempt.
A petty man corroded by inferiority, base enough to exile an innocent person to the frontier merely because his feelings were hurt.
‘Yet his pride still clings to him.’
Molle Rebus’s envy of Ian had only deepened; his gaze toward us was thick with malice.
‘He won’t crack easily.’
This was going to be difficult.
I swung my legs gently, my feet dangling above the ground.
“I’d rather not torture him, but….”
I’d meant to murmur it to myself, but the words came out louder than intended.
Ian’s brow furrowed, and Verity—as if he’d expected this—remained impassive.
“So you’ve been considering it.”
“We can’t afford to be choosy about our methods right now.”
“A seven-year-old shouldn’t be thinking like that.”
Ian couldn’t help himself and scolded me. I simply laughed it off.
‘I know that.’
But the twenty-five-year-old Chae Habin knows all too well how absurd and vicious reality can be.
‘People like us, backed into a corner, can never afford pride when facing our enemies. We do whatever we can. If we don’t….’
We suffer the consequences.
I’ve learned it firsthand.
‘But Ian and the villagers don’t want that for themselves.’
Having endured injustice yet chosen to bear it with grace, those people’s nature was something I, as their chief, could not ignore.
And if I did something so unjust, they would despise me for it.
‘More than that—they’d grieve.’
So what could I do?
“Let’s settle this the right way.”
I made my request to our guests with genuine sincerity.
“Torture, or whatever—that was just empty bluffing. A seven-year-old can’t do such things anyway. And I hate torture.”
I’d learned in school how horrific and cruel torture truly is.
“Please, would you cooperate with me? I’m making considerable compromises and sacrifices right now. I’m desperately trying to live by the morality and humanitarianism that were instilled in me. Can you not push me past my limit?”
……
……
I made my request with perfect courtesy, yet the guests’ response was lukewarm at best.
‘So a seven-year-old’s polite plea goes in one ear and out the other.’
I let out a sharp sigh, as if I’d expected nothing less.
‘If words could solve this, we wouldn’t be in this situation.’
I lifted my head to continue, and—
‘Hm?’
Ian and Verity were looking at me with an odd expression.
“What?”
“Hebennia, you….”
“I said, what?”
“….Never mind.”
Ian’s hand patted my head gently. I frowned, but I didn’t pull away from his touch.
In fact, I tilted my neck upward slightly, seeking more of his caress. It felt oddly pleasant.
“Miss, then what do you propose we do?”
Verity spoke with exaggerated cheerfulness, as if deliberately trying to lighten the heavy air.
‘….Now that you mention it, the atmosphere is rather thick.’
Was it the basement’s poor ventilation?
‘I should bring in an air purifier.’
While thinking such things, I laid out the plan I’d already prepared.
“Like I said, I’m not going to torture him.”
Even so, I’d always scored top marks in Korean history exams. I loved the subject, and along with that love came lessons about the tragedies of those who suffered torture.
‘Inhumane methods mean abandoning your own humanity. And evil always comes back around.’
So the method I thought of was “search.”
‘I’ll use the wisdom of my ancestors. Of course, I’m not actually Korean.’
In the past, they’d possessed something that rivaled Google—a search engine of remarkable ingenuity.
“These are exactly it!”
With a flourish and a sound, I introduced the search engines I’d devised.
“First, there’s Zigle!”
Just holding a red-hot arrow in your hand lets you hear whatever answers you desire.
Though accuracy leaves something to be desired.
“Second, there’s Whip Petty!”
The crisp, rhythmic snapping sounds serve as a backdrop, letting you focus on gathering information. There’s no time to be bored.
The downside is your arms get sore.
“And finally, the third one is Jurin—”
“You’re just planning to torture them, aren’t you!”
Ian gasped sharply, cutting me off mid-sentence.
I, who’d been about to introduce the final search engine, Jurinae, let my lips sag.
This was the one I’d wanted to present most.
“Wow, that’s even crueler than a demon could manage…”
Verity shook his head with a grimace of disgust.
“I’m not actually going to do it. It’s just that holding this alone is effective enough…”
“Be honest. It’s that book, isn’t it? The Thick Book you got from the Bleached Demon? Ever since you read it, you’ve been way too rough!”
“Oh my, Ian. This temper is just a specialty of the Clavius family…”
Verity quickly cut off Ian’s nagging and addressed our guests behind bars.
“Did you hear? Our young mistress has been holding back so much for your sake. And she’s already like this at seven years old.”
“Listen to this demon talk.”
“So take a few days to think it over. Oh, and there’s a spell preventing suicide, so rest assured.”
That concluded the guest reception.
“Sigh, I wanted to pull off something a bit more impressive as Village Chief…”
Back in the Chief’s Office, I swallowed my disappointment.
“Ian, I just talked big like that. I never actually intended to torture them, okay? It was just bluffing for the sake of intimidation…”
“I know.”
Ian, who’d been gazing out the window at the full view of the Village, spoke.
“I know. You weren’t serious.”
“Then that’s good. You’re not angry, are you?”
“Not angry. You acting up isn’t exactly something new.”
* * *
“You’re not angry, are you?”
“Not angry.”
You acting up isn’t exactly something new.
Ian said this and turned around.
As if he’d been subtly gauging her mood all along, Hebennia’s expression relaxed into something serene the moment she caught Ian’s bitter smile.
Then she grinned and took his hand.
Ian squeezed back without hesitation, putting strength into their joined hands.
‘There’s so much I want to say…’
But not now, Ian thought, pressing his grip even tighter.
“Ow, ow, ow! That hurts!”
“This is how you keep her from acting up.”
“Anyone listening would think I’m a reckless seven-year-old.”
“You are a reckless seven-year-old.”
“Anyway, that wraps up today’s guest reception.”
Verity said this as he shut the door connecting to the Basement.
Hebennia nodded.
“Extracting information from them won’t be easy right now anyway. So let’s leave them be. Neglect seems like it might work rather well.”
“Should we ask Elba to make some Truth Serum instead?”
“There are no side effects?”
“We’d have to ask. But given the situation, we’re not really in a position to be picky.”
Ian suggested it with an unpleasant smile, essentially writing off any side effects as just payment for their sins.
“Ooh, you look kind of like a villain now. That’s pretty cool.”
“Then I’ll request it from Elba…”
“I’ll go ask them myself. While I’m at it, I need to tell Libi something too. And I should stop by to see Modi as well.”
Hebennia rattled off her list of tasks before climbing into the Pink Speedy Car parked in front of the Village Hall and disappearing down the road in a blur.
“Please observe the speed limit!”
Verity called out, waving his hand.
The smile gradually faded from the face of the demon butler who had been watching with satisfaction.
Verity, standing beside him, wore the same expression.
“Just now, Hebennia…….”
“Her presence was overwhelming, wasn’t it?”
“…….”
“Though she seemed entirely unaware of it herself.”
“…….”
Ian’s jaw remained clenched, unyielding.
He recalled the Hebennia he had just witnessed and felt a cold bead of sweat roll down his temple.
“From now on, would you please not make me angry?”
Those words—what power they held.
Hebennia had spoken them exactly as she always did, nothing more.
That innocent face, that artless manner of coaxing and persuasion.
Yet Ian had nearly fallen to his knees on the spot and begged forgiveness.
He had wanted nothing more than to buckle his rigid legs at once, to bow his head low, and to plead with her to conceal her displeasure.
‘Molle Rebus and the High Priest didn’t refuse Hebennia’s proposal. They were simply afraid—frozen in fear.’
Suddenly, a strange familiarity washed over Ian.
‘When have I experienced something like this before?’
It was the moment just before a memory began to surface.
“From now on, would you please not make me angry.”
Ian flinched and glanced sideways.
Verity, who had been softly repeating Hebennia’s words, smiled with his eyes.
“Do you know whose manner of speech that is?”
“I don’t. But it feels as though I’ve heard it before…….”
“It’s the House of Clavius’s characteristic phrase.”
Ian’s eyes widened.
‘That’s right…….’
Back when he served as an Imperial Palace knight.
On a certain day when he had entered the palace with Clavius.
While everyone else knelt with bowed heads, only he and Clavius had stood upright, speaking face to face.
‘I still can’t recall what we discussed, but I’m certain I heard something similar!’
Don’t make me angry.
‘No, it had a slightly different tone.’
As Ian strained to recover that day’s memory, Verity’s next words were like a key turning in a lock.
“To be precise, it’s the habit of the entire House of Clavius. Don’t anger me. Don’t move me. Truly a fitting phrase for the arrogant Clavius, wouldn’t you say?”
“…….”
While all other memories lay murky as clouded water, one particular phrase broke through like a salmon leaping upstream against a fierce current.
“Why do you look that way, Ian?”
“Back then…….”
Ian murmured as though lost in a dream.
“He said he was angry.”
“Who?”
“Clavius said…….”
“…….”
“To me…….”
That he was angry.
“More so than wasting my noble footsteps in such a squalid place, I find it vexing to see you in a place like this.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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