Chapter 47: 47 Episode 46 The Lizard and My Old Enemy

The moment the guard's eyes widened and it seemed to everyone that nothing would ever come in time.

A moment. Yes, it was a chance encounter. Blue light and silver light, mixed together. Strangely enough, not a single sound was made.

No one said a word, nothing made a sound. Everyone gasped and was made to witness the scene.

The saber that was supposed to have been swung down to bite the girl's right arm was flicked away by something, and her body bent and danced in the air. And then, just like that, she made a distracted sound and fell to the ground.

It appeared so abruptly. It appeared so suddenly, with no context, with no warning, with the wind and the dust in its wake.

"Hey, girl. It's about time you stopped risking your life every time you play.

Lugis said with a shrug, wearing green clothes and carrying the girl Cereal by his side.

Cereal's mouth slackened as if in relief for a moment, and then it turned into one of frustration. He wondered why he had been saved again. How could I have been saved again?

But then again, how did this man appear? Cereal's eyes wavered, appeasing his still restless heart.

No matter how hard he tries, he is too far away for anyone to reach in time. His right arm was now at the point where the saber would inevitably part him from his body. And yet this man is helping himself, perhaps by flicking the saber away with the knife in his hand. It was like sorcery or magic.

In the blink of an eye, this man appeared, clad in dust and cutting through the sky!

"Who are you? Do you understand the folly you are committing?

The man was the only one among the guards who was taken aback by Lugis' unbelievably human appearance. I'm not sure what to make of that.

"You're still as unfriendly as ever, Mister Lizard. All you did was jump a saber that was mysteriously about to fall on the sister of an acquaintance. Didn't you?

What?

I frowned slightly, thinking that I had just met a nasty person.

I don't know his name, but the guard with the reptilian glare in his eyes. He looks familiar. I believe he was the captain of the guard when I visited Galuamaria in the past.

Selfish and exclusive. His nickname was "Lizard". His nickname was "Lizard." It seems that he would cut off any subordinate for his own selfish prosperity. Of course, there is no doubt that the way he looks at you has a part to play in giving you the nickname.

"...... The girl is one of the thieves. It is the duty of our guards to punish the guilty. If you interfere, you'll have to come where you belong.

The lizard's eyes narrowed, and he did not try to hide his displeasure from his words. It's not nice to be stared at with that malevolent look in your eyes.

The lizard continued to speak in that tone. The thief stole goods from the merchants who visited Galuamaria, and then he escaped to a poorhouse where he could easily escape. She tells me that she, Cereal, aided and abetted them.

"Well, you've been hard at work. I see, you've been hard at work, even trying to chop off the arm of an unarmed girl.

"Hmm, if I could, I'd cut off your useless spinning tongue too. If you understand, then hand over the girl.

Or are you one of the thieves?" His eyes grew more intense. His hand went to the saber at his waist.

He moved his eyes slowly, so as not to alarm his opponent, and took a quick look around.

There were five guards, including the lizard. However, the people in the favelas were not very reliable.

But of course, it wouldn't do to have Fearalert rushing in. There is no point in telling them to hide.

Then, if I were to pull out my knife, I would have to face five enemies for every one of you.

That's not a good idea. That would be reckless. Only a truly powerful person would be capable of such recklessness, and if you can at least set a surprise attack or a trap, but to go head-to-head with a large number of people by yourself is like leaving your sanity in your mother's belly.

And that's exactly what people like Kalia are doing.

If this were within the walls, I might consider it. But I wonder, this is a poorhouse. You know, sir, this is no Garouamalia.

The lizard's eyebrows shot up and the body of the guard behind him tensed slightly.

If a head-on confrontation is not a good choice, there is only the lubrication of the tongue. This lizard guy must not be stupid for some reason. As I recall, he used to be. Then, if he thinks he's not reasonable, he'll back off, even if it's a little awkward, which it should be.

You know what ...... means, don't you, sir?

Yes, of course. In the poorhouse, the law and the authority of your guards will not work. So why are you cracking down on them as you should?　There's no reason.

Yes, the walled city of Garou Amalia is only legally governed within its walls.

The people who live in the poorhouses outside the walls are not citizens of the walled city, nor are they even vagrants. They are just rogues camping out, or so they say.

That may seem inconvenient at first glance, but it is more convenient for Galuamaria. If we recognize the poor as a nation, we have to recognize them as part of the citizenry in some way.

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That's a problem. There is no way that a being that we have looked down upon as not even a person can be allowed to become a member of the public. Even if the upper echelons approve, public sentiment will not allow it.

Besides, if such a thing were to happen, the guilds that had been treating the residents of the favelas as if they were livestock, offering them unfairly low prices for manual labor and prostitution, would also complain.

In the trading city of Galuamaria, there is no need to have so many cheap manual laborers that the country is overflowing with them. The more of them there are, the more the economy will grow and the country will prosper.

The more of them there are, the better the economy and the country prospers. Galuamaria was a very distorted city-state.

So, I had let my guard down, thinking that the lizards would back off like before if I poked them with that distortion.

"You're right to crack down. The reason for this is because you are an inferior people.

The words made me roll my eyes. The words of the man in front of you are still not clear to you. Thoughts run through your brain, one step behind the facts.

I felt something solid embedded in my back muscles and joints.

You have a bit of a tongue, did you think that would convince me?　The very thought of it is stupidity. Who do you think governs you poor people, the inferior ones? None other than us, the citizens.

As he continued, the lizard's lips became smoother and more animated, as if he was addressing not only me, but all the people around him.

"You inferiors have no need for law or logic, you molds that cling to the eaves of our glorious Galuamaria.

These words, uttered in a matter-of-fact manner, did not hide his coldness and contempt.

Perhaps that's what he really meant. The unmistakable heart of the lizard, the man who called him that. Words without any concealment. In a way, it was the purest words I've ever heard. And so they are the words of many a citizen of Galuamaria.

He stroked his chin and pondered for a moment. In my heart, I feel a heat like molten lead. My skin is hot, and my eyes are almost melting.

Well, it seems that this guy has a deep-seated disdain for me and the inhabitants of the poorhouse. He thinks he can't do anything. He's underestimated us.

That's right. That's the way it should be. Because once, on a previous trip. You looked like you were persuaded by the same logic.

Yeah, I think it was Fialaat who said that.

I know. I understand. It's a different situation, a different position, a different time than the last time I traveled. But one thing is for sure. This guy underestimated me.

My boiling guts were forming words at will and pushing them out of my throat.

"No, you're not. Why don't you just say what you mean? I'm punishing anyone, anywhere, on the spot, at my own discretion, to get ahead, for my own merit, for any reason that sounds like a criminal.

The lizard's eyes glare at me with a more reptilian look.

It's just contempt and rage reflected in his eyes. I'm furious, almost resentful, because I've been wronged by the very thing I'm supposed to be stomping on.

He stomps down on the fear that rises from his heels and reaches for the knives at his waist.

The grips on the two knives are well adjusted. Not bad. He pushes hard on Cereal's back, who was behind him, to get him out of the crowd.

Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm in the same boat as that woman. I'm just a rat without reason or thought.

The demon of emotion, which had devoured reason, was distorting his face ugly as he complained in his mind. Something thick and sticky lodged in my guts. That feeling is strangely comforting.

It's been a while. There's something inside me. I know there's a foreign substance. And the more I feel it, the more it satisfies me.

The guards must have seen my posture and realized that words were no longer an answer. My hand is on my saber, waiting for the lizard's command.

A moment of silence. In the next moment, it was easy to imagine me covered in blood.

But that didn't mean I could back down. No, you can't. I'm no different than I was before. I don't want to live like that, selling my dignity, choosing to suffocate my emotions with the skin of reason.

Just as I, the lizard, the guards, and the denizens of the favela realized that a moment away, red paint would splatter. A single voice broke the silence.

I don't think I've ever condoned such arbitrariness.

The earlobe that received the voice twitched. I felt my eyes bare. I could feel my organs, which had been in the heat of the moment, rapidly cooling down.

Don't be ridiculous, that's what my heart was telling me. You're not supposed to be here. You told me you were with your uncle in the kingdom of Garryth at the time of the Gospel War, didn't you?

But you can't hear it wrong. There's no way you could mistake it.

"Now take your hands off your sabers and explain.

There was no mistaking his voice, no mistaking the way he strode through the crowd.

Held Stanley. My old enemy himself.

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