Crownless Reincarnation: New World? Nah I'd win-Chapter 30: Sudden Departure [1]

His eyes drifted across a shaded section near the edge of the map—'Old Quarry - abandoned?'—he wrote in the margin.

'This might come in use.'

A lot of good things have been abandoned in the place because of the fear of the witch.

Akamir was more than happy to take them over.

"What you are doing is against the law," Nayomi said, floating beside him.

"Oh. Fuck them." He replied, making another marking. "I can't be bothered by them."

'They are going to kill themselves sooner or later.'

According to what Nayomi had told him, the kingdom will be in chaos soon.

With Lucien being more desperate every passing day for the throne, he would soon poison King Aldirc.

After that will be the start of the political war between different dukes and nobles.

Yet...

It won't be Inara or Lucien who would win the war.

...It would be someone entirely.

'...Can't believe it will be my fiancée who would win in all this.'

And his neck would be cut off the very next day she became a queen.

Akamir rubbed his neck as he put his pen down.

"Maybe I should send her flowers," he muttered dryly. "You know, before she sends my head back in a box."

"Do whatever you want," Nayomi grumbled, looking outside the window.

"You should be more worried about the church," she said after a moment. "They were the ones who gained the most from the war."

"....Yeah." Akamir mumbled, letting out a sigh.

Akamir stood, brushing off dust from his trousers.

"You coming with me?" he asked, adjusting his cloak.

Nayomi didn't answer at first, she just began to float close to him.

Walking out of the room, Akamir began to move towards the church.

Some people gave him side glances, but none tried to touch him.

'They look much more lively.'

Akamir thought as he looked at them selling and buying stuff.

A good thing about the town was its low population.

They don't have much to worry about.

'Except the monster of course.'

It took Akamir only a few minutes to reach the place without any problem.

The guard didn't stop him from entering as it wasn't his first time.

The stale scent of incense clung to the air as he walked past the benches.

From a side door near the back, soft footsteps approached.

Elore appeared, wearing his robes loosely, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

His face full of warmth matched the real Elore.

"Did something happen?" he asked.

"I was deciding what color of flowers to send my killer fiancée," Akamir replied dryly.

Elore didn't laugh.

Without a word, he turned and led Akamir down the narrow corridor behind the altar.

Elore took out a key from his pocket and twisted it into the lock.

The door groaned open, revealing a spiral staircase descending into the dark.

Nayomi hovered silently behind them as they entered the basement.

At the bottom, a thick iron door awaited.

Elore drew a key from his sleeve and unlocked it with a click.

Inside were six men and women—filthy, bruised, bound in rusted chains.

They looked up as the door opened, eyes red with fury and madness.

"I've done what you asked," the priest said, bowing towards Akamir. "They're murderers, rapists, traitors. No one will miss them."

"You piece of shit!" one of them snarled at Elore. "Since when did priests begin to bow in front of others instead of the goddess!"

Another spat toward Akamir's boots. "Coward! Unlock me and I will tell you what a real man is!"

"Your mothers must be proud," Akamir said casually, folding his hands.

A third man laughed, bitter and broken. "Go ahead! Do whatever twisted thing you brought us here for! Won't beg, bastard!"

Akamir said nothing.

Elore walked forward and kicked him square in the face.

The man let out a sharp cry as blood sprayed from his nose and he crumpled to the ground.

The others fell silent.

"You talk too much," Elore said coolly, glaring at them. "You were offered the grace of death through purpose. Be grateful to my master."

"Let's get this over with," Akamir mumbled, rubbing his neck.

Above his head, a crimson crown slowly emerged over his head, filling the place in an eerie glow.

A portal formed beside Akamir, and slowly creatures began to crawl out of it.

"Hickk!!"

The prisoners quickly moved back, trying to run away.

But....

Their chained-up bodies made it impossible to do so.

Akamir pointed forward, his voice echoed in the chaos. "Eat them."

The creatures lunged towards them.

---

Within minutes, the basement reeked of blood and distorted flesh.

The six now stood again, but changed.

Their wounds were gone.

Their filth had vanished.

They wore clean clothes identical to what they once had, but the flesh beneath was not theirs.

One by one, they dropped to one knee before Akamir.

"Master," they spoke in perfect unison.

Their voices no longer snarling or venomous, just eerily obedient.

Nayomi hovered back, arms crossed, watching with a blank expression.

Akamir stepped forward and dropped a heavy leather pouch to the ground.

"Two hundred gold," he said simply.

"Each of you will travel north, through the forest path. There's a big town called Vesseran, right on the edge of the Lythanis Kingdom."

He paused, letting the name settle. One of the Mimickers nodded slowly, memorizing it.

"Settle down. Buy property, start an import-export business. Food, tools, dried herbs, rare wood, whatever looks profitable. You'll be the face. Blend in. Make yourself indispensable."

"And if anyone resists?" asked the tallest of the six, his tone soft, almost polite.

"Don't kill unless absolutely necessary. Act human," Akamir said, then glanced at Elore. "We already have enough monsters."

Elore bowed his head slightly, unoffended.

Akamir turned back to the Mimickers.

"Leave by nightfall. Take the hidden route through the southern bend of the forest."

The Mimickers rose, each picking up a pouch of coins.

"....."

Akamir quietly looked at them as a realization dawned upon him.

'I can really take away the identity of anyone in this world.'

It was something that, in all honesty, terrified him.

Taking away the lives of others and planting someone, and no one will be aware of it....

'If word gets out, then I will become everyone's enemy.'

The only thing that made Akamir sure he won't drown in this power was their weakness.

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'They can't mimic the power and are vulnerable against holy things.'

The only thing they take is the faces, not the ability and strength.

...Well, not everyone.

The Seven Sins can perfectly copy anything.

"You're merchants now," Akamir added. "Don't forget it."

"Yes, Master," they intoned again.

One of them shifted his face subtly—twisting the bones, softening his jawline—and in a moment, he looked like a tired middle-aged merchant with a scar over his brow.

Even though the face was the same, he looked entirely different.

"Shall we take on new names?" he asked.

Akamir frowned. "Whatever sells better."

With Elore's guidance, the group turned, filing out of the basement cloaked in borrowed flesh.

Akamir let out a sigh as he walked out of the basement as well.

There wasn't anyone to stop him as he exited the church.

"Hmm?"

Just as he walked towards his house, something caught his eye.

It was a carriage emblazoned with a family crest.

...His family crest.

"Young master." Zia quickly ran towards him as soon as she noticed.

Akamir frowned. "What's happening?"

"It's the summon from the Duke."

A sudden voice made Akamir look towards the carriage.

It was the head knight Gorgon of the Vyavan family.

"Why?" Akamir asked, looking at him. "I was given a mont—."

"Princess Inara," Gorgon interrupted, his voice firm. "She is getting engaged."