ㄴ "He’s saving people who would’ve died with that money, you idiot."
He wasn’t someone with extraordinary abilities, nor did he make any grand sacrifices. He was just another corrupt merchant lord of his era.
Born in a provincial territory, he bribed his way to Imperial citizenship and exploited laborers labeled as heretics to increase his mines’ productivity and cut labor costs. He seemed like a run-of-the-mill villain, yet he was posthumously honored as a hero and even ascended as a Constellation.
How could such a thing happen?
At first, it was all for business. McGuy sought to expand his operations, boost mining production, and slash labor costs by replacing his workers with heretics.
Heretics didn’t require wages, nor did they need good treatment.
This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēwebnovel.com.
But as McGuy worked alongside these outcasts, something about him began to change.
Even though he was in a secure position as an Imperial citizen and had no obligation to help them, he started risking his safety to assist the heretics.
At first, he faked the deaths of some laborers, smuggling them beyond the Empire’s borders.
Gradually, his efforts expanded.
He disguised women and children as adult male workers to sneak them to safety.
The title [Thunder King] was not because he wielded lightning powers but was earned posthumously, a name born of his quick thinking and resourcefulness.
A Constellation without extraordinary powers.
Yet, it was precisely because of his ordinariness that his deeds stood out even more.
For in his simple humanity, McGuy Zaborg accomplished what no hero of legend ever could.
***
“L-Lord Inquisitor! I can explain everything!”
Desperately trying to salvage the situation, McGuy Zaborg stepped forward.
Oscar could feel the fear emanating from him.
Without fully realizing it, Oscar reached out and firmly grabbed McGuy’s balding head.
“L-Lord Inquisitor!”
Oscar unknowingly activated one of the abilities granted to him as the High Inquisitor: Interrogation.
A forbidden art that allowed him to partially read the memories of those he had restrained.
He delved into McGuy’s memories and saw his past.
“Move it, you lazy fools! Do you think today’s quota will fill itself?”
The first image of McGuy he encountered was that of a ruthless merchant lord.
He forced heretics, dragged in against their will, to toil in the mines, exploiting them for all they were worth.
Thud.
“Hah. What now?”
However, something changed when one of the heretic miners stumbled and fell.
Instead of berating the worker further, McGuy gestured to his guards to help the fallen miner.
“L-Lord Merchant...”
“Doesn’t his body feel like a furnace? If you’re sick, say so and rest! Why the hell would you work yourself to death?”
Perhaps he felt a sense of kinship, recalling his own harsh upbringing in the provinces.
From that moment, McGuy began to change.
“You can’t stay here. You’re too frail.”
“P-Please spare me, Lord Merchant!”
“Who said anything about killing you? I’ve prepared a carriage for tonight.”
“What...?”
“Once you’re across the border, the Inquisitors won’t be able to follow you. Don’t worry. I’ve already bribed the border guards. No one will come after you.”
At first, he only evacuated those who were ill.
The Empire’s policy dictated that heretics deemed useless were to be executed immediately, so he had no choice but to send them outside Imperial borders to save them.
McGuy continued bribing officials and falsifying records, marking heretics as dead in the mines.
“Why can’t you leave the Empire? Others are doing fine out there. ...What? You have a wife and kids? ...Hah, damn it.”
Heretics were often branded as such along with their families, forcing them into separation.
He couldn’t just stand by and let that happen.
“Oh, esteemed Inquisitors! How have you been?”
“Ah, Lord Merchant, long time no see!”
“This is just a small token of my appreciation for you, Lord Executor.”
McGuy expanded his network further, manipulating records to smuggle out women and children disguised as adult male workers.
He secretly protected the heretics he saved, sending them out of the Empire one by one.
“Don’t worry. I’ll bring them all out. Just wait a little longer.”
“All the children are here, right? ...What? You want to repay me? Forget it. Get out of here now. If you stay behind, who will look after the others? ...Yeah, yeah, just go, you fool.”
What began as a way to save money and earn more profits turned into something entirely different.
Before long, McGuy was spending his own personal wealth to rescue heretics.
Flash.
Oscar returned from McGuy’s memories.
“L-Lord Inquisitor?”
McGuy looked up at him nervously, trembling with uncertainty.
“...Ugh.”
Oscar’s head throbbed painfully.
The man he had thought of as a villain turned out to be one of the most human figures in this world.
“It’s... fine.”
Oscar took a step back.
McGuy, unaware that Oscar had seen all his memories, continued to shake in fear.
“For now, I’ll leave. I’ll return another time.”
Oscar hastily left the scene.
“Welcome back, Lord Inquisitor!”
The waiting Inquisitors saluted as Oscar approached the carriage.
“We’re heading back.”
“Sir? What about the inspection...?”
“I have something to confirm. We’re returning immediately.”
“Understood!”
Back in his office at the Inquisition Headquarters, Oscar pored over various records.
He compared the death tolls of heretics from different mines.
The discrepancy was clear.
McGuy had faked the deaths of heretics and smuggled them out of the Empire.
He had done it to save them from unjust executions.
The reason McGuy hadn’t been suspected until now was simple.
He was known as a loyal Imperial citizen, and the bribes he distributed worked in his favor.
Most importantly, no one cared if heretics died.
On the contrary, the Empire would praise him as a devout follower of the Celestial Beidos.
This was the kind of country they lived in.
And yet, McGuy had risked everything to save them.
McGuy wasn’t just a small-time merchant like Oscar.
No, he was... a hero.
What makes a hero?
Is it only someone who fights enemies head-on?
Or is it someone who, despite their lowly position, risks everything to save others?
“And what about me...”
Oscar sighed and took a pipe from his desk drawer, exhaling smoke as he pondered.
He had looked down on the weak, thinking himself no more than a simple guard captain.
Yet, this supposedly greedy merchant was doing things far nobler than anything he could imagine.
To compare himself to McGuy was an insult to the man.
It was a bitter night.
And that night, a capture order came down.
The targets were newly discovered heretics.
The list of names marked for immediate execution landed on Oscar’s desk.
As he scanned the list, his expression hardened.
Heretic - McGuy Zaborg
His name was on the list.
***
“That... Inquisitor.”
“Yes, Constellation.”
“I lived a full life and died peacefully, you know? I was never accused of being a heretic by the Empire.”
“I’m aware. That part is simply... a bit of embellishment for dramatic effect and narrative closure.”
“Well, it’s certainly a magnificent story, and I have no complaints... but isn’t it a lie? I didn’t die in such a heroic way.”
“......”
Even the [Great Chief] wanted his story to be more glorified than it was.
Why are they all so honest?
You’d think beings of divine stature would care more about their own grandeur.
“Don’t worry. We’ve clearly stated that the game’s events might differ from real history. That should be enough. And besides, the changes make the story more entertaining, which means players will enjoy it more, don’t you think?”
“W-Well, is that so?”
“It’s absolutely so.”
A hero who lived comfortably and died peacefully after the fall of the Beidos Empire?
There’s no excitement, no emotion, no impact.
If it ended like that, players wouldn’t feel compelled to keep playing, would they?
A hero who rises from humble beginnings and dies a glorious, tragic death—that’s the true delicacy.
Don’t worry, Constellation.
Everyone’s going to love you.