Chapter 57
Chapter 57
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 57
>Chapter Title: Stalker vs. Stalker (12)
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*
It goes without saying, but Ivan was a rational man.
This meant he wasn't the kind of reckless, violent person who would throw an axe just because a long-range projection spell was spouting nonsense.
It was a shame. Ivan was confident he could have brought his axe down on Aleksandr's head five more times before he'd even finished a single breath.
“…Is that a question that requires my answer?”
So, Ivan decided to engage in conversation.
If he played along with that madman, who knew? He might just obediently confess where he was and what he was doing.
No, that was unlikely.
At the very least, Ivan… as an agent of Elizaveta, had a duty to remember this conversation, continue it, and report back.
Duty.
Yes, that was all. He would focus only on that.
Anger could wait. Mourning for the departed could also wait for later.
After he had offered the Crown Prince's severed head before the tombstones in the Counter-Intelligence Command's private cemetery.
So, for now, he would think only of his duty.
Ivan relaxed his grip on the axe and waited for the Crown Prince to speak.
“Was the question strange? Did you not meet the Hero in person?”
“What about him?”
“Was the Hero… human?”
“More so than anyone.”
Ivan answered dryly, his eyes cold.
At his words, Aleksandr smiled brightly.
“Yes, that's right. More human than anyone. A being who was supremely human. He appeared in a dark world, amidst a brutal war, on the brink of our species' annihilation, saved humanity, and then departed.”
He was a lantern shining in the darkest night.
Having seen the Hero up close, Ivan knew. The Hero had no religious faith.
However, the Hero could clearly use divine spells. Magic and swordsmanship, too. All at a master's level.
He was like the sum total of all human potential. Even his character.
“His existence was like proof of the Lord's presence. Who would dare deny it? For the Lord so loved us that He sent down His son into the dark world, into the harsh night.”
Ivan came from a world without gods, or at least one where God was silent. Therefore, he was a man deeply skeptical of the existence of any deity.
But this world was different. Gods were real, and they made their presence known to their followers through miracles.
From that perspective, the Hero's existence was in itself a miracle. A creation personally crafted to save a world hurtling toward its end.
Though his soul was from the same Earth, his powerful body and talents could well be considered a divine blessing.
Therefore, all the people of this world willingly offered their praise to the Hero. The Lord loved us and sent His proxy.
Ivan couldn't deny it, but he felt a certain bitterness.
The Hero had called himself 'merely a representative, someone anyone could have become, who stepped forward on behalf of all others'.
Contrary to the world's adoration, he had wanted to remain purely an 'individual'.
“If, as the old men of the Church say, we were made in the image of the Lord, and if the Lord loves us, then answer me. Why has our world fallen into such ruin? Why must we live lives of hunger, envy, struggle, and plunder?”
Setting aside the name of the species, 'human', their way of life and its cycles were no different from those of beasts.
This was a question that had already been settled on Earth. Although Ivan hadn't majored in theology and held no particular religious beliefs back home, answering it wouldn't have been difficult.
But this world, to reiterate, had a personal god who revealed his existence directly.
Ivan did not answer Aleksandr's question. In truth, Aleksandr hadn't been expecting an answer.
“Do religions exist even in a world without gods?”
“…!”
“They must. The essential component of religion is not God, but man. The object of faith is unimportant. It is the existence of humans willing to obey that forms the foundation of religion.”
So this bastard knew.
He even knew that I was a transmigrator.
But that... that was something not even the Hero's Party, not even Elizaveta, knew.
As Ivan's brow twitched, Aleksandr chuckled.
“So I thought to myself. Since it is true that the Lord loves humanity, the reason humanity is not good must be because our 'Lord' is not good. I searched through ancient texts, rummaging through old records the Church had banned as... so-called 'heretical', and I realized, Ivan Petrovich.”
“So, did you throw a tantrum because you found out your god wasn't actually good?”
“Haha, no. I envied you. All of 'you'! How beautiful must religion be in a world without gods. How pure must be the faith created by those who have never directly faced the reality of a god! In a world where such faith is commonplace, how beautiful is the fact that humans perform good deeds. Is that not proof that human nature is inherently good?”
“…It really makes me want to show you my world.”
If possible, I'd like to drop him in the Middle East.
Ivan could all too easily picture Islamic extremists burning children and Christian fundamentalists throwing bombs into the homes of ethnic minorities.
It was a trivial intellectual exercise not even worth discussing. The kind of adolescent-level worry that would only shock kids who had spent their lives comfortably within the palace walls.
Ivan shook his head. To think my subordinates died for... for such nonsense.
“The old dogs of the Church say that the 'Lord' symbolizes what is called 'light'. That the Lord drives out the darkness and brings light to humanity. Then, what is darkness? What is it that even the great Lord must live submerged in darkness for half of every day?”
That's a natural phenomenon caused by the planet's rotation, kid.
Ivan didn't bother to say it. He waited.
Hoping for the mistake a typical self-absorbed villain would make, revealing his identity and location.
“If light has divinity, isn't it self-evident that night does as well? What if the demons in the scriptures were fragments of some past beings? And... what if they were related to you, the 'dragged-in ones'?”
“What…?”
“We do not know the Lord's name. A singular being has no need for a personal name. But what if, once upon a time, God was also called by a name? What if there was a time when giants possessing divinity walked the earth? What if we now call the victor of that era's struggle the 'Lord', having forgotten the myths, religions, and legends of a distant past?”
-The right to turn the final page of truth, the right to gaze upon the hands on this game board.
Veolgrin's words came back to him. The gods on the game board... giants of an old religion...? This is.
‘It was a Constellation story…!’
Ivan sighed.
If fragments of some past beings were related to the dragged-in ones, the transmigrators.
Ah, isn't it obvious? Dammit.
The cause of the transmigration must be ancient evil gods, or something of that sort. After all, who but a god could traverse between worlds?
The Saintess had said something similar. That transmigrators could be easily found in the Church's old records.
Ivan shook his complicated thoughts away.
Now he knew the cause. The cause of these damn thirty years... Some went back, some disappeared, and some died. Enrique had said so.
If so, that meant whoever turned the final page of their story could go back.
Ivan didn't know his own story, but he was still relieved. He could go back. That was enough.
“Enough.”
“…What?”
“I understand.”
Ivan looked at Aleksandr and raised his axe.
A long-range astral projection couldn't be struck directly. But it was possible to attack the device generating the magic.
The fact that conversation, or interaction, with the projection was possible meant this spell was dangerous. It had to be completely neutralized before any analysis could be attempted.
If this got into the Counter-Intelligence Command, there was a risk of their secrets being leaked.
“How typical. Seeking wisdom from an ancient evil god, spouting nonsense about realizing the world's truth, establishing an evil organization, and scheming from the shadows… I get it now.”
“Hey, I was…”
“I believe I told you to stop.”
Since Ivan was a rational man, he had no intention, or time, to entertain any more nonsense.
He had listened to the long-winded bullshit and gotten the information he needed, and he had even concluded that he likely wouldn't be able to find this guy's location at this point in the episode's progression.
Perhaps this 'hidden room easter egg' was a kind of character development arc where the protagonist would stumble upon it and become corrupted.
He couldn't imagine what kind of idiot would be corrupted by this story, but well, this barbaric, pre-modern world was overflowing with such edgelords, which was probably why this Crown Prince fellow had managed to create an 'organization'.
Strengthening a protagonist through the theme of corruption was a very common trope. It wasn't for nothing that Venom was so popular. It was a universal truth that making things black made them look cooler.
But Ivan was not an angsty middle schooler. He felt no attraction to things that were dark, bizarre, and twisted. What he found attractive were a quiet director's office, a plush sofa, and kimchi jjigae.
“I have only one thing to say to you.”
“…What is it?”
“Don't you die.”
Ivan glared straight at Aleksandr and growled.
“You'd better stay alive until I come for you.”
“Ivan Petrovich. You are nothing but a puppet. The hands holding the strings…!”
-Crash!!
Ivan smashed the small magical device emitting the projection magic and dusted off his hands.
Such a cliché story to the very end.
Ivan tucked the axe into his belt, turned around, and left.
*
-Aaaaargh!!
>-Just kill me!! Aaaaargh!!
>-Gurgle… gack….
“Whoa… What on… Hmm. What on earth… is happening…?”
Esidis swallowed hard and looked at Isabelle and Oskar.
They were pale and tense.
Screams, screams, and more screams.
The screams echoed throughout the entire building, along with the roar of furniture being broken and smashed.
And then, soon.
-Thud, thud.
The sound of heavy footsteps.
“Gulp….”
Other than the sound of swallowing dryly, the three of them couldn't make a sound.
They stared at the door with tense eyes.
A moment passed, and the footsteps returned. They came right up to the door, and a hand grabbed the doorknob.
-Click.
The sound of the locked doorknob turning a few times, and then.
-CRASH!!
An axe blade split the door apart.
A long silhouette was cast in the dim interior, between the faint lights.
A terrible stench of blood wafted in.
“S-Save me….”
“Stay still.”
The shadow walked steadily toward Esidis. Eek! Esidis wrapped her arms around herself and flinched.
However, *clank*. With a short noise, her hands were suddenly free. He had split the iron chain binding her hands right down the middle.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes, yes… Ah, no. My legs… they've given out.”
“Wait.”
The man turned and left. Soon, *clank, clank*. With the sound of splitting metal, the other two were also freed from their chains.
Isabelle's excited voice echoed in the tense Esidis's ear.
“Ah, it's you, Mister?! Oh my gosh! Mister! You came to save me!”
“Hmph.”
“How did you know I was here… Gasp, were... were you watching me?”
Isabelle's 'Mister'. It was the stalker!
Esidis stared at Isabelle with wide, horrified eyes. Was it okay to ask a stalker if he had been stalking you?
Especially an axe-wielding stalker who had just come in covered in blood?
“No, I followed Mord.”
The moment Esidis heard those words, she crumbled.
Ah, so it was me. Right, I had someone stalking me too.
The bottomless desire of this audacious fiend terrified her….
“Get on my back.”
“No, ah, ugh, I'm fine….”
“We're wasting time.”
Ivan effortlessly lifted the trembling Esidis and placed her on his back.
He turned back the way he came and walked on without a word.
*
Blood, flesh, pieces of dead bodies.
Half-destroyed outer walls, broken windows, smashed and splintered doors.
The hallway continued like that. The once-white corridor they had been dragged through was now so stained that it was hard to find a spot that wasn't red.
It was terrifying.
Esidis's body trembled. She was so afraid of this man, and of the things he was capable of.
“It's all right.”
“Hic…!”
“It's all right, Esidis. It's all over now.”
Huh.
Esidis, who had been trembling with her eyes squeezed shut, felt a hand gently patting her back and cautiously opened her eyes.
Short-cropped hair, an exposed, sturdy nape, and below it, a broad, muscular back.
A calm voice, speaking steadily.
Huh…?
-It's all right, Esidis. It's all over now.
This phrase. She had heard it before.
This voice, too, now that she thought about it... she had heard it... before?
Esidis stared blankly at the back of Ivan's head for a long time.
She closed her eyes tightly, trying to recall the scene when he had rescued her just moments ago.
Then she tried to remember his face from when they met on campus not long ago.
She mentally covered his beard with her hand, and one by one, she reviewed the people from a distant past she had vaguely imagined….
“Uh... uhhh...? U-U-U-Un... Uncle...?!!”
“Hmm?”
“Uncle... Ivan...??”
“Hmph.”
“Ugh… ah… uh… huh? Why…?”
After stammering for a long while with her overloaded brain, Esidis slumped over and fainted.
Ivan supported Esidis's limp body and nodded silently.
Well, it was understandable she'd be tired after being betrayed by a huscarl she trusted and held captive all day.
It was possible to faint when the tension broke. Having seen many soldiers in that state, Ivan was not flustered.
“Hmph.”
He silently readjusted Esidis on his back and continued walking.
Since he ran an orphanage, he had plenty of experience handling tired children and taking them home.
*
“…Why.”
“What's wrong, Miss Isabelle?”
“Why… What about me…? I was kidnapped first, I knew him first….”
Isabelle was biting her nails, glaring at Esidis, who was on Ivan's back.
The woman she had thought was her friend was having a pleasant little chat on Ivan's back.
Then she suddenly wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and entrusted her body to him.
Pressing her rather 'prominent' body parts against Ivan's back, so tightly. So very tightly. It was an eyesore!
Asking to be carried because her legs gave out, whispering in his ear as they strolled along…!!
“I was first. She's just copying me.”
“Um, Miss Isabelle. That. It's, uh, a little scary.”
“Traitor….”
*Crunch.* Blood seeped from the tip of Isabelle's thumb.
Ep10. Stalker vs. Stalker