Upheaval. (2)
......Two young men and two children raced through the tunnel. In the echo of their pounding footsteps, they heard the voices of their parents.
"We'll hold them off here. Run—and don't let yourselves get caught."
That was why their legs pumped desperately. Not because they knew what capture would mean, but because they knew who they'd left behind.
"......Ah!"
Light seeped in from far ahead. The tunnel's exit was near.
"We're good. Kids, now we just......"
They froze mid-stride, hearts hammering.
The tunnel mouth loomed before them. A single figure stood there.
He appeared to be reading a book, but his eyes lifted at their approach, fixing on them with unerring focus.
In the darkness, blue eyes gleamed coldly, sharp as a blade's edge.
"......!"
The moment they saw his face, they couldn't even step back. The very notion of flight evaporated.
Deculein von Grahan Yukline.
Heir to an ancient line of unyielding destroyers, the demon who had hurled tens of thousands of Altiegue into the Rohalak camps.
That monster stood before them.
"......"
He stared them down. No words or threats were needed.
The two children soiled themselves; tears welled in the young men's eyes.
"......Hmph."
Deculein glanced calmly past them into the tunnel's depths. Then he asked,
"Are you the last?"
"......"
No one could answer. Even that simple question sealed their throats.
"......I......"
In the bone-chilling tension, a woman in her early twenties spoke up. Her trembling lips formed a pitiful plea.
"Just me. The children are too young. So please, just......"
"Do not overvalue yourself. You are but one individual."
Deculein cut her off coldly, tucking the book into his coat. Death's chill wind seemed to sweep in. At least, that's how it felt to the four Altiegue.
"However, if you crave sacrifice, shall we wager?"
He produced a coin.
Ting—!
Flicked from his fingers, it spun high before landing in his palm.
"Heads or tails. Dare you try?"
Whatever his eccentric whim, life and death rested in his hands. Protesting was unthinkable.
The woman nodded frantically.
"Y-yes. I will."
"Heads, you all die. Tails, you go free."
It sounded too suspicious to be true. The coin itself might be rigged. But raising such doubts was impossible.
"......Yes."
Deculein revealed the hidden face.
Heads.
Hweeeeh—
A deflating wail escaped like air from a punctured balloon. He sat back in his chair and opened his book.
"......"
No further reaction.
Did that mean they were free?
They shuffled forward hesitantly. Deculein did nothing to stop them.
Gulp—
Still tense, they emerged from the tunnel and scanned their surroundings, turning west.
But then.
"East."
Deculein murmured from his book.
"Go east."
"......Yes."
They trusted him again, pushing through dense underbrush toward the dawn. No destination in mind.
Just......May the gods watch over us......
......After the Altiegue departed.
In the silent tunnel, Deculein lifted his gaze from the book to the coin in his hand.
Info
：A special coin acquired from the Item Catalog.
：Distinguishes a character's alignment.
Category
：Special ⊃ Miscellaneous
Special Effect
：In a 'heads or tails' wager, reveals the character's alignment. Shows heads to Good alignments, tails to Evil.
[Midas' Hand: Level 3]
An item from the catalog—a coin that sorts good from evil.
Even among Altiegue, there must be evildoers and Altar zealots. I would not hesitate to kill such......
Tatata—! Tatatata—!
Footsteps of three or four echoed from afar. I listened while reading, awaiting the next group.
* * *
Late that night, I received word the operation was over. Returning to the battlefield, I found hordes of prisoners gathered on the barren plain.
The Imperial Guard who'd tipped me off about the tunnel hurried over.
"Professor. What of the tunnel?"
"Killed about twenty."
"......Ooh! As expected!"
I surveyed the Altiegue captives. Roughly three thousand, many indistinguishable by appearance alone.
"Can you sort them?"
"Of course. Lord Betan's blood magic allows some identification. Though it requires quite a bit of flesh......"
Indeed, the prisoners bore odd wounds. Far too brutal for widespread use.
Still, better than nothing.
"Greetings~ Professor!"
A mage saluted me.
Blue hair tied back in a ponytail. I knew the name.
'Gurken'
Like me, he wielded steel.
"But do we really need to keep these vermin alive? Let me handle it."
Kiririk— Kiririk—
Steel shards resonated at his words. Literal fragments.
Too small for chunks, they would infiltrate the body, inflicting maximum agony. Contemplating his intent made me question the man's psyche.
"Unnecessary."
I blocked his steel with Telekinesis. Gurken faltered at the sudden mana interference.
"Khum......?"
He grimaced like one desperate for the privy, trying to reactivate his spell. My Telekinesis held firm.
I said,
"They are too wretched for a merciful death. Send them all to Rohalak."
"I had no intent of mercy......"
Gurken scratched his neck and nodded.
"Yes. As you command."
"......Transport them all."
The soldiers saluted thunderously; the prisoners' faces darkened. Weighing death here against life in Rohalak—which was worse?
"Hey! You scum, you heard! Move! Get up and move! Laggards get dumped in the desert—got it?!"
But they could trust this much.
At least 'staying alive' was dozens of times better......
* * *
—Deculein von Grahan Yukline has earned great merit in this Altiegue suppression operation......
Back in the capital, I received a medal: the Imperial Medal of Merit, second class. Sophien pinned it to my chest herself.
A bonus stat point wasn't bad either.
"Well done."
"I am deeply grateful, Your Majesty."
Sophien gazed down from the podium.
"Allow me one piece of advice on this occasion."
"Yes. I shall receive it with thanks."
"Gaze not upon trees you cannot climb."
"......?"
"There! It is done!"
With that cryptic remark, Sophien ended the ceremony. The banquet began.
In the hall, where refined music played amid cries of "Lord Yukline—!" and "Professor Deculein—!", I managed tedious connections before returning to my carriage.
"Hm?"
A letter lay on the back seat.
From Kariksel.
I finally scrounged pencil and paper to write to you, Professor. To start, life in Rohalak is not smooth, but not as dire as expected. We've found water sources, and thankfully few kin starve or thirst to death. Abundant edible beasts help......
Karisel's sentences dragged on. In summary: the Altiegue thrived in Rohalak.
Provocation? Or a probe?
I replied in one line.
Pretend it's hell, but execute any Altiegue still devoted to the Altar on your own authority.
The carriage halted—not at the manor.
Secretary Ren spoke awkwardly.
"Professor."
I peered through the window.
At the manor's entrance, not far off, stood a woman.
Julie.
"What shall we do?"
"......I'll get out. Circle back once."
"Yes."
Stepping out, I watched her from afar. I infused mana into my authority-enhanced Naked Eye.
Her haggard, shabby face caught first, but something graver demanded focus.
Curse
1084 : 53 : 23
Her time was nearly up.
My eyes saw her faint remaining lifespan clearly.
1084 hours. Less than two months.
I approached such a Julie. Spotting me, she stiffened.
"Julie. You've been visiting more often lately."
"......"
"How much uglier do you plan to get?"
She couldn't meet my eyes, head bowed, voice withered.
"......Our knight order is collapsing. Scandals and bribes I knew nothing of."
"Ignorance is no defense."
Rockfel and the Phairden subordinates. Yuseffin had likely woven the trap meticulously. The knights couldn't escape unscathed.
......But then.
Thud—!
Julie dropped to her knees. A heavy stone seemed to settle on my chest too.
"......I beg you."
My breath hitched faintly. But I could show nothing.
I looked down at the lowered Julie.
"Are a knight's knees so cheap?"
"As a mere person......"
Julie clenched her fists on her thighs.
"Innocent knights suffer. At this rate, they may lose their status. Youths who gave everything to become knights. I'll take responsibility. So spare them at least......"
Julie's voice droned on; her timer ticked in my Naked Eye.
Tick-tock— Tick-tock—
Tick-tock—
Her curse wouldn't stop.
"No. I will destroy your entire knight order."
But right then.
With my words.
"Leave the capital. If you must die, do it in your homeland."
Her time halted.
Curse
1084 : 52 : 23
The system second hand froze—then defied time, surging from 1084 to 1098, 1098 to 1120, 1120 to 1180 hours. Her life force thickened.
......What a mystical sight.
"Worried for your comrades? None of my concern. Those wretched fools tied to Veron won't survive in the capital anyway."
I smiled.
At least this method wasn't 'wrong.' It bought her time.
"If you want them alive, leave the capital."
But that alone......
Was worth the hatred.
"Die far from me. Ensure my house suffers no harm."
Julie's trembling ceased. She grew calm, icy. Emotions fiercer than any blaze, now frozen solid.
Thick silence, chilling void.
At last, she looked up and nodded resolutely.
"Yes. So I shall."
—In that instant.
The eleven hundred hours in my Naked Eye amplified to sixty days and one.
* * *
Chijijijik———
The train screeched to a halt on the tracks, its shuddering ceasing. Julie stared blankly out the window.
Pale white earth, parched sky, faint snow flurries crumbling like dust...... A monochrome world blurring all features.
The snowfields that dazed the mind: northern Phairden lands.
"......"
Stepping off at the station, Julie silently took in her homeland's vista.
She'd longed to leave long ago but never could. Now she returned.
In her worst state......
Crunch— Crunch—
Julie walked on wordlessly. Her luggage: one sword, one bundle. Not heading to the family castle.
She meant to find a place to live out her days. She knew better than anyone her life neared its end, yet surrender without a fight was unthinkable.
"......Deculein."
She gripped her sword tighter.
The knight order he'd shattered, her subordinates, that day's humiliation, distant past—all revived.
The hatred and loathing in her heart had frozen cold.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
Thump...... Thump......
Icy chill. A pulse so slow it might snap. Any doctor would gasp, "Isn't she already dead?"
Julie's heart was eternal winter now. Thus, she wouldn't end it like this.
She would overcome. Absolutely, unquestionably.
"Absolutely......"
Julie vowed as she traversed the ice.
......
"What good is she like this."
From afar, Zeit watched Julie. Yuseffin shrugged beside him.
"It's Julie. Useless or not, family, right~?"
"Didn't you break the engagement?"
"Father knew it wouldn't work anyway~ Yukline and Phairden were never compatible."
"......Hmph. Still pisses me off. That curse too—ultimately Deculein's fault."
Julie had earned it protecting Deculein. Though she'd foolishly called it 'part of the mission' and fine.
"Tell Julie to join the Phairden Knights."
"Huh?"
Yuseffin's eyes widened.
"Rumors of corruption are everywhere now? The northern knights will just watch?"
"My responsibility. Let skill silence them."
Zeit clicked his tongue and turned. To his vast—not broad, but massive—back, Yuseffin said,
"Father. When will you let Julie go?"
"......"
Zeit glanced back. His sharp gaze carried the might of the empire's strongest knight.
"......Someday, when that child defeats me. Then I'll release her."
Could Julie beat Zeit? Yuseffin doubted it deeply.
That insanely powerful monster.
No one like him in Phairden history—or the empire's.
"You seem like you'll hold Julie forever."
"......"
Zeit's piercing intent stabbed, but Yuseffin smiled.
"Me~? No way~ She's my little sister~ Hehe."
* * *
......As autumn waned, Ifrin—officially licensed not as Soda but Candle—burst into the assistant lab flaunting her new robe.
"How's it look? The color's more luxurious, right?"
"Yeah. Sure is."
Drent, also a Candle, was buried in experiments; Allen was absent.
"......When do I get juniors."
Ifrin plopped into a chair, pouting. A half-read newspaper lay on the desk.
The lead story: Phairden Knights' bribery scandal. Recent papers and radio buzzed with it.
"Phairden......"
Vaguely familiar, but Ifrin's eyes skipped to the next.
"......This girl."
Sylvia's book was a hit. Ifrin's desk held a copy of Blue Eyes.
Regret: no sequel yet.
Just drop it all at once. Why split into volumes?
Smiling warmly, Ifrin gaped at the view outside.
"Huh?"
She plastered herself to the window.
"Snow already?"
Large flakes tumbled from the sky—not sleet, but proper snow. Grinning, Ifrin sat back.
"Ah~ Seasons changing, but so much left to do~ Nothing solved yet eeeee~ Ooooh~"
Humming a trendy tune, she pulled out her wooden golem. Still carving Deculein from her subconscious.
Tough, but fun and rewarding.
"Bit more, then class...... Drent! Professor Deculein's lecture today, right?"
"Yeah, yeah."
Drent nodded absently; Ifrin chuckled, focusing mana on the golem.
"Today for sure......"
She'd complete this magic.