Dreams and Memories, the Voice (2)

I seated Ifrin in the office chair.

I gazed deeply into her eyes, shining a light on them as if checking for pupil reflex.

"……Hic."

Suddenly, Ifrin let out a hiccup. I looked up at her.

"Is there a problem?"

She pouted her lips.

"……You're too close."

"……."

The examination was over anyway, so I leaned back a little.

"Ifrin. Demonic Energy has been detected in your pupils."

"Pardon?"

Demonic Energy. Even the tiniest particle drives me to violence.

It's the greatest foe of the Constitution I acquired before, but I don't worry much. Deculein's rage—though his words and actions grow somewhat rough—ultimately freezes cold.

"Um……."

Ifrin averted her eyes and hesitated.

"Speak."

"……Well. My father appeared in my dream."

I watched her silently. She added, head bowed low.

"But…… it didn't feel like my father. Like I was being tricked or something."

I pieced the words together.

Dream. Father. Deception. Demonic Energy.

"Nothing happened in the dream?"

"Huh? Oh, um……."

Ifrin's eyes widened. She fidgeted like an octopus, her face flushing red.

It was strangely repulsive.

"Keep your hands and feet still. Before I cut them off."

"What?! Cut them?!"

"……."

"……Something did happen."

I kept glaring, and she finally began reciting it bit by bit.

I listened quietly to her words.

She met Kaigan Luna in the dream, but it didn't feel like her father; approaching would have been disastrous; she survived thanks to the mental training last time…….

"It was a demon."

"……A demon?"

Ifrin echoed.

"Indeed. Of the five senses, which does man forget the fastest?"

"Hearing."

"Correct. Distant sounds from long ago are forgotten, making them easy to imitate."

Man forgets voices quickest. Here, 'forget' means literal oblivion. Thus, it's the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠easiest sense to deceive.

"Do not be fooled by voices heard in dreams."

In a world without common recorders, the voices of the dead fade and vanish easily.

The Voice is the demon that slips through that gap.

"Its name is 'Voice.'"

"Whoa! I've been there too! It was ruins."

Ifrin spoke loudly. I nodded.

"It is both a concept and phenomenon that manifests the world. That ruin embodies human memory, dreams, hopes, wishes. Surely wondrous items were sold there."

"……Ah, yes. That's right. I have one of these too. Roh…… that old man gave it to me before."

Ifrin pulled a copper coin from her pocket. A 10-elne piece.

"But why did I have such a dream?"

"……."

I silently eyed Ifrin's head.

Crown, temples, glabella, forehead.

Suddenly, Ifrin narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Why are you staring at my lips like that?"

"……Has ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠your mind gone mad?"

"What?"

I leaned back against the chair.

"In any case, you have received a formal invitation. Likely, memories like Dikailen and Kaigan Luna in your head have all flowed to it."

"Then what happens?"

"A door to your memories will open in those ruins. Those who challenge and clear it receive that coin."

I pointed to the coin.

"Clear……. Clear? Cleaaar~?"

Ifrin's face twisted oddly as she repeated it.

"How do you clear it? My memories?"

"Like a dungeon. Villains from your memories appear as the final boss."

"Aha~ If it's villains from my memories…… Gilteon, Lollu, Lucia, Deculein……."

She blurted her thoughts aloud and froze. But she quickly pretended it was unconscious muttering and corrected herself.

"……Deculein's neutral now, so exclude him—"

"No nonsense. In any case, the difficulty of your memories is top-tier."

"Ahem…… But why is that demon doing this? For what purpose?"

"Domination of the continent."

I answered simply. Ifrin blinked blankly.

"……It can do that?"

"Not impossible. The more people fervently enter the Voice's ruins, the stronger it grows. Invading dreams like yours to manipulate memories allows domination."

Its goal: rule the world through people.

Yet not pure evil. It offers a chance to grow stronger—opportunity and crisis intertwined.

"Then…… since I was invited, what about you, Professor?"

"I was invited long ago."

"……How do you know?"

"Your shoulder."

"Shoulder?"

With Telekinesis, I lowered the hem of Ifrin's robe. Her shoulder and collarbone were revealed.

Of course, Ifrin made a huge fuss.

"Eek! Why, why! What are you doooing—!"

"There."

"You're craaaazy—!"

"……."

I gritted my teeth briefly.

"Look at your shoulder."

"……What?!"

"There will be a single-stroke tattoo."

Ifrin conjured an opaque barrier with utter disbelief. The magic "Whispering Wall."

"What the—!"

She checked her shoulder and shouted. The wall vanished, and Ifrin looked at me with an awkward, flushed face.

"Why is this……?"

"That tattoo determines entry timing. Voice lacks time now, so entry once a week. I'll notify later—match your schedule to mine."

"……."

Ifrin scratched her nape awkwardly, avoiding my eyes, then nodded.

"Y-yes. Yes, Professor."

The depths of winter, the harshest season, one dawn.

"……!"

Julie jolted awake.

"Hah, hah, hah……."

Ragged breaths. Her body was soaked in cold sweat, and their voices still echoed in her ears.

—Captain, please avenge me.

—Captain…… ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I…….

Rockpel and Veron. Rockpel begged for revenge with limbs torn off; a foot of wood-iron pierced Veron's heart.

A nightmare.

"……."

She calmed her pounding heart. Forced herself into meditation.

But fate wasn't on her side.

—Knight! Big trouble!

Julie sprang up.

She wiped sweat with light Cleanse. Donned tiger-hide armor and gear. Tied her hair simply, drew her sword, and opened the door.

Railly clung immediately.

"Big trouble, big trouble!"

"What hap—"

"Hurry! You'll see!"

Railly dragged Julie to the conference room. Many knights were there, deep in discussion.

"Oh~ Julie's here?"

"Sit."

Syrio and Gwen welcomed her, but imperial knights didn't even glance.

"……A scout far into Mieolji described this scene."

A single drawing was pinned to the conference room blackboard. Julie's eyes widened instantly.

A monster wave in Mieolji. But denser than any before.

Julie couldn't believe her eyes.

Imperial knight Delik spoke.

"Professor Deculein's prediction was correct."

Truth be told, even gathered here, they'd half-doubted 'Deculein's prediction.'

19 years ago. A monster wave dwarfing the mad one that ravaged the continent.

"……What will you do? In a week, this horde arrives—starved, far fiercer."

Delik gauged the knights' mood. Julie frowned. She knew what he meant.

Soon, Delik said.

"I will leave."

"……Sir Delik."

Julie stepped forward to stop him, but Delik shook his head.

"Corrupt knights, stay put."

"……."

She clenched her fists. Fury boiled within.

"Holding Recor Dak is meaningless. Of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠course, Dayah knights will insist on holding."

"No. If it's truly that dire, at least evacuate with the mountain folk—"

"Fine, whatever. Anyway……."

Screeech—!

The conference room door opened again.

All saluted the newcomer. They stood and bowed.

Deculein.

He scanned the room coolly.

"A knights-only meeting?"

No one answered. Only silence.

Deculein strode naturally to the head seat.

"Soon Recor Dak Knights will be hollow—yet so many wish to leave."

He glanced around. Delik, meeting his eyes, spoke slowly.

"Professor, you don't plan to leave……?"

"I said so from the start."

"……."

Delik subtly turned away, face twisting. Soon, calm again, he faced Deculein.

"But see this report. Hundreds of knights, thousands of prisoners—insufficient numbers. This isn't like the great tiger. Waves grow larger; if the first is this bad, it'll be combat 24 hours a day."

Delik persuaded desperately, reasonably.

"It's a quality-of-life issue. Defending this barrier means a month of nonstop battle. Physically survivable, but mentally……."

His speech dragged on. Rational reasons.

"Hm. Reasonable, Delik."

Deculein nodded. Delik brightened; agreeing knights too.

Deculein said.

"Many wish to leave?"

At first, no hands rose.

"Raise without burden."

At his second urging, starting with Delik, hands shot up like bamboo sprouts.

Deculein smiled at them all.

"Good. Leave."

"……."

Delik sighed in relief. Even Deculein felt the strain inwardly.

"Yes. Then we'll compile opinions later—"

"However."

Deculein's face hardened abruptly.

No—his mouth smiled, but eyes were steel. That eerie expression chilled more.

"I predicted this crisis via the concept of collision value."

Deculein continued in a low, thick voice.

"You knew that coming here."

One trait of novel villains amid countless worlds.

"Yet costs sunk into acquiring and developing this prison are astronomical. Had you not followed me, I wouldn't have spent them."

First: hates sunk costs especially. Obsessively despises losses, drives subordinates even in impossibilities.

"That loss means nothing, but my chairman title hangs on this barrier."

Second: obsessed with honor and power. Wealth and glory forever third-rate villains' endgame.

"Chairman title or not…… if knights leave."

Third.

"They should not plan to stand with me eternally."

Long grudges.

Very long.

Long enough to kill over them.

"……What say you?"

Conversely, a villain's strength.

No need for forced persuasion like Julie's. Mobilize desired forces for desired goals.

"Still leaving?"

Deculein's smile deepened. To imperial knights, serpentine evil.

"Or fight and die here for honor?"

Deculein sank into his chair. Always aloof noble grace, but next words brutal.

"Think a day and decide. No corner of this empire escapes my reach. Accidents may befall the road to the capital."

Deculein chuckled deliberately, rising. All knights watched, but none spoke. Just his retreating back.

Screeech—!

Door closed; silence blanketed the room. Knights eyed the scout report complexly.

"Haa……."

Delik's heavy sigh sank like cigarette smoke.

Meanwhile, Sophien received a book from Deculein. A basic go manual.

"This fool wrote it well."

She skimmed, nodded satisfied. Placed it by Kairon's snow globe on the desk.

"More importantly, Your Majesty. Is it true Professor Deculein hunted the great tiger?"

Sophien eyed the one seated before her suspiciously. Kreto.

He'd come unannounced, asking northern rumors.

"Yes. True."

"Ooh! As expected!"

"Why ask?"

"Haha. Writing a biography on Professor Deculein lately."

"Madman. Why would imperial blood write such trash? I'll shred it."

"Ah~ Naturally under pen name. No one knows it's me."

"……Tch. Idiot."

Sophien shook her head, most displeased.

"Oh right. Wave rumors everywhere. What of Professor Deculein?"

"What else? Handling it himself. I'm busy with Altiegue."

Kreto wry-smiled. Cautiously gauging her, he asked.

"But why does Your Majesty hate Altiegue so?"

"……."

Sophien fell silent briefly. Stared at Kreto.

"My hatred has reason."

"……Yes. As you say. Your Majesty is truly wise. Anyway, Professor predicted this wave dangerous?"

"Indeed. Hundreds of times last year's. Curious if it manifests—or he alone humiliated."

Sophien smirked. Kreto, serious, said.

"I like the professor, but…… hope he's wrong this time."

"Quiet."

Thud—!

Sophien handed Kreto documents.

"Deliver to Interior Minister en route. Read them too."

"What are they?"

"Future Altiegue policies."

Kreto read with bitter heart.

"……!"

His eyes bulged. Heart skipped.

That shocking.

"……Also, as emperor, one letter to a vassal."

Sophien said then. Kreto looked up startled.

"P-pardon? A letter?"

"Yes."

Sophien realized her letter was somewhat off. Not phrasing, but too old-fashioned.

"Help refine it before you go."

"……Yes."

Kreto pocketed papers, nodded.

Then casually asked.

"But to whom?"

"None of your concern!"

"……Pardon?"

Sophien reacted sharply.

"Emperor's personal matter—you needn't know!"

Kreto puzzled, but replied simply.

"Y-yes, understood……."