The Wooden Pocket Watch. (4)
A wooden pocket watch.
—...It's been a long time, child of Luna.
In the darkness of the dream. Right at its center appeared Deculein's father, the ghost of the past, Dikailen.
"...".
Ifrin felt a jolt of fear, but it was only for a moment.
I don't tremble anymore. I don't fear. I don't back down.
It was thanks to the proper 'self-objectification' she'd achieved.
Her attributes were 'Artifact' and 'Origin'. Talents so rare that ordinary people could hardly dream of even one, and she had two.
It would be a waste of her potential to run away in terror.
"Come at me."
Ifrin taunted him as she assumed her battle stance. Crackle—crackle— mana sparked like electricity. Dikailen responded with a low smile.
—You've changed. However, child. I have no desire to fight you.
"Bullshit...".
—Shall we sit?
Two chairs materialized in the empty darkness.
Dikailen approached with measured steps and sat, gesturing to the seat opposite him.
—Sit.
"...What?"
Ifrin hesitated for a moment. But Dikailen just nodded calmly, as if it were no big deal.
"...What kind of trick is this?"
—No trick. I simply wish to speak with you.
"Speak?"
—Yes. Sit, and I'll tell you everything you don't know. About my son, of course. And about your father.
"...".
Deculein and her father. Their relationship.
Dikailen was suspicious, but the offer tempted her.
Ifrin shot back prickly.
"...Out of nowhere?"
—Not out of nowhere. I've always wanted to tell you. But there were... interferences.
Dikailen smiled at her. He even used psychokinesis to pull the chair closer, making it easier for her to sit.
—Will you listen? Or will you leave? I'll follow your lead.
"...".
Curiosity and doubt welled up from the depths of her heart. The dark past of her father and Deculein, knotted like a lump in her chest.
Unable to resist, Ifrin quietly sat in the chair. She glared at Dikailen with a fiercely hostile expression.
He smiled faintly.
—Child, what do you wonder?
"Your purpose. Why? How? Why are you in my head?"
—Simple. I tried to implant myself in your body.
"My—my body?"
—Yes. You wouldn't have known, but that byproduct lingered in you, allowing me to flicker at your side like this.
"...This psycho!"
Ifrin glared at Dikailen in utter disgust.
"Fucking gross...".
But Dikailen chuckled and tossed out:
—It was your father's proposal.
A sentence hard to swallow.
Ifrin furrowed her brow and asked again.
"...What?"
—Child, I told you before. Kaigan Luna did not love you.
"...".
Her expression hardened in an instant. Dikailen smiled. Tap— He placed a finger on the table.
—Long ago, your mother gave birth to you and fled.
"...Mother? My mom?"
—Yes.
Ifrin didn't know her mother's face. No photos or portraits remained; only her name on a tombstone back home.
"What does that mean?"
—It was the Ilayde family's lure. They offered a fortune if she abandoned the Luna name. Your mother accepted gladly. She abandoned you and Kaigan.
"...".
Ifrin gaped blankly.
—In the end, Kaigan came to resent the Ilaydes. He hated your mother and loathed you for resembling her. Magic was all that remained in his life, and he obsessed over his theories like a madman... But then.
A chess piece appeared on Dikailen's table with a thud.
A lowly pawn.
—Your father Kaigan, who lived like a paranoid wreck.
Behind it, a massive king piece descended.
—Met me.
Ifrin clenched her fists.
—Struggling with succession, he offered you to me. Sacrifice you, and help him with his revenge. Topple the Ilaydes. Find his wife and kill her.
Mockery spread across Dikailen's face.
—He wasn't right in the head.
"Bullshit! Don't spew that crap—!"
Ifrin couldn't take it anymore and bellowed. Her shout toppled the king and pawn on the table.
"No proof! No proof at all! My dad—"
—Proof.
"Yeah—!"
Ifrin shot to her feet. She glared at Dikailen as if ready to flip the table.
"How could Dad hate me! How could he—"
—I told you.
Dikailen's voice turned icy. His eyes, so like Deculein's, hardened.
—That 'byproduct' is still with you.
"What does that...".
Suddenly, Ifrin met Dikailen's gaze. She followed where he looked.
—Child of Luna.
...Her wrist.
The bracelet on her wrist.
The keepsake from her father.
What she'd thought was her artifact attribute...
—That's the byproduct.
"...Ah."
—You becoming a mage, coming to the university, receiving the 'Artifact'—all your emotions and actions. He guided every bit of it.
Dikailen said.
—Your life is fake. It was never real, not once.
"...".
Ifrin's pupils darkened in silence. Her focus blurred, her breath trembled.
As her head bowed lower, Dikailen's smile deepened.
—Now do you see? Your life is utterly worthless—
"...Then."
But at some point, Ifrin gritted her teeth.
She pulled herself together just before crumbling. She snorted back her snot.
"You knew and never told me."
—Who?
Ifrin stared silently at her wrist. Her father's bracelet clung there.
"...The Professor."
She looked at her palm. Mulberry steel lay there.
—...Hm.
Dikailen leaned back in his chair. He glared at Ifrin with utter contempt.
"The Professor knew everything but let me hate him. He even told me he killed my dad."
—Someone as weak as you, getting revenge on me after I killed Kaigan? Deculein's words suddenly echoed in her ears.
"...Just like you're trying to break me now, because he was afraid I'd break."
Ifrin lifted her head. Her face was puffy like a steamed bun soaked in water, but she slammed the mulberry steel on the table while glaring at Dikailen.
Thud—!
The large, sturdy mulberry steel crushed the pawn and king.
"This is my knight."
—...Tch.
Dikailen shook his head. Ifrin ground out her words, chewing them fiercely.
"I don't play chess 'cause it's hard, but this is dozens of times stronger than any pawn or king."
Rumble... rumble...
In that instant, the dream's darkness began to shake.
Ifrin's mana gathered into the mulberry steel, cracks etching into the ground.
"I'm not breaking."
She wiped the tears from her eyes. Her heart felt torn—no, it already was.
But she spat it out with sheer spite.
"Because that's what the Professor wants."
Crack—crack—crack—!
The world of her unconscious split apart entirely.
Amid the collapsing fragments, Dikailen stared at Ifrin, and she met his gaze without flinching.
...And then.
"Hah!"
When she opened her eyes again, she was in Sylvia's cabin.
"Gah!"
Ifrin bolted upright and clutched her chest.
Thump-thump-thump-thump—
She calmed her wildly pounding heart, caught her breath, and then—
"...Huh."
She spotted the bracelet on the bedside table.
Her father's keepsake, always worn. Her magical artifact.
More precious than her own life...
"It's broken."
It lay limp like a snapped rubber band, like a dead earthworm.
"...".
Ifrin stared at the bracelet for a long time.
Silent, just staring blankly.
She had no choice.
The next day, afternoon.
In the sun-drenched streets of Yuren, Ifrin walked with Sylvia and Allen.
"...".
"...".
"...".
None of them spoke. A shared gloom, fatigue, and awkwardness hung over them.
"Bookstore."
As they walked quietly, Sylvia pointed somewhere.
A large sign reading 「Bookstore」 stood prominently in the middle of the shops. Quite big for a bookstore.
"Y-yeah. Let's go there."
Ifrin reacted first, and Allen nodded too. They entered together.
"Hm?"
Ifrin's eyes widened the moment they stepped in.
"...Lots of people?"
The bookstore was packed. People everywhere—some in robes, mages even.
What was going on? This wasn't the Floating Island library.
"What the."
Sylvia narrowed her eyes, displeased.
Allen said,
"Yeees. Look, there's an event today~."
"Event?"
"Yeees."
Ifrin looked where Allen pointed. A poster.
Yuren Reading Quiz Contest! Live Radio Broadcast!
"Radio live broadcast... What's a live broadcast?"
"No idea."
Sylvia wandered off to find books, and Ifrin squinted suspiciously at the poster—a perfectly ordinary flow.
"Huh?"
A puzzled voice from behind Ifrin.
Ifrin and Allen turned.
"Oh! It's you, Lia, right?"
A member of the Red Garnet Adventurers.
Lia was there, hugging some books. She bowed at the waist.
"Hellooo!"
"Hey, hi. Long time no see. What brings you here?"
"I'm here for the reading quiz contest~."
"...Reading quiz contest?"
"Yep. The prizes are huge~."
Lia smiled brightly but soon darkened.
"Right. I heard about... the Professor passing...".
"Oh, that? I'm fine."
"...Pardon?"
"I'm fine, really. It'll be so fine I won't even remember it."
Lia tilted her head at the cryptic words, and Ifrin glanced at the 'reading quiz contest' preparations in the distance.
—Everyone, make sure you're ready! The princess is participating too!
She had no clue what radio live broadcast meant, but they seemed busy with something.
"What do you get for winning?"
"Yep. 30,000 elne prize money, and an invitation to the inner castle~. But... what do you mean fine? Oh, and His Imperial Majesty is critically ill, right? He's okay?"
"30,000 elne prize and inner castle invite...".
"Um, Sister Ifrin? Sister?"
Lia chattered on strangely, but Ifrin just stared intently at the stage in the center of the bookstore.
—Radio live broadcast ready?
—Yes!
Watching, Ifrin's face filled with curiosity.
"Lia. Can I sign up right now?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, you can. But His Majesty is okay, right?"
"Yeah. Fine."
"Whoa! Phew, phew...".
Leaving Lia clutching her chest in relief, Ifrin headed to the quiz area.
"Excuse me, I'd like to sign up. I'm a mage too~."
"Ah, yes. Fill out your name and everything and submit it."
"Okay...".
As Ifrin nodded while taking the form—
Thud———!
"Gyah!"
A massive quake hit, and the entire bookstore sank into the ground.
...This place was the outer edge of the world.
A conceptual space belonging to neither continent nor cosmos.
In a vast landscape like a desert, unbound by any natural law, only a single lake and one person existed.
He peered into the lake, and the lake spoke to him.
—O God. What do you do?
A voice connected to that distant continent. The one called god answered softly.
"Fishing."
—O God. Is there life in that place?
"No."
He shook the rod. No bait, no fish in this lake—it was dreadfully boring.
—Forgive me. But at last, Your resurrection draws near.
The Altar's priest said. His resurrection was imminent.
The time to reclaim his body and advance on the continent was almost here.
"Yes."
He nodded. No thrill, faint joy, but the 'punishment of heresy' was undoubtedly necessary.
"Wait."
He retrieved his rod.
An empty hook, no fish to catch, no bait. But as he touched it, a fresh shrimp materialized and was threaded on.
Plop—!
As he cast into the lake, the 'god' murmured.
"...Is fishing in this meaningless lake itself meaningless? Or does it hold value in and of itself?"
His imminent resurrection.
Contemplating that descent, he fell into brief meditation...