The Future Where the Emperor Dies
Plip-plop— plip-plop—
The VVIP car of the train heading back to the capital. Rain poured outside the window, and silent lightning flashed now and then.
A strangely chilling atmosphere.
Ifrin, sitting on the sofa, asked,
"So, Professor, that's when you figured out about the regression?"
I nodded.
That moment on the way back to the palace by carriage. The instant the pursuers attacked.
I had overcome the regression, and with Allen arriving late to help, we crushed them together.
"That was the turning point."
"Ahh... that's wild."
Having survived that, I waited until March, when the 'regressed Ifrin' would return.
"But why did I only regress to March?"
"The 'God' must have interfered with your regression. It has the power to intervene in the world."
"...Figures. That guy's the type. Acting all nice and shit~ But I wasn't fooled."
God.
The final boss of this world.
A remnant of the ancient Holy Era, the most dangerous impurity.
"In any case, our top priority is saving Her Majesty."
"Hmm... so this regression was hers after all?"
Ifrin muttered to herself.
"Yes. It's Her Majesty's Authority."
The proof of divinity called Authority.
Ifrin shot back as if she'd been waiting.
"But why did it come to me?"
"Authority exists in this world at a constant level, like entropy. And you're the mage most suited to the concept of 'time.'"
"En-tro... what?"
The in-game lore on Authority. When its bearer dies or loses it for some reason, it always transfers to another.
The criteria for the next host: the talent most fitting for that Authority.
"You don't need to know. But your regression is markedly different from Her Majesty's."
In the original game system, Sophien's death meant game over. It was probably the same in reality. Her regression bordered on recreating the world from scratch, like genesis itself.
Ifrin's, on the other hand, was fake.
"Why?"
"Simple. What's the difference between a newbie mage who just entered the tower and your magical prowess?"
"Duh! I'd crush 'em in one punch... Ah~ okay, got it."
Ifrin let out a hollow laugh and nodded.
"Okay, okay. Crystal clear. Nailed it first try."
Sophien's regression versus Ifrin's.
Not just the qualitative gap between them, but considering the experience of executing it for over a hundred years, Sophien's had to be far stronger.
"So I just wait now?"
"The rest is on me."
"Hmm... then. This... do you wanna keep it, Professor...?"
Ifrin pulled something from her waist. A wooden pocket watch.
I shook my head.
"It's yours."
"Huh? How'd you know?"
"All the time you've walked is etched into it."
My Naked Eye could see it. The pocket watch was covered in time, time, and more time. Every one of Ifrin's loops flickered there alongside the mana.
"Ah! So you know what it's for too? Old man Rohakan gave it to me."
Ifrin blinked her bright eyes expectantly.
I replied,
"...If Rohakan gave it to you, it'll serve its purpose someday. You'll know when the time comes."
Ifrin's expression turned peculiar. She blinked and tossed out,
"That's one long way of saying you don't know."
"..."
"Anyway."
Ifrin hooked the pocket watch back on her waist.
"...Thanks. For keeping your promise."
...In the previous twenty loops where Deculein and the Emperor died, the Altar toyed with the Empire as it pleased. With each loop, the continent hurtled toward mutual destruction and ruin, hope seemingly lost.
But then.
"Restrain baseless rumors among the bureaucrats of the Empire's cities, villages, and towns as much as possible, and silence the chattering pens of the press."
Just one survivor changed everything.
"Mobilize the standing army to bolster borders and city defenses, but send prior notices to the Eight Kingdoms explaining it's a military action to quell internal strife."
The continental situation stabilized at a terrifying pace.
"Ban entry and exit from the Empire until the culprits are executed, and detain the Eight Kingdoms' merchant caravans, diplomats, envoys, and royalty—holding them as hostages in all but name."
Watching this unfold, Ifrin understood why the Altar targeted Professor Deculein right after Emperor Sophien.
"In the end, it seems right to compel the entire continent to cooperate with the Empire."
Deculein was the Empire's pillar and focal point. Even without the Emperor, it rallied around him.
His innate political acumen and bold decisiveness could even replace the Emperor himself.
"...A sound opinion."
This was the palace's grand hall.
But on the throne sat not Sophien, but her brother Kreto.
"Anything else?"
Kreto, sweating coldly, sought Deculein's input.
"As for internal enemies, Yukline has already mobilized all its intelligence networks to hunt them down, so there's no need for concern."
"...Good. Does anyone oppose Deculein's views?"
Kreto scanned the hall. It was packed with ministers, but all were silent.
"Very well. This council ends here. Dismissed."
The ministers bowed and scurried away like fleeing rats. Only Deculein and his noble followers strode out with dignity.
Ifrin hurried to Deculein's side.
"Professor. Do council meetings usually end this anticlimactically?"
"No one to oppose."
Ifrin tilted her head at his words.
"Why not?"
"They're all dead."
"...Huh?"
"Assassinated."
Ifrin blanked out for a moment.
"Uh..."
Every time like this, Deculein's ruthlessness hit her anew.
"They'll live again anyway."
"...True, but still."
"In exchange, you won't be in danger."
"..."
Was this good or bad?
Ifrin swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.
"Now return to your posts and fulfill your duties."
Deculein turned to his noble followers.
"With Her Majesty gravely ill, our tasks are weighty. Yukline will provide support—spare no effort in fortification and surveillance."
"""Yes, sir."""
They departed in perfect unison, and Deculein said to Ifrin,
"Ifrin, time to prepare."
"Huh? Prepare for what?"
"To make this meaningless time a bit less meaningless, I will teach you."
"...Ah."
She understood instantly.
In the repeating loops, what persisted despite everything was memory and knowledge.
She still hadn't fully grasped the Deculein-Luna paper.
"Yes, Professor."
Ifrin nodded resolutely.
...Meaningless time flowed on.
Scraps of time leading to April 9th.
To make them meaningful, I taught Ifrin. I revised her paper, lectured on theory tailored just for her, and firmly defined the properties of 'carbon.'
"Don't forget."
Thus, on the night of April 8th, a month later.
I arrived at the palace lake.
—Yes. Be careful, Professor. And don't forget me.
Just in case, I'd left Ifrin in a palace guest room.
Guarded by Delik and Julie, she chatted via radio.
—Oh, right. What'd you think of that list I gave you? It's almost midnight.
"I read it carefully."
The list of spies and lackeys she'd identified over twenty loops.
Information that would prove immensely useful later.
—Okay. I'll remind you if you forget.
I nodded and peered into the lake's surface.
The lake where I'd fished with Sophien.
—How's the lake?
"Peaceful."
Plip.
A raindrop sank as I answered, rippling the surface faintly. Mana bloomed softly within.
Plip. Plip.
Rain fell from the sky, and the droplets hitting the lake formed a shape. Someone's face.
"..."
I stared silently.
The image was blurry, but somehow clear to me.
"...Are you the 'God'?"
Plip. Plip. Plip.
But it wasn't time yet. The rain distorted it, hiding the face again. I looked up at the sky.
Plip-plop. Plop.
Blocking the intensifying rain with Telekinesis, I pondered quietly.
Rehearsing the memory I must never forget.
Engraving it deep into my mind.
Plip-plop-plip...
A vassal's most basic duty: protect the Emperor.
—Almost midnight. I'll count down. Ten!
But now, a world without Sophien was mere illusion.
Game over, essentially.
—Nine!
Thus, she—the proof of this world—must live.
—Eight!
With this world.
—Seven!
And with me...
—Six!
Midnight struck.
The regression's pivot: April 9th.
...I awoke in Yukline's underground crystal cave.
I instinctively checked the time.
"..."
Exactly midnight.
The memories left in my head: nearly all intact.
Not just the last loop— the other twenty-odd loops I'd squandered were firmly there too.
"Hmph."
I let out a small breath.
Inside the crystal cave lay sacks of sand grains.
Now just amusing, I left the assignment behind and ascended to the surface. Standing in the garden's center, I glanced back at the cave entrance.
Chirp-chirp— chirp-chirp-chirp—
Two-syllable and three-syllable birdsongs. Dawn light tinting the underground cave green. Five rays of light at certain angles... none of that now.
It was still night.
"Ren."
I called for Ren.
"..."
No answer.
Still night.
Even Ren was asleep.
I moved alone. Walked to the parking lot, opened the car door. No keys, but Telekinesis sufficed.
Vroom—
I started the engine and floored it.
What month and day it was now, whether Sophien was still alive or already dead— I could check later.
Just go and see.
That was all.
Splash—
The fishing line hit the lake. Sophien propped her chin on her hand, gazing at it.
"...How curious."
Just watching wasn't boring. It brimmed with fun, even anticipation.
Perhaps because even the Emperor's status couldn't command this fish.
Or simple thrill: would it bite, or not?
"..."
Sophien pondered by the lakeside. Late night, but moonlight kept it from total dark.
Suddenly, her mutter.
"Will a mi-jo catch?"
Right then, bubbles rose. Sophien yanked the rod, checking the fish.
Mi-jo.
She smirked, rebaited, and cast again.
Splash—
The line hit the lake. Sophien propped her chin, gazing.
The next fish would be—
"Are you alone?"
A sudden voice echoed.
Sophien turned slowly. Deep in fishing, she was utterly defenseless...
"Hm?"
Moonlight lit the face: Deculein.
Sophien narrowed her eyes.
"Why are you here?"
"To see Your Majesty."
Deculein sat in the chair beside her. Sophien glared in disbelief.
"To see Us."
"Yes."
"Did the Royal Guard permit entry to the inner palace?"
"Yes."
"...Have they all gone mad."
Sophien huffed in absurdity. Deculein produced his 'Elite Guard ID' from his pocket.
"A privilege Your Majesty granted personally. Free access to the palace."
Sophien grumbled sourly.
"We must have had dementia then..."
"Be that as it may."
Splash—
Deculein cast his line too.
Two lines floated side by side in the lake's center.
"No, why here of all—"
About to chide him for choosing right beside her in this vast lake— but.
"I'm glad you're here."
His ambush silenced her.
"..."
Sophien glanced sidelong. The situation felt alien to her.
Familiar up till he arrived.
"...Did you come to fish?"
"To see Your Majesty."
"..."
"Also, grant me leave to stay by Your Majesty's side for at least a week from today."
"Have you lost your mind."
Sophien's face twisted. She sneered,
"Did you take some drug?"
"No."
Deculein denied firmly. He turned, meeting her eyes.
His blue gaze, fixed on the lake, now held Sophien.
"Your Majesty."
"...You took drugs. Don't know what kind."
This directness burdened her. She cleared her throat and stood.
Crunch—
Just then, a bite. Sophien sat quick, reeling in.
Splashhh—!
The fish leaped through the spray—a species she'd never seen. She showed it to Deculein.
He knew everything, after all.
"What is this?"
Deculein didn't disappoint.
"A fathead minnow."
"Fathead minnow?"
"Yes. That plump belly suggests it's gravid."
"..."
Sophien tossed it back.
Fishing a pregnant one felt against the natural order.
Pat-pat—
She dusted her hands and walked. Deculein followed.
He matched her imperial stride and pace flawlessly. Their footsteps waltzed—
"Professor."
Sophien turned. Her narrowed eyes shot daggers as she snapped,
"Why do you keep following?"
"I shall remain by Your Majesty's side for a time."
"We lack for nothing."
"I shall defy you."
"...What? Ha."
Sophien laughed in astonishment. Deculein replied,
"To ensure Your Majesty never dies again."
"...Dies?"
"Yes. Your Majesty."
The dark, silent palace corridor. Empty space, cold wind wandering.
Meeting her crimson eyes flashing there, Deculein added,
"I have seen the future where Your Majesty passes away."