Mieolji's Southern Descent
The southward march into Mieolji.
The wounds inflicted by that brutal winter had all healed. Emperor Sophien had turned the historic catastrophe into an opportunity.
She distinguished between the dead and the living. The dead were the elderly, while the living were the young and the children. The old had died because they were weak, but the children survived because they were weak. The old had perished from old age, but the children lived because they were too young. The old had chosen death themselves, while the children gained life through the adults' sacrifices.
Emperor Sophien had deliberately hastened the elderly's deaths. She let those with severe injuries or who could no longer move perish without treatment. In their place, she saved the children and the young.
The elderly accepted it willingly.
In any case, death in old age was beneficial to the empire, both short-term and long-term. With fewer mouths to feed, reason dictated as much, setting aside sentiment.
It was a reform of the population structure.
The reconstruction of villages destroyed by the mana beasts began. Villages like landfills, slums, and ghettos—continued under the guise of tradition—had naturally vanished, all incorporated into "imperial land."
The emperor pursued thorough, planned development. The zoning drew from the Yuren Duchy's efficient urban model. Unlike her rigid ministers who dismissed it as "merely a duchy’s," she embraced it openly.
As a result, Sophien had righted the prolonged chaos in a mere three months.
Simultaneously, she achieved internal crackdowns, strengthened imperial authority, and reformed the social structure.
“……All thanks to Your Majesty’s benevolence. The press is singing Your Majesty’s praises as well.”
In the imperial palace’s lake.
Ahan relayed the press’s words with a smile to Sophien, who was fishing with a pipe dangling from her mouth.
“The empire now needs only to grow ever stronger……”
“……”
Sophien stared blankly at the lake.
The serene water surface holding the fishing line.
Yet when she gazed at it like this, an inexplicable sense of incongruity and déjà vu suddenly washed over her.
──Here, at this lake.
She had clearly heard "someone" say something.
“……Your Majesty?”
“Hand over the newspaper.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Sophien took up the newspaper instead of dwelling on her thoughts.
Freedom of the press was a social value she was currently fostering. Of course, with the intent to check her ministers. She hoped their eyes and ears would expose the ministers' corruption like maggots……
“……What madness is this?”
Sophien’s face twisted. She pointed to the massive headline at the top of the newspaper.
Beneath it, the article was densely packed.
Sophien crumpled the newspaper. Ahan, on the other side of the paper, wore a awkward smile.
“Ah…… Well…… You see, an excerpt from Professor Deculein’s direct conversation with the chairman was……”
“……That professor said such things.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Ahan bowed her head and continued.
“If I may humbly suggest, perhaps the professor seeks to bear the weight of Altiegue suppression in Your Majesty’s stead……”
“Tch.”
Sophien read the newspaper again.
All the cruel, cold assertions were Deculein’s burden, while mercy and benevolence were hers alone.
“I cannot fathom what that man truly desires.”
Impossible to read his intentions from his exterior, never revealing his inner thoughts.
He seemed to hate Altiegue more than anyone, yet in the most crucial policy, he had urged consideration that "not all Altiegue are at fault."
Ahan ventured cautiously.
“Perhaps the professor wishes Your Majesty to avoid hatred.”
“……Hatred?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Hmph.”
Sophien scoffed and lowered her gaze. She looked at Kairon’s snow globe by her feet.
“This is why I am convinced. No one regards Emperor Your Majesty as sincerely as the professor─”
“Enough. Be silent. I’ll ask the professor himself later.”
She gripped the fishing rod again. No bite, but she flicked it about idly.
“Tell that professor to visit me once the ‘Island of the Voice’ matter concludes. I shall question him thoroughly.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Ahan bowed, suppressing a smile.
Not that she meant it, but her cheeks were flushed red─
“Why are you smiling?”
“Y-Yes? Ah, Your Majesty. It’s just……”
“……Bring some snacks. I’m getting hungry.”
“Yes! I’ll be right back!”
Ahan fled the scene.
The ‘Island of the Voice’ had emerged in the empire’s western territorial waters. As soon as word spread, hundreds of adventurers rushed in, only to be entirely detained by Deculein’s pre-positioned forces and the imperial guards.
Thanks to them, the western coastal theater was a marketplace of noise. The police station too cramped, they were using the theater instead……
“Yaaawn~”
Yawning, Ganesha pulled out her newly acquired radio.
In truth, double- and triple-precautions against adventurers were standard, so she’d split her party in two before setting out.
Immediate reply. Ganesha grinned and asked.
“Yeah. Where are you right now~?”
Crackle─
The radio cut out, and a voice came from not far away.
“Right here. Leader, I’m right here……”
Theater’s rearmost seats. Dozmu and the other adventurer party members sat calmly, waving.
A vein popped on Ganesha’s forehead.
“Ah, that useless bastard for real…… Ugly and incompetent. I’ll smash that face.”
“Still, better this way.”
Lia said, sweeping her gaze around the theater interior.
There were at least five hundred adventurers.
“Who knows what’d happen if all these rushed in at once.”
Then, the theater doors opened again.
All adventurers’ eyes focused there, on the man adjusting his cuffs and wristwatch as he entered.
Deculein.
“Greetings.”
He addressed the adventurers, scanning them. But every one wore a fierce expression.
“I understand your frustrations, but the ‘Island of the Voice’ lies above imperial territorial waters. Laws exist to be obeyed. Isn’t that so?”
His oppressive voice preempted rebellion or rebuttal.
“No! The agreement between the adventurer guild and the empire─”
“Do you think my legal interpretation inferior to yours? If you wish, we can debate. All of you together, even.”
A certain bald, fairly famous adventurer named Durok glared and lunged, only to be swiftly subdued.
Ganesha let out a hollow laugh.
“We’re screwed. From the start, since it hinges on law, no chance.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Most here haven’t even properly read the adventurer code. The smart ones who do are plotting elsewhere.”
“……Fair point.”
Lia nodded and shot up her hand. Instantly, Deculein and several adventurers turned to her.
“So, adventurers can’t enter the island at all?”
“No. After proper evaluation and selection, and swearing to perform specific missions and exit the island, entry is permitted.”
“……Who does the evaluation and selection?”
Deculein narrowed his eyes, as if questioning why ask the obvious.
“I do.”
Gulp─
Lia swallowed, facing Deculein. Fortunately, Ganesha was beside her, but tension gripped her anyway.
“Red Garnet adventurer party—just you two?”
In a dim space unclear if evaluation or interrogation room. Deculein asked while reading their adventurer IDs and documents.
“……Yes. A few more outside. Shall I call them?”
“Call th─”
“Nah~ No need. We go way back, debts and all~”
Ganesha beamed a wink at Deculein.
No reaction from him.
“……Ahem.”
Ganesha flicked her twintails a few times, then spoke normally.
“What must we do to enter that island? Or rather, what’s your goal, Professor~?”
“The goal is to decommission the entire ‘Island of the Voice.’ If the erosion advances further, the world will be devoured.”
Deculein returned their IDs and continued.
“If the Voice spreads, the line between living and dead vanishes. This place becomes no different from the afterlife, turning into a continent of undead unworthy of life.”
Lia inwardly admired. Deculein had pierced the essence of the ‘Voice’ quest.
As expected of the Yukline lineage.
“To decommission the island?”
“Find and kill the ‘Master of Waves.’ A ‘Voice’ in human skin. That demon should be within the island.”
Ganesha pondered, then nodded.
“There’ll be a reward, right?”
Deculein replied with a sneer.
“Beyond imagination.”
“……”
Ganesha’s expression hardened instantly.
Sometimes, the speaker matters more than the words. From some vagrant, it’d be dismissed as nonsense, but from a noble of Deculein’s stature, it was different.
The Yukline head declared: the reward would be unimaginable.
That simple sentence made Ganesha—who’d roamed the continent for over a decade, amassing treasures—tremble with excitement.
“And the evaluation and selection? If we pass, what then?”
Deculein gave a low smile to the now-serious Ganesha.
“If selected, you enter the Voice with me. Free otherwise, barring our shared goal. No interference in what you do there.”
“Sounds good. So, how’s the selection? A test?”
“A simple test.”
His criteria now were utterly straightforward. The item evaluated, the process itself—even doable in an instant, like a pop quiz.
“Pit your ‘mental fortitude’ against me.”
Whether they possessed the mental strength to resist the Voice’s allure.
“……That’s it.”
An insidious smile crept onto Deculein’s lips for some reason.
……Meanwhile, Julie rummaged through classified documents in the Imperial Intelligence Agency’s basement.
The task assigned by Her Majesty: the mastermind behind the assassination attempt. Step by step, she drew closer to the truth.
“You really need to know that?”
Shuffle─ shuffle─ A voice approached as she flipped files. Startled, she turned.
It was Syrio.
“Sir Syrio?”
“Yeah. That your assignment?”
“You scared me…… Sigh. It’s confidential. Please keep it secret.”
“Of course. I’m tight-lipped.”
Syrio grinned cheerfully and sat beside her.
“Not going to the ‘Island of the Voice’? It’s all the rage among knights lately.”
“I will. But no knight slots opened yet, save through Deculein’s connections.”
An adventurer’s island. Crisis and opportunity intertwined, accessible solely via Deculein’s ties.
The imperial knights nominally accepted knight applicants, but with Delik in charge, any faction even slightly disfavored by Deculein faced rejection.
An absurd situation.
The imperial knights, more loyal to the empire than anyone, swayed by a mere professor.
“Is that so? Fits Deculein~”
“Yes. Right now, Deculein is no different from a cartel.”
Hostility laced Julie’s voice. Syrio smiled faintly at her.
“Julie, you still hate Deculein, huh.”
Julie stuffed files into her bag and replied.
“……Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why? You know, Sir Syrio. What he…… did.”
“Yeah. I know. Saw it firsthand.”
Syrio grinned.
“But it was all for you.”
“What do you…… Never mind. I’ll be going. I don’t want to argue with you, Sir Syrio.”
Julie shouldered her bag. The backpack, stuffed with massive files, dwarfed her frame.
As she gripped the intelligence room doorknob, Syrio said.
“Julie. You might regret it. Once you know the truth.”
“……”
“And it might get dangerous.”
His tone was ominous. Not his usual clear self—a viscous wind like blood enveloped Julie.
She turned to him.
“What do you mean?”
“……”
Expressionless Syrio. Glaring at his calm demeanor, Julie’s hand went to her sword hilt. Syrio, tracking her eyes, smirked.
“Dangerous. The truth you learn will make you a target. The Altar will come for you. You’ll suffer greatly. Still okay?”
“I’ve nothing left to lose.”
Julie nodded resolutely, grinding her teeth.
“Professor Deculein shattered my knight order—my everything—and I lost my two most loyal subordinates.”
“……So, revenge?”
Syrio’s words dripped sarcasm. Yet Julie didn’t deny it.
Revenge.
Probably revenge.
No grand creed or conviction needed; her feelings toward Deculein now were simple vengeance.
A blaze hotter than a volcano.
“Yes. I want revenge. I do.”
“……”
A firm declaration. The ominous Syrio reverted instantly to normal, exuding a warm smile like clear winds.
“Alright. Then no need to clash here.”
“……Syrio. You─”
“You’ll learn everything later. I’m in that secret you seek.”
“……”
Julie’s eyes widened; she drew her waist sword.
“Knight Syrio! If that’s true, you─ Ugh!”
Whoooosh─!
A gale tore through the sealed space. Papers swirled, blinding her. When Julie flailed and opened her eyes.
“……Syrio.”
Ilayde knight Syrio had already vanished.