Living Together. (1)
……Sometime ago, in the northwestern reaches of the empire, there was a small village. A humble hollow nestled in the hills, home to just over a hundred households living quietly together. Gerec was a country boy born and raised there.
Life there was simple and free of greed, day by day. They valued a single night's provisions over gold and jewels, a mug of barley beer with friends after a hard day's farming more than fame or titles.
……Gerec remembered the magical tsunami that stole it all. The horror of the entire village drowning was still vivid in his mind.
The screams of death echoing madly through that eternal night he could never forget. The cold groans amid the waves. The flashing lightning and heart-pounding thunder.
The skin of those who had been human turning deathly blue.
One day, a raging torrent swept away his village, drowning his family, neighbors, cousins, friends, and lover.
It was the atrocity committed by the Yukline family under the pretext of "demon hunting."
Everyone died, but Gerec survived. The sole survivor clutching a bundle of straw.
After that hellish night, the village was no longer a village but a lake—yet Gerec felt no loneliness.
Gazing into the deep bottom of that lake, he instead sensed a growing presence within his own body.
His little sister, father, mother, friends, cousins, neighbors who died that day—the personalities of all eleven family members he thought he'd spend his life with were now housed in his flesh.
The dam the Yuklines destroyed had submerged the village, but their souls would live on inside Gerec…
……But then.
"Well, was the pain of drowning at least bearable?"
Deculein's voice revived that day's agony. It scorched Gerec's sanity.
From his heart rose a dark cry.
The water-choked howls of those dying.
*
"……Madman."
Al Ross watched from the shadows. Trapped in the barrier, Deculein pressed the revolver barrel to his own temple, glaring at Gerec with a smile. The aristocratic sneer that mocked and crushed inferiors.
"Second shot."
Click—!
Deculein pulled the trigger. No discharge, but threatening mana rose from Gerec's body.
"Open your eyes, Gerec."
Deculein ceaselessly provoked him. An absurd ploy where the hostage held his own life ransom, but it would surely work on Gerec.
Gerec "must" kill Deculein himself.
He would tolerate no one else doing it.
Not even Deculein killing himself.
"……Deculein."
Gerec called his name. His gaze and tone brimmed with malice and venom, but Deculein merely twisted his lips as if facing an adorable puppy.
"Indeed. The head of the house that drowned your village stands before you."
Was this professor truly resolved to die rather than hand over the rune language to the Altar?
Even Al Ross was at a loss now.
"……Gerec. Don't fall for it. That revolver is fake."
Jaken murmured calmly. He analyzed Deculein inside the barrier with thorough magical sight.
"Whether fake or real, no one knows until it's fired."
Deculein hooked his finger on the trigger without a flicker of hesitation.
And then.
"I trust my luck."
He fired.
—Bang!
A gunshot that belied his confidence.
The revolver spat a bullet, and Deculein collapsed in a spray of crimson blood mist. A massive rupture echoed repeatedly.
……
Silence fell. Not even breaths seeped through. Jaken was stunned, and even Al Ross faltered.
"……What the."
Dead? Hard to tell precisely through the barrier, but no magic or mana interference.
But Deculein was a mage, not a knight. A mere mage enduring a bullet's lethality? Impossible.
No.
His life or death wasn't the issue now.
To Gerec, whose mind had snapped, such things didn't matter.
"Well, I never thought it'd be easy."
As Jaken muttered mournfully.
——!
Gerec rampaged. Black mana clung to him like armor, transforming him into a pitch-black monstrosity that bombarded the area.
From his mouth, hands, feet—mana erupted, shattering space. Jaken's subordinates, Altar mages and executives watching, Al Ross's puppets… the berserk beast tore them all apart.
His kicks cratered the floor, claws rent the ceiling. From his maw spewed breath-like mana blasts. That savage frenzy collapsed the underground into deeper ruins.
In that hellscape, only Deculein's barrier remained intact.
*
Her true body freed from the puppet, "Al Ross" silently surveyed the underground.
Crackling embers rose from the pulverized floor. Deculein lay as a suicide's corpse inside the barrier. Gerec collapsed exhausted at the center.
"No vital signs…"
Al Ross eyed Deculein in the barrier. No pulse, heart still.
Haa…
A faint sigh. Then she growled, approaching Gerec.
"Stupid bastard. Such a high-maintenance idiot."
This damned lunatic had smashed all her puppets, forcing her true body here.
Al Ross hoisted Gerec. Tall but skinny—not too heavy.
—Right then.
"……!"
In an instant, Al Ross sensed a presence behind her.
A grotesque chill crawled up her spine.
Shivers near terror.
She glanced sidelong at a man slowly rising.
"……My head's a bit dizzy."
That voice seized her mind. She whipped her head around.
"What…?"
Deculein.
His ghostly blue eyes glowing.
That icy gaze fixed on her.
"Al Ross."
He called her name. Instinctively, she stepped back. Primal wariness.
"Hand over Gerec."
"……What will you do?"
Deculein answered calmly, as if questioning the obvious.
"Kill him. It'll be simpler."
But Al Ross shook her head.
"I won't."
Not camaraderie or romantic loyalty. Gerec was material to ultimately perfect her puppetry someday.
Deculein twisted his lips and shrugged.
"No helping it."
Al Ross's mana took form. Blue blades lit the underground, aimed at Deculein.
She braced for battle, but he said something odd.
"No choice but to let you go."
"……?"
Al Ross furrowed her brow.
Simple logic from Deculein's view. He couldn't win by force, fighting meant loss, and his head ached…
"Let me go?"
"I'll tag along on your way out."
Deculein casually dismantled the barrier. Then brushed past Al Ross's shoulder carrying Gerec.
Whoooosh——!
The collapsed underground was sealed, but Deculein carved a path with Telekinesis. Wary but following, Al Ross trailed him.
"……How did you survive? No magic. Your pulse stopped."
"Controlling my body is simple."
That was all Deculein said.
Soon surfacing, he spotted Al Ross's car. Mercedes-class luxury by modern standards.
"You drive. Put Gerec in the trunk."
"……"
Al Ross complied for now. Deculein took the prime seat naturally; she gripped the wheel.
"Hm…"
She glanced at him via rearview.
Posture, expression, attire—all elegant and composed. Astonishing for someone who'd just staged a suicide.
"Let's go."
As if she were his secretary.
Al Ross clicked her tongue and drove.
As the smoothly cruising car entered the paved road from the empire's border shadows.
Al Ross asked.
"……Deculein. Was that human talk? Asking about drowning's pain."
"……"
Deculein smiled silently.
Gerec and Yukline's grudge was obvious lore, ripe for exploitation. But not all bad—Kim Woojin knew how to clear the quest saving Gerec from his chaos.
"More importantly, did you leave the ring from my auction at home?"
"……"
Al Ross smirked and nodded. Her true body exposed, nothing to hide.
"It'll suit you well."
But his every word burrowed under her skin, laced with hidden intent.
A way of speaking that sowed doubt, made one feel small. The "Intimidation and Dignity" trait at work.
Then.
Knights blocked the road ahead. As Al Ross stopped, one approached.
Peering at the driver's Al Ross, he spotted Deculein in back and gaped.
—Professor Deculein?!
Deculein nodded; the man raised a fuss.
—He's here! The professor is here, right here!
That instant.
Al Ross saw it. Beyond the windshield, a massive figure slowly rising.
—What? Professor Deculein?
Phairden's head, Zeit.
Zeit von Brugan Phairden.
At that monster's appearance, Al Ross's hackles rose. Four years ago, the only knight to traumatize her.
—Where.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Strides thrice ordinary men's. Shaking his snow-white hair, Zeit approached like a ghost or grim reaper…
"Well now, Professor Deculein!"
Arriving, he lowered the front passenger window with one hand. Stuck his face in, eyeing Deculein and Al Ross alternately.
"Who's this fine lady? I rushed here on reports you'd been kidnapped—surely not an affair?"
As Zeit scowled, Al Ross sensed her doom.
One word from Deculein here.
Her skull would burst like a melon under Zeit's fist.
'That snake… foresaw even this…'
All she could do was glare at Deculein in the mirror, cursing her hasty compliance.
"An affair? Unbefitting."
Deculein spoke.
Al Ross pondered if she was puppet or true body. Never had she wished so desperately to be a doll.
……But.
"She is merely a passerby I encountered en route."
She heard the words, but comprehension lagged.
Zeit asked again.
"Passerby?"
"Yes. Her car happened by, so I requested a ride."
Al Ross couldn't fathom Deculein's intent. But before she could speak, he exited and addressed Zeit.
"Now that I've met you, Lord Zeit, she may go."
"Oh ho. Quite the beauty. Almost a pity to let her leave. Already got some knights smitten."
Al Ross forced a bitter smile at Zeit's sly remark.
That insane 210cm monster bastard.
"Hey! Clear the way!"
Soon knights parted the road. Al Ross drove slowly, glancing at Deculein in the side mirror.
Deculein watched her recede.
……Five minutes later.
Parking on the shoulder, Al Ross steadied her breath, eyeing Deculein's former seat.
A letter and crystal orb lay there.
She read the letter first.
Al Ross.
Do you know? Though chaos's form is unknowable, it is not purely malevolent.
Gerec is surely part of that chaos, so leave him in your care. Devise a better path than death yourself.
Think of this crystal orb as our link. It seems we may make decent partners.
— Deculein
Reading the handwriting, Al Ross narrowed her eyes.
"……What scheme is this."
The tension coiling her body slackened.
Psychologically, no one since Zeit had cornered her like this. Sharing space with Deculein, that moment itself, was burdensome.
"Inscrutable bastard…"
Intimidation drawing one into the abyss. Beneath overflowing aristocratic poise, a monster baring fangs, size immeasurable.
"……?"
Suddenly, Al Ross spotted a hawk perched on a branch, staring at her. A finely crafted familiar.
"Kidnapping report, huh. He filed it."
Meeting her gaze, it flapped away. Al Ross hit the accelerator.
* * *
……My plan was straightforward.
Reinforce the barrier solidly, provoke Gerec, and while the deranged beast rampaged, slip away leisurely.
For that, faith in "Iron Man" and a technique to blunt the bullet sufficed.
I trusted Iron Man's performance, but the revolver's power was a revelation. Without a faint mana net over the muzzle, I might have died.
Should've gotten shot before.
Anyway, then I used Iron Man to artificially slow my blood flow, nearly stopping my heart to enter apparent death.
Even a furious man-eating bear—Gerec—ignores corpses with live prey nearby.
"Professor. Any daze or headache—"
8 a.m.
The brief incident resolved, birds chirping in peaceful morning.
"None."
I shoved aside the doctor probing my head. No desire to expose Iron Man's body, even slightly.
"Still, a proper checkup would be wise."
Lilia Premien, watching nearby.
This place was the Security Bureau headquarters, 'Equilibrium.' Vice Director Premien brought me under protection and investigation.
"A day will suffice."
"Her Majesty worries too. See, retainers have come."
Premien shrugged aside. Behind her, an imperial retainer handed a sealed letter.
Premien murmured.
"Quite the favor you're receiving. Enviable."
"……Favor?"
I glared at Premien. She coughed and averted her eyes.
The retainer said.
"Her Majesty wishes you read it at once."
"……Very well."
I broke the seal. Two lines.
What use a teacher kidnapped? Should this recur, prepare for dismissal.
I pocketed it. The retainer continued.
"Also, by Her Majesty's will, a guard knight protects Lord Yukline."
"Guard knight?"
"Yes. For three months, classifying Lord Yukline as a key figure requiring national protection—Her Majesty's judgment."
Premien chimed in.
"Quite right. The rune language is vital magic, coveted by villains. This was somewhat foreseeable."
"Foreseen, yet unprevented?"
"……Retainer, are you leaving?"
"Yes. Then I take my leave."
The retainer bowed and departed. I muttered like a sigh. Sudden headache.
"Refusing insults the court."
"Precisely."
I glared at responding Premien. Her words grated oddly.
"I'm leaving."
"Leaving now would be troublesome."
"Troublesome how."
I ignored her, rising. Head spun slightly, but recovery imminent.
I boarded the corridor elevator. Premien followed to guide, hit first floor. Ding—!
Doors opened to lobby.
Then I understood Premien's warning.
"Ah! Professor! Are you alright?"
"Thank goodness! We were so worried…"
"Which brainless fool dares!"
The lobby swarmed ministers, merchants, executives. They questioned me, feigned concern—but craved the emperor's letter contents most.
"Thanks for worrying. Now, back to work."
I answered vaguely, exiting. In the lot, butler Roy waited with a new car.
"Master. Are you well?"
"Yes. No issue."
"Relieved."
I took the back seat.
Something felt off.
The adjacent seat wasn't empty.
I eyed the occupant. Light-armored knight.
"……What are you doing here."
Wrong car? Tilting my head, the knight replied rigidly.
"On duty."
"……What duty."
Only then did she turn. Her white eyes held me.
"I am Professor Deculein's guard knight."
Julie. Her words sealed my lips; the emperor's face flashed, cackling.
I sighed.
Clunk—
Then the front passenger door opened.
"Out already. Tell me what happened properly…?"
Yeriel this time. Sitting, she gawked at Julie.
"Who are you?"
"Yeriel. 'You'?"
"……"
Yeriel scowled silently. Julie answered.
"From today, I am Professor Deculein's guard knight."
"Guard?"
"Yes. Her Majesty's command."
"What nonsense is this?!"
Yeriel twisted her face.
* * *
……I considered asking what happened. Or if she was hurt.
But as expected, utter absurdity.
Her appearance suggested no big deal anyway, and sibling act now was laughable.
Right. Handing over the headship wasn't instant reconciliation.
Truth be told, I half-guessed why he yielded it now.
Julie.
That woman's fault.
Yeriel glared at Julie via mirror. The knight vigilant as stone. So pointlessly earnest and solemn.
"Tch…"
Sometimes I wondered. How this obtuse, rigid, straitlaced woman ensnared sensitive, sharp Deculein. Why he fell for her.
"……Guard knight means staying at the manor too?"
"Yes."
"What?!"
Yeriel startled.
Conversely, duty-mode Julie was stiff.
"Her Majesty's first order to a private knight order since ascension. Three months, so nearby until then."
"Nearby doesn't require the manor, right?"
"Her Majesty's command. Grateful for the smallest room. Commuting from my estate is too far, impairs duty."
"Unbelievable. Refused living together before, now this…"
As Yeriel grumbled, Deculein said.
"Yeriel, be quiet."
"……Who even knows who's family here? So wronged and absurd."
Yeriel muttered softly, gazing out. A hawk circled the sky, tailing our moving car.
"What's that following us…"
Today, nothing pleased Yeriel.