Chapter 118
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 118
The Custoria mansion was quiet. From the outside, it almost looked like an abandoned estate.
Whir.
I stepped out of the aerial vehicle.
Giselle stood alone at the airfield, without a single servant. Normally, custom dictated bringing along a few vassals or attendants.
As I looked around, Giselle spoke.
"Everyone's busy, so I came alone."
She gazed up at the sky as she said it. My eyes followed hers.
The sky was as gloomy as ever. Still no sign of the Storm Era.
"Because of the storm?"
"We have to prepare the mansion. When the storms get bad, we can't even use aerial vehicles."
I looked at the warehouse behind the mansion. There was a lot of movement over there—it seemed they were stockpiling supplies.
"Where is the Captain?"
"Isn't it about time you started calling him Father?"
"It doesn't roll off the tongue yet."
I stepped up beside Giselle. We walked along the path toward the mansion, taking the long way around through the garden.
Step, step.
Our pace was slow, but the walk was short.
"The Lower District is in complete chaos right now because of the recent parade incident. I'm telling you because I thought you should know. Gilda and Gabriel... told me not to go down to the Lower District for a while."
Giselle spoke as we reached the front gates of the mansion.
As expected, things have gotten dangerous.
My identity and history had been fully exposed to the public. It had reached the point where I'd have to cover my face just to walk around the Lower District.
Naturally, Giselle had to be careful too. I'd already been worried about Barbara, so in a way, this was for the best. The Custoria mansion was safe.
"How are people reacting now that my identity's out? I mean, on Gabriel's side."
I asked casually.
"Gabriel seems a bit angry. Gilda, on the other hand, seems rather pleased. She has this way of looking at you like you're some kind of prince."
I gave a bitter smile.
"Giselle, do as Gabriel and Gilda said and stay out of the Lower District. The timing's bad. Gilda's smart, so she'll handle the business on her own. Besides, you can organize the data from here anyway."
"But... No, you're right. We have to be cautious."
Giselle's lips lingered, as if she had more to say. Then she reached out and opened the mansion door.
Creeeak.
Unlike usual, the main mansion was bustling with activity. They were truly hard at work preparing for the storm.
Given the location of the Custoria estate, the commotion made sense. The mansion sat on the outskirts of Akbaran, on terrain accessible only by aerial vehicle. They had to stockpile enough supplies to last through the entire Storm Era.
"You performed magnificently, Lucaus. I couldn't be prouder. Forgive me for not visiting you in the hospital. The circumstances didn't allow for it."
My adoptive mother, Eva, said as she looked at me. She was issuing orders to the family servants, every bit the matriarch of the household.
"I only did what had to be done."
She and I always spoke in a businesslike manner. Both of us had long since given up on any emotional bond.
"...Never forget what must be done. Your father is at the Silver Moon Pavilion. He asked me to let you know the moment you arrived."
Eva's words carried a sharp edge. She was probably telling me to know my place. Still, resentment and jealousy seeped through her tone and gestures.
The Silver Moon Pavilion.
It was a sacred space within the Custoria family. Even her own son, Jupe, was barred from entering—yet I visited the Silver Moon Pavilion frequently.
It almost felt... as if I were the true heir of the Custoria family.
"Then I'll see you at dinner."
I stepped back, putting distance between myself and Eva. I gave Giselle a parting nod and walked away.
I headed for the back door of the mansion, passing through hallways crowded with servants.
"Ah, Young Master. It's been a while."
"You've achieved a great feat."
The servants and vassals bowed and greeted me the instant they saw me. I returned polite, customary nods and quickened my pace.
By now I knew the mansion so well I could find my way with my eyes closed. At first, the estate had seemed endlessly vast and daunting.
No matter what anyone says, it was Heilas who dragged me all the way here.
My debt to him was immense. I could easily steel myself to kill Kinuan. Doing the same to Heilas would not be so simple.
"Luka, let's talk for a moment."
The voice was harsh. It belonged to Jupe.
He was leaning against the wall by the back door, arms crossed. From the look of it, he'd been waiting for me.
"I can't right now. I have a prior appointment with 'Father.'"
Jupe's face twisted into a deep grimace at first. But then, as if letting go of his hostility, he lowered his arms and spoke calmly.
"I know I'm a pain and a nuisance to deal with, but please—spare me some time."
He was asking so earnestly that it was hard to brush him off.
"We can talk on the way to the Silver Moon Pavilion."
"That's enough for me."
Jupe nodded and opened the back door. He held it open, waiting for me to pass through first as a courtesy.
...It was a departure from his usual hostility. Something in Jupe seemed to have shifted.
So I didn't rush my steps either. We walked along the path from the back of the mansion toward the Silver Moon Pavilion.
"I'm a soldier too, Luka."
"I know."
"Something's off. The atmosphere lately is strange. If even I can feel it, then I figure you must know something."
Jupe was no genius. But he was no fool, either. He was just an ordinary man, the kind you could find anywhere—a man who envied and resented what he lacked, yet knew when to make peace with reality.
Anyone with eyes could predict a gloomy day just by watching the dark clouds gathering in the distance. It didn't take any great insight.
That was exactly how things stood with the Empire and the military. Dark clouds were gathering.
Having devoted himself to the military, Jupe seemed to feel that indescribable unease too. And Heilas likely hadn't given him a proper explanation.
"A storm is coming," I said simply.
"...You're close to Father, and you get along with Giselle. So even though you're adopted, I trust you feel some attachment to the Custoria family."
I stopped walking. Jupe stopped beside me.
"This is my home now. Whether I like it or not, I consider you family, brother."
It was an embarrassing thing to say aloud, but it needed to be said plainly—because I truly meant it. Even if I disliked Jupe, I didn't want him dead. The same went for Eva.
"I dislike you too, but I consider you part of the Custoria family. If a crisis falls on this house, I'll gladly cooperate with you. And I expect the same from you."
Jupe extended his hand for a handshake. It was a request for a truce of sorts.
I took his hand gladly. Meeting my eyes, Jupe gave a quiet nod and let go.
Family.
Whether we liked or disliked each other didn't matter. We belonged to the same group. When an outside enemy appeared, we had to cooperate—regardless of our usual relationship.
"Father's waiting. Go on."
Jupe saw me off and turned back, retracing his steps.
I left him behind and headed for the Silver Moon Pavilion. Its weathered front door was left half-open, as if waiting for me.
Knock.
I rapped lightly on the door and stepped inside.
"It's Lucaus Custoria."
I saw the stairs leading up to the second floor. Heilas was standing at the bottom.
"Ah, good—you're not late. I'll explain as we go up."
I didn't understand what he meant by not being late. Heilas simply said it and led the way up the stairs. As he stepped into the second-floor hallway, he continued.
"One of the elders is waiting for you."
"For me?"
"Do you know who it might be?"
A single figure flashed through my mind. Back when I was adopted, two of the Silver Moon Pavilion's elders had opposed it, four had stayed silent, and only one had voted in favor.
"It must be the one who cast the sole vote for my adoption."
A memory from long ago surfaced. It was the elder who had gently touched my cheek.
Child, please survive for a long time. To do that, you must not be swept away by chaos—you must swallow it. Even if it tears your throat to shreds.
Those were the words that elder had spoken to me. Looking back now, it seemed they had known something. It had never been just about the life of an adopted child from the Lower District.
"Their life is coming to an end. They don't have much time before they pass. They're holding on through sheer willpower alone."
Something in a corner of my heart eased.
The reason Heilas had summoned me to the Silver Moon Pavilion was different from what I'd expected. Honestly, I'd even braced myself to be interrogated.
"Vaguely... I always thought nobles with full-body prosthetics were immortal. Even knowing they could die once their lifespan ran out, it never felt real."
Even with a full-body prosthetic, one eventually dies of old age. I knew it in my head, but it hadn't truly sunk in until now.
"Luka, I don't know much about the elders myself. Even to them, I'm nothing more than a child. But one thing is certain—the Custoria family has endured thanks to their wise counsel. Always listen to their voices."
"But the choice is ours to make. As is the responsibility."
The wrinkles around Heilas's mouth deepened. He seemed satisfied with my answer.
At the end of the second-floor hallway stood an antique door. It smelled of aged wood.
Creeeak.
Heilas and I entered the room.
The air was thick with incense smoke. Beyond it stood the elders, wearing black veils. Their pitch-black robes dragged along the floor, as though swallowing even their own shadows. If ghosts could be seen with the naked eye, I imagined they'd look like this.
There are seven elders.
But only six were standing. They kept a solemn vigil at the bedside.
The dying elder lay on the bed. Countless tubes and cables sustaining the prosthetic body's life-support systems dangled from its side.
"You've arrived at the perfect time, Family Head. And you as well, Lucaus Custoria."
The voice echoed from all directions, making it impossible to tell which of the six had spoken.
"Go on," Heilas said, nudging my back with a nod. As I approached, the elders stepped aside to make room.
Wheeze, wheeze.
On the bed, the elder who had summoned me was struggling to breathe. Because the signals sent by the brain had weakened, the full-body prosthetic—modeled after a human body—could no longer function on its own.
"I heard you summoned me, Elder."
I said, sitting down beside the bed. Eyes behind the veil were fixed on me. A spark of light returned to those fading eyes.
"...Your hand," the elder on the bed said. I took the elder's hand. Even as a full-body prosthetic, I could feel how weak it had become.
Rustle.
The other elders didn't just step back—they began filing out of the room one by one. Even Heilas slipped away.
Before long, only the dying elder and I remained.
Why on earth? Why would she want a private audience with me?
Even with the intuition of Akies Victima, nothing came to mind.
The situation was far too bizarre. At first I'd wondered if the Custoria family had set a trap to kill me. But if that were the case, there'd be no reason to go through such an elaborate charade.
"Elder, is there some secret about me? Something genetic, or—"
My thoughts had arrived at a single conclusion. It was a suspicion I'd harbored before—that I might be a human engineered for a specific purpose.
Yet even on the verge of death, the elder's shoulders shook with a raspy chuckle. Her breath came heavy.
"Child, you can lay those worries to rest. The replication and control of human beings is something even the rulers who dominate the stars and the scientists who trespassed into the realm of gods have failed to achieve. Listen to me. From the days when lightning was thought to be a god's spear and volcanic eruptions were seen as divine wrath, to this era where we travel between planets and take atheism for granted—there is one unchanging truth."
The elder's words were gentle. Though her tone was flat, it sounded almost like a song.
"I'm listening."
"As always, whenever we humans encounter an irresistible force beyond human strength, we've had to lean on the chaos of the universe and pray. Inevitably, we come to believe in fate. Luka, do you believe in fate?"
My lips parted, and after a moment's hesitation, I spoke.
"Fate is unscientific. But... there are times when I can't help but sense its presence."
There are moments impossible to explain with any word other than 'fate.' Even I, who haven't lived half a century, know that. For someone who has lived several times longer than me, the word must feel even closer.
"Artificial replication is impossible. Even if two beings are genetically identical, they meet different ends. To believe human effort can create miracles is the arrogance of ignorance. But this universe is different. When the inevitabilities woven from chaos overlap, they become fate—and that fate, like a lie, ends up recreating the past. That is why I believe in reincarnation, child. Even if it's nothing more than an illusion conjured by a fragile consciousness, that is fine."
"...I don't quite follow what you mean."
"You'll understand in time. I'm glad I could see you one last time. I wish I could tell you more, but it's best to leave that as my own selfish satisfaction."
Something struck my chest. It wasn't that I was sensing fate or anything like that. It was that this person's emotions seemed to reach me—an emotion so intense it could even hold death at bay.
"If there's anything I can do, I'll do it."
If it was within my power, I wanted to grant her request.
"Keep fate by your side, but do not let yourself be swept away by it, Lucaus Custoria. That is my only wish."
I stared quietly at the elder, then reached out. My fingers lifted the veil. It was an unconscious act.
The elder's desolate face was revealed. It was not a human face, but a mechanical one, lacking even artificial skin. The elder of the Custoria family had been living while erasing their very existence.
Yet, feeling as though I already knew her name, I closed my eyes.
A causal fatalism that seemed to comprehend Akies Victima. The First Rebellion of 3518. Noel Mulrizka. And a figure of the Custoria family from that same era.
The pieces of events and years locked into place. Whenever a piece didn't fit, I swept the board clean and started the reasoning over from the beginning, again and again, until the shape of my knowledge aligned perfectly.
Blood trickled from my nose. I wiped it with the back of my hand and opened my eyes.
...Though not perfect, a plausible picture had formed in my mind. A single name hovered on the tip of my tongue, and I spoke it carefully.
"Is your name Agatha... Agatha Custoria?"
The woman who was the origin of the Custoria family—the founder, Agatha Custoria.
At my words, her eyes widened. Perhaps, if her prosthetic body had the capacity to shed tears, she would have wept.
"Though it's likely the result of high-speed, multi-angle deduction from Akies Victima... I want to believe that you recognized me, 'Noel.'"
Agatha Custoria was a woman who wanted to believe in fate and reincarnation.