Chapter 261
Chapter 261
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 261
Chapter Title: How to Survive as the Second Son of a Magical Noble Family
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No matter how great a general Hannibal had been or what accomplishments he had racked up before, this time it was Hannibal's defeat. Should we see this as the god of fate refusing to lend him a hand? Or as Hannibal's blunder in underestimating Crispinus?
"…I."
A voice, muffled and buried in emotion, continued.
"…I must not have properly gauged your true worth. Maybe… I even hoped it would turn out like this…."
"……."
Lu Bar's cold hand slid from my shoulder to my wrist. Out of his mind, he gripped it hard enough to crush the bones. His eyes shook wildly, unfocused.
"If it had come too easily, it might not have been fun. It would have left a bad taste. Was this the best my chosen opponent could do? Of course, I truly hoped you'd surpass me and gave it my absolute all…. But right now, at this perfect moment, you've shown me…."
He buried his face in my shoulder.
"You're the best."
"……."
"As expected, you're my greatest rival. You asked why my feelings are directed at you. Don't you know the answer now? You once said to me, 'If you're looking for someone to compete with, it doesn't have to be me.' Do you finally get how utterly clueless that was?"
"Ha…."
I couldn't help but burst out laughing in disbelief.
'He's mistaking rivalry for love.' That was the question I'd posed the first time we met, on that date in Pleroma's world.
Just as I'd thought back then. With his towering narcissism, he doesn't see most people as equals. He loves himself too much not to love only those who leave him in awe.
'Should I feel honored by this?'
Now I had the answer to the question I'd asked him earlier. Why had he held 600,000 lives hostage for this terrorist game? Obviously for the payoff. And from this scheme, he'd gleaned one more thing. Through this terror, he'd tested once again if it was okay to love me.
This situation, where I'd seen through his strategy, paradoxically amplified his love in the end. Or rather, his madness.
Still buried in my shoulder, he murmured.
"You're the only one who can rival me. …And I should be the only one who can truly rival you. I have to be the only one who can make you take the game seriously."
He panted for breath, then chuckled as he slowly straightened up. Looking down at me, he said.
"How was it? Was the game I made at least a little fun? Doesn't it finally match your level?"
"Fun? Holding 600,000 lives hostage?"
"No, no. I must have undervalued you too much. I should have pushed you deeper into panic… put even more effort into crafting it."
"You should be the one to get a grip on reality."
Put even more effort into this?
I was honestly curious how that would play out. Strategists like him aren't exactly a dime a dozen.
That brought to mind the strategic showdown between Catacomb Chairman Simon Everhart and Max Lichtofen over the Catacomb-Pleroma alliance.
Max Lichtofen is a brilliant strategist too. But this terror incident had kept me in a state of heightened alertness far more intensely than that time when Lichtofen had used me as a tool against Everhart. For the entire month of February atop his scheme, I hadn't let my guard down for a second.
And….
"You're too hung up on the world's moral standards. Be honest. You enjoyed it too."
"No."
I gave a curt reply to the mad ramblings playing like background noise and stared up at the pristine white ceiling.
I wanted to know more about his strategies, his mindset as a leader. But since he's in enemy territory, I absolutely didn't.
As I'd thought before, we could have been great friends. If only our beginning had been a little more ordinary.
"I love you."
The nonsense droned on like background noise, and at that moment, a nauseating phrase wormed into my ear.
"Since it's just us, let's be honest. No one else could ever understand us but each other."
"……."
"You know why. We're surrounded by all those people, but we don't belong anywhere. That's our fate."
Didn't I hear something like that somewhere before?
Listening to his trembling voice, I smiled faintly.
"The world moves too slowly for us. It suffocates. You've felt it too, haven't you? That sense that you're going insane because your pace doesn't match theirs? Sure, I might be crazy, but from your perspective—have you ever felt like the odd one out because our speed is different? Why don't my thoughts get through to them? Why do I have to pour my soul into even communicating with them? Have you ever tried so hard to fit in, thinking it was you who was wrong? We…."
His cold fingers wrapped around my neck from behind.
"In this bizarre world, we've finally met someone who lives at the same pace as us."
This bizarre world.
Not Seltsame Welt, but Wunderland. Even now, I knew he was quoting Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and I let out a hollow chuckle. He was playing a game with me right this instant. The ecstasy and madness in his eyes made it far from strange, but to him, this moment was no different from the peaceful days we'd spent over the past ten days. If anything, it thrilled him even more.
"To each other, we're not the weird ones. In this exhilarating moment, what should I do?"
"Sorry, but I've heard lines like that from someone else too."
From Abraham.
At those words, the archbishop paused his hand stroking my neck and looked at me. His face showed not jealousy, but simple curiosity.
"You acknowledge that person too?"
"……."
He meant, did I accept Abraham as a worthy rival.
If I were brutally honest, I could understand the intent behind what both he and Abraham had said to me in their pleas for empathy—we can't be understood by the outside, nor can we understand it, and only we can fully understand each other. That understanding unsettled me.
Not that I agreed with their other ideologies. Abraham believed that the superior, in whatever way, deserved commensurate value, while the inferior could be treated with discrimination, ignoring their basic rights—and while he never claimed it was ethically right, he saw it as an inevitable result for maximizing future welfare. Our positions were polar opposites.
But that one phrase they both uttered—I could grasp it, wasn't completely alien.
It was about the categories of normal and abnormal, and the obsessive self-reflection and subsequent frustration that minorities inevitably go through. About how even 'good' abnormalities—like eidetic memory accepted as a socially beneficial trait—turn into double-edged violence for the individual. The archbishop and Abraham hadn't delved that far, but we all knew the essence of that plea: 'Only we can truly understand each other.'
It wasn't something I could ignore. Abraham's attempt to create a religion leading the old humanity, starting from Primrose Pass, wasn't entirely unrelated to that turmoil, even if it wasn't the primary cause. He treated the white flock he couldn't understand as inferiors, dreaming of a world of black sheep. That's where Abraham's eugenics ideology stemmed from.
How could someone like that not be my enemy? That's precisely why I had to recognize him as one.
"I do. He gave me real trouble."
"…Ah, I'd love to meet him someday."
The archbishop chuckled.
"If we get out of here alive, let's go see him."
"Can we get out alive?"
"Haha, and you think you can kill me today?"
I couldn't help but laugh at that response.
We were both in the same boat.
I had before me the man who'd set Pleroma on the path to revival, and he had Pleroma's nemesis right there. Neither of us believed we could easily kill the other.
Of course, neutralizing him completely without killing him—making it as good as dead—would be preferable. I had no intention of creating a second Werner Strauch or a second Ainsidel.
So….
"Let's negotiate first."
"Negotiate? Go ahead."
"From today onward, don't use innocent lives for your gains."
"……."
But that wasn't the end. If he yielded here, I'd have more demands.
For example, 'Retire from Pleroma and live elsewhere.' Having someone of his caliber in enemy territory was nothing but a liability for me.
Of course, it was a negotiation that would never fly. It was all downside for him. Someone who could stomach that wouldn't have terrorized 600,000 people to begin with.
I was just giving him a choice.
The archbishop slowly raised an eyebrow and asked.
"And if I do? If I agree, will you join me?"
"Join you? In what sense?"
"Quit this tiresome world entirely and go live peacefully somewhere. How about it?"
"Weren't you just enjoying the fight? How am I supposed to take you suggesting we seclude ourselves together?"
"It's possible to want two incompatible things at once. After too long a life of bloodshed, you start craving peace…."
"You'd inevitably return to lands soaked in blood. Fighting is in your nature—you couldn't endure without it."
"You're the same."
"……."
For some inexplicable reason, the archbishop gazed down at me with gentle certainty.
Just then, a faint vibration hummed through the table.
I shook my head and smiled.
The negotiation was over.
Kwaaaang—!!
The white marble ceiling seemed to collapse as fragments of the cathedral roof appeared. A thick floral scent rushed in. The white lime table I'd been lying on had reverted to the one used at the engagement ceremony earlier. It was covered in spatial magic, so that was to be expected.
Beyond the archbishop's arm, propped against the table's edge, I saw several familiar faces. The moment he turned to look at them, my eyes went to the restraints binding him and me.
'Hm.'
One more thing to convey.
Leo, leading the Bavarian Kingdom Army's mages, had his wand trained on the archbishop. Yet his gaze was fixed on me below.
I narrowed my eyes at him, sending our prearranged signal.
Don't cast magic right now.
The spatial magic's dissolution had scattered massive amounts of mana into the air, shocking the restraints' limiting spell.
What did that mean?
It meant the archbishop had been channeling all his power into a transformation spell at every moment. The simultaneous internal and external shocks had disrupted the restraints' field.
'No wonder he'd keep trying to transform.'
The stats I'd gleaned from Lu Bar's status window were dismal, excluding skill values. That's why I'd kept him bound in Lu Bar form.
In contrast, the archbishop's physical stats were comparable to Ainsidel's, varying by category. Beyond just wanting to look good for me, he had every reason to desperately try to revert.
Leo, who had been staring at me impassively, flicked his gaze up to the archbishop—to Lu Bar's face. A cold voice echoed through the vast cathedral.
"You're not quite what I heard."
"…Ah~"
The archbishop snapped his fingers and narrowed his eyes.
"Direct-line Wittelsbach. At last. I hadn't paid you any mind since I had no interest, but you're really looking at me…. Is our blood composition similar or something? This is important talk."
"Come out."
At Leo's words, the archbishop rattled his own restraints. A gentle smile played on his face.
"How can I when my fiancé won't let go of my hand? I'd love to oblige His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, but it's difficult."
"Get up and step away."
"Reasons not to use mana? Don't just stand there—why not thrust out your wand?"
His tone toward royalty lacked any real respect.
Pistols were visible at the Bavarian mages' waists. But whether following protocol or improvising, they wouldn't use them now. There was always the chance the archbishop would use me as a shield. Thanks to that +8 skill stat, Lu Bar was more combat-proficient than me.
The archbishop murmured into my ear.
"Your friend's sharp. You must have signaled him… but to catch on that quickly."
"Hm."
"He figured out that if mana spreads in the air now, I'd use it to escape. Right? I thought I'd revert to my true face only once your reinforcements arrived, but you're masterful at crushing hopes…. But you know."
Before the warning countdown even finished, Leo gestured. The mages, who had been approaching step by step while watching the archbishop, charged toward us. The archbishop slipped one hand inside his jacket.
"As much as I respect your excellence, you should…."
"…!"
Kwachik—
My right hand flew at him, but it was too late. The pocket knife pierced my carotid and the skin beside it. The stabbed skin burned like fire. Blood scent. The moment I felt my blood's mana dispersing into the air, human teeth tore into the punctured skin. A gulping sound followed. In that instant, I saw shock spread across Leo's and the other mages' faces. The archbishop licked his lips and said.
"…Your mana capacity is impressive. I trust you didn't underestimate me too much."
Kwaang—!
A fierce stomp echoed as platinum hair cascaded down, ornaments undone, whipping before my eyes.
Kwagwang— bang—!!
Deafening impacts assaulted my ears. Leo, signaling the attack, thrust his wand forward. The world flickered black repeatedly, so I couldn't see clearly. The archbishop drew his wand from the holster behind his cheek guard and aimed at Leo.
The Bavarian mages' attacks clashed against the archbishop's barrier, lights bursting endlessly. The archbishop blocked the onslaught with a light smile, turning only his head toward me.
"I'll cleanly admit my first defeat. But…."
In a split second, his eyes passed over the wand I had aimed at him and fixed on my face. Smiling, the archbishop said.
"We've got to play best of three. Don't you think?