Chapter 367
Chapter 367
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 367
Chapter Title: Pleroma, My Home
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“…….”
Ismailov showed even less reaction than Heike. He didn’t look shocked by my words or glare at me like I was out of line. He simply stared at me, lips firmly pressed together, his eyebrows softly furrowed.
“Did I miss the mark?”
I smiled as I asked, and only then did Ismailov lower his gaze. I looked at the red blinking light under his glove.
“That warning tone is too loud. Your heart rate keeps exceeding the baseline, causing this nonstop. Doesn’t that make you think anything?”
“…….”
“Well, you might feel flustered, or resent having to use an artifact like this, or want to avoid the situation, or find it burdensome that my seniors keep visiting… Honestly, doesn’t it annoy you that I’m saying all this right in front of you?”
And that was just the surface. Digging deeper, let’s rethink the meaning of “Messenger of the Covenant.” It meant he held a position like the cult leader of a heretical sect. Someone in that spot could live leisurely their whole life, and at least be treated with honor as a “prophet,” right? Yet here he was, handed over single-handedly to the Empire by Pleroma’s leadership, his magic restricted, his vital signs transmitted in real-time to the imperial government, and unable even to step outside this room alone. What kind of treatment was this for a cult leader figure? Even if the Empire had to be wary of him, shouldn’t Pleroma at least ensure their so-called “Messenger of the Covenant” wasn’t subjected to this?
Every clue pointed to one thing: in handling Ismailov, only Pleroma’s leadership’s will had been reflected, not his own. It was all irrational. And that alone gave us another piece of information.
Still smiling and twitching my eyebrow for Ismailov, who wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“To be honest, I have no idea what you’re expecting to make your heart race like this. My only hypothesis is that this is all new to you. Like, maybe it’s your first time making a friend your age, or even just having a simple conversation, or eating a meal on the surface away from the adults watching you, or holding a book you picked out yourself….”
I trailed off and closed my mouth. Now Ismailov was looking at me again, but I couldn’t return it. I cast a meaningless gaze at the intricate weave of the carpet.
“Even if that’s true, I still don’t get why you reacted so strongly when I got close. Sure, you probably didn’t expect me right in your face, but why? Is that really so shocking?”
“…….”
“Then it hit me—I remembered hearing about how you handled that berserker. Do you have a record of killing anything just by reaching out? Or was it simply your first time seeing a peer up close, and you panicked?”
Either way, it was insane. The words felt utterly unreal even as I said them, so I had to suppress the urge to laugh it off. Right now, more than ever, I needed to be genuine. Even if he was the enemy, this was the choice that avoided needless crimes.
Naturally, he answered not with words but with his eyes. He just stared steadily at me. Unable to interpret it, I held his gaze before returning to the main point.
“What do you want me to do?”
“…….”
The first alarm, fine. But after the second and third, I got it.
Anticipation. Of what? To most people, it’d be nothing big. The peer assigned—meant to play with—or monitor him had come, making him glad, and he hoped we’d spend time together somehow. I hoped my guess was wrong. Regardless of personal likes or dislikes toward humans, if this was true, it was bitter.
“I can only conclude that you want to be friends with me. I don’t know why I caught your eye. I have hypotheses, but they’re just guesses—nothing certain. Still, that one thing you said, that I pleased you, is clear, so I’ll boldly say you want to be friends with me.”
Now I understood how bold those words in the interrogation room yesterday had been. Why he’d hesitated at my first statement. He’d never had a chance to voice his thoughts, so he didn’t know when to speak or if it was safe to say to an enemy. Interlocking my fingers, I said.
“Even so, as I said earlier, I can’t be friends with Pleroma.”
The truth of my statement didn’t matter. I said no more, and dozens of seconds passed in silence. Ismailov’s eyes were calm. The signal from the heart-rate artifact quickened. Now I eyed the one glowing on his neck. I’d seen firsthand in the hospital how much mana-control tech was on him, but this made me worry his mana might burst. I smiled at what was clearer than any answer.
“But if it’s not Pleroma, that changes things.”
Boom—crash!
I deflected the soundproofing spell shards and dodged sideways. Leo, who’d shattered the soundproofing, stared at Ismailov with a hardened face.
“What were you talking about to spike his heart rate like that?”
The accelerating signal must’ve caught his attention. Mecklenburg stood with arms crossed, just watching us. Albertina Hohenzollern waited calmly. Narke, already knowing Ismailov wanted to befriend me, stood by coldly. Elias and Leo looked the most confused here. Leo, temple pinched like his head hurt, approached me.
“My thinking was short-sighted. Let’s go back. If I’d known….”
“It’s fine. It’s just starting.”
I looked him straight in the eye. Leo furrowed his brow to speak, then shut his mouth and looked down at me. I nodded to reassure him and recast the soundproofing.
“You are the one preparing Pleroma’s salvation. Your very existence inspires Pleroma and prophesies their victory. For now.”
“…….”
“We can’t trust you. Pleroma is wrong, and we can’t support you empowering such an organization. That’s why I decided I couldn’t be your friend. So.”
I continued, gazing into Ismailov’s artificially blue eyes.
“You must cease to be Pleroma. If you still want to be friends with me after hearing that, then answer. What is Pleroma to you?”
“…….”
Ismailov’s pale lips stayed shut, unmoving. Long after, still the same. Only the wind from the balcony overlooking the lake garden fluttered the muslin curtains. Nothing but that silence.
As expected, getting him to open up on this topic was tough. Or maybe he couldn’t accept that Pleroma must end, or hadn’t judged Pleroma at all so had no answer, or had one but withheld it to avoid offending me….
“Home.”
“…….”
I slowly raised my gaze to his eyes. No tremor in them. I parted my lips, stared, then smiled. Anyone else hearing would find this deeply troubling.
“Good.”
The word “home” wasn’t key. The signal that it was okay if Pleroma ceased—that was vital. Whether loyal or not, he didn’t think he had to devote himself to Pleroma. Whether staged or natural, we’d see.
“Honest answers please me. If you’d given an answer suiting our tastes here, I’d have been disappointed. You don’t seem the type anyway.”
I finished, glancing at the files Leo had investigated.
From now on, caution in talking to him. A misphrasing could make him see it as “Answer my questions, and I’ll deign to be your friend.”
Clarify. I wasn’t playing with him because he answered. Nor graciously offering friendship out of pity. I wouldn’t sell my feelings for info, nor trivialize the weight on one person’s heartbeat. Emotions aren’t transactional. He needed to know and feel that. Starting with the wrong button would make any relationship feel fundamentally flawed. Who could predict the fallout? Short-term candy-coating was nearsighted, the fastest way to ruin infinite potential. Thus, melt everything into a genuine bond—the best way.
“Can you give me certainty?”
“…….”
“I don’t think you can break from Pleroma in one go. Your fate is tightly bound to them now, and no one can easily dismantle it—whether you chose Pleroma willingly or not. So now, I want certainty from the root.”
Ismailov blinked. Watching his eyes, I chose words carefully. “Can I trust you?” Pointless. He likely lacked even self-trust, maybe didn’t know what trust was. Whatever he answered, verification was on me—same effort. Use basic, direct talk he’d grasp. Even if easy to fake.
“Do you intend to harm us?”
“I don’t know.”
Even to a question anyone would reflexively deny, this answer. I could guess why. Shaking my head, I asked again.
“I want the answer your heart gives, not what leadership or adults dictate—unpredictable possibilities aside. Don’t you know which way your true feelings lean? I’ll ask again. If you truly don’t know, say so. Do you want to deal with me and these people per Pleroma’s will?”
Ismailov closed then opened his eyes slowly, as if weighing the words. He scanned the mages from me to the room’s edge. His gaze ended back on me. After studying my face long, blinking, he answered flatly.
“No.”
“…….”
Good. Staged or sincere, now he shared will with me. He didn’t seem strategically minded, but this resolve would drive him while under my care. In short: clearer goal and future gave incentive for earnest talk.
Now, one last safety check. I hadn’t wanted to quantify a heart, lest it hinder true talk, but given who he was, necessary. Deep breath, I opened his favorability window.
“…….”
Seeing the number, words failed. My mind blanked on what to do. Minutes passed—I don’t know. Staring blankly at the glowing number, I slowly focused on the eyes behind it.
“…Good. Shall we go for a walk?”
* * *
“You’re out of your mind.”
“You say that to me a lot.”
Ignoring Leo approaching like he’d grab my collar, I gave a hollow laugh. My back chilled. Glancing at the balcony railing against it and the lawn below, I confirmed I was surrounded. Leo, undaunted, tilted his head mockingly.
“A walk? With Pleroma, who shows weird reactions to you?”
Hm. No intent to defend Ismailov. I barely knew him, and was still figuring him out—no grounds or will. Before I could speak, Leo pressed again.
“He might not just want simple friendship. He’s obviously off.”
“Well, isn’t he like Heike? Why go so far….”
Elias chimed from behind, and Leo whipped around.
“You taking Pleroma’s side?”
“No, I don’t like him either, but we haven’t talked properly, don’t know his background, so I don’t wanna judge rashly. But… uh, yeah, the alarms were pretty intense~”
Elias grinned, waving as if to say get on with it—pushing Leo’s last thread. I signaled Elias for quick backup, but he kept chugging his beer. Seeing Leo’s cold face return, I conceded meekly.
“Your judgment, got it. Honestly, I half-agree.”
Leo clutched his throat, staring skyward. I might not hit the ground first—weight on railing me, or high-blood-pressure Leo. I quickly added.
“But not the direction you fear. This one’s on me, no doubt.”
“Joking? How are you sure?”
How? You, who’s only predicted romance till coming here, ask me? I’d spot such signals first—faking emotions realistically was my job. Plus, non-work experience, I’d outdone you. We’d had similar talks last year….
“…….”
Catching Leo’s signature “bullshitter” look, I sighed.
Whatever, favorability check shifted my thoughts. Ismailov reacted like Heike, but clear difference. Yesterday’s initial read (to log it) vs. today’s mid-talk: night-and-day gap.
Too stark for “just wants friends”—more extreme than Heike’s, pre-deep talk even. System hid the popup fearing shock? Right call. Most shocked I’d been.
‘Can’t over-rely on Heike’s case.’
Similar but different person, different reactions. Severely isolated, so short genuine talk left deep impression possible. Still, not normal rise—better hypothesize. No room for Leo/Elias/Mecklenburg’s worries.
What spiked it? Must pinpoint for future prep.
“If so worrying… even if true, is it worth? Worst case, ask Narke how Ismailov sees me. He might answer.”
Leo stayed sullen-eyed, unresponsive. No good. More practical reason—half-motivating me.
“Can’t leave Ismailov to those sentry mages all day. They’ll report today’s events to gov. Plus, gotta ask what you investigated.”
Ascanien locking Ismailov, brief visits… grounds for reprimand. So tea time, play, read, silent meditation—whatever, I needed long time with him.
Leo sulked, then asked resignedly.
“Why that face at the end?”
“End?”
“You froze up.”
Favorability moment. I shook head.
“Just. Was gonna mention with you guys anyway, but now no need…. Anyway, call Narke to check yours.”
“Fine. You’ve reasons.”
Hm? What’s with him? As I went to pat “good thinking,” Leo scoffed, face saying drop it.
“Honestly, least trustworthy time.”
“…….”
* * *
Only this bastard talks to me like that.
Not ancient human, new human royal high schooler trash-talking ancient twenty-something? Unacceptable.
‘…Putting up with it ‘cause new human high schooler body.’
“Fun picnicking with Pleroma at dawn.”
Elias teased Ismailov from behind. Me, Elias, Leo, Narke, Mecklenburg, Ismailov—we strolled Nymphenburg Palace. Didn’t want seniors, but for heart alarms risking alerts, brought easy-handling one. Half-forced, Mecklenburg looked unhappy.
Anyway, we’d spread out lakeside suitably. Narke smiled at Elias. I turned to Elias.
“Said no need, yet you follow. Mecklenburg-senior and Narke enough.”
“That’s why must. Humans want opposites of said.”
Elias shouldered bag, laughing. Glass clinking? Leo and I scowled; Elias waved “look ahead.”
Long silent walk, lake appeared. Nights now warm enough. Watching black waves, I lightened mood, tossing Ismailov anything.
“Ever fished?”
“No.”
Eyes exchanged. He answered even trivia? Hiding surprise,
“Right. Fun, pity. Try at river sometime.”
“Yes.”
Ismailov answered promptly. Elias wide-eyed, signaled me. Me too, amazed.
We sat spot not atmospheric but fine. Mecklenburg, imperial mage rolling in dirt endlessly, eyed grass displeased.
‘This guy unpredictable.’
Ignoring his “no mat?” I bantered trivially with Ismailov long, then key question.
“Curious thing.”
“Yes.”
“You called Pleroma home.”
“Yes.”
Auto yes/no bot, but huge progress. Anyway, rethink. Older than 13-year Pleroma. Thought Pleroma brewed mana for new human? Age off, human-making imperial gov-only. Emperor-safety guarded tech; if stolen, no need kidnap imperial kids—make own for blood.
Age and duration clear: Pleroma picked existing kid. “Gabriel brother” not blood—different ethnicity obvious. Pleroma-named “Michael” means common bond later.
Yet acts long Pleroma-raised. First-time-everything reactions evidence. Mind-tampered? How? Narke couldn’t easily.
“How lived before Pleroma?”
“…….”
Heavy, silence. Might need repeats. Quiet stretched; Elias blurted.
“He our age, right.”
“Yeah.”
Already “he”? Glanced Ismailov—staring ants blankly, relieved. Short-lived. Glass sound; Elias slammed beer down. Leo/Mecklenburg jaws dropped.
“Hey, you…?!”
Elias gulped, pulled more glasses. Narke soulless smile visible.
“Not close yet, so quiet. Right? This perfect for bonding kids.”
“What?! Not goal friendship… whatever. Pleroma or not, negotiation guest—minimum safety, know?”
“Don’t.”
Elias patted Leo perfunctorily. Mecklenburg gawked maniac-eyes us, pondered alone, nodded enlightened. I gripped shoulder, soundproofed.
“Senior agreeing what?”
“Mecklenburg Excellency knows something.”
Guessed from action, pre-break. Elias grinned, offered Ismailov glass. Ismailov eyed it then Elias wordlessly.
“Let’s see how much Pleroma’s Jesus drinks.”