I'll Die, I Guess (1)

The inn where Roban had once stayed. But there was no blood on the floorboards. ‘Because I cleaned up after myself perfectly.’

I stared at the mirror Roban had been looking into and muttered under my breath.

“A ruined life, madness, the craving for ascension.”

Words that symbolized Roban, who had tried to kill me. The most important thing when using Rorschach was imagination, followed by the corresponding mind control. So planting this kind of self-suggestion was more than enough help.

Even so, I kept every nerve stretched taut, scanning for any presence around me. Yagnus, who cooperated with the Crown Prince, was still one of the Demon King’s top executives no matter how you looked at it. And he was the incarnation of one of the unbreakable Six Swords that concealed the Demon King’s heart. No matter how well he hid his presence, there had to be a limit. If he came near, I was certain I would notice.

…How much time had passed?

‘…He’s coming.’

Sure enough, goosebumps began to rise across my entire body. An ordinary person might not have felt even this, but it was as if my body was tightly bound to the tracks while death itself came racing toward me.

I didn’t panic. Instead, I drew out the power I had prepared. I couldn’t let the time I spent in the Bruised City go to waste. Everything had been done for this very moment.

“…Rorschach, bring forth the labyrinth of the mind.”

[“Remember this, Master of Steel. You must finish within ten minutes.”]

Then—

Shaaaaah—.

The mirror before my eyes shattered, and the alien substance of the otherworld wrapped around my body. This wasn’t an illusion. It was something that truly existed in another world. In that instant, my appearance transformed into the exact image I had imagined: Roban, who had successfully killed me.

Krrrk—.

In perfect sync, Yagnus revealed his form without restraint. A face wrapped in bandages. Demonic wings. Truly a repulsive sight. No matter how finely he dressed, he couldn’t hide his hideous essence.

‘This is the first time I’m seeing a Six Sword in person.’

The creature approached without the slightest suspicion and spoke to me in a raspy, metallic, loathsome voice.

“Lord Roban.”

First stage, success. It seemed he didn’t find this outer appearance suspicious at all. No. Any intelligent being would be incapable of thinking that in the first place. Because…

‘Anyone who looks at me would see someone who just had a brutal fight with Yohan.’

My left arm, severed cleanly. My entire body covered in frostbite from the bitter cold, with almost no skin left unpeeled. My once-handsome face was now fused to the bone as if it had been exposed to radiation. The only clues that this was Roban were his distinctive purple hair and that obnoxious aura. But wasn’t that enough? After all, that was all Roban had ever possessed.

“Lord Roban…?”

While inwardly cheering, I deliberately said nothing in response to his call. Instead, I focused hard on thinking angry thoughts. The concept I had decided on today was a fool consumed by rage. With a face like this, it was only natural to be furious, wasn’t it?

“You reported that the mission was complete, so I came to hear the progress report.”

“…It succeeded.”

“The evidence.”

He extended his hand toward me. In other words, he wanted me to show proof that I had killed Yohan.

“Show me the evidence.”

But of course there was no evidence. Because I was still alive. So instead, I turned the tables on him.

“…Evidence? Haha. Ha, hahaha—.”

I let out a bitter laugh, as if the question was so absurd I could barely ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠contain myself.

“Look at this severed arm of mine.”

I thrust out my arm. Then I touched my body.

“My face, every inch of skin… Does this look like the face of someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who crossed the line of death and came back?!”

“……….”

He seemed displeased by my evasive attitude and simply flapped his wings once.

“The scroll you gave me was certainly enough to freeze Yohan. But even then, that bastard didn’t die.”

Fortunately, my admittedly poor acting skills didn’t trip me up. At the very least, he simply listened quietly to my words.

“That lowly northern bastard followed me to the very end, and I, who had nothing left…”

“…It sounds very much like you failed to complete the mission.”

“No. I fought desperately and managed to drive a blade into his heart.”

‘Now.’

I grabbed him by the collar.

“I know you look down on me. But I worked this hard.”

“Release me.”

“I ended up like this because of your request, and now you’re saying you can’t even trust me when I say I couldn’t recover the corpse?”

“If you continue to act without manners, I will kill you.”

At that moment, I felt a killing intent so intense it was almost tangible. The difference between species. A sensation a human could absorb like a sponge soaking up water.

‘—Okay. That’s enough.’

If I were really Roban, I would have tucked my tail between my legs by now. If there was one thing I knew, it was that. So I naturally lowered my head and crouched down.

“…Sorry. But the rest will be taken care of with time.”

Yagnus brushed off his clothes as if he had touched something filthy and straightened his appearance before speaking.

“Time will take care of it, you say.”

“…I threw the body in a place where many people pass by, so someone should find it soon.”

That was exactly why I hadn’t prepared any physical proof to show him. Everything had been calculated.

“If an article or rumor spreads about the Top Student of Sigmund’s Death, that in itself will be proof, won’t it?”

“……We shall see. However, if you have lied, the consequences will fall upon your family.”

Oh, so he was talking about collective punishment. Go ahead and try. They aren’t my family anyway. But there was no real need to worry. The Vankite who would trigger that collective punishment would have his body and head separated within the next few weeks.

As soon as I finished speaking, Yagnus abruptly tossed a pouch at me.

Clink—.

“This is one ten-thousandth of the treasure possessed by my superior. Still, this much should be enough to change the life of a baronial family’s third son like yourself for a while.”

I took the pouch like a man obsessed with money. It was what Roban would have done. Besides, who in their right mind would refuse free money?

“When is the next request…?”

Yagnus seemed satisfied by my immersed performance and let out a raspy, metallic chuckle.

“It depends on my master’s will. I will visit you soon. You have worked hard, Roban von Sorbe.”

Then he turned into iron powder and scattered away.

‘Did it work…?’

He definitely possessed absolute vision, yet he really hadn’t noticed until the end? Or had he noticed, but after witnessing such a bizarre phenomenon, he went to report it to his master? Such questions kept rising, but they were no longer my concern. At least I had done my best. This matter had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠already left my hands.

When I checked the time in the room, eight minutes had passed. I had succeeded with two minutes to spare.

“Hoo…”

I let out a deep, heavy sigh.

Now, I was officially a dead man. No one could see my face. Of course, I was confident I could pull it off, so it wasn’t a major worry. But as for the young lady’s matter… Even though I had given permission, my worries hadn’t completely disappeared, so I had taken out a few insurance policies.

‘I’m counting on you, Cryan…’

He was the first person I had used a favor on and brought to my side. I didn’t doubt Cryan’s abilities, but now that I had asked him, I could only hope he would do his best.

‘She should be starting about now.’

So I would do my part as well.

Whoosh—.

I jumped out the window so no one would see me and hid in the darkness. Before causing a commotion at the academy, creating evidence of my fake death was a task that rested in these very hands.

Karalin von Vitagarte entered a room inside Sigmund that was rarely visited by anyone. It was the Room of Remembrance, where portraits of past student council presidents hung. A kind of historical archive that preserved the faces of people from as far back as two hundred years ago.

“…Lord Gorgo.”

She had come to see the portrait of her ancestor.

Did she remember? The words her father, Rexas, had spoken when he drove her out to the academy.

‘I have decided to send you to the academy. To Sigmund Academy, the place where our progenitor once studied.’

The name of the progenitor her father had mentioned was Gorgo von Vitagarte. A great senior who had come to this academy several hundred years before her, and her collateral ancestor. He was the younger brother of her direct-line progenitor…

Back when the North had been forced to kneel before the Empire, there was a time when he had been taken hostage to this academy in place of his direct-line sibling, the heir. In a way, he had been in exactly the same position as her. But Gorgo had been different. Born in the North, he had even served as student ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠council president… and as the closest ally and comrade of the ‘Hero’ of that era, he had succeeded in sealing the Demon King’s heart.

Well, after sealing the Demon King, he had gone missing, but Lord Gorgo’s legend still lived on in the North.

That was precisely why… she had never come to see this person’s portrait until now. It was simply because comparing herself to him was too painful. Even though they had received the same contempt and the same humiliation, one had walked their fate straight and become a hero of the world, while the other could only crumble and cry to Yohan here. When comparing the two, wasn’t it obvious that Lord Gorgo was far greater?

But even so.

Today, for the first time, Karalin had come looking for her ancestor’s portrait. It wasn’t for anything special… She simply wanted to ask for help and pray that she could become a strong person like him. This was an attempt to face her own weakness. Since Yohan was about to do something big, she had to respond in kind.

“O sleeper beneath the snow, I stand upon the path you once walked. My shadow falls upon the ground where your sword once lay. May my steps continue your will, may my blood not tarnish your name—”

A northern prayer to honor the dead. Karalin unconsciously recited it, then closed her eyes. She took out the Oblivion Flower from the pouch she had brought and inhaled its tasteless, odorless scent into her lungs.

“Yohan, see you later.”

Just as the plan she had spoken of required. Thinking of the memories she had to forget.

Then—

“…Huh?”

She had forgotten.

“…Why am I here? Have I not been sleeping well lately?”

She had forgotten it all cleanly. The effect of the Oblivion Flower was more powerful than she had imagined. This was a place the Karalin who felt ashamed of herself before her ancestor would never have come to, yet when she opened her eyes, she was standing here.

In this incomprehensible situation, Karalin discovered Gorgo staring down at her with a massive presence… and then noticed the flower in her own hand.

“Did I come to offer flowers to this person…?”

But there was no way the her who was ashamed of herself would do such a thing. If some change of heart had occurred, why couldn’t she remember it? It was strange. Far too strange, yet she could not find the cause.

So Karalin pressed her throbbing temples for a moment, then placed the Oblivion Flower in front of his portrait without further thought.

“I should head back. If I ask Yohan, he’ll know. There’s no way I would have come here without telling him.”

Thus, she could only turn around and return to the dormitory.

…….

And that scene was being watched by the reconnaissance spirit that Cryan had summoned.

“Good. You did well, my lady.”

He murmured to himself.

“…Please allow me to show you the reward for trusting this Cryan, Yohan.”

Was voyeurism a trait engraved into the genetic information of the Karlank family? The two brothers were both watching Karalin, albeit from completely opposite standpoints.