White Dwarf (3)
Babalk wanted only one thing right now: the complete annihilation of the demon race. But was that truly all? The root of his hatred toward the demons ran much deeper than that. Escaping the human farm might have provided sufficient cause, yet it alone would never have transformed him into an old man so consumed by extermination. The true origin lay in the agony of not knowing whether his own daughter had been dragged into that horrific place and killed, or if she somehow still lived.
That was why the news I had delivered to him served as a weapon in its own right. This eerie old man had spent our every interaction seizing my weaknesses and driving me relentlessly to fulfill his desires. The reversal of our relationship required nothing more than this single piece of information.
I would not ask him to release Jurchen. I didn’t like it, but at least the dragon-kin had committed a clear offense. On the surface, they had even dressed it up beautifully as a suspension coupled with volunteer service as a tower keeper—an elegant form of detention.
Yet one person stood apart.
“In exchange for Frau’s location, grant me one request.”
“...Speak.”
“The student who served as Karlandel’s forest keeper—Hilkenvesta Transibist. Release her from the underground.”
“She was your junior, wasn’t she?”
Yes. The damned junior I had scouted myself.
“Her imprisonment may have been for investigative purposes, but that timeframe has long since expired. She must be freed.”
“Well, I agree she’s been locked away far too long. Given the sensitivity of the matter, Montgomery is likely debating whether she’d make a suitable scapegoat to bury this incident.”
“Disgraceful. During Sigmund’s zero-point forest training, she performed her duty as forest keeper without fail. She saved the students and allowed them to preserve their positions, yet that man possesses no honor whatsoever?”
To my righteous argument, Babalk offered a curt assessment without hesitation. Words that defied the emperor and his bloodline. Poisonous syllables that would not end at mere execution. It was contempt.
“...Those bastards fawning over that fucking dog of a crown prince are all the same. Blind idiots who mistake such behavior for heaven’s mandate. They don’t even understand what truly matters.”
“You openly scorn the heavens.”
“In the current situation, it is a heaven that can be hidden behind one’s palm.”
Birds hear words spoken by day, rats hear those spoken by night. Anyone concerned with their own safety would never utter such things. The fact that he said them in front of me proved that Babalk cared about nothing—nothing—beyond the total destruction of the demon race.
The inhuman conditions he had used to threaten me stemmed from the same mindset. He viewed me not as a human being with emotions and a story, but as a tool to achieve his objectives. To someone interested solely in slaughter and ruin, both I and the emperor were nothing more than background scenery.
“In that case.”
There was no reason I couldn’t use him in return. Unlike others, I felt no reverence for his research or academic standing. I was not crushed by his achievements or reputation. When interests aligned, there was nothing in this world I could not demand in full and suck to the marrow.
After all, I had already been contemplating the possibility of guiding this world down an entirely new path. A new sun born from the death of the old one… precisely the White Dwarf. If I could gather every godhead, it might be possible to create a sun belonging solely to humanity.
Of course, that would require extensive investigation into Solart. Sharing such thoughts with Babalk at this stage would be premature. Yet if we pursued it, our ultimate goals would become identical. His purpose and mine were mirror images—the only difference lay in method.
What I demanded of him was simple.
“From now on, you will become my sponsor and assist in dragging down the chairman, who is nothing more than Vancite’s pawn.”
“...Oh?”
“For that, we need two-thirds of the faculty.”
The consent votes required from the professors to replace the chairman.
“Gather two-thirds of the faculty and have them cast their votes for the candidate my side nominates.”
Gathering them would fall to Babalk. What good was being the top professor? Aside from Casacos, I was hardly beloved by the faculty.
“You already intended to become my sponsor the moment you uttered the word Hero, didn’t you? You will certainly weigh performance reviews, but I can show you something that more than meets your standards.”
“Hah, Yohan. You speak as if it’s only natural that I could accomplish such a thing.”
Don’t talk nonsense. Of course it’s natural.
“In Sigmund, which functions as an independent city, you possess at least that much power, don’t you? Dare I ask—is there anyone in this city, including the chairman, who holds greater influence than you?”
On the table in his office lay a map depicting Sigmund’s entire layout. Hidden paths to various facilities and encrypted notes about installations of unknown purpose were marked across it. Such a thing did not belong in the office of a so-called “mere professor.”
I pointed at it with my finger—a warning not to brush this aside with casual laughter.
Moreover, beyond these two demands, I had one absolute line that could not be crossed.
“Furthermore, all of this is the bare minimum that must be granted first.”
“...You’re adding more conditions?”
“Yes.”
I spoke each syllable with deliberate force. “I will not become a Hero.”
“That’s—!”
“I say it twice. I will not.”
Why was I behaving so outrageously? The reason was simple, the logic straightforward. If I’m already beating them thoroughly, why add unnecessary steps? That was it.
“Stop whining. Even I don’t fully understand the source of my power, but it functions perfectly against the Six Swords, doesn’t it?”
“...I’ll grant you that. But unlike Yagnus alone, it remains uncertain whether you can maintain your sanity after devouring all of them.”
“If it’s uncertain, then probability exists. However, should I accept the Hero system, I would inevitably submit to the Moon God’s so-called ‘blessing’—which is truly ‘domination.’ I have not the slightest intention of doing so.”
I issued my ultimatum.
“I must live my own life. The joy you experienced in your later years with the woman you loved—I want to feel that as well.”
“...I see. It’s not that I cannot understand such a desire.”
“Then why did you threaten me this way?”
“Because you are not me.”
“You’re fucking selfish.”
“Humans are inherently selfish creatures. If our positions were reversed, you would have done the same.”
This monstrous man strangely displayed subtle understanding whenever family affection entered the conversation. Of course, I still despised being asked to sacrifice myself for his twisted version of love.
“In any case, if you refuse this condition, do as you wish. Spread those trivial weaknesses you believe you hold over me. Indulge yourself.”
“...Tsk.”
“However, if you do so, you will never locate your daughter, who continues to suffer even now. Because I will ensure it.”
Only then did Babalk finally yield.
“Fine. Fine… I lose, you devilish bastard.”
“Devil? That is what I should call you.”
“Whatever.”
Babalk, too, presented a condition.
“However, you must continue capturing the Six Swords. You will show me tangible results at regular intervals. That is the minimum demand from me, the one being used by you.”
To his words, I merely shrugged.
“And I hope none of what you said was a lie. Well, the moment you knew Frau’s name, it was clear you possessed something…”
“I guarantee it upon my honor.”
It might have seemed a simple matter, but remarkably, this was the first time the old professor of destruction had ever bent his will. Anyone who knew him would faint from shock if they learned the truth.
He extended his hand. Though reluctant, I took it. With a dry, artificial smile, he said,
“To you, who have now become my proxy, I have a gift.”
“…A gift?”
“Follow me.”
He pressed several buttons beneath his desk. With a heavy clank, a small wardrobe beside us swung open, revealing a passage leading elsewhere.
What bizarre thing was he planning to show me? Suspicious yet curious, I followed.
“The Six Sword you froze—Asparug.”
“...So that’s where it went.”
“Seeing a hero of the past with my own eyes is a first. As a pure student apart from my role as instructor, I felt only awe. Yet now, having had his body stolen by a Six Sword, he is nothing more than Asparug.”
Pale skin. A straight, upright frame. Blue hair. But unlike the young lady, this was a neutral, short-bobbed beauty of androgynous appearance. It was Gorgo, trapped within the ice.
“Still, it is fascinating. How did you manage to obtain the S-rank relic that the Vitagarte royal scholars created by pooling their knowledge during the Great War?”
“Ah, you mean the scroll. That… there were methods.”
He shook his head.
“Well, never mind. That isn’t what matters.”
Babalk simply stretched out his hand and pointed at the frozen Gorgo I had created.
“Devour it.”
“...Why must you make this so burdensome?”
“Isn’t it a perfectly prepared meal? I’ve completed all my research. I no longer need a physical specimen of a Six Sword like that.”
“.........”
“At this point, it would be far better for it to pass to you.”
But to those words, I wanted to say two things. First, Gorgo was not a “guy” but a “woman.” Second, it would be too wasteful to devour and erase her existence.
Why? Though we were causing a commotion here now, we would eventually have to return to Vitagarte. In the North, she was revered as a hero. Her very existence served as a living justification. A justification to prove that the great cause and rightful power lay with us.
‘...Even in that fleeting instant, you chose to freeze her.’
Anyway… to the me of that moment, I could only say this: Well done, Yohan.