I Became the Mastermind Leader of a Dark Fantasy

The highest floor of a lavish mansion. In its most extravagant room, a man grown grossly fat trembled, the color drained from his face.

"They were former A-rank knights, those soldiers!! And every one of those mercenaries was top-tier B-rank!!"

The man scrambling to hang artifacts of the highest grade over his body was named Louis Gafelt.

He was a viscount of the Babylonia Empire — a capable merchant, and a kindly noble.

Or rather, to be precise—

"Did those gutter-rat bastards go and get their tails stepped on while they croaked!? Damn it, who is it? Who's broken in? Did the families of the ones I kept locked up band together and hire a mercenary from the Continent's 10 Strongest!?"

He was one of the leading figures of a corrupt coalition of nobles: a man who only pretended, on the surface, to be a paragon of virtue.

Metal clinked. A short, thick hand, fattened on greed, dug through the glittering interior of a vault. A transcendent-grade necklace of regeneration. A mythic-grade ring of magic nullification. A mythic-grade necklace of aura absorption. And more besides. They were the spoils of battle he had received in exchange for sponsoring the Hero Party. Artifacts that would have been a lifetime's dream to anyone else poured out like water and wound themselves around his body.

"Good enough. With these...!!"

Viscount Gafelt was an A− rank mage. It was not a realm he had built through training, but one he had bought by pouring money into himself — and yet the fact that he was A− rank did not change. And now, with the situation turned to emergency and five artifacts of mythic grade or higher hanging off him, Gafelt considered himself to have reached S-rank.

His preparations ended at just the right moment. From beyond a door lacquered over with countless protective spells and barriers, the intruders' voices carried through.

"Shall I go in first and start cooking? Whatever they answer, you'll be able to hear it right away."

"Cooking? Don't be vicious. Asking nicely will be more than enough."

"Hmm...?"

"Enough. Just open the door."

Gafelt ground his teeth, downed even the elixir last of all, and fixed the door with a sinister smile.

"...I'll kill you."

If they were men, he would tear their limbs off and mount them as ornaments underground. If they were women, he would smear their bodies with honey and throw them into the prison below, already packed with the starving. As he was now, even a mercenary of the Continent's 10 Strongest could be shaken off with ease. They're coming.

Fists clenched, stance awkward, Viscount Gafelt was just about to loose a seventh-tier spell in time with the breaking of the protective magic—

The latch jumped.

"...Huh?"

The door opened.

The defensive magic wrought from an S-rank scroll worth a fortune beyond measure, and the eighth-tier barrier he had begged the Hero Party's Great Sage to lay — neither bought him so much as a second. They shattered, scattering with the fragments of white mana.

"Uh, uhhh...?!"

No. Stay calm. Dull of body he might have been, but Gafelt's mind turned quickly. He abandoned any thought of fighting them and was already reaching for words that might bring them over—

"Hello. You're Gafelt, aren't you?"

Death descended.

"Ghk— gaaahk, I can't— my breath, hhh, don't, don't come!! Haaahk......!! I can't breathe......!!"

A thousand blades seemed to flay his whole body, and a cold hand closed around his heart. The source of the terror stood before his eyes.

"You said you'd ask nicely, Captain."

A thick perfume of blood. White clothes soaked red. Madness flooding from the eyes. Behind the woman, hideous dolls — as if pounded together out of corpses — stood in ranks, twitching as though they might lunge at any moment.

But it wasn't them. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠horrific fear crushing him now did not come from the woman.

"I think that was plenty nice."

A dreadful baritone that crawled into the ear. Hair that rippled with a sinister gleam. Deep black eyes that held an abyss.

This one.

The monster who drove a man to such extremity of terror that he would rather vanish into a speck—

"Ah, aaaah...!! Haaaaaahk!!!"

Against the thick darkness swallowing him whole, Viscount Gafelt's body thrashed toward life. Pupils blown wide in an instant. Legs flailing as if he were drowning. Trousers soaking through. What was I thinking, with a monster like that in front of me — not running, but daring to attack, daring to try and win him over? I was born knowing there is no escape from primal death, and yet—

"Kgh, gaaahk......!!"

He was only being looked at, and still the terror pressed him down so hard that he tore at himself and wailed. And so — how many seconds passed? How many hours? How many days?

Retching in the depths of that terror, Viscount Gafelt jerked his head up.

Better to die.

The only way to escape that monster was to take his own life. And that way—

would be happier.

A slack, helpless smile crept onto his face before he knew it. In the instant he meant to dig out his own heart—

The fear that had seized his entire body vanished all at once, as if someone had grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up out of a swamp. And immediately after—

The black monster's whisper.

As has been said, Viscount Gafelt's body was heavy, but his mind turned fast. A warning surfaced — words from the archbishop of the Aria Church, who had bankrolled the gutter rats alongside him.

The conversation rose in him unbidden, and Gafelt's mouth opened on its own.

"I knew it, hhh...... I knew it was you!! Th-the Emperor's mad dog, Black Wolf!!"

He barely wrung the shout out of what breath he had. The man's brow crumpled hard. Watching that reaction, Gafelt grew certain of the theory he had built.

So it really is Black Wolf. But what did being right change?

"...Do you mean to make me ask twice?"

The dreadful voice, and those abyss-like eyes, were still exactly where they had been.

"I-I'll talk!! Our plan, and everything we've set in motion for it — all of it!!"

With the terror of death fresh in him again, Viscount Gafelt's mind spun to its limit. I may be the lowest elder of that place, but I'm not wholly ignorant. So if I hand over what I know of the Emperor and the Hero, and ask to be taken into Black Wolf in exchange...?

......Could I survive?

A hunger for life flooded that greed-fattened face all at once.

I can live!

A faint hope, blossoming out of absolute terror, forced Gafelt's mouth wide—

"We of Eclipse — the truth is, the Emperor—!!"

—and burst him.

Only then did Viscount Gafelt truly understand.

You will understand, when the time comes.

What the archbishop had spoken of was not the fear of Black Wolf. It was the price of betrayal.

"......What the hell is this?"

Caught in the suddenness of it, Nahan stared blankly at what had been Gafelt, and Ruby flushed hot in an instant and cried out in ecstasy.

"Kyaaa! I just fell in love all over again!! Thank you for the gift, Captain!! That was you, right!?"

It wasn't me, you lunatic.

He remembered a conversation with his only friend, from before he had come to possess this body.

And now, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠present.

"We of Eclipse — the truth is, the Emperor—!!"

Boom.

A person really had laughed until they burst.

"......What the hell is this?"

He was still staring, dumbstruck by the absurdity of it, when Ruby — who had thrown herself in front of him at the instant of the blast and taken the shower of remains in his place — flushed crimson.

"Kyaaa! I just fell in love all over again!! Thank you for the gift, Captain!! That was you, right!?"

It wasn't me, you lunatic.

The words surged up his throat, and he swallowed them. He was glancing around, trying to get a grip on the situation, when a bright chime rang and a blue-green system window rose before his eyes.

A notice that he had cleared the damned subquest, Blood-Stained Gold — and that an additional reward would be calculated.

"Hold."

The moment he murmured it, the window vanished, and moonlight spilled in again. ......I lived. The tension left him, as if a blade had been lifted from his neck.

...I'm not as shaken as I thought I'd be.

He had killed hundreds on the way up. A man had exploded right in front of him. And still his mind — Nahan's mind — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was as calm as if this were an ordinary day.

Well. C-rank or not, he is a mercenary captain. For mercenaries who had to stake their lives as a matter of course, a scene like this would have been everyday fare.

"Oh!? It's moving! It's still moving!! What is thaaat!! So cuuuuute!!!"

......Look at her.

An A-rank mercenary. Of course she was even further gone than he was.

Either way, this is a gain for now. Nothing guaranteed that another subquest wouldn't appear, so until every bad ending had been stopped, staying this calm was for the best. In the end, he resolved to adapt completely to the life of the mercenary captain, Nahan.

Eclipse, the Emperor, an Ex-rank skill...... I'll sort out what I've gained once we're back at the hideout. First, the cleanup.

This world was short on science, and had magic in its place. He had heard that mages could reconstruct a scene — even what had happened before it.

What do I do?

Until now he had only worked his members like dogs and loafed around the hideout, so he hadn't the faintest sense of how to clean up a slaughter on this scale. A sigh escaped him.

Just turn myself in and wait it out in prison?

This was the fourth bad ending I've blocked...... But why was the name Black Wolf?

At this pace, every bad ending would be stopped within a year.

No. Are they going to execute me before that?

No answer came, however he turned it over, and he was left simply staring at the wreckage. There was a soft click. Ruby slipped something into her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pocket, looked up at him, and asked, bright as anything.

"Captain!! Shall we do that now?"

"That?"

"Yes! If we're going back, we have to clean up!"

Clean up? He asked it evenly.

"You can make it like it never happened?"

"Of course! It's been a long time since I infiltrated the Mercenary Alliance and stopped traveling with you, Captain, but cleanup was always my job!"

Well, she was an A-rank mercenary. There would be a way. The confidence in her voice let something in his chest unclench before he noticed.

"Then I'm counting on you."

"Okay! It should be done in about an hour, so rest a little, Captain! And from here to there — you lot, guard the Captain!"

"......It's fine, urp— forget it."

"Oh, don't say that! Of course my babies are weaker than a single scrap of your flesh, Captain, but appearances matter!"

We already killed everyone. Who's left to see? Even so, he wanted to get back quickly, so he nodded.

"Then!"

A clap. At the sound of Ruby's hands meeting, some hundred dolls of flesh stirred and began to clean.

"All of you, use your erasure magic properly! We're burning it anyway, so swallow the big debris first!"

The dolls scattered red mana into every corner as if spraying it from a mister, tore away the bloodied pieces, and swallowed them until their mouths split.

His mind could pass for steady. His stomach could not. He turned his head and looked away.

"An hour, though..."

The timing was exact. He called up the system window where the reward was written once more.

Viscount Gafelt was a man who barred the mansion doors after ten at night, for the sake of his pleasures. Ruby had raised a barrier when she infiltrated, and the dolls were standing watch......

I'll check it now.

Knowing the original story and not knowing it would be the difference between heaven and earth, if he meant to survive. He perched on a sofa that had caught relatively little blood and pressed accept. His eyes slid shut.

A little late, but let's have a look. Just how well-written does a story have to be, to drag a person in and put them through all this?

And so, an hour later.

"......Son of a bitch."

Having taken in the whole of Babylonia and the Setting Compendium, he lurched up from where he sat. He had to run.

This is no time to be dreaming of a slow life...!!

Even if he could never return to his original world, even if he had to live out his life in this one, he needed to abandon everything and flee to the farthest place there was.

"A D-rank mercenary corps, my ass — this is just telling me to drop dead...!!"

Fury surged up, and the words ground out of him before he could stop them. That was when a presence stirred beyond the closed door.

A knock. Then another, and another, and another.

"Captaain? Are you awake?"

"—!"

He clamped a hand over his mouth and pretended not to be there. Useless, of course.

"Cleaning's all finished. I can come in, right?"

A creak. The door sounded ready to open at any moment, and he snatched his hand away.

"W-wait, just a moment, please— no. Wait. Do not come in. Absolutely do not come in, Ruby!!"

"Ah......? Oh. Yes. Yes! Captain!"

It would look sudden — suspiciously sudden — but he had no choice. Because—

He had just learned that he was not, in fact, a C-rank mercenary, but the leader of the worst mastermind organization in this godforsaken dark fantasy novel.

And above all—

"......Captain?"

—he had just learned that the unhinged woman out there suspected him.