Chapter 42
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Companion
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'How am I supposed to confirm that?'
Her question scattered emptily into the air.
A calculator whirred nonstop in my head. Dimensional Stone. The one and only ticket out of this world.
In the past few days, I'd scraped together every game memory I could muster.
There was a 99% chance it was holed up in the ancient ruins near the Abyss entrance.
But the road there was a bona fide hellscape. Magical beasts were just the start—poisonous plants and traps to boot.
Adella alone couldn't hack it.
Even as an elite Imperial knight, protecting me while bulldozing through that forest solo was next to impossible.
One knight and a totally useless party member? Party comp like that was a disaster.
Game rule: screw up your party setup, and trash mobs would steamroll you before you even sniffed the boss room.
And there she was, right in front of me: Lilia von Argent.
In the game, she was a legendary-grade companion. "Magic Swordsman" class—a hybrid wielding swordplay and spells in tandem.
Growth potential through the roof. Proper leveling and gear, and she could dismantle mid-boss heavies like Eldric or the cult's top dark knights one-on-one. A monster.
The catch? Recruitment hell.
Strategy boards agreed: even persuading her to flee right before Argent territory's fall took a solid month of affinity grinding—and that was pushing it.
But now? Deposed emperor me, her with utter contempt. Affinity deep in the negatives, basement levels.
Yet here she was, walking right in. Hooked on the "army" bait.
'Gotta leverage this.'
I lifted my teacup to wet my lips. The bitterness stung my tongue, snapping my mind into focus.
"How to confirm, you ask?"
I flashed a deliberately relaxed smile and rested my hand on the table. Drew in the aura of [Persuasion (Lv.2)].
This wasn't mere sweet-talk. I had to pierce her logic, her reason—to forge an ironclad justification she couldn't refuse.
"We go together. To that spot where the army's camped."
"Do you even know where it is?"
Lilia snapped back, sharp as a blade.
"Got a hunch."
A lie. No clue on the army's spot. But I knew prime Dimensional Stone turf.
Ancient ruins. Vast, secretive—plenty of room for an army to hole up undetected.
"But it's dangerous. Magical beasts crawling everywhere, paths a nightmare. Couldn't dream of tackling it solo—but hey, you showed up just in time, miss."
My gaze drifted to the sword hanging at her waist.
"Argent swordsmanship and magic? That forest trail's gotta be a cakewalk for you. A stroll in the park."
Flattery. Easiest pride jab. Lilia's eyebrow arched faintly.
"Treating me like some sellsword, are you?"
"Nah. A partner."
I straightened, shaking my head firmly.
"You're hunting the army. Me? I..."
Paused. Couldn't spill about the Dimensional Stone.
"I'll just verify command of that army. Call it a shot at honor restoration. Find 'em, and command reverts to the Empire. Imperial law. Deposed or not, I'm still blood of the throne. Won't betray the Empire."
I leaned forward. Layered on the persuasion mojo.
"..."
My words hit heavy. Not deposed trash—legitimate heir to imperial legacy.
The [Persuasion] skill lent real weight to the bluff. Lilia's eyes flickered. "Empire" was her kryptonite. Argent house: eternal shield of the realm.
'Course, they never guessed the Empire's survival rode on founding emperor blood.'
"Command rights..."
she murmured.
"But you're deposed."
"Deposed and still imperial blood. Sole direct descendant of the founding emperor right now."
I hammered it home.
Lilia bit her lip. Pros and cons churning in her head.
Finding the army—that was her mission here.
Better odds parading emperor lineage than solo forest crawl.
Records showed her house had deep ties with them. Probably favorable.
And Batanias wasn't looking half bad anymore.
She sighed deeply.
"Fine."
She looked up. Blue eyes glinted coolly.
"One week."
One finger extended.
"I'll tag along for one week. No leads? I head back to the territory. Acting lord duties, you know."
"One week. More than enough."
I whooped inwardly. One week'd get us Dimensional Stone-adjacent.
Adella, who'd been listening, cut in.
"Your Majesty, you sure? Deep forest's no joke."
Worried gaze on me. Ever softer since that chest massage fiasco days back.
"Relax, Captain. Got ourselves some heavy backup now."
Chin toward Lilia.
"And you saw—the outskirts are safe. No beasts."
Adella wavered, then nodded.
"True... eerily quiet, yeah."
She bought it.
"Settled, then?"
I rose. Chair scraped across the floor.
"Pack up. We roll out tomorrow morning."
Lilia set down her cup and stood. Cloak billowed.
Then she casually tidied the floor.
'Not just some pampered noble miss, huh.'
Companion acquired. Inner grin.
The top floor office of Sage Tower reeked of scorched mana.
Bluish motes floated in the air, twinkling amid shreds of torn parchment—Queen Helena's sealed missive—before drifting to the floor.
Rustle. Crinkle.
Each whip-crack of purple mana from Elder Sage King Eldric's gnarled fingertips reduced the thick letter to dust.
Faint shrieks of snapping paper fibers clawed at his ears.
"That bitch."
The curse leaked dry and gravelly from Eldric's lips. No trace of a near-century-old archmage's dignity—just raw street-rat fury.
He gripped his staff tighter. Arthritic knuckles blanched white, popping audibly.
Magic corps wiped out.
No mere flop. A warning. Bald killing intent from whatever crouched in the Black Forest's depths.
Handiwork too precise—mage circuits shredded clean, lives spared as message. Beyond human finesse.
'Abyss Guardian.'
Eldric dredged the term from memory's dusty depths, buried under ancient shelves.
Shadows safeguarding the Empire's darkness since founding emperor days. Dismissed as myth—but real.
He shuffled to the window, glaring at his reflection: withered, ugly mug. Sagging skin, liver-spotted cheeks, gray eyes lusting with greed.
"Ordinary forces won't even glimpse Batanias."
Muttered at the black night sky beyond.
Abyss.
Records' apocalypse: unleashes when founding emperor's line dies out.
World ends, life snuffed to darkness. Eldric? No fear.
Nay—he'd seize the ruin. Finish his magic enslavement amid the chaos?
Rule the dying world, however briefly, as god incarnate.
"Yes, Abyss... Batanias dies, it breaks free? I'll claim my grand ambitions first, then go."
Back to the desk.
Hence, Plan B: Queen Helena.
Roselia's young, sharp mage queen. Lured her to Sage Tower on "magic expedition" pretense.
Tantalize her arcane curiosity. Use as bait to drag Emperor Batanias here.
Officially, he was her puppet prisoner. She'd summon, he'd come.
And midway? Enslave her magically?
Youthful beauty, potent mana flesh. Just imagining breaking her, puppeteering her queenly form—revitalized his decaying husk.
Reply? Slam-dunk rejection.
No polite turndown—venom laced every line. "Old man's delusions." "Know your place." Pride shredded.
Old Helena? Courteous no. Now? Insults piled on.
Time for hands-on.
Eldric slammed his staff. Mana rippled, shaking the room's air.
Lichdom? No. Trapping soul in rotting undead husk? Peasant black mage trash.
He craved dominion as living man. Batanias had to go: slain to rouse Abyss, or Oath Room neutered.
From deep drawer, a vial emerged.
Elixir of youth? Nah—mana booster. Surged instant usable power.
Price: ten percent of remaining life. But scant time left anyway...
"Wait..."