5. The Truth

The situation had drifted a long way from what I had first envisioned — but that was fine. Soon, the obstacle standing between Ardel and me would be gone.

The Goddess spoke to me.

It was sound advice. I rose from my seat.

"Might I suggest we remove the mana nervous system from both of Carniel's hands and proceed with the trial?"

"Hahahaha! An excellent notion!" King Walter laughed, thoroughly delighted.

"The trial has not even produced a verdict — such treatment is far too much!" Magellini objected.

Shoved forever into Carniel's shadow and branded the eternal Number Two, Magellini nonetheless seemed determined to guard his neutrality — perhaps out of pride in his office as Tower Master.

"Tower Master. A question, if I may."

"..."

"Who was it that made that restraint?"

"...Carniel."

"A restraint of his own making. Then he would know how to undo it, wouldn't he?"

"That is mere speculation without evidence......"

"Are you sheltering him simply because you both came from the same Tower?" His voice rose, pressing in for the kill. "The crime of violating the princess has been laid bare in its entirety. And still you mean to keep shielding Carniel!"

When Ziek gave the signal, every member of the hero party except Lunaelin piled on to echo him.

Tower Master or no — what could Magellini do when the four heroes who had saved the continent bore down on him all at once? Casting wary glances around the room, he approached to remove my mana nervous system. "Junior... I'm sorry, but it changes nothing, my objecting alone..." he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. "...It isn't your whole body, at least. Submit quietly, and they won't hand down anything worse."

A mana nervous system, once removed, could never be restored. That was elementary common sense. I understood Magellini's position well enough — and the absurdity of it wrung a hollow laugh out of me all the same.

"If demons show up like Hwarin's foresight says, do you think you lot can hold them back on your own?"

At my question, the nobles began to shout.

"The Hero slew the Demon King all by himself! Who the hell do you think you are, spouting that bullshit!"

"It was Lord Zieghart who saved the Solios Continent!"

"A criminal bastard like you should be executed on the spot!"

I ignored, for the moment, the spectacular about-face of the nobles who had once fawned over me, and looked instead at the hero party — the ones who knew the truth. For an instant, worry flickered there. Then it was gone.

"You prophesied six years ago that the Demon King would appear. There's no way you failed to foresee the demons showing up again."

Ziek's words seemed to speak for every heart in the party. One by one, they gave small nods.

There was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠no prophecy magic. I had invented it as the need arose, to secure the kingdoms' cooperation. But Hwarin's foresight was the genuine article.

"My prophecy magic is fake."

"So desperate to keep your mana nervous system intact that you'll spout any nonsense, I see." Ziek curled one corner of his mouth. "Do you have any idea how many things you predicted over the past six years? You called every last one of them — and now, of all times, you claim the prophecy magic was fake?"

Should I simply tell them the truth? That this world was the one inside the romance fantasy novel I had read, and that I had dressed up knowledge I already possessed as prophecy magic? They wouldn't believe a word of it. And besides, I had no desire to explain myself to people who had set out to see me broken.

The only reason I had brought up the prophecy magic at all was for my own sake. To shave away even a sliver of the guilt they felt.

"I warned you plainly enough. That Hwarin's foresight was worth taking seriously."

"Your foresight was hardly ever right — and even when it was, the us of then and the us of now are two different things. Carniel, we have no need of your help."

When I said nothing more and simply stood there, Magellini stepped forward. He faltered for a moment — then removed the mana nervous system from both my hands.

It was agony, like being seared from deep beneath the skin. Unbearable. I let out a shriek as girlish as Gonau's.

Ziek and King Walter curled their lips into slimy smiles. Watching them turned my stomach for a moment — but actually, this works out better. I had meant to have them removed anyway. And the pain made it impossible to do alone; from the very start, I had planned to go beg Magellini for the favor. To use the Demon King's Heart, the mana nervous system had to go.

The trial was a witch hunt with its verdict written in advance, and it wrapped up in short order.

"Carniel." King Walter opened his mouth, cold as a blade.

With a sentence designed to wrack my body with pain and wither my mind besides, the trial came to an end.

How generous of them, to spare my life. Once the tour of the kingdoms was over, they would kill me and leave no trace. Entirely plausible, from King Walter — a man the novel had painted as sinister to a frankly disturbing degree.

The removal of the mana nervous system throughout my body fell to Magellini. Even as a complete magical cripple, my knowledge would remain. If I offered to teach him the demons' way of casting — the method I had mastered — I could buy the time I needed to use the Demon King's Heart. After all, mages can never resist intellectual curiosity.

Breaking the restraint and crushing them all underfoot with magic had been one of the options open to me. The reason I didn't take it was simple. Curiosity. I wanted to know exactly what the truth was. Force a confession out of someone with a boot on their neck, and they might well feed you bullshit. I was a mage, through and through — I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠couldn't help it.

Your confessions — I'll hear every one of them, quietly.

I remembered a shitpost I'd once seen on a forum. No matter how vile the deed, it said, telling someone about it left your heart lighter than before. So I had come clean too — the prophecy magic had never existed — and sure enough, I did feel lighter.

There I was: wearing the restraint, the mana nervous system in both hands already gone, soon to be a complete wreck. As a mage, could I possibly sink any lower than this? A situation where I could bare every sin and the listener could never retaliate. The perfect stage for the bastards who had played at being my friends to pour out everything they really thought of me.

Before I departed for the Magic Tower with Magellini, Lunaelin came to me first.

"I intend to sever my ties with all of you and return to my homeland. Curse me for holding my tongue through the entire trial, do whatever you like — it is nothing to me. This was your own doing from the start, Carniel." Contempt sat plainly on her face.

"...C-Carniel?" Sernil crept closer. "I did warn you, didn't I? I told you love was dangerous. Don't play pitiful now that it's come to this. You brought it on yourself. People like you ruin everyone around them in the end. Truly... you make me sick. So don't you dare stand there pretending to be the victim." Her face twisted with revulsion as she denounced me.

"Carniel. Look at me. I'm living just fine without magic." Brakan ambled over. "You know how it is — Torgadin does a mountain of trade with Hellision. Ziek threatened to take his business to the other dwarves. What was I supposed to do? I do think of you as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a friend. But I can't just pretend my own people don't exist, can I? Eh?" He clapped a hand on the shoulder of me standing there in silence. "Don't you worry. You'll end up in our kingdom sooner or later anyway, no? Just trust me. I'll square things with the enforcement officers myself, set you up with a roof, find you some work. You won't starve just because the magic's gone. That's what friends are for, eh? Helping each other when times get hard!" A bright grin never left his face ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from beginning to end.

When I read the novel, I had thrown myself into these characters as if I were one of them — and after falling into the story, I had spent six years at their side. How hollow. All that struggle to slay the Demon King and save the world, and this was what it bought me. Everything I had built felt meaningless, as if years of effort had been struck down in a single stroke. My feelings were a tangled mess. It would be a lie to say I felt no bitterness.

But this was no time to drown in it. The emptiness could come later. If ever there was a moment to keep my composure, it was now — I still had to find whoever had slipped the potion into the wine.

For now, three of them are off the suspect list.

Lunaelin. Judging by the personality I had read in the novel and watched firsthand for six years, her disillusionment with us seemed genuine. Elves are a race that couldn't care less what the other races get up to. I had never deeply suspected her to begin with.

Sernil. When she lied about Ardel's pregnancy, she kept dodging my gaze — she is the type whose lies show plain on her face. That Sernil, hiding that she had laced the wine, meeting my eyes dead-on while she spoke? She wasn't even under threat of being killed by magic. Impossible. And had she been the culprit, she would never have come to me at all.

Brakan. He had been grinning through the entire trial. That slack, beaming face of his. There was exactly one thing that made him smile like that. Money. The story about being threatened was a fig leaf — he had clearly received something from Ziek in exchange for tossing me aside.

Chelliana and Ziek never came. Which meant... something is going on between Chelliana and Ziek. The moment the trial ended, Chelliana had run straight to Ziek's side, and the two of them had hurried away together.

Chelliana does not appear in the novel. On the original worldline, she dreamed of becoming a mage, but she would have ended up a middling one, her name lost to history. But I advised her to try alchemy instead, and she went on to push aside the original hero party's alchemist and claim a place in the new party herself. So even I don't know her in full. And yet the Chelliana I knew firsthand should have come to see my face at least once before I left for the Magic Tower. After all, she was the only one who ever came to visit me, saying she was worried.

Hwarin had come because she wanted to confirm, through my nonexistent prophecy magic, that the foresight she had seen was true. ...Though she did seem a little different from the Hwarin I knew. I couldn't be certain. It might simply have been the vision.

So who was the culprit? It could be a lone act. There could be an accomplice. But one thing I was certain of, here and now: There is always only one truth! The culprit is you, Chelliana!

Loud, and not much fun besides — I had never liked banquets. But what could I do? They welcomed me so warmly as a member of the hero's party... I'd have drawn every eye if I slipped out. And Master had said he would attend. If his disciple were absent, it might reflect badly on him — and it was a chance to share the same room as Master, besides. So I entered the banquet hall with a glad heart.

Hwarin grumbled — ugh, how I hate crowds — something about too many people dulling her communion with the spirits. So the two of us claimed a corner of the hall. She and I had always gotten along, and we whiled away the time in easy chatter about what we would do once we went home.

"Chelly. It's free, I'm telling you — free. A play where the prince and the princess perform for nothing." Hwarin snickered and poked my arm, jabbing a finger toward Master — who was clutching his belly, making a show of dashing for the privy.

"Carniel runs off, Lady Ardel watches him go, and Ziek sulks as he watches her watch him."

"..."

"Doesn't it look like three fools putting on a little play?"

"...Don't call my master a fool."

"Why not?"

"He's only doing it to keep a promise."

"Hmm." Hwarin studied my face for a moment, then opened her mouth. "Carniel the fool. The king of fools. The doo-doo fool."

"I told you to stop!"

Every time I got angry, Hwarin only grew more delighted and tossed out another jab. Then, quite suddenly, the girl who had been toying with me like a plaything let out a sigh. "If you don't want to keep playing the fool like them, cut your losses while you can. You're the only one who ends up hurting."

"...Cut my losses on what?"

"Haah... never mind. Forget it." Hwarin shook her head. "Chelly. What number play is this one?"

"The seventh."

"Counting them all while pretending you don't see it — you really are something else."

"...Shut up."

Zieghart came walking toward us.

"Chelly."

"Hm?"

"There's something I want to talk with you about. Just for a moment."