Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Provocation
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◆
Thinking back on it, from the moment Carlyle possessed this body, he had already been an outcast within the Knight Order.
He remembered it being because he was a notorious underachiever in the Order, and on top of that, such a quiet, unassuming guy.
Thanks to that, Carlyle knew several spots inside the bustling Knight Order where no one would spot him.
And that still held true now, well before the point of his original regression.
In short:
He knew a place so deserted that even if he oiled his sword while maintaining it—and had a bizarre conversation with the sword itself—no one would run into him.
[⋯⋯Mm, kuh.]
“⋯⋯.”
Carlyle ignored the moan rising from the sword and kept rubbing his hands along it.
[J-Just, a little gentler, how about it?]
“⋯⋯.”
[Ah, grrrhh⋯⋯]
“⋯⋯No, could you shut up for a bit?”
[It tickles, that's why.]
“⋯⋯.”
Why the hell did a sword have sensations anyway?
Carlyle made a rotten face and rubbed the whetstone along the Holy Sword again.
[-You shameless wretch. How dare you touch such a spot so casually—]
“⋯⋯I said shut up.”
It was a good thing no one else was around. Anyone who saw this would think he was insane.
‘If I just walk in with this thing as is, all hell would break loose.’
According to the Hero, the “Holy Sword Bestowal Ceremony” was coming up soon.
The monumental event where Gray Chasefield of the Imperial Knight Order would be announced as the Hero to the world.
If Carlyle showed up there holding the Holy Sword—the symbol of the Hero—it would cause utter chaos. What he was doing now was his best attempt to disguise it so it didn’t look like the Holy Sword.
‘The Holy Sword Bestowal Ceremony, huh⋯⋯’
A prime chance to make contact with Gray.
The Hero herself, sealed inside the sword, had insisted as much, so it had to be true.
There was no reason to delay in the first place—not when he had to reform her somehow. The sooner they met, the better.
‘⋯⋯Though our first meeting is nothing but bad memories.’
Let’s see, then.
How had it gone in the previous timeline?
“Hero.”
[What?]
“Do you remember when we first met?”
[Nope. Not at all.]
“When I just talked to you back then, you beat me half to death out of nowhere, breaking every bone in my limbs?”
[⋯⋯.]
“I would’ve died without emergency transport.”
[⋯⋯Was it like that?]
Of course it was.
Carlyle let out a scoff at her utterly oblivious response.
If she couldn’t remember something like that, maybe she just wasn’t that bright—but no, the Hero’s memory was exceptional in everyday situations.
Which meant that nearly killing him simply wasn’t important enough to her to bother remembering.
Not worth committing to memory.
‘What am I even supposed to say to this girl?’
He sighed deeply and changed the subject.
“Anyway, how about telling me about that promise from before.”
There was no verbal reply, but he could feel Gray flinch inside the sword.
[⋯⋯Y-You mean, that thing about seducing, s-seducing me?]
“What’s with the embarrassment? You’re annoying me.”
[⋯⋯.]
Did she think anyone would want to do this?
From Carlyle’s perspective—who had seen every side of her across countless regressions—this reaction was just grating.
“I said ‘seduce’ as shorthand. What I mean is making you a little more humble.”
He had no real interest in doing anything man-to-woman with her.
If anything, it’d be physiologically impossible. Just thinking about how much suffering she’d caused him.
There were plenty of timelines where she’d killed him outright. He’d be lucky if seeing her face didn’t trigger his trauma.
Still, whether he liked it or not, taming that temper of hers was essential. Otherwise, she’d never even pretend to listen when he tried to stop her from causing trouble later.
‘To do that, first⋯⋯’
Based on his experience so far, Gray was the type to deliberately erase people from her mind if they didn’t catch her eye. She had a built-in disdain for the weak, you could say.
To socialize her, he at least needed her to acknowledge his existence.
Therefore.
“I think we need to make a strong first impression.”
Anyway, as long as he could etch a powerful memory when they met face-to-face.
[If I may be so bold, how exactly do you plan to do that?]
“⋯⋯.”
[As you yourself said, you have no abilities whatsoever.]
“⋯⋯.”
[I hate to say it, but even I have no doubt I could defeat you—thousands of you—without a scratch. And that’s me at the immature stage right after receiving the Holy Sword.]
That was true enough.
Carlyle really was nothing but an empty shell.
[Status Info]
[Carlyle Bellfast] [Knight Order Recruit]
[Traits: Not yet unlocked.]
[Skills: Not yet unlocked.]
He glared at the window floating before his narrowed eyes.
Well, it seemed he had some perks as a possessor.
Honestly, though, since it hadn’t unlocked once across all those regressions, he might as well have none.
‘There must be some condition⋯⋯’
In the Demon Hunter world, Traits and Skills had different unlock conditions for each character.
Usually, it was something perfectly ordinary like “train in swordsmanship,” “learn magic,” or “hone crafting skills.”
No one had a case like Carlyle’s, where he’d tried everything under the sun and still got nothing.
‘⋯⋯Still gotta try.’
If you had no teeth, you bit with your gums.
This was his last shot anyway—if he failed now, there’d be no coming back. He had to get the first button right.
Even if it was like throwing an egg at a rock, even if he shattered spectacularly, he had to seize her attention.
“Anything’ll do. Even a tiny bit. Isn’t there something I can poke at?”
As he spoke flatly, Gray inside the sword fell silent for a moment.
After a long pause, she finally spoke with effort.
[There is one thing that comes to mind.]
“Oh.”
Carlyle brightened and looked down at the sword.
“Really? Is there a way to win?”
[Win? You think there’s any way for you to beat me, whether in knowledge or combat?]
“What a rude mouth you have.”
It annoyed him more because he couldn’t deny it.
No matter how much younger she was, the gap between Carlyle and Gray was like human versus demigod.
[But.]
She cleared her throat, then continued.
[As you said, there is a way to make myself ‘remember’ you.]
“⋯⋯Hm?”
◆
There are people who live their lives utterly convinced they are the strongest.
To Gray Chasefield, her own life was exactly that.
At 7: Youngest ever to join the Imperial Knight Order.
At 10: Won the Imperial Martial Tournament.
At 15.
⋯⋯Subjugated the dragon called a calamity.
And after that, she lived a life without a single defeat.
Victory was as natural to her as breathing.
And seeing everyone else—except herself—as “subpar” was the obvious next step.
Some had opposed bestowing the Holy Sword on her, saying she was too arrogant to be the Hero.
She hadn’t even gotten mad.
To her, it was just the pathetic wailing of losers.
Why get angry? She felt disgust toward bugs, but who actually got furious at one for real?
To her, most of the emotions others stirred in her didn’t stray from that premise.
The weak were bugs. Hers to deal with as she pleased.
Even in today’s spar to determine the true Hero candidate, she’d shown no restraint in that mindset.
The Knight Order was appalled; the Orthodox Church was horrified. But Gray felt nothing.
She couldn’t understand the fuss over a few broken limbs and a burst eyeball.
‘Being weak is the sin, isn’t it?’
She hadn’t even killed him.
Daring to cross swords with her at that level was the mistake.
She thought all this indifferently as she gazed at the Holy Sword extended toward her.
“All great evils rising from the sulfurous depths,”
In the vast auditorium lined with the Knight Order, a high priest of the Orthodox Church bestowed the Holy Sword before the kneeling Gray.
“And all great sins born of humanity.”
A sword forged from star-iron, meteoric metal fallen from the heavens in ancient times.
A weapon holding the goddess’s radiance, for the chosen one.
Passed down only to those who could claim “humanity’s strongest” without dispute.
“Only you have been chosen.”
As Gray took hold of it, cheers erupted from all sides.
The birth of the Hero.
“A Hero from the Imperial Knight Order! This will go down in history!”
“Let’s go, Gray! Time for a feast!”
“⋯⋯.”
Amid the boisterous crowd surrounding her, Gray scanned the room expressionlessly.
⋯⋯It irritated her.
She found it repulsive how these worthless vermin acted friendly toward her.
“-Out of my way.”
Her icy words made everyone around her freeze.
No one could ignore the anger of humanity’s strongest.
And that fact alone annoyed her to no end.
She strode forward through the hesitating masses.
In the end, that’s all other people were to her.
The moment she bared her teeth—even a little—they all scurried away on their own.
spineless cowards without the guts or courage to even face her.
“⋯⋯Lady. You’ve gone too far.”
Her attendant whispered at her side with a strained smile.
She didn’t remember his name. She’d seen his face for years, but he wasn’t worth remembering.
Unlike the others, though, he was somewhat useful.
“I’m going to practice swordsmanship. Prepare a spot. Somewhere I can use alone.”
“Yes. As you wish.”
At least he handled her requests promptly.
But when she followed him, there was already a man using the training grounds.
“⋯⋯.”
The attendant fidgeted, glancing between the man and Gray.
She answered with a cold glare.
Useless fool. Couldn’t even fulfill her simple request to have it to herself?
With a sigh, she approached the man swinging his sword in the center.
“Hey.”
The man didn’t respond.
He didn’t even turn to look at her.
⋯⋯Already irritating, her voice grew harsher.
“I’ll give you five seconds. Get out.”
She said it flatly.
The man didn’t budge.
“Didn’t you hear? I said get out.”
“Fuck off.”
“⋯⋯.”
For a moment.
She thought she’d misheard.
Gray blinked dumbly at him.
The attendant’s gaping mouth beside her suggested otherwise.
“⋯⋯What did you just—”
“Didn’t you hear? I said fuck off.”
“⋯⋯.”
“Did you reserve the training grounds or something? Who the hell are you?”
Gray’s sense of reality blurred at his continued abuse.
◆
‘Hero.’
[What?]
‘Your personality was shit even as a kid.’
[⋯⋯I won’t deny it.]
Carlyle chuckled at the voice echoing in his head.
He could see Gray’s face turning terrifying from the string of profanities he’d just unleashed.
Even on her still baby-faced child features, the speed at which killing intent filled her eyes was impressive.
It hit him anew.
Seeing Gray at this stage—utterly unsocialized—made it all the more miraculous that she’d eventually decide to change on her own later⋯⋯
‘She’s gonna pick a fight now, right?’
[Definitely.]
He’d scratched her already foul mood—when she, the Hero with a nasty temper, was in a bad one—with language that would spark a brawl by any normal standard.
Next came the no-questions-asked violence. Gray’s ferocious expression as she stormed toward him proved it.
And that was exactly what Carlyle was aiming for.
He recalled their earlier conversation.
[In short, you just need to make me notice you, right?]
She’d insisted there was a method like that.
[Just give her a taste of the tiniest failure.]
What was needed was a crack.
The smallest crack.
‘Come at me.’
He couldn’t win.
But he could humiliate her.
He grinned inwardly as he watched Gray approach.