Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Enhancement
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Reinforcement
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Princess Ilia's every impression of the human named Gray Chasefield could ultimately be summed up in one word.
Scary.
⋯⋯No, more than that—dangerous.
Sometimes, just being near her made it impossible to completely dismiss the threat to one's life.
So, it was understandable that she might resort to a desperate gambit to break the suffocating silence that weighed down on her all day.
"Shall we talk about someone you like?!"
"⋯⋯."
Gray, lying on the bed with her monocle on, reading a book, turned her emotionless gaze toward Ilia.
"⋯⋯."
"⋯⋯."
⋯⋯Did I mess up?
Ilia thought, sweat beading profusely on her brow.
No, she just couldn't stand being treated like an invisible person while sharing the same room like this. But seeing the reaction, her flesh crawled⋯⋯
"N-No, when girls get together, they usually talk about this stuff—"
"Quiet."
"⋯⋯."
"Don't talk about useless things."
"Yes."
⋯⋯Of course it would end like this.
Ilia fidgeted in front of the line drawn before her chair.
It was the line Gray had drawn, warning that she'd kill her if she crossed it.
"⋯⋯."
⋯⋯Hmm.
Treating royalty like this.
Wasn't this just plain bullying?
But she clearly wasn't completely heartless.
"Do you have one?"
The fact that she got some kind of response proved it.
"Pardon?"
"Someone you like."
"⋯⋯."
Ilia broke out in sweat again, never expecting an actual reply.
Someone I like.
"I don't have one yet⋯⋯"
As Ilia said that, Gray clamped her mouth shut and fell silent.
⋯⋯Determined to keep the conversation going somehow, Ilia pressed on desperately.
"Ah, but there is someone who liked me!"
"Yeah? Who?"
"My mother!"
After blurting that out.
Ilia's expression gradually darkened.
"⋯⋯She's not around anymore, though."
Silence filled the room.
Seeing this usually timid but bright princess become so downcast spoke volumes about what had happened to her birth mother.
"⋯⋯."
Watching her, Gray silently rose from her seat.
As Ilia flailed her arms and legs in panic, Gray casually erased the line in front of her.
"You can come over now."
"⋯⋯Pardon?"
"⋯⋯Wanna sleep together? In the bed?"
"⋯⋯⋯⋯Pardon?"
"⋯⋯⋯⋯Forget it if you don't want to."
Huh.
Huh?
Ilia frantically sorted through the situation with her spinning head.
So.
This was the Hero's way of comforting her.
Gray returned to the bed, pulling the covers over herself, and said coolly.
"⋯⋯I miss my mom too."
"⋯⋯."
"Poor thing. I'll sleep with you."
Her tone was stiff, and the words hardly warm.
But.
There was no doubt it was meant as comfort.
⋯⋯Ah.
I see.
This person has wounds too.
Ilia hesitated, then approached the bed.
Sitting demurely in front of Gray, she smiled brightly.
"I-I'm okay now! The Hero, and others, they've all become my friends."
Gray's eyebrow twitched.
"⋯⋯I haven't been particularly nice to you, though?"
She meant it sincerely.
Unlike Carlyle or Vespa, who always doted on her whenever they saw her, Gray had never paid her any special attention.
If anything, she'd been harsh and intimidating plenty of times.
But.
"You've taught me so much!"
It might be childish naivety, or perhaps her innate pure nature.
Either way.
"You're my friend, Hero!"
The words, delivered with a beaming smile directed at Gray herself.
Were undoubtedly filled with pure sincerity.
"⋯⋯Yeah."
Gray replied flatly.
It might have been her imagination, but her voice felt a touch softer.
"Then finish telling me about it."
"Pardon?"
"You were talking about someone you like or whatever. Say something, anything."
At Gray's words, Ilia tilted her head.
"Hmm⋯⋯ You're more interested in that kind of talk than I thought, Hero!"
"⋯⋯I'm not interested."
It annoyed her that Lionel kept bringing up nonsense like there being no good candidates or no one worth bringing along whenever he opened his mouth.
So, without much thought, she figured she should learn what it was about.
"I'm just curious what it feels like when a guy and a girl like each other."
For her.
It remained an unknown emotion.
She had no clue what kind of man she needed to meet to feel it.
"⋯⋯Um⋯⋯"
The problem was, as a 7-year-old girl, she couldn't give a clear answer to such a question.
Tilting her head, Ilia propped her chin on her hand beside Gray.
Like.
Liking someone.
It was unknown to her too.
But she had a rough approximation of a similar feeling.
"Isn't Carlyle cool?"
"⋯⋯."
"Reliable, always warm to me, handsome, and⋯⋯"
Before she could finish, Ilia was kicked off the bed by Gray and tumbled to the floor with a crash.
"⋯⋯."
"Sleep on the floor."
Gray's cold words fell on the speechless girl.
"⋯⋯Pardon?"
"If you get on the bed, I'll hit you."
"⋯⋯."
"That guy's not cool at all."
"⋯⋯."
"Not cool at all."
"⋯⋯."
"So stop liking that guy. Got it?"
⋯⋯Why?
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My memories of the Imperial Armory are decent enough.
It's a place even Carlyle is familiar with.
They didn't open it even when the Empire was on the brink of full collapse, clinging desperately to it.
Of course, by the time humanity was backed into a corner, they ended up emptying it completely.
The warehouse where all the Empire's secret arts slumber. The culmination of treasures accumulated through a millennium of history.
"—Welcome!"
Standing at the entrance to such a place, Siona Libel smiled brightly.
"This is the highlight of our field trip! We've received permission to take one item each!"
⋯⋯What kind of field trip lets you take one item from an armory?
At this point, it's not even pretending to be a field trip—it's outright advertising that something brutal is about to happen.
Except for Gray, who casually scanned the surroundings as if used to it, everyone's faces had turned pale.
It was the natural reaction, with nothing but priceless treasures piled up like mountains around them.
"⋯⋯Does that mean we can take anything we choose?"
"That's right, Student Carlyle!"
But.
The moment Carlyle got that confirmation, he strode casually into the armory.
As if he'd been there countless times before.
"⋯⋯Um, no need for a guide?"
"I've studied a bit hard."
Answering Siona's question offhandedly, Carlyle began scanning the surroundings with keen eyes.
[⋯⋯The Imperial Armory—have I been here before?]
At the Holy Sword's question, Carlyle snorted.
What a ridiculous question.
'You think I don't know how many times I've regressed?'
Memories from when the Empire was intact required the Holy Sword's assistance.
But in places where knowledge was 'shared,' it was like his own backyard to Carlyle.
Especially the Imperial Armory, which he'd visited at least once per regression.
No way he wouldn't know what was where.
[For someone like that, I wouldn't say your eye is particularly sharp⋯⋯?]
Watching Carlyle breeze past items without a second glance, the Holy Sword added that remark.
It was warranted.
The first Emperor's sword, an amulet carved from the Horn of the Dread God, the shield of the hero who slew the First Catastrophe⋯⋯
Every single one was game-ending gear, no matter how you looked at it.
But what Carlyle sought was very specific.
'Stuff like that? I don't need it right now.'
[What?]
'I need something I can use immediately.'
No matter how legendary the equipment, if he couldn't wield it, it was just pearls before swine.
Those were incredible artifacts, but they demanded immense skill from the user. Not essential for Carlyle right now.
With that in mind, the item he'd been seeking finally caught his eye at the edge of his vision.
A stone-hard eyeball preserved in a glass case.
[⋯⋯Eye of the Watcher? Useful, sure, but not exactly a standout relic.]
Exactly as it sounds.
The Watcher monster, which drained mana just by gazing at foes, had the habit of storing all the mana it had absorbed in its eyes.
If it was preserved in the Imperial Armory, it was naturally a top-grade mana battery from centuries of draining countless sources.
Of course, even so, it felt underwhelming to take from here. Not when they stored things like the Holy Sword.
But.
'With just this, it works.'
Saying that, Carlyle wandered nearby again.
He stopped in front of a necklace placed beside a plaque reading 'Tear of the Star.'
[⋯⋯Isn't that the famous useless trinket?]
This was an exchange gift sent by the Mage Tower to the Empire decades ago as proof of their friendship.
Kept in the armory out of respect as a gift from a major faction, but no one knew its use.
True to the Mage Tower's notoriously eccentric nature, they claimed, "Those who don't know its value shouldn't use it," infuriating the Emperor of the time.
Experiments yielded nothing, so it became a forgotten relic.
Well.
Except for one person.
Carlyle smirked, picked up the necklace, and pressed the Eye of the Watcher against it.
Then he bit his finger, drawing blood, and inscribed a complex pattern beneath the Tear of the Star.
He couldn't recall which regression he'd figured it out in. But he remembered the Tower Lord begging him on her deathbed to take the secret to the grave.
⋯⋯It must have been utterly mortifying for them.
[What are you doing?]
'Unlocking the code.'
[What?]
'This was sent by the Tower Lord to troll the Emperor. The Empire was too powerful to openly defy, but they didn't want to do them any favors either.'
They couldn't send junk—that would be an insult. But they didn't want to hand over anything useful.
Typical Mage Tower. Eccentric mages were a dime a dozen.
Their compromise: Send an item usable only after cracking a code.
It looked impressive but had safeguards preventing full performance.
So insidious even the safeguards went unnoticed.
'This is national treasure level. One of the Mage Tower's greatest treasures.'
And once you cracked the code.
This became one of the most broken pieces of gear in the entire Demon Hunter world.
[⋯⋯How the hell do you even know that?]
The Holy Sword said in disbelief.
The Mage Tower was the epitome of decadence, isolationism, and elitism.
No way they'd spill such secrets. Even if the Emperor demanded it, they'd sooner go to war than comply.
'I told you.'
Carlyle smirked.
'You think I don't know how many times I've regressed?'
Knowledge within reach.
Its breadth and depth.
No one could surpass him.
Not a soul in the world.
[⋯⋯.]
Ignoring the silent Holy Sword, Carlyle watched his blood seep into the Tear of the Star.
This was the user recognition process.
And here.
To 'activate,' he pressed the Eye of the Watcher against the Star's mana.
Soon, a beam of light from the necklace absorbed the eye.
Without a trace, as if devouring it whole.
'⋯⋯Insane.'
What he'd done was like booting up a computer.
And soon.
This equipment required the Eye of the Watcher—centuries of absorbed mana—just for 'booting.'
The window that appeared didn't disappoint, clearly proving it.
-System Message
▶ You have activated the 'Tear of the Star'!
▶ This is 'bound equipment.' No one but you can use it!
▶ You can use mana infinitely for a very short time!
▶ The Holy Sword's form change range expands slightly!
▶ The Holy Sword gains 'Skill – Divine Descent'!
⋯⋯That's right.
Carlyle grinned.
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