Let Me Tenderize Him First

First, let me tenderize him a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bit.

The Palace of the High Sun.

Its master and ruler of the Empire, Pharaoh, was deep in conversation with a great many people.

And as always, the first thing that caught the eye was that massive, muscular frame standing over two meters tall. His short golden hair was styled with no small amount of care, and his sun-gold eyes blazed bright even in the full light of day. He had made an effort at formal dress, yet the clothes were still far too short for an Emperor — the bronze skin, the brimming confidence on his face, all of it added up to one thing…

Uncle Inom.

Pharaoh was a golden tan.

Back when I first met Pharaoh, his appearance had given me a few preconceptions. To anyone with eyes, Pharaoh was the textbook golden tan — the so-called bleached-blond, tanned street-thug archetype — and perhaps because of his position as Emperor, he had a great many wives and concubines. His personality, too, was stuffed to the brim with confidence.

Which was why I had kept him at a slight distance, at least in the beginning. But the more we talked, the more surprising sides of him I found.

No one cherished the Empire more than he did, and he took immense pride in its supremacy. For all his many wives, there was little sign of genuine debauchery, and despite holding absolute power, his subjects didn't resent him. Quite the opposite — they revered Pharaoh as their protector and trusted him completely.

Because this world is at war.

On some continent, a kingdom could be wiped off the map overnight, tens of thousands dead and wounded. In the skies above, colossal monstrous birds spread plague. On the ground, hordes of beasts ran rampant, and even the sea could barely keep itself in check.

By contrast, Pharaoh's Empire was practically a land of peace — because his authority shielded his people from all those threats.

"Pretty close, yeah. Though he's no delinquent."

Blonde and tanned — sure, that part was accurate. But a thug he was not. He did overcharge on his intermediate trade routes, granted, but by the standards of his kind he was practically a saint.

Ancient monsters that reasonable can be counted on one hand.

Ancient monsters that regarded 'humans' as legitimate trading partners were exceedingly rare to begin with. Like celestials and demons, treating humans as insects was the defining trait of their kind.

Pharaoh, however, saw humans as partners in commerce and championed diversity, maintaining trade with them for generations. There was some speculation that this policy had actually been Serek's idea… but whatever the case, the final decision had been his.

I rate him highly.

"Hehe."

I brushed off the chat's reaction with a smirk and kept my eyes on Pharaoh.

Leaning one elbow on a golden table, Pharaoh dismissed the nobles from the throne room. It seemed to be the time for the regular council, but aside from the trivial matters, most decisions in the Empire were settled between Serek and Pharaoh anyway, so the session hardly mattered. It was, quite literally, just a matter of 'hearing them out.'

Desertum was governed entirely under Pharaoh's absolute authority, so this was the natural result.

He folded away the mountain of petitions the nobles had submitted and returned to his throne, leaning his huge frame back against it. His expression was as confident as ever, yet somehow he seemed troubled.

"...Demons."

Pharaoh was mindful of the demons.

He could hold his own against low-tier celestials and demons, but from mid-tier upward, it became a fight for his very life. High-tier beings, and those above them — ones he couldn't oppose at all.

"There is already so much that demands my attention."

Of course, for now he was merely aware of the threat — he didn't consider it a crisis. There was no guarantee the demons would come here, and no sign of it any time soon.

Lily, the one who'd brought him this information, had been too weak back then to accurately gauge the demons' level. All she'd offered was a vague impression from watching from afar — and even had she known the truth, he wouldn't have believed her anyway.

It would have been nice to have a proper conversation with Pharaoh while I was at it, but…

She's definitely nearby.

My future self, hypersensitive as she was, would be prowling the imperial palace like a hawk. If I stretched my interference even a little in this state, she'd notice instantly and come storming in — even if this was the Emperor's sanctum, a place no one could simply walk into.

I moved as fast as I could, slipping Caums's sword onto the weapon rack displayed behind Pharaoh, then immediately released my interference. It was a special armory linked to the Emperor himself — though the weapons sat on display, Pharaoh could call any of them to his hand the moment battle began. I had also altered the sword's appearance to resemble the most ornamental of the existing pieces as closely as possible.

"By now, you understand your purpose, don't you?"

—...Aye.

Caums could transfer his soul into a dead body — a vessel stripped of its soul. When Pharaoh found himself on the verge of death at the demons' hands and moved into the statue, that would be Caums's moment to claim the Emperor's flesh. Since the armory was connected to Pharaoh's body, all Caums had to do was wait until he judged it safe, and move.

The weapon that had been transformed into a splendid decorative sword glared at me.

—You strip me of my power, and now what would you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have of me?

"Your power? You can make do with the body instead. I even analyzed Pharaoh's flesh and soul for you."

I had handed over complete information on the Emperor's body so that Caums could seize it without difficulty. The man had spent seventeen hundred years doing nothing but researching bodies — of course he could manage this much.

—You would have me labor at this for hundreds of years?

"Probably not that long?"

The demon attack — the moment Pharaoh lost his body — was two years from now. Snatching a body while the demons clearly held the upper hand would be suicide, so at the very earliest, he couldn't claim it until after they were gone. Nobody knew exactly when that would be, but a rough estimate was possible.

"Likely a great deal less than that."

Ten years at the outside.

Once the war had fully ended — at that point, when the sudden reconciliation between the two races had been achieved — the demons would no longer be anywhere near this place either.

"Though it may take longer still to claim the body completely. The demons' lingering influence could be a factor, or perhaps another Legacy Inheritor might turn out stronger than we expect."

Even I couldn't know how things would unfold. The Forgotten Emperor might press Caums hard with overwhelming power. Scorpio, who I'd assumed was nothing more than a scorpion, might in truth be an ancient monster of tremendous age. This was a world where strange things happened constantly — and the past version of this place was a very dangerous one.

But I judged he'd be fine.

"You're used to enduring long ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stretches of time, aren't you?"

He'd already lived seventeen hundred years. Surely he could wait this long.

—...Madwoman.

And with that, everything I'd set out to do was truly finished.

Time to move on to the next era.

I nodded.

Blue light swallowed me whole.

"......"

In the spot where Lily of the future had departed, Pharaoh, now alone, quietly turned his head.

At the end of his gaze stood the display rack. The weapons of the Empire's Sun, of its great and mighty Emperor. It was a place so immaculate it bordered on perfection — and yet, just as 'she' had said, something about it felt off.

"It has changed."

He reached out and drew toward himself the decorative sword that was no longer what it had been. A sword of beautiful exterior and utterly no function beyond ornament. And yet the blade trembled violently, as though it were alive.

Pharaoh fixed it with a glare, then hurled it straight into the empty air. Unable to resist, the sword soared upward — and then, seeing whoever had caught it, its eyes went wide.

"Interesting. I don't believe I've ever seen a sword like this before."

Lily Elbrit.

The same as the one before — and yet, at the same time, not.

She gazed down at him with a smile frozen in place. Even sealed within a sword, cold sweat came pouring out of him.

"Utterly absurd."

"......"

"You dare trespass in my imperial palace and lay hands upon my treasure... do you have any idea who I am?"

Lily Elbrit seized the sword's body in her grip.

KRAKOOM...!

—Ghhhaaagh...!

The sword screamed.

Not so much as a blink at the viscous shriek, Lily turned a glacial expression upon Pharaoh.

"A celestial."

—St... stop this! Stop, I say!

"So a winged piece of trash crawled here on its own two feet."

—It was not I—

CRUNCH!

—......

The blade was crushed completely out of shape.

Lily regarded the unconscious Caums, tilted her head this way and that, then bound the sword fast with her divinity. He would never leave this place again.

"A demon, and now a celestial... my headaches only multiply by the day."

Yes. Lily Elbrit.

"What say you? I did heed your request — yet he is an intruder of the Empire. I cannot simply hand him over."

"I'll investigate him and return him. But before that—"

"Before that?"

Grin.

"Let me tenderize him a bit first."