Chapter 10
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: To Live as a Genius
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Rows of ornate golden chandeliers hung from a ceiling so high it could easily accommodate a skyscraper or two.
“I have just returned from my battle with the Overlord.”
A massive round table sat in the center of the conference room. Atop it lay a collection of golden candlesticks and decorative daggers.
Seated at the lavishly decorated table were the heads of the four races that formed the allied nations.
The Queen of the Elves, the King of the Dwarves, the Great Chieftain of the Orcs, and the Emperor of the Humans.
The Elven Queen possessed a beauty so pure and youthful it was impossible to believe she was thousands of years old, while the Dwarven King sported a beard as thick, coarse, and luxuriant as beer foam.
The Orc Great Chieftain was colossal and rugged, his body covered in so many scars that the mere sight of him would make one’s knees buckle in fear.
The Human Emperor’s salt-and-pepper hair flowed down to his shoulders. He wore opulent robes befitting his title, yet his eyes held an intelligence that no amount of finery could conceal.
“You’ve returned! So, what of the Overlord…?”
The King of the Dwarves was the first to speak, asking the Sword Saint as he sipped wine from a golden goblet.
“I let him get away, but I managed to obtain some of his blood and flesh. I intend to provide this to the blood mages to locate his hideout.”
“Oho… finally! After three years of him hiding like a rat without a single clue, we’ve finally found his tail.”
The Dwarven King, moved by the Sword Saint’s report, raised his goblet, his booming voice filling the conference room.
“You never seem to learn how to speak calmly.”
The leader of the elves, a queen over 3,000 years old, shot the Dwarven King a sharp glare.
“Hah, and you’re as ill-mannered as ever!”
The Dwarven King simply offered the Elven Queen a hearty laugh.
“…Tsk.”
The Elven Queen clicked her tongue at the Dwarven King, turning her head away as if to say any more words would be a waste of breath.
“Why couldn’t you kill him? From what I was told, the Overlord Maltiel appeared in person. Not just a Mutant, but him, himself. With your skill, it should have been an impossible situation to miss.”
The Elven Queen questioned the Sword Saint in her characteristically sharp and insolent tone.
“My men were in danger. I had no choice but to let him go.”
The Elven Queen, exuding an air of nobility with her sharp eyes, let out a low groan as she looked at the Sword Saint, who had led me to the round table.
“…Just to be sure, how many men are we talking about?”
“Five of my men and one civilian.”
“Were they strong enough to warrant letting the Overlord escape?”
“With the exception of one… I honestly can’t say they were.”
“Then you made a foolish decision.”
The queen’s vitriol was exceptionally sharp. Her voice, laced with irritation, cast a chill over the spacious conference room.
“Are you not aware of how many of the continent’s people die each day because of that one Overlord?”
“…I, too, question this decision. The men on the battlefield must have been warriors. Warriors are those who willingly lay down their lives for the weak. They, too, would have wanted you to pursue the Overlord rather than worry about their safety.”
The Great Chieftain of the Orcs, who had been sitting silently at the round table, chimed in.
A deep, resonant voice flowed from his massive, hulking frame, filling the room in a way different from the Dwarven King’s.
The Sword Saint’s eyes darted about as if troubled, before he finally let out a sigh and spoke.
“…Well. Yes, I’m sorry.”
…?
Sitting next to the Sword Saint, hunched over like a man on pins and needles, I doubted my ears and glanced to my side.
Isn’t his tone a little too casual?
“Well, what can you do? I’m not that smart of a person. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I just can’t pass by someone who needs help right in front of me. That’s all.”
The Sword Saint seemed to feel not a shred of shame for his actions.
Though the leaders of each race took turns berating him for his foolish decision, the look in his eyes didn't change one bit.
“This is hardly a matter to be taken so lightly, is it? It was the Overlord you let escape! How can such a carefree remark leave your lips after you’ve thrown away the chance to save countless lives? I must have warned you countless times that you need to act with the gravity of the situation in mind!”
At his bold attitude, the Elven Queen unleashed a tirade in her characteristically sharp voice, but the Sword Saint didn't seem to be paying it any mind.
“Well… it’s not as easy as it sounds. I’m sorry. I’ll just have to try my best to save people.”
The Sword Saint offered the queen a good-natured smile and a slight bow of his head.
I felt like I was watching a middle-aged man apologizing after bumping into someone on the street.
Apologizing outwardly with no hint of actual remorse, nor any intention to feel it—that was the very picture of a middle-aged man.
“…I am well aware of your nature. But you are the one who holds the future of the continent in your hands. You need to act with a more macroscopic view. This time, even I must express my agreement with the queen.”
The emperor, who had been listening silently to the other leaders, cautiously added a word in support of the queen.
“Hah! If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you lot go out and fight in the Sword Saint’s place?”
Only the King of the Dwarves spoke up in the Sword Saint’s defense.
“You…!”
“Well, if you’re so displeased with the Sword Saint’s judgment, why don’t you go out there and shoot your bow yourself?”
“Are you even listening to yourself right now?”
The Elven Queen blinked, genuinely dumbfounded, as she stared at the Dwarven King.
“We’re all relying on the Sword Saint to barely avoid an all-out war with the Mazoku. Aren’t you being a bit too harsh just because he made a compassionate decision? Of course, it’s a shame he let the Overlord go, but! Does our Sword Saint deserve to be treated like this? I think not! Am I wrong?”
The Dwarven King openly mocked the queen in his signature gruff voice. While his attitude was hardly appropriate for a meeting of racial leaders and the Sword Saint, his words certainly hit the nail on the head.
“No matter how strong the Sword Saint is, a human is still a human, I say. You’re asking him to abandon his men when they were clearly about to die if he didn’t save them. Isn’t that too inhuman a demand?”
“Your words have merit, but…”
And so, the debate over the Sword Saint’s decision to let the Overlord go continued.
As for me…
I had no idea why I was even here.
Can I just leave?
“…Enough. Let us continue this discussion later. The Sword Saint is not a man with as much time as we have.”
It was the Human Emperor who mediated the squabble between the racial leaders. Since it clearly wasn’t a conversation that would end quickly, the matter was more or less settled for the time being, with the understanding that they would dismiss the Sword Saint and continue their discussion to formulate a plan amongst themselves.
“There was one other item on the agenda for today.”
“Yes, did I not mention I had rescued a civilian earlier?”
“And?”
“That civilian is this boy sitting next to me. Bin.”
“So?”
The Elven Queen glared at me with her characteristically sharp eyes.
The Sword Saint began to explain about me to the four leaders seated at the round table.
To hear him describe it, I was a genius who, despite having never formally learned magic due to being a street urchin, possessed the mana of a 4th Circle mage.
And a genius with the potential to stand on equal footing with an Overlord, despite having only the mana of a mid-tier mage.
And a once-in-a-century super genius whose magic was so refined and powerful that the Overlord had to reveal himself personally just to deal with me.
…Somehow, this whole thing is getting bigger and bigger.
“The Overlord revealed himself just to kill this boy?”
“That cunning bastard who hasn’t left a single trace for three years, no matter what…”
“To have a magical refinement so high as to be mistaken for a 7th Circle mage is intriguing. Such a case has never been recorded in history.”
“If what you say is true, then this boy is certainly a genius for the ages.”
The monarchs at the round table began to look at me with expressions of interest.
I feel like I’m going to die.
Is this what it would feel like to have dinner wedged between the leaders of the United States, the UK, China, and Russia? My head was a mess, and I couldn't make sense of anything being said.
I… once again, stayed fucking still.
“Even if I had the chance to turn back time, I would make the same decision. It’s not just because of my values. It’s because I was certain that by saving this boy, I could save more people than the Overlord would kill.”
*Thump!*
The Sword Saint, perhaps thinking this was the perfect moment, slammed his hand down on the round table, his eyes flashing.
What the hell is this madman doing?
“You have a habit of saving people first, even if they have no value. What was it last time? You almost let a high-ranking Mazoku escape because you chased after a Mutant to save some nobody private, didn’t you?”
“Indeed. Don’t try to subtly bury your mistake under the boy’s potential. Your judgment was a clear error. A persistent, uncorrected error. This matter will be discussed again later at the disciplinary committee.”
The Elven Queen and the Orc Great Chieftain saw right through the Sword Saint's cunning move.
“…Well, yes.”
The Sword Saint clicked his tongue as if it were a waste and sat back down.
“Come on! Let’s not be so rigid! Even if the Sword Saint didn’t really think it through… the outcome! It wasn’t so bad in the end!”
“Certainly, if all the Sword Saint says is true, this child will save countless lives in the future. The potential is limitless. If, one day, this boy reaches the current Sword Saint’s level…”
The emperor trailed off, glancing at the Sword Saint as if offering him an opening.
“The tide of this war will turn! Not only the Demon King, but we might even be able to shove that damn devil back into hell where he belongs!”
The Sword Saint, convinced this was the real timing, slammed his hand on the table once more as he spoke.
“…”
At the Sword Saint's words, a murmur went through the leaders.
The end of the war.
The death of the Demon King and the devil.
To think that their long-awaited dream could begin with this small, frail, white-haired boy the Sword Saint had brought with him.
…The weight of their expectations is so heavy, my heart feels like it’s going to explode.
“It won’t take long for him to reach my level. Since he is a blank slate who has yet to learn anything, three years at most. In three years, this boy will reach the heights I stand upon. I believe we cannot afford to lose a genius like this.”
He thinks I can grow to his level? In three years?
I’d played this game countless times, but even with the most optimized build, it took at least ten years to reach the max level.
In the real world, that was only about three weeks to a month, of course.
‘…But they’re telling me to become as strong as the Sword Saint in three years?’
The Sword Saint’s current party members were top experts in their respective fields, but compared to him, they were nothing.
The Sword Saint was, for all intents and purposes, a decisive weapon of humanity forged by the gods.
There was even a joke that if there were two Sword Saints, the tedious 30-year war would end in three days, and if there were three, the Demon King and the devil would hang themselves and return to hell without a fight.
Just three years.
In three years, I had to take a level 1 character and raise him to nearly level 90.
And I couldn’t use power-leveling spots or glitches.
Because this was a shitty reality.
“The Grand Marshal formally requests this. I ask that you appoint the boy beside me, Sir Bin, as an official general of the allied forces and that the empire provide him with its full material and spiritual support for his growth.”
Diligently studying, training, practicing, and honing my skills.
In this insane world where that was the only path to strength.
I had to become Humanity’s Decisive Weapon mk.2 in just three years.
“Can you truly do it?”
The Human Emperor stroked his beard in thought, then asked me in a cautious voice.
“…Hoo.”
All I could do was try to steady my breathing.
And no matter how much I insisted I wasn’t a genius, they wouldn’t believe me.
It was a fact that the Overlord had misunderstood me, and it was also a fact that I had somehow fought against him and survived with all my limbs intact.
If I tried to clear up the misunderstanding, they would surely dismiss it as humility or some other nonsense and pester me even more, just as the Sword Saint had.
And what would happen if I did clear up the misunderstanding? I would be cast out onto the capital's streets as a vagrant with nothing to my name.
‘…On top of that, I have to consider that bastard Maltiel is still after my life.’
The Overlord Maltiel would still be under the impression that I was a genius mage.
Given the Overlord’s persistent, paranoid, and dreadfully cautious nature, he would undoubtedly return to kill me.
If I revealed the truth—that I was just a mage with a bizarre build—and cleared up the misunderstanding, I would have to start from scratch like any other ordinary mage.
Without the Sword Saint's protection or the empire's support.
…I would probably have my head lopped off by Maltiel in less than three days.
So, I didn’t really have a choice.
I had to exploit this misunderstanding completely.
As long as they mistook me for a genius of the century, they would spare no expense, material or otherwise, for my growth.
With their full support, I would be able to level up my character at an unprecedented speed.
It was dangerous, but it was a misunderstanding with just as many benefits.
“Well…”
As I steeled myself and began to open my mouth, the image of the cart piled high with the bodies of soldiers flashed through my mind.
The image of them, skin swollen and bluish, bones exposed, yet still clutching their weapons to the very end, was vivid.
“…What the hell.”
To introduce myself here as a half-baked mage who had simply chosen a weird build would be an insult to their sacrifice.
The men who had laid down their lives for me in that forest that day could not be remembered as ‘fools who died for nothing, mistaking a hipster with a strange build for a genius mage.’
I couldn't tarnish the honor of those who had sacrificed themselves to save a nameless mage they could have left on the roadside.
They had to be remembered as ‘true heroes who saved an asset who would be responsible for the future of humanity.’
“I’ll give it a shot. How hard can it be?”
With that one impulsive phrase.
I decided to live as a genius from this day forward.