A Conversation with a Viper

The two who strutted in through the heavy fog of stale liquor ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and cigarette smoke carried themselves like masters of the manor, shoulders squared and chins tilted high.

"......"

"......"

"......"

Amid the lingering, awkward silence, Berga—his expression as rigid as cast iron—sneered in utter contempt.

"Utterly pathetic. Indulging in drink in the midst of this chaos."

By 'chaos,' he obviously meant the post-battle reconstruction. Even at this very moment, the faint wails of mourning and the clamor of construction echoed through the window. As the vice-commander of the knight order, he was undoubtedly swamped to the point of suffocation.

"Heh-heh. Isn't that the sole privilege of being a scoundrel?"

"Ha! Look at you, so full of yourself! You think you're hot shit just because you babbled some nonsense from the rear? You're completely delusional! The ones who actually bled and fought were Father and the knights!"

Offended by my nonchalant reply, Weller, the second daughter, shrieked at me, but I merely smirked.

"Of course I know. Yeah, I don't consider it my accomplishment either. I'm just glad my running mouth was of any help."

"What? Are you taking a shot at me right now? Are you saying I have no right to talk when I did nothing, while at least you flap your gums?!"

I couldn't hide my sheer bewilderment at her mental gymnastics.

"Talk about a leap in logic. Good grief, dear sister, did you roll in the political mud or something? How do you twist my words like that?"

"Given how you usually act, how could I not?!"

"Haaah... You must live an exhausting life. Whatever. Just state your business."

"What did you say? You little...!"

"Enough, Weller. We did not come here to squabble."

"...Tsk!"

Clicking her tongue, Weller glared at me as if she wanted to murder me on the spot. Meeting her death glare without flinching, I took a swig of liquor and turned my head toward Berga.

"Stanasila Alzen. Name the source of your information."

"Sigh. Are you throwing this whole tantrum over that again?"

"...Watch your tongue, Alzen."

"Why does that damn source matter so much to you...? Good grief, didn't Quino relay my words? I said I just woke up knowing it one day."

"Meaning a god has possessed your body?"

"That's not... Whatever, let's just say that's it. Yes, something possessed my body and I got the information from it. Happy now?"

Come to think of it, that wasn't technically a lie. From the perspective of 'Stanasila Alzen,' a soul named 'Kang Han-gil' had suddenly seized control of his vessel out of nowhere. Though where the original bastard had gone, I had no clue.

"...It seems you have no intention of speaking truthfully."

Watching Berga narrow his eyes in displeasure, I lazily waved my hand.

"I haven't the faintest idea what kind of answer you want. And really, what does it matter anyway?"

"Nonsense. Your treatment will differ depending on where and how you obtained that intelligence."

"Heh-heh. What, going to lock me up and torture me?"

"If necessary."

"Goodness gracious, my dearest elder brother is so cold-blooded. So, is that all you came for? If so, I'd appreciate it if you got the hell out."

"No, we are not done. Disclose everything you know."

"Ho-oh. About what? From where to where?"

"Everything. From beginning to end."

"...Well, well. Look at this..."

Gulp, gulp!

Draining what little remained in the bottle, I hurled it straight at Berga's head with all my might.

Thwack.

Without a flicker of disturbance, he caught it out of midair.

"Not an older brother, but a damn bandit, eh?"

"I never expected you to cooperate willingly."

Berga drew a peculiarly shaped circlet from inside his coat. It wriggled like an earthworm, coated in dark inky hues, centered around a sinister yellow gem.

"Oh. Custo's Cursed Crown? Where on earth did you get your hands on that?"

"...So the one who forged this was named Custo."

"What? You brought it without even knowing that?"

Snickering, I recalled the artifact's effects. It definitely wasn't a combat relic; I remember occasionally using it when seducing female characters in the game... Ah, right. Loss of reason, impairment of judgment... and an engraving effect. Anyone forced into wearing it had to answer the user's questions with absolute honesty. If their resistance to curses was particularly low, it could even reduce them to complete obedience, if I remembered correctly.

"You plan to slap that on me? I know there aren't lasting side effects, but aren't you going too far?"

"W-Wait! Berga! You never said anything about this! And a curse...?! Isn't that contraband?!"

Weller's shrill voice screeched gratingly. It appeared she hadn't been informed beforehand. Berga smoothly ignored the shrieks coming from beside him.

"Alzen. If you cooperate, there will be no need to use this. So, quietly—"

"Pfft-hahaha. Man, you're getting awful greedy. But brother, do you really think a cheap trick like that will make me roll over?"

As I uncorked a fresh bottle of liquor with an easygoing grin, Berga's brow furrowed. He clearly couldn't fathom my confidence... but I had my own card to play.

"......"

Before anyone realized, Muriel had stepped in front of me, staring coldly at the two of them.

"...Who is this?"

"I am Muriel, entrusted with Master Alzen's protection and personal attendance."

"Escort and attendant... I see. A Shadow Knight."

"......"

"Do you intend to interfere?"

"Should any harm threaten Master Alzen, I shall eliminate the source with all my strength."

"...Tsk! Father's countermeasure was faster than anticipated."

Tucking the cursed crown back into his coat, he glared at me.

"Stanasila Alzen. I shall let it pass for today. But next time..."

"Heh. If there's something you want to know, why take such an obnoxious route instead of just asking? I could tell you about the whereabouts of your first love, or maybe a few dark secrets from your Academy days."

"What's that? I've never heard of this! Now I'm dying to know!"

Weller's crimson eyes sparkled with keen interest.

"We are leaving for today. Weller. Let's go."

"Huh? If you want to leave, go alone. I want to hear this."

"...Weller."

"Oh, what! You brought that cursed crown without telling me, didn't you?! I'll keep your secret, so scram already!"

"......"

Scowling deeply, Berga departed the room with sluggish, reluctant strides, quite unlike his arrival. He backed off easier than I expected. Did he just come to sound a warning?

In the now-quiet room, I swirled my bottle and locked eyes with Weller, who was staring intently at me.

"So, I doubt you actually stayed just to hear about brother's first love..."

"Huh? Oh, I really do want to hear that. The dark history part sounds utterly fascinating too."

"......"

She was undoubtedly gifted with a sharp, brilliant intellect, yet because she was so hot-tempered and governed by whim, she didn't give off an ounce of calm rationality. Which made reading her inner thoughts all the more difficult. Frankly, she was far more troublesome to deal with than Berga.

"...I thought you would ask about some new invention or magic theory, sister."

"If I ask, will you tell me?"

"Depends on my mood."

"Tsk. Trash bastard. Figures."

"Harsh words..."

Chuckling under my breath, I dragged on my cigarette as she scrutinized me. Oh, by the way, Muriel had already prepared tea and refreshments and set them before Weller. She was so absurdly competent it was borderline intimidating.

"...You really have changed a bit."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Before, you used to sneak glances like a cornered rat, eyes drowning in inferiority. Now there's none of that. I can't feel any of that dark, sticky, rotten negativity from you anymore."

"......"

Without replying, I exhaled a puff of smoke and held her gaze.

"Is that also because of whatever is dwelling inside your body?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Sister, do you actually believe that nonsense?"

"You said so yourself, didn't you? Besides, whenever you lie, you have a habit of twitching the pinky on your right hand. You didn't do that earlier."

"Bwahaha! That's quite the elaborate lie you're spinning."

If Stanasila Alzen possessed such a distinct habit, it would without fail have been documented in the character setting bible. Those obsessive developers of Origin World lived and died by useless trivial details.

"Hmm... Didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠buy it, huh? But you know..."

Her head tilted to the side.

"How can you be so certain I'm lying? It's not as if a person knows every single one of their own unconscious habits."

...Oops. Did I slip up there?

"Who knows? Why do you think?"

To gloss over it, I deliberately dropped the polite tone to provoke her, but she didn't take the bait.

"You. You've come to know 'yourself.'"

"......"

While not the exact truth, it was sharp enough to momentarily render me speechless.

"I see. Then that certainly explains why your attitude changed. Fine. Not bad. The scum-like things you did in the past won't disappear, but reformation is better than nothing, right?"

The playful smile on her face abruptly vanished, her crimson eyes flashing with lethal intent.

"It's not as if whatever took up residence inside you stole your body and is pulling the strings. Right?"

"......"

I couldn't tell if she was merely probing or genuinely convinced, which made it impossible to decide how to react. Exhausting someone this thoroughly just through mere conversation was practically a talent in itself.

"Haaah... And what if it were?"

"...Nothing. Someone like Alzen could drop dead or vanish into thin air for all I care."

"Cold-blooded."

"Given what you've done, of course. Still, you're family, so as a first and final gesture of affection, I might consider seeking revenge."

"Hmm, you take after Mother in that regard."

"Though you don't resemble a single soul."

Uttering words that would have sent the real Alzen into a frothing rage with a bright smile, she sipped her tea without losing her expression. It felt like conversing with a venomous viper. Uncomfortable, stifling, and utterly repulsive.

"Phew... So, when are you going to tell me the story?"

"Huh?"

"Brother's first love story! And his dark history! Hurry up and tell me! I'm dying of curiosity!"

I cocked my head at her abrupt shift in topic, staring blankly. I had no clue what was going on in that head of hers.

"What happened to the revenge?"

"What kind of bullshit is that?"

"You said you'd avenge him if I wasn't Alzen."

"So, are you saying you're someone else?"

"......"

Was this... a threat? Telling me to act like Alzen? Or was she asking because she genuinely didn't know?

"Hah..."

Something simmered irritably ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in my chest, but I shoved it down and downed another gulp of booze.

"Pffft-haaah... Do you seriously want to hear brother's first love story?"

"Of course! You think I'm sitting here because I like looking at your face?"

"Well, if that's the case..."

Gulp.

"Allow me to spin quite the lively tale."

Spilling humiliating gossip about that obnoxious Berga was something I welcomed with open arms, so I aired out every dirty secret on the spot. Personality quirks aside, Weller made for a magnificent listener. Eyes sparkling with amusement, exaggerated reactions, well-timed chiming in, and spicy trash talk to boot. Halfway through, both of us caught the mood, passing the bottle back and forth until our faces flushed deep crimson with drunken revelry.

A few hours later.

"Whew... Today was quite fun, Alzen."

Having burned off the alcohol in a flash with mana manipulation and a potion, she rose to her feet with an aloof, impeccable posture.

"Heh... Whassup with wastin' a good buzz..."

"I loathe showing an unsightly side to others. Until next time."

Giving my face a single glance in lieu of a farewell, she turned and walked out of the room.

"......"

Stanasila Weller. A far more dangerous woman than I had anticipated. I couldn't fathom what she believed my true identity to be... but it changed nothing about what a nuisance she was. ...Could I kill her?

"Muriel."

"Yes, Master Alzen."

"Would you carry out an assassination if I ordered it?"

"That... I apologize. It falls outside the scope of my duties."

"Is that so."

Letting out a soft sigh, I flopped down onto the sofa.

That evening, a Shadow Knight belonging to Stanasila Urtega covertly delivered a single relic to me. A relic, true to its name, referred to items unearthed from ancient dungeons or ruins. According to the lore, they were imbued with the lost technology and magic of ancient civilizations, boasting performance that vastly outclassed modern artifacts.

"......"

It was the very first Legendary Grade relic I had seen since coming to this world, leaving me utterly dumbfounded for a moment.