An Audience with the Patriarch
A gaze pinned me down from on high.
I was slumping on the floor, while he stood ramrod straight, looking down at me with sharp eyes that pressed against my entire body with overwhelming weight. It was the presence of an absolute powerhouse, radiating an unavoidable, suffocating pressure without even trying.
Stanasila Urtega.
One of the few Sword Masters in the vast Galante Empire.
Even in his mid-forties, his vigor and martial realm remained undiminished. He had amassed countless achievements, and his upright, spotless character served as a model for knights and nobles across the realm.
...Or so Aljen's memories and the game's setting guide claimed.
Well, none of that changed the fact that in the end, he would turn traitor to humanity and side with the demons.
"Uh... I'm not entirely sure what's going on here..."
"Stanashila Aljen. What do you know, and how much do you know?"
While I was still reeling over why I had been brought here, a question flew at me from someone who clearly had no intention of waiting for me to pull myself together. The words landed with crisp articulation, yet his lips barely parted; had I not caught the faint twitch of his well-groomed beard, I wouldn't have even realized he had spoken.
"...You curious where I got my information?"
"Yes. Tell me everything."
"Mmh..."
In short, had I just been kidnapped?
His reaction was faster than expected. Then again, coming from him, it made sense. The information I had dropped was just that sensitive.
"......"
So, how should I handle this?
I tried to force my gears to turn, but my head felt sluggish and foggy. On top of that, the creeping weight of reality was slowly tightening its grip around me.
"Tsk...!"
Without booze and a smoke, keeping my composure was an uphill battle.
"Uh, first off, get me some liquor and cigars."
"...Aljen. Do you take me for a fool playing games?"
"Hey, I'm not playing around either, so cough up the drink and the smokes! Hurry!"
Irritation flared, and the shout slipped out before I could stop it. Coming to my senses a beat later, I cautiously checked his expression.
"...Hoo."
After a moment of silence, he let out a low sigh and turned his head toward the empty air.
"Are you there?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Bring alcohol and cigars."
"At once."
Following that brief exchange with an unseen figure, he fixed his impassive gaze back on me. I stared back, my eyes equally blank, though my mind was wandering elsewhere entirely.
Hmm...
Was the one who just answered the Duke a Shadow Knight?
According to the setting guide, unlike regular knights, they specialized in stealth, concealment, and assassination. Conditioned into absolute obedience and loyalty, they were the indispensable tools of high nobility. The process of raising them was gruesome, ruthless, and deeply inhumane, making them tragic figures kept in the shadows—a dirty secret everyone knew about but tacitly ignored. In the game, of course, they were mostly treated as cannon-fodder mobs, swarming like moths to a flame only to be cut down in seconds by the player.
I had no idea the righteous Sword Master Stanasila Urtega kept Shadow Knights of his own. I guess no one was entirely clean if you shook the dust off them.
"Oh?"
When I snapped back to reality, a bottle of high-end brandy, cigars, and a plate of snacks like roasted nuts and cheese were already resting neatly on the low table.
"Oho... Bringing snacks without even being asked? Your Grace's Shadow Knight has quite the eye."
"......"
Ignoring his stony silence, I uncorked the brandy and chugged straight from the bottle.
Gulp, gulp!
"Khh...!"
Savoring the fiery, heavy heat trailing down my esophagus, I tossed a cube of cheese into my mouth, lit a cigar with a spark of magic, and drew the smoke deep into my lungs.
"Fuuu... Haaah!"
Only when the harsh liquor and tobacco smoke saturated my lungs and brain did my body finally relax. The gears in my head began spinning at full tilt, and my shaky, fragmented consciousness locked firmly into place.
"Can we get down to business now, Aljen?"
"Ah... Sure, sure. Of course, of course. Now, what were we talking about again...?"
"The source of your information."
"The source? Ah, that... Honestly, the only thing I can say is that I just happen to know."
"...Aljen. Are you determined to see blood?"
"Whoa, come on, does a father really need to talk that viciously to his own son? Torture, interrogation... pffft, haaah... My answer won't change either way. If you don't like that one, I could tell you that I spent years wandering the world as a hero, observing the realm and uncovering all kinds of secrets, mysteries, and classified intel. Which one do you prefer?"
Gulp!
As I took another swig and grinned, his brow twitched ever so slightly.
"...That nonsense about the fall of the ducal house. How much of it was serious?"
"Heheh... Father. Duke. That's not the question you really want to ask, is it? What you're actually curious about is the high demon that slipped into your bedroom last night."
"......"
"No, to be more precise... aren't you far more troubled by the doubts stirring in your own wavering heart?"
"...Speak."
"Gladly. Allow me to enlighten you."
Gulp!
Fuuu, haaah...
After swallowing another generous mouthful of brandy and savoring a long drag from the cigar, I leaned back against the sofa, letting my body go limp as I looked up at the towering man before me.
"To put it plainly, every single emotion you are currently feeling is an illusion."
"An illusion?"
"Yes, an illusion. Doubt and temptation don't exist in your heart. You left all that behind in your childhood. What remains in you now is an unshakeable spirit, ironclad conviction, and a ceaseless drive for self-improvement."
"You speak as though you have peered into my very soul."
His tone carried a trace of displeasure as he took a seat across from me in silence.
"How could I peer into someone's heart? I don't have that kind of power. I just know what I know."
I popped a nut into my mouth—expertly roasted to bring out its savory, rich flavor—and crunched down on it before swallowing.
"The hunger and craving for strength drilled into you since you were a boy, the grueling education, the nauseating training, a father who stood before you like an insurmountable wall... Heh, I can tell you right now, the previous patriarch was completely unfit to raise children. A downright terrible parent, really."
"......"
"And in the middle of all that, the war between the succession candidates spiraled out of control... resulting in your father dying a pathetic, powerless death. It shattered you. The man who had seemed like such an immense, impenetrable wall had met such an empty, meaningless end."
"......"
"That was when your tug-of-war with your inner demons began. A brief period of wandering, fleeing, adventuring, and eventual enlightenment... Hahaha! Your Grace's life hasn't exactly been smooth sailing either! Though from where I stand, completely devoid of talent, those sound like luxury problems."
Rambling through all the lore and background information tied to Stanasila Urtega while riding a buzz of alcohol, Aljen's own raw emotions accidentally slipped through.
SMACK!
I wound up and slapped my own face with everything I had.
Why the hell are you popping up on your own? Stay buried, damn it.
"What are you doing?"
"Heheh. Don't mind me. Just think of it as a brief spasm."
Gulp!
"Khh, haah... Anyway, it's because of those past memories that you're wavering. The suspicion that a raw craving for power might still linger deep down, doubts about your upright desire to improve, rationalizing the selfish desires any knight naturally possesses... Those are the things shaking you up. Am I wrong?"
"...You are not."
"That's why I'm telling you it's an illusion."
"What do you mean? Speak plainly. I distinctly felt those impulses stirring within me."
"Heheh. High demons truly are terrifying creatures. To think he could wield an artifact capable of shaking a Sword Master... Anyone else would have sold out humanity ages ago."
"An artifact... Come to think of it, you mentioned that before. An artifact that interferes with the mind, was it? Had such an item been used against me, there is no way I wouldn't have noticed. On what basis are you so certain it was an artifact?"
I chuckled and shook my head.
"It's no ordinary artifact. It's an avatar crafted by a high demon offering a fragment of their own soul to the Evil God. We call it an artifact for convenience, but it belongs to an entirely different category of existence. Demons call them Soul Gears. Oh, by the way, did the demon who slipped into your bedroom look like a snake, with a single spiral horn, membranous wings, a lizard's tail, green eyes, and green hair?"
"...Precisely."
"That would be the high demon Cambello. In that case, the Soul Gears he uses must be the Soul Pit. It's a vicious piece of work that harvests grudges and vengeful spirits through countless sacrifices, then channels them into a curse."
"Grudges, vengeful spirits, and curses..."
"Even a Sword Master is bound to be dull when it comes to that department. Your resistance probably isn't very high either... Ah, well, that's beside the point. Regardless, you might have felt a vague sense of dissonance, but under the sweet talk of that snake's tongue, you couldn't have figured it out. Your cognitive faculties and judgment grew dull, your repressed desires were stoked, and your confidence in yourself began to crumble."
Of course, this was only possible because a high demon's tier wasn't far behind that of a Sword Master.
Having said my piece, I quietly observed his reaction.
"...What is the countermeasure?"
There was no trace of rage, irritation, or murderous intent. Even upon learning the identity of the demon that had shaken his resolve, he remained completely still. It was just a guess, but he might very well be locked in battle against his inner demons at this very moment. If so, he was in a precarious state... I could only hope he would pull through. Honestly, it was remarkable that he could hold a conversation this calmly while his mind was under siege, all without losing his temper at my blatant disrespect.
"Who knows. How about visiting the Church for a purification and carrying a holy relic on you? It should help to some degree."
Gulp!
"Haah... Well, the ideal solution would be for Your Grace to cast off the delusion entirely on your own... but that's probably asking for too much."
"Why? Because my mental fortitude is lacking?"
"No, it's more about elemental compatibility against demons, not to mention your stat spread... Mmh, well, let's just leave it at that."
"...You leave far too many questions unanswered."
"Are you still curious about how I got this information?"
"That as well... but how can you remain so nonchalant? If what you say is true, I will betray humanity, stand with the demons, and personally bring ruin upon this ducal house."
"Do my feelings even matter?"
"...No, they do not."
"Then let's just move past it. Oh, and about those countermeasures. There actually is a much more effective method."
"Which is?"
"Crushing the scheme the demon is weaving across the ducal territory. The high demon Cambello specializes in necromancy, curses, and shamanism, so he isn't all that formidable on his own... but within his prepared territory, his power multiplies several times over."
"Are you saying this territory has already become his domain?"
"Not entirely. But it's only a matter of time. In fact, it feels like about half of it has already been compromised."
"...If I place my trust in you and grant you support, can you crush this plot?"
"Hahaha! It's a walk in the park! Provided you give me full authority, of course!"
"That... will be difficult."
"Is that so? Guess you're in for a rough time, then."
"......"
He silently watched me drink and exhale a cloud of cigar smoke, before finally asking in a low murmur,
"May I ask you one last question?"
"Haha. Since when did you need my permission? What are you curious about?"
"Has something... taken dwelling within your body?"
"...What on earth is that supposed to mean?"
I blinked at the bizarre inquiry, but he simply held my gaze with an unchanging, deadpan expression.
"The Goddess, or a divine entity of comparable standing... Has such a presence possessed you?"
"Bwahahaha! Has the Soul Pit fried your brains already, Father?! Listen to yourself! I'm not a high priest or a holy man, what kind of crazy nonsense is that?!"
"...I suppose so."
"Are we done here?"
"Leave."
Leaving only that single word, he rose from his seat and sat down behind his desk. I watched him blankly for a second, then scooped up the brandy, the snacks, and the cigars before heading back to my room.