The Abandoned Rose Palace
The audience hall inside the dilapidated castle was broken in places and coated in dust. Once, this would have been a grand space with a massive chandelier, family crests proudly embroidered on banners, and armored knights standing imposingly between the rows of arched pillars. Now the banners hung in tatters, the floor and walls were cracked and crumbling.
The Rose Palace. That was what the castle had once been called. Every week banquets were held, and because rose-filled goblets were passed around at each feast, it earned that name. Its master had been a young count who delighted in sharing his wealth and youth with friends and lovers—a dissolute man who, on the very last night of his life, had still been enjoying the after-party of a banquet with his mistresses in his private villa.
But the next day, when the hungover young count rang for his servants from the arms of his lovers, it was not servants who answered.
Minasid. Originally named the Manor of Minasid, the castle had fallen in less than an hour during the last great war when the demonic beast legion suddenly descended. At a time when even the Demon King Thanatos’s appearance was not yet widely known, Minasid was one of the first five fortresses on the surface to collapse.
Afterward it became the stronghold of the Beast Legion Commander Ryban, yet to him such a castle—especially one built for lavish banquets—held little value. The time he actually spent there was extremely short.
Thus the Rose Palace, once called Minasid, had already been effectively abandoned from the moment the demon king’s army was sweeping across more than half the surface. It gradually lost its luster, reduced to little more than barracks for beasts and soldiers.
Now nothing remained of its former glory. Only the traces of wild beasts that had made their dens here, the scars left from the first battle, and the walls that had collapsed during brawls among the beast soldiers remained, ugly and forlorn.
—……
Yet to the master of this place, none of that mattered now, just as it had not mattered then. Around a half-broken old chair, countless black beast-shaped figures had gathered. Though their forms and sizes differed, they were all clones of the Beast Legion Commander Ryban.
—…The hero is late.
—Late. Late. So late.
—We clearly conveyed our will.
“Maybe he just didn’t do it properly?”
Some spoke through consciousness, others with their own voices. Each had a different tone, a different manner of speech. Though the differences were great enough to make it hard to believe they were the same person, they were all Ryban’s clones.
—Still, it was a mistake to entrust it to such an imperfect specimen in the first place. He insisted he would at least handle the messenger role himself, so we let him, but as expected, an imperfect product is……
At that moment, a three-headed werewolf clone seized the head of the clone who had been speaking.
“Do not forget the respect due to the First! He understood his mission better than any of us! That is why he volunteered for the most fitting role on our behalf……!”
He extended his claws, ready to crush the other’s skull at any second. The clone whose head was gripped raised bristling, thorn-like fur and began drawing up lightning.
“Enough!”
But at that instant, a tremendous roar from outside the castle froze every clone in place.
“What do you think you’re doing, fighting among yourselves!”
The solemn, majestic voice from beyond the walls made the two clones separate at once.
“…He is right. ‘The Last’ spoke truly. Though there are differences, we are all the same existence. Even if our opinions diverge, conflict is meaningless.”
Among the countless clones, the one who now stepped forward was wrapped head to toe in bandages, his true appearance hidden. At least outwardly, his form was no different from a human’s.
—Still, it is taking far too long. Even if the First failed to give them the exact location, they should have been able to guess we would be in Minasid.
“Moreover, it is the hero we are dealing with. If he heard our will, he would not waste time needlessly.”
—Yes. He will respond. If it is the one who fought the Original……
“That is why we came out. That is why we prepared like this……”
—Then why is he so late! We have already gathered the beast legion and prepared the stage!
‘This is……!’
Hirde, watching the clones from a corner a short distance away, felt as though not only his body but the entire space was shaking from the clones’ consciousness and voices. The will and emotions transmitted through the magic stone embedded in his body were so complex and intense that it was difficult to maintain his own sanity, yet what tormented him was not those surface emotions.
Deep within each clone, beneath their slightly different personalities, lay a single shared feeling. That heavy, tenacious, and desolate emotion was what tormented him.
“…Then maybe they played some trick on us?”
The bandaged clone spoke.
—A trick? What do you mean?
“Isn’t it strange that Olsidra, that subordinate of Urshus, came to us in the first place? The very moment we could no longer bring creatures out of the Ancient Forest, he appeared as if he had been waiting, and even supplied us with additional mana. Then he helped us face the hero. Doesn’t everything seem to have gone too smoothly?”
—But what benefit would helping us bring them?
—He is a demon, after all, and one who seeks to expand his influence according to Urshus’s will. It would benefit them if the hero disappeared.
“You really think they helped us because they believed we could actually defeat the hero?”
At his words, the image of Olsidra’s gaze as he had looked at them rose in every clone’s mind. A heavy silence followed. Hirde, standing quietly to the side, did not need to hear an answer.
—…Then why?
“Whatever the case, the very fact that our existence is conveyed to the hero must be what benefits them. The fact that they have made no contact since then is proof enough.”
Another silence settled.
“Grr.”
Several clones growled low. It was anger—rage and hostility toward those who treated them like chess pieces, hatred for those who were sullying their final, all-or-nothing battle.
—…Yes. Perhaps that is the case. And that is why the hero has not come to us yet.
—Olsidra, Urshus—whoever it is, how dare they defile the final will of the Beast Legion Commander Ryban, of us!
“Let’s go right now! Right now!”
The intense fury that engulfed all the clones made Hirde curl up even tighter. Any movement at all felt as though he would be torn apart on the spot, erased as something that was not Ryban.
“Don’t say anything foolish.”
Yet only one clone—the bandaged one—remained relatively free of that rage. He continued in a calm but cold voice.
“We could probably handle Olsidra and the other humans. But are you saying we should fight Urshus, who is said to be on the same level as Nix? And don’t forget—we don’t have much time left. If we are going to fight the hero, we cannot afford to waste even a single bit of our strength.”
—If we use the beasts……
“They are summoners. With Olsidra present, a beast legion of that size means nothing.”
Silence fell again, but the clones’ consciousnesses continued to exchange thoughts. After a while, the bandaged clone and two others stepped forward from among the many.
“Then the three of us will go. We will show Olsidra and his master Urshus the true will of the Beast Legion Commander Ryban.”
* * *
After returning home, I asked the others various questions to see if there was anything more to learn, but they all kept their mouths shut. It seemed they had no desire to form unnecessary bonds, and moreover, they did not appear to possess any particularly useful information.
Olsidra probably held more important information than the others, but questioning him now would only arouse unnecessary suspicion.
Of course, when that madman had tried to say something the moment he saw my face, I had quickly told Olsidra I was going to pray and come down to this basement.
“Prayer, huh.”
Even though it was called a basement for prayer, it was not some place with magic circles drawn on the floor or ritual tools prepared. It was simply an ordinary basement with a lighting orb and a single chair in the middle, and a pile of miscellaneous items stacked against the far wall.
“She really didn’t steal this house from the original druid, did she?”
I wondered if there might be a corpse hidden somewhere in the basement or behind the newly plastered walls, but I decided not to think too deeply about it.
First, I locked the door. They had said no one would disturb me and that everyone was free to use their time as they wished, but it was always better to be cautious. I summoned a spirit to alert me if anything happened, then took the crystal from my pocket.
“…What if she gets angry?”
It had already been several days since I last visited her. She would understand the circumstances, but still, I felt strangely nervous all of a sudden.
After muttering the usual words to the crystal, the scenery around me changed and I entered the study.
‘You’re late!’
I had expected to hear her voice shouting that, but strangely, even after some time passed, there was no sound at all. Feeling uneasy, I turned my head—yet she was nowhere to be seen.
“……?”
The scene before my eyes was difficult to comprehend, but I was already running toward it on instinct.
How? Why on earth was she gone? In that moment, my mind was a whirl of countless thoughts.
‘Did she escape?’
Yes. How could I have forgotten? She had nearly broken the barrier last time as well. It was possible she had tried again, and this time she might have succeeded.
‘Then what……!’
If she had escaped, what was I supposed to do now? What if she suddenly walked out from between those bookshelves? Should I smile and greet her, or run away immediately?
I did not think the goodwill she had shown me recently was false. But what if that was merely my foolish hope, and she had actually been putting on a masterful performance? How could I be sure?
After all, I had once been her enemy and had kept her imprisoned for years. Could I really claim she held no grudge?
My head was a mess. A strange mixture of hope and anxiety twisted together, giving rise to a gloomy, unpleasant fear. I stood before the space where she had been confined. The round floor surrounded by a transparent wall was completely empty.
I reached out and touched the wall. It was still there. The medium and mana source were still functioning properly as well.
“How on earth……?”
At that very moment, black flames flared up brilliantly from inside the wall.