Rescue the Boss (2)
"You! Our eldest son, the heir of House Georg, was beaten within an inch of his life, and you intend to just sit there and do nothing?!"
Not this again. Mev felt his stomach churn at the sight of his wife storming into his study, shrieking at the top of her lungs.
"It's over and done with, my dear. Let it go."
"Over and done with?! Who let it be over and done with? You went and acted on your own! I never agreed to any of it!"
This quarrel had been repeating itself day after day, ever since Meg Georg, heir to the Georg County, had returned home after assaulting a foreign count in another nation's territory.
What an endless headache.
She never listens to reason, so I have no confidence I could persuade her even if I tried. How long is this commotion going to burn on?
"This is an order from your lord and head of this house, madam. Enough."
"What in the world makes that wretched House Alrn so untouchable?! They're nothing but a count family guarding the borderlands of some backwater kingdom! Whatever they may have been in the past, now they're nothing more than a wolf that's lost its teeth—"
"Hah."
As his wife carried on shouting, Mev let out a long, pointed sigh — loud enough that it could not have gone unnoticed.
She immediately raised her voice further, demanding to know if he was daring to ignore her, but Mev cut her off by raising his mana and pressing a wave of raw intimidation over the room until her mouth snapped shut.
"My dear. I was there, once, in the territorial dispute between the Soladin Kingdom and the Magic Empire."
It had been a dungeon that lit the fuse of that conflict.
A dungeon had appeared along the very border dividing the Magic Empire from the Soladin Kingdom, and both nations' nobles dispatched their soldiers to conquer it.
Naturally, the conquerors immediately clashed over whose flag the dungeon should fall under — the kingdom's or the empire's.
Under ordinary circumstances, a dispute of that sort would be settled amicably through negotiation between the nobles governing the territories in question.
But back then, circumstances were anything but ordinary.
It was fuel thrown onto a fire that had already been smoldering between kingdom and empire — a quarrel begging to happen.
What should have been a matter for negotiation curdled, almost overnight, into a war of national pride, and the military might of both countries began massing along the border.
Like a line of dominoes that topples at the merest touch, the whole arrangement collapsed at the first breath of wind — and so the war began.
On that front line stood Mev, then making his name as a prodigy of magic, and Benedict Alrn, the beast they called the guardian of the kingdom.
"I saw it. A monster, charging in alone, tearing a battle line apart with his bare hands."
Benedict had taken no mount, taken no guard, and simply placed himself at the very head of the charge, driving straight into the heart of the front.
Any ordinary man would have been blown to dust under that hail of fire. Benedict was not an ordinary man. He absorbed every last blow with his body and ripped the battle line to shreds.
And that was not all. In the middle of that churning melee, he had knocked out the enemy field commander and several nobles besides, and carried them off like sacks of grain.
"I saw it. A comet, torn apart by a blade wielded by a single man."
Meteor Strike — a spell forged through the combined effort of the Magic Empire's countless mages.
The kingdom's finest had worn it down, weakened it, but it was Benedict Alrn who ended it.
He swung a blunt slab of iron nearly as large as his own body — calling it a sword was a courtesy — and split the comet clean in two.
"I saw it. One house, one man, overturning the outcome of a war."
When that war ended, it was the kingdom that stood victorious.
Countless factors went into that victory, no doubt — but the one that stood out above all others, unmistakably, was Benedict Alrn.
From that day forward, whenever anyone asked Mev who the strongest house on the continent was, he answered without hesitation: House Alrn.
Even after Lucy's birth, when Benedict began avoiding the public eye and whispers started circulating among the young generation that the beast's fangs had finally fallen out — even then, his answer never changed.
"I will say it once more. I have no intention — none whatsoever — of making an enemy of House Alrn. I have no wish to feel the fangs of the kingdom's guardian beast reaching for this land."
Because if it came to that, a monster wearing human skin would arrive here in a white-hot rage and tear everything apart.
Having said his piece, Mev leaned back in his chair and exhaled a long, weary breath.
Ordinarily, Mev made every effort to respect his wife's wishes. This time, however, was different.
This was a matter bearing on the very survival of his house.
There could be no compromise.
"Go."
When Mev spoke with that finality, the countess could no longer find another word to say.
The master of House Georg, after all, was Mev — not her.
Barely had the countess swept out of the room, indignation written all over her face, when one of the household servants came sprinting through the door.
Gasping for breath, the servant still managed a proper bow.
"What is it?"
"The young lady of House Alrn says she has a matter of some urgency she wishes to discuss with you, my lord."
At the servant's words, Mev covered his eyes with one hand.
O great Chief God above. Please, let this house know peace.
"My lord?"
"I will go to her myself. Where is the young lady?"
"We have shown her to the drawing room."
"Good work."
Gods, let it be nothing serious.
Convincing Benedict turned out to be simple.
"Karia is alive? Is it truly so?"
"Do I really have to say it twice, you silly papa?♡"
When I explained to Benedict that Karia was alive and that saving her would require his help, he declared he would finish only the most urgent business pending and come straight away.
"Give me a single day. I'll have everything settled within it."
So the man who was guaranteed to be at least as strong as Karia in her prime — quite possibly stronger — had promised to join us. As far as I was concerned, the battle against Karia was as good as won.
But my goal was never simply to defeat Karia. It was to pry her free from the Evil God's curse.
The world of Soul Academy featured several characters afflicted by the Evil God's curse.
True to the game's famously high freedom of choice, the moment a player encountered one of them, a decision was placed before them: mercilessly take their life, or somehow deliver them from the Evil God's curse.
Had that situation unfolded in reality, I suppose I would have been forced to pick one. And that choice would have been utterly, irrevocably permanent.
But that was a game — and I chose both.
See, clearing every single achievement in Soul Academy required playing through the massacre route and the mercy route at least once each.
Which is why, even in a situation like this one, I had a pretty good idea of how to save Karia.
The personnel required were as follows:
Someone capable of holding Karia head-on.
Someone able to neutralize the Evil God's magic she wielded.
And someone capable of peeling the Evil God's curse — the thing puppeteering her — right off of her.
I'd given this composition a fair bit of thought, you see.
Since we were already deploying the cheat code known as Benedict, why not milk it a little further?
It's not like I have to break my back every single time I clear one of my useless, good-for-nothing Chief God's quests, right?
Sometimes it's perfectly fine to stand in the back clapping while someone else does the heavy lifting. That's what I'm saying.
"Sir Benedict is coming to visit us, you say?"
At the news that Benedict would be arriving, Count Georg's lips began to tremble violently.
The reason was simple: I hadn't bothered to explain a single thing about the situation to him beforehand.
He was probably guessing that Benedict was coming in a fury over what his idiot son had done.
It's true this man suffers from chronic indecision, but he's still a man of some backbone — and seeing him quaking this badly tells me that yes, Benedict really is that terrifying.
Right. I've just shoved this man down into the depths of hell, so now it's time to throw him a rope.
Don't worry, my lord...
"Don't worry, you skittish little count. Dumb Papa isn't coming here because of that."
"Pardon? Then why on earth—"
I gave the count a rough sketch of what had happened inside the dungeon.
About Karia, twisted by a curse, and about Benedict who would be coming to save her.
I left out the part about the Evil God's seal. Explaining it and then convincing him of it would have been far too much work.
Unlike Karl or Gramps, this wasn't a man I could win over just by claiming the useless Chief God told me in a dream.
"He comes to rescue an old comrade-in-arms."
Hearing me out to the end, the count released a long breath of genuine relief.
"If that is the case, there is no problem whatsoever. I pledge not only his lodging, but my full and active cooperation in all related matters."
Really?...
"Really? Because there's something I actually wanted to ask of you anyway, you skittish little count."
"And what would that be?"
Join my party.
"Come into the dungeon with us. Don't tell me you're too frightened to do even that?"
For the role of holding Karia at the front, Benedict alone is more than enough. That's not just my speculation — Gramps nodded along to it, so it's a settled fact.
Which means all that's left is filling the other two slots.
And the first person I chose for one of those slots was Count Georg himself.
This man may look fantastically useless, but as a mage, he's a cut above the rest of humanity.
Even in the Magic Empire — a nation absolutely crawling with capable mages — he was hailed as a genius, a monster whose skill commanded genuine respect.
Under the right conditions, once he actually fought, he'd unleash dozens of elemental spells at once and torment players half to death — one of the trickiest bosses in the entire roster.
Normally, he is absolutely impossible to recruit as a party member. But this isn't the game, is it?
Which means none of those petty restrictions exist here.
"You mean... me?"
The count showed visible alarm. He clearly hadn't anticipated a request like this.
"I'm afraid that would be rather difficult. As the count charged with defending this land, I am bound by any number of duties and disciplines, and so I have always—"
Are you sure about that?...
"Shall I go tell Dumb Papa everything, then? About what your pervert of a son did to me, you skittish little count?"
Are you sure about that?
When he hears that Meg tried to seduce me, failed, and then tried to do me harm — how exactly do you think that certified daughter-fool is going to react?
I can't say for certain, but I'm guessing it won't be measured or moderate.
The count's pupils were shaking.
He'd fallen into hell, was clawing his way back up a rope — and I'd just told him I might cut the rope. Of course he was reeling.
"Is this... a threat?"
Yes. So what?...
"So what? Why? Are you angry? Does it grind your gears that a girl who's barely weaned is strutting around like she owns the place? Newsflash — you can't do a thing about it. Kuh. You gutless, skittish little count."
The count was right about one thing.
This was, unambiguously, a threat.
A threat I could make precisely because I had justification on my side, and because the walking calamity named Benedict was currently camped out behind me.
But Count Georg had no way to defy this threat.
However much he despised the insolent little brat standing before him, there was nothing he could do about it.
His own idiot son had committed the offense first.
The Count Georg who had once looked down on me from on high now found the view reversed, his head twisted around to gaze up at me from below.
Don't worry...
"Don't worry. All you have to do is come into the dungeon and fight. Even if you're a hopeless coward, my lord, your magic isn't hopeless too — is it?"
He looked up at me from below, and I looked down at him.
At this moment, his answer was as good as decided already.
"...Truly, that is all you require?"
Yes. Of course. That's all, and nothing else will come of it.
"Of course. That's all it takes, and both you, you skittish little count, and your perverted little piece-of-trash son get to walk away in one piece. Isn't that lovely?"
"...Very well."
With a voice steeped in sighs, Count Georg nodded.