Chapter 325: Tea Time (2)
Chapter 325: Tea Time (2)
“Your face is stiff.”
Those were the words Macbeth threw at me, following his previous question.
Even without him pointing it out, I was well aware of how tense I was. Macbeth’s words could be interpreted in countless ways.
I tried my best to master my inner turmoil and fix my expression, but before I could succeed—
“Relax. As I said before, there is no right or wrong when it comes to the principles of action that lie at a person’s core.”
Macbeth was faster. As he spoke, he gave a slight wave of his hand.
The teapot sitting in the center of the table floated into the air and poured tea into my empty cup. It was likely a gesture telling me to drink some tea and compose myself.
Following his unspoken intent, I took a gulp of the warm tea. It did help settle my nerves a little.
Clink.
I set the teacup, now missing about two sips' worth, back onto its saucer.
“Calmed down?”
“Mostly.”
I responded bluntly to Macbeth’s perfectly timed question.
“Good. Then, this time, it is not a question but a simple statement, so just listen.”
Knowing Macbeth’s personality, I knew this wasn't just idle chatter. I leaned back into the stiff chair, trying to relax as much as possible to stabilize my mind.
“Since you seem ready to listen, I shall continue.”
Macbeth spoke, then paused for a moment.
“Everyone has a Principle of Action. Of course, a person’s principle and their actual behavior do not always align. Human thoughts are complex, and humans are creatures that can easily betray even themselves depending on the situation.”
The explanation seemed to be heading in an odd direction. However, I didn't voice my complaints and simply listened in silence.
“I may have spoken grandly about your Principle of Action just now, but in reality, the proportion of your actions where you actually suffer a loss is quite small. Most of your actions are carried out based on instinct and your mood at the time, after which you tend to become a nuisance to those around you.”
Macbeth’s words cut me down with utter composure. Listening in silence, I felt a bit of heat rising in my chest.
“That’s a bit harsh, Old Man Macbeth. I won't deny that I live a bit recklessly, but I like to think I look out for those around me quite well.”
I offered a protest tinged with dissatisfaction, but—
“Is that so? As the ‘Commander,’ the number of times I’ve had to clean up after you is more than once or twice.”
Macbeth replied with a nonchalant face, placing heavy emphasis on one specific word.
“On the flip side, there’ve been plenty of times things turned out well because I stepped in. Isn’t that right, ‘Old Man’?”
I shot back, placing my own emphasis on a word.
The words were exchanged without malice or hostility. Nevertheless, they slightly disrupted the quiet atmosphere of the tea time.
Clink.
In the shifted atmosphere, as if by unspoken agreement, we both took a sip of our tea.
Clink.
And set the cups down simultaneously.
“I can prove that you live that way, however.”
Macbeth made the first move.
“Ha, then go ahead and prove it.”
Even if it was Macbeth, he wouldn't be able to prove it so easily. Of course, I agreed with about half of what he was saying, but saying I live purely on instinct while being a nuisance was a bit much. I wasn't some ferocious wild beast; I was an educated human being.
I waited to see what he would say, but what came back wasn't words, but a gesture.
Macbeth’s left hand rose, index finger extended while the others remained curled. He traced a small circle in the air.
A glowing line filled with mana began to draw itself from the tip of his finger. The glowing line followed the movement of his finger to form a circle, but instead of staying still, it spiraled outward.
A circle several times the diameter of the one his finger drew manifested. The vortex of light that began from the center eventually reached a point where it completed a thick, solid ring.
It flickered, scattering short bursts of light, and then projected a scene.
It was a place where the twilight had passed and night had newly fallen. However, because of the light sources flaring up here and there, it was easy to tell what was happening. It was the very place I had been just a short while ago.
The campus of the Geneva Branch of the Magic Society.
The place where I was being subjected to a witch trial.
Either their battle royale had ended, or they had voluntarily disbanded because I, the object of their hatred, had vanished. For one reason or another, the crowd had thinned out significantly compared to before, but those remaining were gathered in the courtyard doing something insane.
The wooden cross they were surrounding in the center was on fire. And on that cross where I had originally been hanging, someone else was now bound.
A figure with silver hair wearing a blue-based Magical Girl outfit.
To be precise, it wasn't a person. What was hanging there now was a... doll of the Magical Girl Crimson★Hammer.
A doll made of what looked like felt—resembling me yet not quite—was hanging on the cross, engulfed in flames. It looked like a religious gathering offering a sacrifice to an evil god.
The people were screaming and hurling magic at the burning doll. Fortunately, the image Macbeth was showing had no sound, so I couldn't hear what they were saying.
Of course, if I used lip-reading, I could figure it out, but it was certain to be sentences that weren't good for my mental health. Actually, lip-reading isn't exactly an on/off skill.
I could catch the gist of it—something about a thesis, something about an antique car, something about a test subject, something about installment payments.
Anyway.
“…Are they insane?”
Fighting among themselves was crazy enough, but now that I’m gone, they’re burning a doll like it’s a substitute for a phoenix? It was a bizarre sight that made me wonder if a religious cult would eventually spring up, worshipping me as The Root of all evil—Crimson★Hammer—an evil god.
“Even from my perspective, their behavior is quite extreme. But doesn't this prove my point?”
Macbeth said as he closed the Magic Circle projecting the image.
“Prove what?”
Uh, what were we talking about again? Seeing such a shocking sight had wiped my memory of why Macbeth had shown it to me in the first place.
“The point that you live more true to your instincts than your principles. More accurately, that you live while being a nuisance.”
“…Uh. Well.”
Honestly, I couldn't think of a logic to refute that. No matter how many times I shouted that it wasn't me, the fact that my actions had resulted in the mass production of humans who had lost their minds to that extent was undeniable.
“…I’m… sorry?”
Therefore, instead of a self-defensive argument, I threw a half-sincere apology into the air.
“There is no need to be sorry. I have certainly suffered my fair share of damage from your actions, but isn't acting that way a privilege of youth? Though, in my honest heart, since you are quite old yourself now, I do have a small wish that you would act as a better role model for others.”
…Ah, yes. I see.
How did this conversation suddenly turn into a lecture? To be lectured at this age… if there were a hole dug by a rat Mutant nearby, I’d want to crawl right into it.
As I sat there, my ego shrinking and self-deprecation bubbling up like foam inside me—
“Anyway, we’ve strayed far from the topic, but as I said, there are few who fully follow their principles of action. However, there are times when those subconscious principles completely bind a person’s choices. Do you know when that is?”
…Another question? And here I thought he told me to be comfortable. My body and mind are already in tatters, Commander Macbeth.
No, seriously. I’d rather have a staring contest with Elder Li or the Heavenly Sword.
“Uh. An extreme situation?”
It comes up a lot in fiction. ‘Now that you’re pushed to the brink, your true nature is revealed!’ sort of thing. It was also a sight I’d seen often on actual battlefields.
“That is not wrong, but that also falls into a larger category. Do you know what it is?”
“…Please just explain it.”
I’m tired. Really.
As I said that, sounding truly exhausted, I took a long sip of my tea.
“Is that so? Well, the story has grown long, so it is only right to move things along. The answer is: a choice. To be more precise, a choice so massive that it determines the future path of oneself or the group one belongs to. Within that choice, whether large or small, the Principle of Action one holds internally decides the direction of that choice.”
Is that so….
I didn't know why he was telling me this. The focus was supposed to be on the basic education of magic. Why had this suddenly become a lecture on human behavior?
“That is why I became curious about your proposal.”
Macbeth fell silent after those words, and a hush settled over the room, but his speech wasn't over yet.
“In the past, humans and the Awakened… feared one thing.”
“….”
I listened closely to the old story Macbeth was telling.
“Otherworldly Technology, Otherworldly races, Otherworldly physical laws, Otherworldly matter. And the Otherworldly Power that encompasses all of these. The fear was that these things would twist the reality we live in into something entirely different from the reality we knew.”
I knew those words. Even now, it was what some people claimed. That we must not rely on Otherworldly Power. That it is the power of invaders, not a righteous power for us to possess. That kind of claim.
“That anxiety exploded when we witnessed the massive nightmare that is Otherworld Erosion, which changes the world itself. Because of that, mentioning or researching anything related to the Otherworld was forbidden.”
Any Hero of the old era would know this. Why the Heroes once called the Awakened monopolized such technology. Why, even after the world was reorganized, everything related to it was controlled by a single supra-national group called the Management Bureau.
All of it was built upon that very anxiety.
Things related to the Otherworld should stay in the hands of those connected to the Otherworld. Thus, the Management Bureau, inheriting that will, took all those things unto itself.
To embrace that which was rejected.
The filth taken on by those who followed tradition eventually became the strength of the Management Bureau as the world changed, but that was how it began.
“Of course, the current world is different. Otherworldly Technology is used actively, and even civilians think nothing of the distortions in the world related to the Otherworld. Especially the younger generations born recently.”
Creak.
I heard a sound from somewhere, like wood twisting.
“This is also a thought that remains in our hearts because we lived through the old era. A thought held within, remembering a pure past that can no longer be experienced.”
“….”
Macbeth continued.
“The contaminated, in the hands of the contaminated. That was a thought you also held, Lee Ha-ram. You, who swallowed even the contamination of others yourself.”
“…Shut up.”
“And yet you, who took that duty upon your own back, are now trying to lay down part of that duty you believed in and spread it to others. Through an action that contradicts both your Principle of Action and the thoughts you hold inside.”
“…I told you to shut up, Commander Macbeth.”
I wasn't angry. I was just uneasy about the question that would come at the end of this.
“I agree with the ideology itself. Humanity is in a precarious position. Though we are in a time of peace, the day will come when this tightrope walk fails. For that, improving the average strength of everyone is a necessity from both a strategic and social perspective. Regardless of what individuals like us think, this is a rational proposal that was bound to emerge as those with less resistance to the Otherworld became the majority of the collective.”
Stop.
“However, these words came from the mouth of an individual. You, Lee Ha-ram. A proposal from the mouth of someone who, if it were the you I know, would never have uttered it. That is why I am curious.”
Grin.
Macbeth smiled. It was a smile like an ice pick wrapped in kindness.
“Just what did you see in the Otherworld? After speaking with you, I can tell. Your way of acting hasn't changed. It’s just that you saw something, Lee Ha-ram. Something at the end of your own way of acting—something powerful enough to erase even the subconscious repulsion you held.”
“….”
Macbeth. The Commander of the Awakened. He was looking straight at what I was hiding.
“Now then. It is time for a question again. Lee Ha-ram. What did you see?”
And he asked. This time, he didn't force it. He simply asked.
To that, I—
“Fine….”
Opened my mouth.