Chapter 158: Gift (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 158: Gift (4)
The visiting room. Enclosed on all sides by gray concrete walls, I stared at the man sitting across from me.
Oliver Muller. Beside him sat Captain Hans of the Imperial Guard, looking utterly wretched, as if he had endured unspeakable torment.
"Oliver Muller."
I muttered his name softly.
"Is that right?"
"Yes, yes. That is correct."
It was Captain Hans who answered. Frowning, I directed my gaze toward him.
"Are you Oliver?"
"...I apologize."
Hans bowed his head. I shifted my gaze back to Oliver and fell into thought. I recalled his mother—the woman who had shed tears of joy at my testimony.
Sarah Muller's son, Oliver Muller.
What reason does a person truly need to raise another?
Perhaps, sometimes, no reason is needed at all.
Just as a child needs a mother, there are surely situations where a mother desperately needs a child.
"...Yes."
A voice, sounding as though his vocal cords had been shredded, choked out through Oliver's teeth.
"I am... Oliver Muller."
Watching him, a smile I hadn't even realized was there bloomed upon my lips.
*
The Sentinel Knights' office. I received the "expected" documents. This time, it was an old medical record belonging to Sarah Muller.
"...Miscarriage."
Izenheim. They preyed upon the most vulnerable parts of the human soul.
They had approached a woman struggling in the wake of losing the life she cherished most—sidling up to someone praying desperately to somehow fill that empty cradle.
Perhaps it was on an autumn day of driving rain, or a winter day during a bone-chilling blizzard.
Beneath a dark bridge, or on the cold, hard ground.
They had waited for the scarred woman, taking the form of a newborn child.
If Sarah Muller had committed any sin, it was only possessing that frail yet resilient heart—a heart that couldn't bear to walk past an abandoned child, taking him in and raising him with all her love.
"I see."
I organized the documents. The family tree was authentic, but there was a far more important truth here. I had uncovered Izenheim's cunning.
Now, Oliver Muller absolutely could not be left alive. At the very least, he could not be allowed to become the focal point of this crisis.
*
Meanwhile, in the ancient magic passage.
The analysts and researchers of the Ebenholtz family had broken through the tunnel and arrived at the location where Arcane had reportedly been discovered.
"I can feel the residue of mana. I believe further research is needed."
It was a massive cavern. There were no signs of life or any other traces.
They first set up state-of-the-art mana detection equipment and established a base camp. The Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, Zebestian Ebenholtz, sat in his tent, handling various imperial affairs.
"A letter from His Majesty."
Messengers traveled back and forth through the passage, delivering correspondence to Zebestian. Because the Emperor had noted he was "looking forward to it," Zebestian was quite pleased with his son's gift this time.
"Commander!"
Suddenly, the head researcher shouted.
"We have found a passageway."
Zebestian stepped outside. The researcher's detector flashed blue at a specific spot on the rock wall, indicating irregularly swirling mana. The mages hurriedly reverse-calculated its condensed form and injected magic into the vortex.
Srrrrrk.
The stone wall melted away, revealing a spiral staircase.
"It seems to be here."
Usually, investigating what lay inside would be the priority. However, Zebestian showed no hesitation.
Tap. Tap.
He simply began his descent.
The researchers and adjutants tried to follow, but Zebestian raised his hand to stop them.
"You all guard the entrance."
Since he was more than enough to handle whatever lay below, they were to defend against any intrusions from above.
The adjutants accepted his command with familiarity. After all, there was no man in this empire stronger than Zebestian.
Zebestian descended the stairs alone.
Shhhhh...
He soon reached the bottom, arriving at a flat expanse where dry air circulated. The interior was another empty cavern, but someone had already arrived on the far side. However, they didn't seem to notice Zebestian's arrival.
His mana was as quiet and pure as breathing, constantly active and completely erasing his presence.
Because of this, Zebestian had to reveal himself intentionally. A sneak attack was, after all, rather unaristocratic.
"...Huh? What the—"
The moment Zebestian lifted his veil of mana, they belatedly sensed him.
"Someone else is here?"
It was a blunt voice, sounding annoyed.
Zebestian observed them with his quiet golden eyes.
"......"
There were four men cloaked in gray robes. They glared at Zebestian and let out mocking snickers.
"It seems some gnats arrived first," Zebestian muttered lowly.
Angered by his arrogance, one of the men released his mana first. Red mana formed a wave and rushed forward.
Zebestian didn't dodge. He merely reached out his hand as if swatting a bug and tightly grabbed the incoming flames. Pshhh! He crushed the magic into nothingness in midair.
"...Huh?"
Grabbing and destroying high-density mana with a bare fist—was that even possible?
In the split second the opponent panicked at a phenomenon that transcended the boundaries between physics and mana...
Zebestian extended his other hand, lightly clenching and opening it.
Crack. Whoosh!
A fist-sized chunk of the rock wall, caught in his mana, was violently torn out. Zebestian hurled the jagged lump as casually as tossing a light pebble.
Ruuuumble—!
The sound of tearing air was not that of a mere pebble. The speed far exceeded common sense. There was no time to dodge.
The man who had released the mana moments ago was struck squarely in the face by the flying rock fragment.
Splat!
His skull exploded like a ripe watermelon, splattering blood and brain matter everywhere.
In less than a second, four became three. Zebestian glared at the remaining trio and took a step forward.
"...Major. That guy's face."
One of the remaining three spoke to the man next to him. The opponent's imposing aura was pressing down too heavily for them to remain relaxed.
The Major spoke the name in a low voice.
"Zebestian Ebenholtz."
The deepest shadow of the current empire. The imperial family's monster, praised as one of the absolute strongest even in the empire's thousand-year history.
He had descended upon this place.
"......"
The Zentra's complexion turned ashen. Zebestian's golden eyes sank into a cold silver light.
If they waited idly, they would die.
The Major preemptively unleashed his mana.
Kwagagagagak—!
Tremendous explosive pressure swept the spot where Zebestian stood. However, when the dust settled, Zebestian had already vanished.
The moment the Major whipped his head around, Zebestian was standing right in front of his nose, at a point-blank range where their breaths could touch.
"Sever."
The Major exploded his mana, forcibly tearing apart the very "space" between the two of them. Zebestian's figure was instantly repelled dozens of meters away.
"Is it the talent of Spirit Speech, wielding mana through words?"
Zebestian muttered as he drew the longsword from his waist. This was an opponent worthy enough to meet his blade.
Tap.
Zebestian stepped forward again. His body quietly floated upward. He drifted like a feather, and at some point, simply evaporated from sight. It was a movement that made it seem as though gravity itself had disappeared.
"Deploy."
The Major hurled clusters of mana at him and aggressively backed away. Some of the mana clusters were cleanly sliced by the sword, but the remaining mana clung to Zebestian's clothing.
"Detonate."
Boom—! Boom—! Kaa-boom—!
The mana clinging to Zebestian exploded in rapid succession. Blue smoke and violent shockwaves engulfed the entire cavern.
The Major crossed his arms and constructed his mana, raising a grid-patterned barrier.
"Form Defense."
An intent infused through language. The signal of manifestation.
Swoosh—!
Instantly, the opponent's longsword flew out from the acrid smoke. The mana barrier shifted like a living creature, attempting to defend against it, but...
—Clang!
The moment the longsword touched the defensive shield, it fractured in a flash of silver. Its form disintegrated, surging sharply outward. The single blade shattered into hundreds of fragments, scattering erratically.
Ting— ting— ting— Claaang—!
The barrier he had so carefully constructed was obliterated in a split second—a breathtaking sight that resembled the shattering of moonlight.
And from the other side, Zebestian charged forth, his grip tight on his sword.
"......"
The Major gazed at that dazzlingly beautiful scene and smiled.
It was a laugh of pure admiration, or perhaps something closer to utter despondency.
—!
Zebestian swung his sword.
Ebenholtz's final chapter: Full Moon.
The family's secret technique, forged in moonlight, cleanly sliced through the space between them.
*
The visiting room of the Imperial Guard Special Headquarters.
Oswin Mason sat on a steel chair alongside Sarah Muller. This time, Sonette Kandel, who had arranged the visitation, was also present.
"...Why did you pack so much food?" Oswin asked, looking at the array of lunchboxes Sarah had laid out on the table.
"Because Oliver probably hasn't been able to eat properly while suffering in prison. I brought some for you, too, Mr. Attorney. And for Ms. Sonette..."
Sarah patted the cloth bundle where she had unpacked the food. She cast a glance at Sonette with eyes full of deep gratitude.
"Ahem. Well. Then. Let's eat when he arrives," Oswin cleared his throat. Sonette nodded silently.
They maintained an awkward silence, waiting anxiously for the door to open.
—Creeeak.
Just then, the sound of the heavy iron door echoed.
Was Oliver finally coming out? Oswin and Sarah stood up reflexively, while Sonette remained seated, her eyes fixed on the entrance.
Thud. Thud.
The sound of military boots echoed down the hallway. Oswin looked in that direction. Sarah Muller also turned her gaze with an expectant, hopeful face.
Thud. Thud.
However, the man walking toward them from the shadows was not Oliver Muller.
Far colder, sharper, and dressed in an immaculate Knight's uniform...
Maximilian Ebenholtz.
Thud. Thud.
Approaching with a leisurely stride, he naturally took a seat in the empty chair across from them.
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
Smiling faintly, he drew something from his coat and set it down with a heavy thump.
They were thick stacks of documents.
"...Sir Maximilian. What brings you here?" Oswin asked in a wary tone, unable to mask his sense of foreboding.
The Knight's uniform. He was here on "official business."
"Ah, there is no need to be so tense. It is nothing major," Maximilian replied in a low voice while neatly organizing the documents. "Before we begin the actual visitation and meeting, I merely intend to clear up a few very minor factual matters."
Oswin looked at Sonette. Sonette met Oswin's eyes with a rigid expression before turning her gaze back to Maximilian.
Oswin answered, "What factual matters are you referring to?"
Maximilian leisurely interlaced his fingers and stared directly at Sarah Muller.
"...Sir Knight. I am Ms. Sarah Muller's attorney."
He nodded at Oswin's words, but his gaze remained unyieldingly fixed on Sarah.
Maximilian opened his mouth. "First, to assure you in advance. As I testified in court a few days ago, the Muller family tree is indeed an unmanipulated original. You may rest easy."
The family tree was authentic. But it was far too early to relax. To Oswin, the subtle phrasing of those words felt unsettlingly disjointed.
"However, a point has come up that I must personally ask and confirm with Ms. Sarah Muller..."
Suddenly, Maximilian stared down at the lunchboxes—which still radiated warmth—carefully laid out on the table, and asked, "By any chance, may I have a bite?"
Sarah Muller nodded in bewilderment.
"Thank you."
Maximilian picked up a piece of meat with precise, elegant movements and tasted it.
"Mmm. Excellent. It is very delicious."
At the soft praise, Sarah offered a small, relieved smile, but as he wiped his mouth with a napkin, he abruptly dropped a question.
"According to the records I investigated, you lost your husband twenty-seven years ago. Is that true?"
It was a sudden delve into the past. Sarah flinched in surprise and answered, "Yes... There was a terrible accident at the factory where he worked..."
"Moritz Muller. You lost your husband in such a tragic, unexpected accident."
Maximilian continued the conversation as smoothly as if discussing the weather, but...
Splash— splash—
An encroaching anxiety—like cold water steadily rising around their ankles—began to well up.
"At the time, you must have been pregnant with Oliver Muller."
Sarah Muller's shoulders jolted. Oswin reached his arm out to Sarah, stopping her. It was a signal not to answer.
"Sir Knight. Why are you suddenly bringing up such an old story..."
"I am merely asking."
Maximilian smiled once again. A bright, unbothered smile spread across his face. Sonette quietly brushed her hair back, and Oswin lowered his arm.
Sarah Muller swallowed hard and answered. "...Yes. That is correct. I was with child then."
It was in that exact moment.
Every trace of warmth vanished from Maximilian's face as if wiped clean.
The cold water that had been lapping at their ankles in the visiting room had already risen past their knees.
"Ms. Sarah Muller."
His golden eyes sank, becoming as cold as stone. He tapped one of the documents on the table, sliding it forward with a finger.
"In a small hospital in your hometown village, a very interesting medical record was left behind."
It was a copy of a worn-out patient medical record. Reading down the page, Sarah Muller's complexion turned as white as a blank sheet of paper. Oswin's eyes widened.
Maximilian parted his lips and spat out a cruel word.
"Miscarriage."
A sudden, crashing wave slammed into Sarah's chest. Her eyes trembled wildly.
"U-um, Sir Maximilian—"
Oswin hurriedly tried to intervene, but Maximilian raised a hand to silence him. He only pierced through Sarah Muller's violently shaking pupils.
"According to the hospital records from decades ago, a child who clearly miscarried and never saw the light of the world suddenly appeared perfectly alive and grew up under the name Oliver Muller."
Maximilian tapped the document, driving the final wedge.
"From now on, I intend to visit everyone in that village from that time and conduct a full, exhaustive investigation."
They would surely know. They would remember the newborn baby that a grieving wife—who had lost her husband and even the child in her womb—suddenly brought home one day.
"If they knew yet overlooked or condoned this fact, it would become a matter for the entire village to face punishment."
Taking an entire village hostage, he pointed his blade at a single person once again.
"So I will ask you now, Ms. Sarah Muller."
His chilling voice dyed the visiting room in a suffocating dread.
Sarah Muller's breath grew ragged. Her limbs shook from a splitting headache. For a moment, her vision blurred, and the world felt distant, as if she had gone deaf.
"Is the Oliver Muller imprisoned here right now..."
Maximilian leaned his upper body forward.
"...the child you gave birth to?"
Sarah's throat constricted. A suffocating tightness and sheer agony surged through her entire body.
Thick tears dropped from her wide-open eyes, but she could not bring herself to part her lips, releasing only broken sobs.
To her, Maximilian delivered his ultimatum.
"Keep this in mind. There are no second chances."
For a long while, a dead silence flowed.
A heavy stillness continued, where neither Oswin nor Sonette could utter a single word to save her, until...
Finally, Sarah Muller's hoarse, tearing voice spilled out.
"...No."
Sonette dropped her gaze. Oswin bit his lip shut and closed his eyes. Maximilian leaned back smoothly into his chair.
"Thank you for your honesty."
His words ended just like that.