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Chapter 66: Investigation (3)
Gilgore's account shattered several things I had taken for granted.
Starting with the matter of the gods.
“In their doctrine, they see fate in a really negative light. There’s barely any mention of hope, and even when there is, it’s treated like a joke. For twin goddesses, the difference in how they’re treated is pretty harsh.”
Fate and Struggle.
If the doctrine pits them against each other, then it makes sense.
What made it shocking was the fact that those bastards were actually hostile to fate.
‘Was it the Outer God that moved them?’
Right now, all clues pointed toward the goddess of fate being behind the enemy’s identity.
Their goal had already been revealed as the fall of the Empire.
Considering that one of the central events in every Empire-collapse scenario I knew involved a war with the barbarians, I’d assumed fate had been manipulating things from that front.
But now, this changed everything.
“…Are they even receiving proper divine messages?”
“The shamans are. It even came up as a topic during their council.”
If they're receiving divine revelations, then a god opposed to fate wouldn't just sit back and let fate have its way.
Which meant their war could be interpreted as purely driven by freedom and struggle.
That complicated things.
‘It’s not enough to just stop the Outer God side. The war is a separate matter entirely.’
If everything had been connected, I could just dismantle it step by step.
But this was a crisis escalating from both sides.
As I mulled over this, another possibility came to mind.
‘…No, what if they are connected?’
Maybe their god pushed Izak forward as an apostle to stop fate’s scheme.
But even that was just speculation.
“Do the barbarians have any particular thoughts about the Empire?”
“There’s not really any to speak of. They just don’t care.”
“Hmmm…”
“Even if their god hates fate, that’s usually where it ends. You don’t go around killing everyone you dislike, right?”
“……”
Well, I had beaten plenty of people I hated half to death.
During my delinquent days and during the war—those environments made it permissible, so I couldn’t exactly relate to that sentiment.
In any case, a lot of thoughts passed through my mind.
I took a breath and cautiously spoke a name.
“Izak la Bodeta. Do you know that name?”
He was the barbarian High War Chief before the regression.
A Grandmaster.
The Empire’s nightmare who clashed endlessly with the Crown Prince.
I asked the question, wondering if his whereabouts might be the key to all this discord.
Gilgore’s eyes widened.
“Huh? How do you know the High War Chief’s son?”
“…Son of the High War Chief?”
“Yeah, how do you know him?”
“My question first. What kind of person is he?”
That was unexpected.
I had assumed someone like him would already be making waves, even at this time.
But he was merely referred to as the son of the High War Chief?
Sure, in barbarian terms, that would be like calling someone the Crown Prince.
Still, it was strange.
He was supposed to rise to the top and start a war within five years.
Yet he wasn’t even the High War Chief—just his son?
Confused, I listened as Gilgore continued.
“…Just, a very unusual barbarian?”
“Unusual how?”
“He was smart. Thought deeply, unlike the others. Could see the bigger picture. You ever meet someone and feel like, if the right environment came along, they could change the world? That’s what it felt like. I hadn’t been that impressed by someone’s intellect since I met Ias.”
“Master…!”
“Haha, don’t worry, I still like you better. He had too strong a sense of self. Talented, sure, but hard to work with.”
“…I will devote my soul to you. As I always have, and always will.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
A little comedy played out before me, but I had no time for sentiment.
‘He stood out in other areas, but no mention of martial prowess. Did he hide it? Or did he gain it later?’
The amount of information was far too limited.
Still, there was one thing I was certain of.
In this matter, I needed a clear plan.
After finishing Rebecca’s loose ends, I’d decide on the next steps.
‘First, the succession ceremony. After that, I’ll head for the spirit vein.’
If the barbarians had no current intention toward the Empire, and I already knew they’d eventually start a war,
Then after securing a minimum level of power, it would be best to visit their homeland and investigate firsthand.
I needed to see Izak with my own eyes.
‘If…’
If the simplest scenario played out—
If he was already working to overthrow the current High War Chief and seize power,
If I could confirm that he harbored ambitions to invade the Empire—
Then, even if he was still young, I’d consider killing him on the spot.
This wasn’t a task I could entrust to someone else.
Comparing what has yet to happen with what is currently unfolding, and making flexible decisions based on that—
Only I, who knew the future, could do that.
My strategy was starting to solidify.
Gilgore asked,
“But why the barbarians? Are they causing problems too?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Huh?”
I glanced at Gilgore.
Among the elite recruits I’d tangled with so far, this one was clearly the most capable.
And because of his curse-clearing ability, our relationship was firmly tilted in my favor.
I could afford to drop a few more hints.
“…I’m weighing all possibilities. Ever since I realized there was an external threat, they’ve been on the list.”
“Aha?”
“Even if that weren’t the case—if they oppose fate, they could be useful.”
“Mm. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, huh? Got it.”
It was a possibility I couldn’t ignore.
I didn’t yet know exactly how the barbarians functioned, but if handled correctly, they could become the greatest weapon.
And I knew this well—because I had fought them.
I stood up.
“That’s enough for now. I’ll be going.”
“Ah, thanks. I’ll stop by to say goodbye before you leave.”
“Sure.”
I left the room.
Walking out of the Papal Palace, the outside air cleared my head a little.
‘Still, it’s a lot better than when I knew nothing at all.’
There was a long way to go, but at least I had a direction now.
No need to rush, but no room for complacency either—I’d just move forward steadily.
That wrapped up the big-picture stuff.
Now it was time to deal with the smaller things.
Like—
‘…What the hell am I supposed to do about that damn Crown Prince?’
As always, the biggest pain in the ass was the main job.
* * *
The next morning, I got up early and washed up.
Destination: the imperial palace.
It was a regular class day, so I entered the palace—and punched the Crown Prince first thing.
“Guh…!”
“Get up. Looks like your head’s not clear yet.”
“Wait, hold on… you hit my solar plexus…!”
“Yes. That’s why it hurts.”
Whap, whap.
I tapped his cheeks with the tip of the sacred branch.
Seeing him force a smile made my blood boil.
God, what a piece of work.
“I told you—over and over again, from Igrosia to the capital before we parted ways—not to use your trait. To pretend it doesn’t exist.”
It wasn’t complicated.
The bastard had ignored my warning and secretly continued training his trait within the imperial palace.
“I didn’t use it—”
“Don’t lie. I could feel it even while I was staying at the mansion.”
“…Are you even human?”
No, you’re the freak.
The reason I sensed it was because I knew that power just as well as the Crown Prince did.
I’d been hit by that dominion trait at the soul level for over ten years—how could I not recognize it?
I could sense Dominion just from the vibrations in the air.
You could call it a kind of trauma.
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Anyway, that was that.
“If you leave it alone, it’ll awaken on its own. But if you try to force it now?”
“…What happens then?”
“You delay it. Or worse, you lose it entirely. Your body could rot before it ever manifests. If you force a form out of a still-developing body, it won’t be precise or stable. Even after becoming a Sword Master, that fragile vessel might not be able to handle the trait. You’d just end up with something easily broken.”
“But you’re using it just fine, aren’t you?”
“Does it look fine? I cough up blood for days after every battle.”
I answered seriously.
If not for the necklace’s effects, I’d be much worse off.
Even now, I tried to rely mostly on swordsmanship—not my trait—unless absolutely necessary.
And for the Crown Prince, that was even more true.
“Dominion is different. My Shatter trait, or even Lord Drenor’s… tsk, those don’t test the user as harshly. But Dominion?”
“…Yeah, I used it myself.”
The Crown Prince lowered his head.
Every power has a price.
Dominion, the peak of unmatched traits, had just one condition: the user is the compatibility.
The trait behaves almost like it has its own will—it will destroy any unworthy master.
I’d warned him time and time again.
But here we were.
And that made me really angry.
So I kept pressing him.
“…I’m sorry. I was impatient.”
“That’s your only excuse?”
“The Empire is in crisis, isn’t it? The enemies we face are all formidable. I thought my weapon would be necessary. I figured if I analyzed it, I could reach a higher level faster…”
A shadow had fallen over the Crown Prince’s face at some point.
“…If I grow stronger, I won’t have to rely on you as much.”
“……”
It's an admirable thought.
If only it weren’t for the fact that I didn’t want that.
I sighed.
This damn master-disciple relationship had its downsides.
If it were more like a past-life connection, I could just say, “Shut up and do as you’re told,” but—
‘This guy’s personality isn’t completely rotten yet.’
The Crown Prince still had some human decency left.
He hadn’t had a breakdown while locked up in a cell, so he still acted like a human being.
I had to preserve that to some extent.
After all, I wasn’t trying to create the strongest general—I was trying to raise a wise and virtuous ruler.
I chose my words carefully.
Softening my expression, I faced the Crown Prince directly.
Only then could I answer him.
“…That’s why I’m here.”
“What a ridiculous thing to say.”
“No, it’s not.”
The Crown Prince furrowed his brow.
And I replied, borrowing a bit from my sister’s mannerisms.
“A teacher exists for the growth of their student. Pharos exists for the completion of Ortaire. Therefore, I…”
I knelt to meet the Crown Prince at eye level.
“…am simply fulfilling my role. As your teacher, and as your Pharos. So that a tree not yet grown won’t be blown over by the storm.”
“…!”
Why does he look so moved?
Suppressing the urge to smack him across the philtrum, I continued.
“So if you care for me, please take things step by step. What I’ve sacrificed will only shine when Your Highness fully blossoms.”
“You…”
The Crown Prince clamped his lips shut.
Tears welled in his eyes for some reason, and he made a strangely disgusting expression.
“To have gained someone like you… I’m truly fortunate. Yuren, you are my proud—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Smack!
“Ugh!”
He tried to hug me, so I reflexively slapped him across the philtrum.
Goosebumps spread across my skin.
If I hadn’t stopped him… the mere thought made me nauseous.
I got up, backing away as I spoke.
“This is a warning—don’t ever try that again. I’ll seriously kill you next time.”
I barely managed to suppress my murderous intent, enough to leave without killing him.
Teaching is so damn hard…!
* * *
After that, I no longer woke up drenched in cold sweat, feeling the oppressive aura of domination.
With more peaceful dreams, I was finally living somewhat like a human for the past few days.
My body had recovered, work was progressing smoothly—nothing urgent remained.
It had been well over two months since the Papacy incident.
This was the first real break I’d had in ages.
Holed up at home, I ate, slept, and ate again.
When Aria came to visit, I played with her a bit.
Of course, it wasn’t all leisure.
“Ah! Maximus! You’re not supposed to chew on that!”
[Yip?]
In the mansion’s garden.
Aria was playing with a puppy.
And the reason for the sudden dog…?
‘…It’s a spirit.’
That was a spirit wolf.
I was training it to adapt to the Wind Wolf Cloak I got from Gilgore.
What I’d figured out so far:
Depending on how much mana I infused it with, the wolf could change size.
With proper control, it could stay out all day without issue.
So I kept it out to build affinity.
Spirits, by nature, grow stronger the more time they spend with their contractor.
In fact, in the last battle alone, that wolf’s flanking attacks played a pretty significant role.
Strengthening it would greatly enhance my combat ability.
That was the idea—and so I left it alone, resulting in this.
“Maximus! Let’s go that way this time!”
[Yip!]
I’d turned it into a puppy, and Aria loved it, chasing after it gleefully.
She even named it “Maximus,” and the wolf seemed to like her, wagging its tail vigorously and sticking close to her.
‘Wait, am I the one bonding with it?’
I briefly wondered.
But then again, I’d basically acquired an automatic Aria-sitter.
Lying there in peace, I couldn’t deny the convenience—so I left it alone.
Then, at one point, Aria came over, panting and out of breath after running around.
Her eyes sparkled—she was clearly very satisfied.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yup! Maximus is so smart! I think he could guard the royal treasury!”
“The guards would cry. Please don’t do that.”
“Okay!”
Aria flopped down.
The wolf curled up beside her.
Bathed in the gentle breeze, the two of them began nodding off.
‘…Wait, do spirits even sleep?’
That was the thought crossing my mind when—
Suddenly!
Aria’s eyes flew open.
She sat up with a loud,
“Ah!”
“Aria forgot something!”
“What is it? You already ate… is it dessert?”
“No! A letter!”
“Huh?”
“I need to deliver a letter to Pharos!”
“?”
She pulled out a crumpled envelope from her small handbag and handed it to me.
My eyes narrowed.
“…That’s a royal seal.”
The envelope bore the unmistakable insignia only the royal family could use.
I looked up to see Aria grinning proudly, puffing out her chest.
“Second sister told Aria to give it to you! Aria didn’t forget!”
“The Second Princess?”
“Yup!”
[Yip!]
The Second Princess.
The same woman who taught Aria that “handsome men are bad news,” and who’s infamous for stuffing playboys’ bellies with public funds—had sent me a letter.
I couldn’t help but tilt my head.
‘Why?’
Did I even have any interaction with her?
No matter how I thought about it, I couldn’t remember any.
‘…Guess I’ll take a look.’
Frowning, I opened the letter.
Its contents were brief:
[Great Master, I humbly request your guidance.]
That alone was already baffling.
‘Why the hell am I a great master?’
Now that just rubbed me the wrong way.
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