Chapter 78

“I see you’ve been watching.”

The notion that objects or places can retain memories, I’ve experienced this before.

This memory is clearly from the sword’s perspective of what it has seen and heard.

-You alone do not have the right to wield me.

A voice echoed.

-Even if you were prepared to sacrifice something precious. Even if you could stake your very life as collateral. I will not permit you.

“…….”

By the time the sound faded, only the wind continued its raucous howling.

Whether the voice came from the sword or was a mere hallucination, it’s hard to tell, but the voice abruptly cut off.

When I stepped back from where the sword lay, the next elder who arrived grabbed the sword and, like offering a prayer, bowed his head for a while, muttering something unintelligible.

“Qualification.”

What basis do you have to make such a definitive judgment?

I wonder.

And yet, you said even you are unacceptable.

As if singling me out specifically.

Refusing even my willingness to offer sacrifices or put my life on the line.

If it wasn’t an auditory hallucination or delusion, this was a clear expression of refusal.

“…….”

Stepping aside to a cliff overlooking the village, where no ears would hear—perhaps a desolate place akin to a precipice—I asked.

“What do you think?”

-I don’t know either.

Still as callous and irresponsible as ever.

“But rejecting someone outright implies knowing something, doesn’t it? And… why is the sword talking in the first place?”

-Maybe it’s possessed by something. Or maybe it became imbued with something. Haven’t you ever heard of such things?

Not the answer I wanted.

It didn’t resolve my curiosity either.

“…Am I supposed to find the answers myself? Or was asking just a waste of breath?”

-If you figure it out, use your brain. Maybe you lack the stakes necessary. Or maybe you haven’t met the qualifications. There are many reasons. Always are.

Who exactly urged me to obtain this thing anyway?

Breathing out in frustration, I stayed there for a while.

‘Qualifications.’

What does it mean?

More importantly, what grievance does this sword have against me that it rejects me?

Let me rethink this.

Reasons for rejection.

Or purpose.

It accompanied Grandeous until the end, and with his death, it was freed from its duty.

Freed?

Or severed ties? Bereaved?

Does it belong solely to him?

However, if that were true, the premise seems off.

‘You alone do not have the right to wield me.’ That’s what it said, right?

That means…

Someone else could possibly wield it.

Is it rejecting me personally, Carriel?

Or is it waiting for its true master or companion?

Could this sword, stuck here for nearly twenty years, still be waiting for the right person?

Possibly someone who’ll come decades—or even a century—from now?

So is now simply not the right time?

“…….”

Then…

Would it be appropriate to accept this story at face value and leave this place quietly?

And then? What next?

What do I have left?

‘Nothing.’

Well, there is one thing to do.

Find somewhere to train, solidify what I’ve gained so far.

But will that enable me to rival Father?

Will that allow me to repel those who oppose and hate me?

Will it lead me to carve out a life free of humiliation and submission, without regrets?

The answer is no.

Especially given the current mess involving Demon Kings and all that nonsense.

I don’t blame Alesia for divulging information about herself and putting me in a tight spot.

Hell, even if she did, I wouldn’t hold it against her.

Because ultimately, it was my choice to reveal everything.

And I must bear the consequences fully.

Even if she turned against me because of the Demon King rumors…

That’s something I can’t control.

Which is why, when I learned through Fielbar’s letter that the news had spread everywhere…

I didn’t suspect her.

There was no reason to.

Then let’s change the premise.

If not her, then who?

Did someone overhear something I said?

Possible.

But if we rule that out too?

“…….”

If someone knows my circumstances without me realizing… or if a certain individual knows?

At this point, the damn prophecy guy comes to mind.

But it’s not him.

Venus.

He’s more like a sharp blade or sword.

Thus, he isn’t cunning enough, nor discerning or flexible enough, to concoct such schemes.

“The answer…”

When the need for resolution is most desperate, the truth hides well and rarely surfaces.

And if you don’t think, don’t agonize, and don’t prepare…

You’ll just drift along according to someone else’s fate or purpose.

Such a state…

A marionette, a slave, a prisoner stripped of freedom…

Whatever label fits, it makes no difference.

“Ultimately, the answer was obvious.”

-What is it?

“…If a sword like this refuses me, I shouldn’t have bothered struggling. I should’ve just accepted whatever fate or nonsense was thrown my way and lived accordingly.”

Don’t dump your destiny onto others.

Entrusting it is even more absurd.

An undeniable truth.

Venus, whoever the hell he is, still boldly declared the sword wasn’t mine despite being told otherwise.

Didn’t he say killing the one who drew the sword and taking it would suffice?

What a crystal-clear solution.

Simple enough to seem absurd, but perhaps closer to the truth because of it.

“…….”

Of course, I had no intention of trying that.

On the contrary.

Should I really grovel to something that explicitly dislikes me?

No, I chose to fight, resist, and confront instead.

Not for submission or servitude.

Not for clinging to this cursed contract.

“I’ll stay until tomorrow.”

If it doesn’t come into my possession by then…

“…Then I’ll be the one to refuse it.”

-Unexpected. You could’ve chosen to wait until you won her heart or gained the qualification.

“Do I look like I have that much time to spare?”

Time is scarce.

Not metaphorically, but realistically.

Without the awareness that I’m being pursued, I can’t afford to sit idly waiting.

Anyone might jump out today intending to do me harm.

And if word of my situation reaches the upper echelons of the Empire…

“Someone will surely come.”

If Ellheirmina truly intends to capture me this time…

Can I escape her grasp?

Her personal appearance would carry significant risks.

But the Empire has plenty of capable agents to act on her behalf.

Regardless of who comes, can I truly reject their unfair proposals?

In the worst case…

…Father, if you show up…

“…….”

Involuntarily, a laugh escaped me.

If we meet again under such circumstances, I wonder how our conversation would unfold.

It’s intriguing in a way.

But at the same time, cold sweat runs down my spine as if my courage is being squeezed dry.

An oppressive absurdity engulfs me.

Unless he gives up unilaterally upon meeting, escape or departure is impossible.

There’s no other option.

The outcome is painfully obvious, almost amusing.

“Clearly. Looking back, I really am short on time.”

Even if this sword ends up in my hands…

Facing Father, it would be meaningless.

Of course, I won’t die.

But the moment I’m dragged along by his intentions…

I’ll have to confront everything I swore off and abandoned with great reluctance once more.

That’s something I absolutely cannot endure.

Why did I reject Ellheirmina’s relentless demands and pleading back then?

“…….”

I still haven’t let go of anything.

I haven’t overcome it, nor have I mentally prepared to face it.

Therefore, I mustn’t confront it now—not if I want to sustain myself as myself.

They remain…

The deepest, darkest wounds and scars within me.

The most terrifying nightmares.

Even now…

I dream of them grabbing me by the scruff of my neck.

====

The woman rummaged through the corpses scattered across the plain.

Rummaging through bodies is undoubtedly a cursed act in any era, but if no one catches you, it’s fine, right?

Moreover, since she herself was the one who turned these living beings into corpses, her movements were particularly unhindered.

“Is this it?”

Pale platinum hair and strikingly clear emerald eyes.

Her porcelain-white skin evoked the image of a fairy, and her appearance was so exquisite it rivaled theirs.

Her prominent nose bridge.

Thin lips.

Her eyebrows and eyes perfectly proportioned, giving her an expressionless yet impeccably refined look, like a finely carved statue or work of art.

Despite her shoulder-length platinum hair, her bangs were unusually short, carefully trimmed around her eyebrows, adding to her neat and tidy impression.

From the sturdy man wrapped in leather and chainmail, she retrieved a leather scroll.

“Calfskin paper, huh.”

Paper varies greatly in durability and usage depending on region and country.

While paper production areas exist within the empire and it’s widely used there, that’s their situation.

She meticulously inspected the contents, then resealed the calfskin scroll and tucked it inside her purple cloak.

“With reports reaching even lowlifes like these… Is this some kind of bounty hunt?”

Though there’s someone designated to capture them, spreading additional manpower as backup is standard.

Naturally, such operations require astronomical costs, making them inaccessible to just anyone.

“At least there’s no alarming content, fortunately.”

“What’re you muttering about all alone?”

“Huh?”

Though his words implied surprise, his tone remained flat.

The wolf-headed man adjusted his lush brown fur and questioned her.

However, the fur beneath his jaw was white, not brown. Whether stained with dust, ash, or blood, or naturally pristine, it appeared quite messy.

“You’re here? How’d it go over there?”

“As expected. More or less.”

The wolf-man gestured toward the corpses sprawled beneath the woman.

“Not a very impressive mercenary group, are they?”

“This area isn’t a warzone. If you’re looking for renowned mercenaries, check conflict zones or battlefields.”

“…What if we arrive after the battles and wars are already over?”

“That’s why updated intel is crucial, isn’t it?”

Her slight smile prompted the wolf-man to burst into an indifferent chuckle.

“So scavenging from these guys is profitable?”

“Absolutely. Properly selling their equipment could fetch several years’ worth of serf income.”

“Why use serfs as a benchmark?”

Should I laugh at that or question it?

“Proper punishment for sinners and extra income from their gear and belongings. It’s claiming full compensation.”

“…Hopefully the corpses won’t rise in protest.”

“Then we’ll kill them again, obviously.”

Her cheerful tone made the statement chilling.

No malice, no enmity.

Yet her ability to commit such brutal acts without batting an eye indicates serious psychological distortion.

And if that twisted entity also possesses exceptional skill?

Pure calamity.

“That Somern Village over there? What’s drawing all these mongrels to swarm it? Isn’t it about time you spilled?”

“Curious, are you?”

Shaking the tied calfskin document while smirking, the wolf-man snatched it mid-air and pretended to read it before questioning.

“…What’s written here?”

“A Great Warrior’s reckless son is supposedly there. Capture him, and you’ll receive a hefty reward. Something like that.”

“Great Warrior. Are you talking about one of the Nine Heroes? Their offspring?”

“Yes.”

The wolf-man whistled.

“Is a princess or prince coming too? Here? Why?”

“How should I know? And… it’s not royal blood but Radiance lineage.”

“Radiance lineage? That… Wait, could it be?!”

“Yes. Exactly.”

She smiled faintly.

“Knights of Glory. The child of that one, right?”

“…The kid who was hailed as a prodigy in his youth but turned into the biggest screw-up as an adult?”

“Don’t know. Rumors tend to exaggerate, after all.”

“Aiseus. Surely you’re not targeting that, are you?”

The wolf-man asked seriously, but Aiseus, with her vivid blue eyes, chuckled mischievously.

“Of course not. Unless it works the opposite way.”

“Huh? Opposite?”

“Exactly. Gamehven, moving against the crowd usually yields the biggest profits.”

Before long, dwarves and Aquarians pulling wagons began sorting through the corpses, picking useful items and loading them onto the carts.

The bodies were quickly stripped bare, returning to their primal forms.

The rest will likely be taken care of by beasts roaming nearby or claiming the area as their territory.

And the woman, who watched this scene with apparent enjoyment, looked young enough to be mistaken for a girl.

“And besides… It’s not entirely unrelated to you.”

Smiling cryptically, she took the reins of a horse led by a gray-furred rabbit Aquarian and said,

“You might make a substantial profit. I guarantee it.”

---