Chapter 468

Perhaps it was because of the shortened limbs and the fur leather cloak, but Fritz, sprawled on the snowy ground, looked as adorable as a Welsh Corgi out for a winter walk.

Though not exactly cute.

“What are you? A brat who’s not even a master charging head-on? Are you suicidal or something?”

As I pressed down on his back, blood gushed out like toothpaste from a tube, staining the surroundings. Fritz’s body convulsed and went limp.

Though the knights of this world are much tougher than Earthlings, with this much blood loss, it wouldn’t take long for him to die. If he had any hidden secret weapon, he’d better use it now.

Magic, miracles, or divine power—whatever it is, if he doesn’t use it now, he’ll just die like a bug.

“Kuhuhu…!”

But instead of reciting some forgotten ancient spell of destruction, Fritz just laughed with a dumb voice. I was on guard, thinking he might finally do something, but… he just kept bleeding and laughing. Continuously.

What the hell is this guy doing?

“You mercilessly cut down a subordinate who gave his life in loyalty to you. Truly, you have the hands of a savage. As expected of a barbarian without blood or tears.”

“Oh, really?”

Since he still had the energy to spout nonsense, I shortened his limbs a bit more. After Durandal flashed a couple of times, Fritz, who had been close to a crustacean, suddenly devolved into something resembling a larva.

Seeing him laugh with a lowered voice, it seemed like he was trying to play the part of some evil mastermind, but with his limbs cut off and turned into a meat puppet, he just looked like an idiot to me.

“Kuhuh… It seems our conversation time has gotten shorter. I won’t last long like this. What a pity.”

Even as he turned into a larva, Fritz continued to laugh calmly.

…His attitude felt familiar.

Unlike fanatics who throw their lives away for their cause, they usually shout about heaven or give a grand speech about their beliefs when they’re about to die.

But this guy, Fritz, was different. Even in the face of death, he calmly joked and laughed. It was just like…

Isabella.

It wasn’t indifference to life, but a confidence that he wouldn’t die. That’s what it felt like.

Resurrection… probably not. Someone like Isabella might pull it off, but with his level of skill, even if he resurrected, he’d just get slaughtered again in the blink of an eye.

Then what? I pressed the blade against Fritz’s neck, replaying the nonsense he had spouted. Maybe there was a clue in there somewhere.

So… he said his name was Fritz, right? No, more precisely, he said, “This body’s name.” He kept mentioning that he was Lacey’s subordinate, even after his identity was revealed.

……I think I’m getting a sense of it.

Maybe it’s because his struggling, shortened limbs reminded me of a mini Isabella, but I think I understand the source of his calmness.

This isn’t his body. This brat.

He’s either temporarily possessing someone else’s body or remotely controlling it. That would explain all his behavior.

The name Fritz probably belongs to the Sacred Order member whose body he stole.

…So, I ended up chopping up Lacey’s subordinate. Even if he was going to die anyway after having his body stolen.

Still, it felt a bit wrong to keep stepping on him, so I sighed and moved my foot off Fritz’s back.

You came to track down the instigator of the citizen riots, and now you’ve ended up like this. What a pity.

Lacey will be sad. Or maybe angry?

Well… mourning can wait. Right now, I need to figure out this brat’s true identity.

“You said our conversation time got shorter? That’s funny. You have no intention of answering anything I ask, do you? Like your purpose or your real name.”

“Ha, how many times do I have to say it? This body’s name is Frit—”

“Not the body’s name. The real name of the one controlling this head.”

“…Hmm.”

Fritz—no, the one controlling Fritz’s body—let out a low sigh. Even though he’s been spouting clues, he didn’t expect me to catch on? How much does he look down on people?

I tapped the tattoo on his forehead with Durandal, pondering this bastard’s true identity.

A strange red pattern emitting an eerie mana. This is the only clue… where have I seen something like this before?

Taking a deep drag of my last cigarette, I cleared my mind and pieced together the clues.

A magician with possession or control abilities. A strange forehead tattoo. The instigator of the Arad citizen uprising, and from his tone, someone hostile to Lacey.

Who fits that description?

…Ah, right. There was exactly one guy.

I remembered. The tattoo’s shape was slightly different, but there was definitely a character in the game who fit all these conditions.

He wasn’t supposed to appear at this point, but the original timeline has long since become meaningless, so that doesn’t matter.

“Belcus, right?”

With half certainty and half doubt, I voiced my guess about his identity.

Belcus, the Discord.

He wasn’t a boss or anything, just a named character, so I didn’t remember him immediately, but if it’s Belcus, this kind of thing would be possible.

It’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do.

“……”

He said nothing. But sometimes silence speaks volumes. I was certain his identity was Belcus.

Well, his eyes were practically popping out of his head in shock.

“You bug bastard. Hiding in the Holy Kingdom, huh? I wondered how this mess started, but it was all your doing. Of course, with Belcus the Discord here, inciting the citizens would’ve been a piece of cake.”

“…How did you…?!”

Belcus, controlling Fritz’s body, let out a shocked cry. Though it was a small voice from a nearly dead body, the astonishment in it was palpable.

He never expected to be found out, huh?

“Curious?”

I smirked, meeting his eyes, and raised my middle finger toward him.

“Too bad. I’m not telling.”

– Slice!

With a twist of my right wrist, a blue arc of light swept across Fritz’s neck. His head slid off smoothly, and his body, now with five exits, went limp.

I looked down at what was once Fritz and shook the blood off Durandal. In the end, I ended up killing Lacey’s subordinate with my own hands, but knowing it was Belcus made it unavoidable.

Those whose souls are subdued by Belcus’s authority, 『Alpha Mail』, can never return to their original state. It was better for him to die cleanly than to be used as a puppet until the end. Probably.

Anyway, Belcus… I didn’t expect him to show up here.

Given his personality, he’s probably already left Arad, but I’ll have to be more careful from now on.

He’s not particularly strong, but his authority alone is threatening. Especially to me right now.

—

Belcus, the Discord.

A demon serving the evil god Invidius, and as his nickname suggests, a notorious sorcerer who committed all sorts of atrocities even before becoming a demon… that was his backstory.

He wasn’t a major character, just a mid-game named enemy, but thanks to the endings triggered by losing to him, he was quite popular among players with certain… unique tastes.

I didn’t have those tastes, so I usually killed him on sight.

As you might guess from his bizarrely named authority, 『Alpha Mail』, Belcus felt more like a character drenched in the developers’ malicious jokes than a seriously designed foe.

His backstory alone tells you that.

The reason he was called “the Discord” was because of a unique curse he developed during his time as a regular sorcerer.

A curse with the grandiose name “Seed of Discord.”

It wasn’t a curse that took lives… but in a way, it was even more serious than that.

The Seed of Discord was a curse that only affected women in a “specific condition.”

Those affected by this curse would…

**Give birth to a child with black skin.**

…Yeah. When I first read that setting, I thought it was some outdated April Fool’s joke. Literally black humor.

The Seed of Discord was a curse specifically targeting pregnant women, and since it showed no outward signs, it was nearly impossible to detect.

Once cursed, the child’s skin color would be fixed to black, regardless of the parents’ race.

Not ink-black, but a natural dark skin tone.

It might sound like a ridiculous curse, but… it was surprisingly capable of causing serious discord.

If a child is born with black skin, what would people think?

That someone must have cursed them? Would they really take it that way?

Even though most of them were slaves, in a world where black people openly existed.

What should have been a blessed moment of childbirth instantly turned into a hellish family breakdown.

Even in modern society, it would shatter a family, but this was a class-based society.

It wouldn’t just end with the family falling apart.

Belcus’s targets were usually noblewomen from families where inheritance was crucial.

The moment a noblewoman gave birth to a child with black skin, what would have been a simple divorce or crime of passion among commoners would escalate into a full-blown conflict between families.

There were more than a few noble houses that fell to ruin because of his curse.

Belcus, who endlessly sowed discord, eventually tried to target the royal family, but was finally discovered and forced to flee.

After that, when his life was in danger from pursuers, he offered himself to the evil god and became a demon…

Really, it was an utterly ridiculous backstory.

Even the authorities he received after becoming a demon were equally absurd.