Chapter 178

When I returned to the accommodation, the commander and everyone there greeted me with immense relief.

“They thought I was dead,” they said.

Given what I heard, it makes sense. The last thing I saw before drifting off was the thornbushes invading the house. After waking up, if even one person was missing, assuming they were dead wouldn’t be unreasonable.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s a relief you’re safe.”

After saying that, the commander hesitated for a moment before carefully asking, “What happened to the witch?”

By asking this, he wasn’t pretending to know something specific. It’s just that I was the only one who disappeared from this place, along with the witch, so naturally he’d ask.

I held up Maleficent.

“It’s this.”

“Huh?”

The royal guards present, including the commander, stared in shock at the black-and-white crown in my hands. Honestly, I didn’t need it, so I handed it over to him.

“Maleficent can use magic, so be careful.”

Meaning, since the object itself can cast spells, handle it with care—but it could also imply that the witch is sealed inside.

In other words, deception.

I placed it in the commander’s hands.

“You should store it safely.”

The commander looked back and forth between the crown resting on his armored glove and me, clearly flustered.

“Uh… Yes. Understood.”

I stretched. Maybe it was because I carried Victoria around for a while earlier, or maybe it was the aftereffect of my neck twisting, but I feel a bit stiff.

Thinking about it now, Maryweather was already gone, and Maleficent had been her all along?

Until now, I thought the royal family sent Maryweather to use me. But apparently, they might have genuinely seen me as someone who helped Aurora. The bodyguard was just that—a bodyguard.

Hmm… Moving forward, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions about others’ intentions. A fatal mistake might’ve already been made.

Lesson learned: I’ll be more cautious going forward.

Anyway, looking around, there were quite a few injured people, but none with wounds serious enough to cause screaming.

Many got scratched by the thornbushes when I collapsed, but those will heal soon.

The harvesters are physically strong, so many were outside working in the afternoon. That’s why so many harvesters died in Brightshin.

We need more harvesters.

I need to find a way to increase their numbers while staying true to my concept.

The royal family likely sees me as someone who helped Aurora.

Pretending to be a kind-hearted individual would be convenient.

Kindness loses its value if given out recklessly.

“If anyone has injuries too severe to recover from, please call me. I’ll always be willing to help.”

Noticing the goodwill in the guards’ eyes, I stayed until they left and then helped clean up the messy accommodations. We gathered scattered debris, dismantled the equipment used to block the thorns, and memorized its structure.

“Did you know how to do this?”

While cleaning up with the caretaker, the butler of this mansion approached and casually asked if we found anything troublesome.

Wiping dust off the window frames, I acted like a meticulous perfectionist who points out improper cleaning but doesn’t actually complain, maintaining an air of kindness.

Of course, pointing things out is possible.

Among the memories I gained when the first world collapsed were many from people working in such places. While some specialized knowledge needs adjustment for this world’s materials, most remain similar.

“If there’s anything inconvenient, please let me know anytime. My children also need opportunities to grow.”

They’re being raised extremely strictly.

But instead of nodding, I kept working. Building up evil is easy, but cultivating goodness is tough.

Since I plan to pretend to be a good person while increasing the number of harvesters, I’ll manage my image carefully. Changing too abruptly might reveal my schemes, so helping people gradually will suffice.

But does the royal family know I’ve been creating harvesters in the slums? This method started after Maryweather became my bodyguard, and she probably didn’t report it to them.

How smoothly I handle this will be key.

For now, I’ll keep living as usual while observing the situation.

***

That’s what I was thinking.

That night.

The royal family invited me—not really an invitation, more like dragging me along as a relevant party—to a formal reception room rather than the study where I met the king last time.

King Highpion sat there, his face beaming with gratitude.

“Thank you for sealing Maleficent.”

Sealing?

Ah, yeah. That makes sense. If the witch turned into a crown capable of using magic, people would assume it’s sealed. They wouldn’t think the witch was entirely transformed into an object.

“Please take care of it.”

While secretly hoping future harvesters use it for mass slaughter, I said that. King Highpion nodded solemnly in response.

“To prevent any dangerous incidents, I’ll ensure it’s stored securely.”

He seems to believe it might unleash the sealed witch, but that won’t happen. All warmth was extracted, and the dark light faded into dust when the object formed.

After discussing Maleficent, King Highpion delivered a long, formal thank-you speech filled with royal jargon.

Then he glanced out the window.

Outside, far away, the royal castle stood without its usual tall spire.

During the thornbush siege, a beam shot from the castle toward the witch, only to rebound and never fire again.

It must’ve been destroyed then.

“If there are people with irreversible injuries, please call me.”

“Your concern is appreciated. We’ll summon you if necessary.”

Suddenly, the king shifted the mood.

The cheerful atmosphere quickly turned serious, signaling the start of important matters.

Adjusting my posture slightly, I encouraged him to speak his mind.

“You freed my daughter Aurora from the witch’s curse and even sealed the witch herself.”

Maleficent.

From the memories and warmth I obtained, she wasn’t human. She didn’t become a witch as a job.

She wasn’t human at all. Titles like Queen of Hell weren’t just empty words—she truly was a being born from the dark corners of this world.

Born at the boundary between the living and the dead.

From birth, she wielded immense power, doing as she pleased and following her desires freely. Even as she aged, she grew cunning.

However, she was too powerful.

What seemed like an easy provocation to others was actually due to her lack of resistance to provocations, having never needed it before.

Simply comparing powers or ranks, Maleficent was overwhelmingly stronger. The difference was like ants versus elephants.

Maleficent rarely lost or fled from anyone. According to her memories, nothing in this world could kill her.

If the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign had been summoned, it would’ve been an epic battle worth watching, showcasing her incredible strength.

The memory of the Original Sovereign flashes brightly, pointing to the part where magic stopped, while Daegon’s memory insists on victory.

She was indeed incredibly strong, yet fell surprisingly easily. But King Highpion doesn’t know that. To him, there’s something mysterious that dealt with the witch.

“So, do you have any requests for this country?”

Right. The person before me is a king—an entity that must constantly suspect those behind them. A profession where forgetting suspicion leads to assassination.

He suspects me.

It’s impressive, except it’s too late.

Here, shaking my head to maintain a benevolent image would only make King Highpion more suspicious.

I need desires understandable to humans.

Warmth?

Too critical a weakness.

So, let’s change direction.

“From here to the south, screams can be heard.”

I pointed to Bern City. It’s already in a state akin to civil war. Corpses and injured people fill the streets, hope erased from people’s faces.

As I almost mentioned the disappearance of those who gave me these abilities, I stopped myself.

No, I shouldn’t say that.

Mentioning it might reveal that I see the world through harvesters. To remain incomprehensible, I can’t be a completely alien entity.

To hide within the shadow of truth, I must appear as something already understood.

“Why are people screaming in the south, Highpion?”

Thus, I press further.

Always wearing the mask of a kind person.

This way, I seize control.

I’m merely saving people without special intentions, implying he might be neglecting his duties.

A question someone genuinely kind should ask.

Whether the royal family is involved or not.

Truthfully, either side is fine with me.

The important thing is escaping King Highpion’s probing questions. He answered me like this:

“You’re truly inscrutable. The south, huh? Alright, I’ll look into it. Hopefully, you aren’t an enemy of this nation.”

I neither confirmed nor denied.

Instead of pressing further, the king moved to the next topic.

There will be a memorial service in the capital starting tomorrow to honor the victims of the recent disaster. Prepare accordingly.

And that was it.

The king informed me of tomorrow’s plans and, instead of sending me back to the accommodations, offered a guest room in the royal palace for rest.

Looks like I’ll miss class tomorrow.

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