Chapter 7 – The Grim Reality Tightens Its Grip

Having dispatched lunch as a mere formality, I had plenty of time.

–You seem remarkably unconcerned about my… attachment.–

The library demanded quiet, but its vast halls offered a degree of privacy.

“…Would it change anything if I were concerned?”

–Still, such ready acceptance is… suspicious.– Learned helplessness. Shattered self-esteem. There were reasons, of course. He’s not simply passive; he’s given up thinking for himself. Pushed to the very brink. She was the Demon King, a being of immense power, even in her current spectral form. And yet, he treated her presence with an unsettling calm.

–I understand, of course. Causing a scene, attracting unwanted attention… that wouldn’t do, would it?–

“……” My expression must have betrayed my irritation. If you understand, why ask?

She chuckled softly. So, avoiding social awkwardness is a higher priority than the Demon King haunting you? How… quaint.

–Do you think I’m simply tormenting you for my own amusement?–

“……” I considered my words carefully.

“If it were purely malicious… I would have taken measures to… survive.”

–Oh? So you find your current existence… bearable?–

“Tolerable,” I corrected, taking a breath. “And… strangely… logical.”

–Logical?–

“If I endure this… if I overcome it… perhaps my life will… improve. Compared to… now.”

“……” He interprets it that way? What kind of resilience did this boy possess? Even if he understood the potential benefits intellectually, accepting them emotionally was a different matter entirely. Dying repeatedly wasn’t an experience most could handle. Was it simple stubbornness? He wasn’t particularly ambitious or driven. There was a certain… hollowness to him, a yearning for connection perhaps, born from years of neglect and isolation. But this… pragmatic acceptance of suffering… it was unusual. He was like a gold mine, yielding unexpected treasures with every dig.

Or perhaps he understood, on an instinctual level, that she wouldn’t relent until he reached her… unspecified goal.

–Well then. Such a positive outlook is… motivating.–

“Any more motivation from you, and it will be outright torture.”

–Training is torture, little bird. The difference is intent. One breaks you to destroy you. The other breaks you to rebuild you, stronger.–

Her words sounded profound, but the end result was the same: pain.

“What if… I succeed? How far could I go?”

–I told you, I only provide the opportunity. The rest is up to you. But I will give you one… crucial piece of advice.–

“And that is…?”

–Experience is a far better teacher than words, wouldn’t you agree?– She glanced to the side. –You’re not planning to just sit there, are you?–

It wasn’t a request, but a command. I found a secluded corner and sat, the exhaustion of countless sleepless nights finally catching up to me.

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“There are three things you must master.”

“Three things?” But more importantly…

“Why do you look… like that?”

–What’s wrong with this?– Usually, she appeared as a woman. Now, she was… a girl. Still undeniably beautiful, but… younger.

–You’re looking at me rather strangely.–

“Not at all.”

–Of course you are. This form… it’s a reflection of your ideal. Your imagination made manifest.–

“I… don’t understand.”

–I’m not human, little bird.– Despite her youthful appearance, her smile held the same chilling power, the same unsettling amusement. –You perceive me as human because that’s what you expect. It’s all in your head.–

“It doesn’t feel… real.”

–Years of being beaten down by the world have dulled your imagination. You’re too used to… accepting things as they are.– Accepting, submitting… that was what he had been taught.

–Enough with the distractions. This form… it’s your ideal woman, infused with my… essence. Simple, yes? Now, the three things: precision, efficiency, and sincerity.–

“……?”

–What? Too mundane?–

I nodded instinctively.

–You’ve trained with a sword long enough to know this. Poor form leads to inefficiency. Wasted effort. Difficult to correct later. Am I wrong?–

“No. You’re right.”

–Same with magic. Memorizing useless formulas is a waste of time. Method is everything. That’s why families and schools spend generations refining their techniques.– It was all perfectly logical. –Those who don’t understand this… they struggle, they stagnate, they give up. Or they hit a wall they can’t overcome.–

–Sometimes, they break through. But that’s not simply luck; it’s… destiny.–

Self-made success was a myth, unless you were a genius. And even geniuses needed guidance.

–Imagine training for ten years, struggling, bleeding, only to discover you could have achieved the same result in a year… with the right guidance. But your habits are ingrained, your foundation flawed. Now you have to unlearn everything, start over. Can you do that, at your age? With all that wasted time?–

“……” A grim reality, indeed.

–All you have left is experience. Years of wasted effort. But is that enough? No. It’s simply… learned survival. Not true strength.–

“So… build a proper foundation. The right way.”

–Precisely. You learn quickly.– He was passive, his creativity stifled, but… that was for the best. A blank slate was better than one filled with flawed scribbles. But his body… a disaster. Years of misguided effort.

She clicked her tongue. –Your swordsmanship, for example. It’s… a problem.–

“My swordsmanship?”

–The Berke Empire teaches six forms, nine forms, thirteen. A standardized system. Your father learned it. The Emperor, too.–

“That system is over three hundred years old.”

–Ancient history. The first Imperial Knight, Ilande, developed it. A solid foundation. Master it, and you could become a formidable knight. In theory.–

–But not anymore. It’s been… corrupted.–

“Corrupted?”

–Let me show you.– She conjured a sword, demonstrating six precise, economical movements.

–Well?–

“That’s… different from what I learned. Is that the original six forms?”

–No. That’s all there was. Six forms. Simple, efficient, effective. Everything else… is superfluous.–

“But what I learned is…”

–Corrupted. By fools who thought they knew better. They added flourishes, complexities, all designed for those with… specific talents.–

“……”

–It’s not entirely useless. But it’s tailored to those with an innate understanding of mana, exceptional flexibility, and unwavering focus.–

“……”

–Traits you lack. That’s why… you’re still struggling.–

“……”

–’You just need to try harder. You’re not dedicated enough. Give it time. Pour your heart into it.’ Recognize those words?– Her smile turned sharp, almost cruel. –Empty platitudes. And the worst part? Those who offer such advice… they believe it. They don’t even realize they’re lying.–

–’I did it, so why can’t you? You must not be trying hard enough.’– It was like telling a man with no arms to wield a sword.

–How does that feel, Cariel? To be told you simply need to… try harder… when you lack the fundamental tools?–

“……”

–Let me tell you something even more amusing. I know nothing of swordsmanship.–

Her grin widened.

–I don’t use swords. I use claws. Why would I need a sword? My hands aren’t even designed for gripping things. And yet… I understand the flaws in your precious Imperial Swordsmanship better than any of you. Isn’t that… fascinating?–

A chill ran down my spine.

“Wisdom,” I whispered, the word escaping before I could stop it.

–Close. Not quite, but… close. That’s why they called me the Demon King of Wisdom.–

–Knowledge alone isn’t wisdom. It’s the understanding of the underlying principles, the… essence of things. True insight.–

–And beyond wisdom… lies truth. And beyond truth… providence. There’s no end to these realms.–

–So tell me, little bird. Do you think I, defeated by your parents, was truly… a failure? Do you think I didn’t… anticipate… my own demise?–

I realized I had been holding my breath. Cold sweat clung to my skin. My mouth was dry, my throat tight.