Ch.252252. Confinement

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The day after meeting the Demonic Spire’s executor.

Looking at the calendar gives me an instant headache.

[Three days left?]

“That’s right.”

Indeed, there are barely three days left until the day circled in red on the calendar—the day of the school festival.

‘…Actually, there’s not much left to do.’

Riru’s issues are likely resolved, and I handled Yuria’s situation yesterday. Both Serath and Victoria have been quiet too. They probably won’t do anything disruptive until the festival day.

‘…Three should be enough.’

I recall what the Demonic Spire’s executor—the person claiming to be my mother—said.

It was a confusingly bizarre conversation, but she did sharply point out the essentials.

[Are you going to believe that?]

“…I’m not sure. But I do need to gather magical energy either way.”

The magical energy accumulates sequentially anyway, so whether three is enough or not is something I can verify after collecting them.

Though I’m a bit concerned that she specifically mentioned “red” and “brown.”

< System Log >

[ Target ‘Red Demon’s mood rapidly deteriorates. ]

[ Target ‘Faynol Leiphec’s mood rapidly deteriorates. ]

[ The targets are also affected by your ‘Wave of Desire’! ]

[ They begin efforts to implement their plans more concretely! ]

“…”

This notification feels connected to similar ones I’ve seen before.

Even when everyone else is behaving, these two are clearly plotting something.

[…But it seems like you’re more worried about something else?]

“Huh?”

[As you said, that red one is obviously planning to devour you right now, but somehow that doesn’t seem to be your biggest concern.]

“…”

That’s true.

My biggest worry lies elsewhere.

“…Calivan.”

I begin with a slightly trembling voice.

“Where is Elnore, and what is she doing?”

[…Good question?]

Calivan agrees, seeming to realize the same thing.

The person who should be causing me the most trouble is currently the quietest.

It’s not a good feeling, though. It feels like the calm before a storm.

“…Didn’t she already try to devour me once before and fail?”

[…]

“But now, in this situation, I can’t imagine what she might be preparing…”

As I shiver at the mere thought, Calivan responds with a silence full of agreement.

[…This will be fun.]

“…”

[I’m already excited to see what terrible fate awaits you—]

I guess not.

What an absolute sociopath with zero empathy.

“…But why is everything so chaotic around here?”

Indeed, I can hear commotion throughout the entire building.

This isn’t the freshman dormitory, and I’ve moved to a fairly nice room befitting an upperclassman, so it’s unusual to hear such noise.

This is the ‘Imperial’ Elphante Academy. Besides madmen like Count Nicholas, who would dare defy the Emperor’s authority—

—You can’t enter like this! Please follow the school rules, Marquis!

—Hahaha! Don’t worry! Even if His Majesty himself came, he wouldn’t scold me!

—Oh, there is someone.

As I clutch my throbbing head, my door suddenly bursts open.

“Greetings, Darwood Campbell!”

“…”

It’s Marquis Bogart.

The head of the Council of Elders that included Count Nicholas, whom I killed.

As I grimace at the sight of someone I’d rank in my top three people I don’t want to meet right now, Marquis Bogart strides into my room without a care.

“Wow, Elphante hasn’t changed at all since I attended!”

“…Why are you here?”

I ask in an exhausted voice, but Marquis Bogart cheerfully continues, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve come to offer both a warning and an apology!”

“…”

I’ve never had a pleasant interaction with this person, but today feels particularly draining.

Finding it difficult to respond, I barely manage to open my mouth.

“Just state your business and get—”

“Nicholas’s ‘resurrection’ using Demonic Spire technology will happen in less than a week.”

“…”

My expression turns serious at Marquis Bogart’s suddenly humorless words.

“You can consider that the exact starting point of the civil war. Whatever you’re planning, I think you should hurry.”

“…”

“So, that was the ‘warning’.”

Marquis Bogart continued, his smile returning.

“I sincerely apologize for that idiot causing you trouble!”

“…”

“I’ve told him several times to recognize how disgusting he is, but he’s so thick-headed that he doesn’t seem to understand!”

I never expected someone of marquis rank to use such direct language.

Especially to someone who’s essentially a clown.

“So I’ll grant you one request, anything you ask!”

This guy.

Does he even realize we’re enemies?

Clutching my aching head, I struggle to respond.

“…I don’t need any favors, but I do have one question.”

Setting aside whether I can trust him in the first place, receiving anything from him seems fundamentally wrong.

My position is one of opposition to the Council of Elders while maintaining a strange cooperative relationship with the Emperor and Prime Minister. If I were to form a close relationship with his side too, the whole situation would become a mess.

But still.

There is one thing I want to ask.

“I heard you’re in a cooperative relationship with Victoria Evatrice.”

I say in a slightly lowered voice.

“…What do you want from her? Why are you working together?”

Just recently, when I blew off Nicholas’s head, I reflected on one clear fact:

Within the Empire, those who “cleanse” the Ain race are truly despicable scum.

I couldn’t help but wonder why Victoria would join hands with the leader of such people.

“Oh, that? It’s nothing special.”

Marquis Bogart continued with his ever-present smile.

His expression contrasted sharply with his next words.

“I needed a skilled assassin, and she agreed to receive what she wanted most.”

“What could Victoria possibly want that would make her cooperate with someone like—”

“I agreed to die.”

“…What?”

“I promised her my head.”

I stare blankly at him after this unexpected statement.

[…What?]

Even Calivan in the Soul Linker speaks in a dazed voice, so surprising was the declaration.

“I also promised Nicholas’s head as a bonus, but you took care of that first, so that part’s a bit moot.”

“…”

“Well, there are many stubborn ones under me. If they set their minds to it, they might try to truly resurrect him.”

“What do you mean by giving your head? You expect me to believe—”

Before I could finish, Marquis Bogart pulled back his collar.

My words caught in my throat as I saw the ‘seal’ engraved on his arm.

“Ah, you recognize it? Then I don’t need to explain.”

“…”

The Crimson Pact. One of the most vicious black magic skills in Sera.

After all, the ‘contract’ made with this seal stakes one’s soul as collateral.

“In exchange for fulfilling her contract with me, I wagered my head. Is this enough to convince you I’m not lying?”

“…”

I stare at Marquis Bogart, speechless.

“…But.”

Why?

From the moment this was engraved, his life became essentially terminal. His death is already certain.

“Well, if I’m going to go anyway, I want to go out with a bang. It was also important to recruit another Grand Assassin to create a ‘counterbalance.'”

“…Counterbalance?”

“Victoria Evatrice will be delivered to you soon. Please make good use of her.”

Once again, I’m left speechless.

What on earth is this man talking about?

“If you have the continent’s two greatest assassins at your disposal… and you’re the one controlling them. I believe you’ll use them efficiently. That’s what it will take for things to be somewhat balanced.”

“…Marquis Bogart.”

“The Council of Elders has the strongest support from the Empire’s military groups.”

His words cut off my sentence.

“We control the majority of the continent’s strongest military power. We’re more formidable than you think.”

“…”

“Good luck, Darwood Campbell.”

Still with a smiling face.

Marquis Bogart delivered what amounted to a declaration of war.

“You need to hold out for a few days so I can do what I need to do.”

“…”

Looking at me standing there with a hardened expression, Marquis Bogart smiled and bowed his head.

It was an exceptionally respectful gesture. As if genuinely showing respect to an ‘opponent.’

“Ah, and one last thing.”

Before stepping out of the room, Marquis Bogart suddenly stopped and spoke.

“I heard you made contact with the Demonic Spire.”

“…”

“Treasure every moment related to your mother as precious memories, Darwood Campbell.”

“…What?”

“That’s the most valuable advice I can give you.”

I meet Marquis Bogart’s gaze.

His eyes are still curved like crescent moons.

But.

Those pupils.

“There’s nothing more painful than regret afterward. Speaking from experience.”

Somehow, they seemed to contain a hint of sorrow.

I silently watch as Marquis Bogart leaves my room with those final words.

[…He’s truly an unpredictable man.]

“…I agree.”

If nothing else, one thing is certain.

Whatever I plan to do at the school festival, I need to finish it more thoroughly and cleanly.

“Alright.”

I sigh and get up.

“…Let’s refine the plan a bit, to ensure perfection.”

I should avoid meeting anyone today if possible.

I need to spend a long time thinking alone.

●

That was my resolution just a few hours ago.

According to my plan, I should have spent today in a somber mood, racking my brains over the grave matters I just encountered.

What am I doing here right now?

“…Explain.”

My voice is so chillingly cold that it surprises even me, causing the two people in front of me to avert their eyes simultaneously.

Looking around, I see:

A soft bed, pink objects everywhere.

Curtains, and all sorts of feminine items decorated with abundant frills.

And in front of me, two people with flushed faces avoiding my gaze.

The people who “kidnapped” me and brought me here.

“…W-well…”

“…U-um…”

“…”

My blood pressure rises involuntarily at their stammering inability to explain.

Come on, just explain.

Nothing could be more desperately needed right now.

Thinking this, I look at the large text written on one wall.

[The Room You Cannot Leave Unless You Do It]

“…”

…Please, I need a specific explanation of what exactly needs to be done to leave.

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