Ch.7826. I Dream of a Hand Grasping My Nape.

“You’ve been watching.”

I’ve experienced before how memories can remain in objects or places.

But this memory must surely be what the sword saw and heard.

-You, of all people, have no right to wield me.

A voice echoed.

-Even if you’re prepared to sacrifice something precious. Even if you’re willing to stake your own life. I will not permit you.

“……”

After those words, only the sound of the wind grew louder.

I’m not sure if the voice came from the sword or if it was just an auditory hallucination.

But the voice abruptly stopped.

When I stepped back from where the sword was, the next elder who approached grabbed the sword and, as if offering a prayer, bowed his head for a while, muttering something busily.

“Qualification, huh.”

On what basis does it make such a judgment?

I’m curious.

But it said specifically that I couldn’t have it.

As if singling me out.

And even refusing sacrifices or stakes of life.

If what I heard wasn’t a hallucination or misunderstanding, that was clearly a rejection.

“……”

Standing back at a desolate cliff overlooking the village, a place where no ears should be listening.

Perhaps at this precipice, this empty place I had just reached.

I asked.

“What do you think?”

-I don’t know either.

Still insensitive and irresponsible remarks.

“Rejecting me means it’s expressing refusal based on knowing something, right? And… why is the sword talking?”

-If something dwells within it, that could happen. Or perhaps something came to dwell in it. Haven’t you heard of such things before?

Not the answer I wanted.

Nor one that resolved my curiosity.

“…Do I need to find the answer myself? No. I’m just rambling about something obvious.”

-If you know, then rack your brains hard. Perhaps your stake isn’t enough? Maybe you haven’t acquired the qualifications it wants? The reasons could be various. As always.

Who was it that urged me to obtain that thing again?

Exhaling my rising irritation, I remained in that spot for a while.

‘Qualification.’

What does it mean?

More importantly, what is that sword dissatisfied with that it’s rejecting me?

…Let’s think differently.

The reason for rejection.

Or its purpose.

That sword, wielded by Grandeus until the end, was liberated from its duty with his death.

Liberation?

Or separation, perhaps bereavement?

Is it saying he was its only master?

But if so, the premise is strange.

‘You, of all people, have no right to wield me. That’s what it said, right?’

Doesn’t that mean…

Someone else can wield it?

Is it specifically rejecting Kariel himself? Is that what it means?

Or is it waiting for its true master or companion?

The sword that had been buried for almost 20 years, is it still watching for an opportunity?

For someone with the right qualifications to come?

Perhaps years later.

Or decades. Maybe even after more than a hundred years, the being it wants might visit this place.

Does that mean now is not the time?

“……”

If that’s the case.

Is it appropriate to meekly accept that story and dejectedly leave this place?

And then? What’s next?

What remains for me?

‘Nothing.’

No, there is one thing I need to do.

To find somewhere to build my body and properly acquire what I’ve gained.

But.

Will that alone allow me to contend with my father?

With just that.

Can I defeat those who hate and oppose me?

Can I forge a life without any humiliation or submission, with no regrets?

The answer is no.

Especially in this situation, entangled with all this demon lord nonsense.

I don’t think Alethia would have disclosed this and put herself in a difficult position.

…No, even if she had, I wouldn’t particularly resent her.

The choice to reveal was ultimately mine.

And I must fully bear the consequences of that choice.

Even if her heart changed upon hearing the words “demon lord” and she came to oppose me…

…that would be unavoidable.

That’s why even when I received Filbar’s letter saying this news was spreading everywhere…

…I didn’t particularly suspect her.

There was no need for suspicion.

So let’s change the premise.

If not her, then who?

Someone who overheard what I said?

This is a possibility.

But if we exclude even this?

“……”

If there’s someone who knows my circumstances without my knowledge? Or a specific person?

Here.

That cursed fellow who spoke of prophecies immediately comes to mind.

But it’s not him.

Venus.

He’s a blade, a sword with a sharpened edge.

Therefore, he’s not the type to scheme such conspiracies, being neither cunning, clear-headed, nor flexible enough.

“The answer.”

When the answer is most desperately needed.

That’s when it hides most thoroughly and rarely shows itself.

And without thinking, pondering, or even preparing.

Whether it’s fate, destiny, or someone’s intention, you’ll be manipulated or swept along according to their purpose.

That position.

Whether puppet or slave.

Prisoner who’s lost freedom or whatever.

Whatever it becomes, the position and circumstance one is placed in won’t differ much.

“The answer was obvious all along.”

-What is it?

“…If I were the type to meekly accept rejection from a mere sword, I shouldn’t have struggled in the first place. I should have just quietly accepted fate or whatever and lived moderately until dying moderately.”

Don’t pass your fate to others.

Entrusting it is even more unacceptable.

Such an obvious truth.

Venus, that man, even after being told by some bastard that the sword wasn’t his, what did he proudly declare?

Did he say that he’d just kill the one who drew the sword and take it?

Truly a clear answer.

A notion so simple it’s absurdly preposterous.

But perhaps that’s why it’s closer to the truth.

“……”

Of course.

I had no intention of attempting that.

On the contrary.

If asked whether one should desperately cling to something that rejects them.

…I chose to fight, to resist, to confront because I found that absurd.

To submit and subjugate.

…That’s not why I grasped the sword.

That’s not why I voluntarily pushed forward with that cursed contract.

“I’ll stay until tomorrow.”

If it doesn’t come to my hand even after tomorrow.

“…Then I’ll be the one to reject it.”

-Surprising? There could have been options like winning its heart or not giving up until you gain the qualifications.

“Do I look leisurely enough to be optimistic?”

Time is running out.

Not a metaphor, but reality.

I’m not in a position leisurely enough to wait complacently without realizing I’m being pursued.

Someone might come after me even today.

And.

If news about my situation has somehow reached the upper echelons of the Empire.

“Someone, whoever it is, will be coming.”

If Elhermina truly wants to hold onto me this time.

Can I escape from her grasp?

But it’s too risky for her to appear in person, no matter how I think about it.

In that sense, the Empire is overflowing with talents who can act on her behalf.

Whoever comes, can I shake off their unfair proposals?

And in the worst case.

…If you come, Father.

“……”

A laugh escaped me unconsciously.

If we were to reunite in such a way.

I wonder how our conversation would unfold.

It was somewhat intriguing.

But on the other hand, along with cold sweat seeping through torn skin.

I’m engulfed in an absurdity that seems to squeeze out nonexistent courage and constrict my breathing.

Unless he unilaterally gives up at the moment of confrontation.

Escape or departure is impossible.

There are no other answers.

The result is so obvious it’s almost amusing.

“Indeed. Looking back, I really don’t have time.”

Even if that sword comes into my grasp.

…It would be meaningless if I face my father.

Of course, I won’t die.

But the moment I’m dragged along according to his intentions.

I will have to face everything I gave up and abandoned with my determination and terrible state of mind.

I simply cannot bear that.

What was the reason I shook off Elhermina’s indiscriminate coercion and pleading back then?

“……”

I still haven’t been able to abandon anything.

I haven’t overcome it, nor have I even steeled myself to face it.

So, at least for now, I can’t face it.

For me to sustain myself as myself.

They are still.

The wounds and scars that sit in my deepest, darkest parts.

My most terrible 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.

In any era, disturbing corpses is a cursed act, but who cares if you don’t get caught?

Moreover, since she was the one who had turned these living beings into corpses and remains, her movements were all the more uninhibited.

“Is this it?”

With pale platinum blonde hair and clear, transparent blue eyes.

Her snow-white skin evoked the image of a fairy, and her appearance was beautiful enough to be compared to them.

A high, straight nose.

Thin-lined lips.

Her eyebrows and eyes were very well-proportioned, and even without expression, her appearance was as neat as a well-crafted statue or work of art.

Though her platinum blonde hair was just long enough to tickle her shoulders.

Seemingly averse to having hair around her eyes, she had cut her bangs particularly short, just barely touching her eyebrows, enhancing her clean and neat impression.

This woman pulled out a leather document from the bosom of a man who had been wrapped in layers of leather and chains, looking particularly sturdy.

“Vellum, is it?”

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

Within the Empire, there are several paper-producing regions, so it’s used commonly, but that’s their situation.

She carefully examined the contents, then rolled up the vellum again, tied it, and tucked it inside her purple cloak.

“If even these degenerates are receiving requests… is this some kind of bounty?”

Though there are specific people assigned to capture, they spread manpower to act as hands and feet just in case.

Naturally, this requires astronomical costs, so it’s not something anyone can attempt.

“Fortunately, there’s not much detail here.”

“What are you muttering to yourself about?”

“Oh my!”

Though her words suggested surprise, her tone remained flat.

A man with a wolf’s head asked while stroking his abundant brown fur.

However, below his chin, the fur was not brown but white, though whether due to dust, ash, or blood stains, or perhaps because it was so pristinely white, it looked rather dirty.

“You’re here? How was it over there?”

“How was it? Same as this.”

The wolf man gestured toward the corpses scattered beneath the woman.

“For a mercenary band, their scale is pathetic.”

“This area isn’t a war zone. If you want to find a renowned mercenary band, you should look in conflict regions or battlefields.”

“…What if I go there now and the battles or wars are already over?”

“That’s why the latest information is important, isn’t it?”

When she smiled brightly, the wolf man let out a careless laugh.

“So is it worthwhile to plunder these guys?”

“Of course. Just properly disposing of their equipment would be worth several years’ income for serfs.”

“Why use serfs as a standard?”

Should he laugh at this or question it?

“It’s about rightful punishment for wrongdoers and earning extra income from their equipment and possessions. Claiming a proper reward.”

“…Let’s hope the corpses don’t rise again out of resentment.”

“Then I’ll just kill them again.”

For words spoken with a smiling face, they were remarkably brutal.

There’s no malice or hostility.

Yet being able to commit such acts without batting an eye means she’s considerably twisted.

And if such a twisted being is also exceptionally skilled?

That’s nothing short of a calamity.

“That Somern village over there? What’s there that’s drawing in all these mongrels? Isn’t it about time you told me?”

“Are you curious?”

As she waved the tied vellum document with a smiling eye, the wolf man snatched it and pretended to read it before asking.

“…What does it say?”

“It says the great hero’s rascal son is there, and if you secure him, you’ll get a hefty reward. That’s the content.”

“Great hero. You mean one of the Nine Heroes? Their offspring?”

“Yes.”

The wolf man whistled.

“Is a princess or prince visiting there? Here? Why?”

“I wouldn’t know. And… it’s not the Golden Bloodline but the Radiant Bloodline.”

“Radiant Bloodline? That’s… Huh? No way?!”

“Yes. That’s right.”

She smiled brightly.

“The Radiant Knight. If it’s his child, it’s obvious who it is, isn’t it?”

“…The one they say was a heaven-sent genius in childhood but grew up to be an unparalleled scoundrel?”

“I wouldn’t know. Rumors are always exaggerated.”

“Ases. Don’t tell me you’re after that too?”

Though the wolf man asked with a serious face.

Ases, she opened her blue eyes vividly and smiled.

“Of course not. If anything, the opposite.”

“Huh? Opposite?”

“Gehben. To strike it rich, you have to move in the opposite direction from others.”

Not long after, dwarves and beastkin arrived with carts and began sorting through the corpses for useful items.

The corpses were instantly stripped naked, returning to their primordial state.

The rest would be handled by beasts roaming or claiming territory nearby.

And the woman watching this scene as if enjoying it, looking young enough to be mistaken for a girl at a glance.

“And… it’s not like I don’t have a connection with him.”

With an enigmatic smile, she received the reins of a horse brought by an ash-gray rabbit-headed beastkin and said.

“If things go well, you could earn a substantial share. I guarantee it.”