episode_0028

Gustadolph Whitley, the Führer, the man at the pinnacle of the Duchy of Germania, a nation of necromancy and military dictatorship, spoke.

In his office, adorned with checkered marble and mosaic tiles, the situation, which should have involved one dominating and the other being dominated, was completely reversed.

Regardless, 《Black Serpent》 is an organization that claims to be the mastermind behind this world.

Even though they operate as a select few, having a private meeting with the leaders of various nations is not difficult for them. Just as the Celestial Realm of the Labyrinth City did.

Putting aside the fact that such meetings were not particularly welcome to them.

“Führer Gustadolph Whitley.”

By the way, he was a man whose mustache suited him remarkably well, just like his name. It made me wonder if he’d failed art school admissions in his youth.

I sat opposite him in his office, unconcerned. When I inadvertently turned my head, a massive map of the continent’s territories was drawn on the wall.

I turned my head back to face the Führer across the table. A bronze eagle statue, symbolizing the Duchy, caught my eye.

“…You are aware of the commotion that occurred in the western border city, aren’t you?”

“!”

I spoke. At my question, Führer Whitley silently swallowed.

“Please… forgive the foolish and indiscreet actions shown by the Imperial Guard in front of Sir Rain.”

After swallowing, he continued in a trembling voice.

“Besides those who have already been ‘dealt with’ by Sir Rain, we are thoroughly and extensively purging Imperial Guard personnel responsible for that incident! The list of those to be purged is…”

“…That will suffice.”

A declaration of intent that felt excessively radical and over-the-top, made in a desperate attempt to prove that the Duchy had no intention of antagonizing 《Black Serpent》.

However, before the weight of the serpent’s name, no amount of excess was ever enough.

Purge. At that chilling word, I instinctively wanted to light a cigarette and reached into my pocket. Ignoring the Führer’s startled expression, I took out a cigarette pack and put one in my mouth.

Führer Whitley extended a trembling hand with a lighter. I ignored it and lit the cigarette with magic.

As the cigarette tip ignited by itself, the Führer awkwardly put his lighter away and cleared his throat a few times.

A short silence descended. At the end of the silence, I feigned ignorance and asked again.

“It seemed as though you were looking for something there.”

“Indeed. The former director of the Imperial Guard’s Secret Cadaver Reanimation Bureau absconded with top-secret military intelligence…”

“Since when did become a grimoire valuable enough to be designated as ‘top-secret military intelligence’?”

I asked again. , a high-level necromancy spell designated as legendary in the game. It was certainly powerful and valuable magic.

However, it wasn’t magic on the level of being treated as top-secret military intelligence on its own. Especially not in a powerful nation like the Duchy. At most, it would be designated as a ‘strategic magic.’

Furthermore, as Hella had said, what they were truly after wasn’t the grimoire itself.

It was a few lines of incomprehensible words written within it, babbling about heroes.

At the same time, what value did that incomprehensible content hold that Hella tried so desperately to protect it, and why would a powerful nation like the Duchy covet it?

Perhaps—was there something else hidden that I hadn’t found?

I also needed to know. The meaning it held. Because that was the only clue I had to reach the ‘missing protagonist.’

Where were they now, those heroes who had resolved twenty periods of turmoil and fulfilled their mission?

“Regarding that matter, it is classified…”

Führer Gustadolph Whitley trailed off. As if, even if the man before him was ‘Rain Grey,’ there were things he, as the leader of a nation, had to protect.

“The military intelligence you’re looking for… you mean this, don’t you?”

I paid no mind and pulled it out from my pocket.

The legendary grimoire, .

As I placed the book on the table, Führer Gustadolph Whitley’s expression froze coldly.

It was an expression that screamed, ‘Of all places, it had to be there.’ I could almost hear his thoughts.

“H-how can I get that back?! I would never simply ask for it!”

“What is it you’re looking for?”

“As I told you, my esteemed Sir Rain. I will do anything! So please, please regarding that matter.”

“…”

I remained silent.

By the way, seeing him so desperately trying to hide it, made me want to hear it all the more. Or rather, was it the villain’s heart that felt that way?

The silence continued. It was probably the most awkward silence in the world.

And it wasn’t me who broke the silence.

“Cough, gasp…!”

Suddenly, the Führer grabbed his own throat and began to moan in pain.

As if he couldn’t breathe.

And indeed, that was precisely the case.

He truly wasn’t breathing.

For reference, it’s difficult for a person to last three minutes without air. I silently watched the clock hands tick.

I used air magic to remove the air around the Führer, creating an invisible, unbreathable wall.

As he struggled, clutching his throat, the Führer pressed the emergency bell beneath the table.

Then, those guarding the entrance, who had been granted the honor of protecting the Führer from the closest proximity, burst in.

The elite forces of the Duchy of Germania’s —the Imperial Grenadiers.

Just as they drew their swords, ready to perform their guard duties.

Führer Gustadolph Whitley, who had barely regained his breath, desperately waved his arms and shouted.

“No (Nein)!!”

He frantically waved his hands and screamed at the approaching Imperial Guard, his perfectly parted bangs scattering messily.

“No, no, no, no!! No!!”

It was as if he feared them pointing their weapons at me more than anyone else.

“Before whom do you dare point your swords now! Get out, immediately! Get out, I said!! Shameless wretches (Sie ist ohne Ehre)!!”

As he finally regained his posture and shouted, two Imperial Grenadiers hesitated in confusion, then saluted in the Duchy’s style and withdrew.

“Gasp, gasp.”

“I am not here to make requests or offers, Führer.”

Only then did I speak again. To him, whose bangs were a mess and who was barely catching his breath.

One of the few good things about being a villain is that you don’t need a lot of unnecessary words to lead a conversation.

“Speak.”

If I just maintain an imposing silence, they’ll spill everything on their own.

So I spoke. Briefly.

“Th-that. What is hidden in is…”

At the end of a short silence, the Führer continued, his trembling hand fumbling with his parted hair.

“A map… it is.”

As expected, besides the few words written there, there was something else I had missed.

“A map to where?”

Surely, it wasn’t for buried treasure.

“…The Mausoleum.”

“The Mausoleum?”

“Literally, the tomb of heroes.”

The tomb of heroes, a Mausoleum.

In this world, the name ‘hero’ carries a special and unique meaning.

“It is said to be a tomb and a place of exile where heroes who have completed their mission are forgotten… and banished from the world…”

“Where is this place?”

“We do not know the exact location! Only that it lies at the ‘border’ outside this world. And that is one of the ‘maps’ leading to it…”

A place of exile where heroes who have completed their mission are banished from the world. The border outside the world.

“Do you know how to decipher the map?”

“N-not yet.”

The Führer wiped his sweat and replied.

“Above all, the map in that book is only a part of it—.”

“That will suffice.”

It didn’t seem like a lie. At least, I had enough insight to discern that much. Moreover, the man before me wasn’t foolish enough to lie just to smooth things over in front of 《Black Serpent》.

“Finally, I have one request.”

“P-please speak.”

“Do not lay a hand on former Senior Leader Hella anymore.”

After those words, I rose. The Führer looked at the on the desk with a glimmer of hope, and I simply picked it up and put it in my pocket.

After putting it away, I silently stood up and exited the office.

That place, unnecessarily large, desolate, and filled with meaningless grandeur, its interior exceeding a hundred pyeong and filled with all sorts of classical artworks to the Führer’s taste.

As I exited the office and crossed the gallery, making my way out, no one blocked my path. No one at all.

*

After the man disappeared, the Führer was left alone in his office.

As soon as he left, the highest-ranking officers of the Imperial Guard hurriedly entered the Führer’s office, filling the room. In the stiff atmosphere, Führer Whitley silently gazed at them.

“F-Führer Your Excellency…”

As several officers repeatedly opened and closed their mouths in the chilling, frozen air.

The Führer, after fumbling with his mustache with a faintly trembling hand, broke the silence.

“Right now, bring all those bastards from the Fourth Bureau—the Secret Cadaver Reanimation Bureau—to me. Alive. Especially Colonel Hydra, no matter what, make sure all four of his limbs are perfectly intact—.”

“B-but Your Excellency, most of them have already been purged…”

Upon hearing that, Gustadolph Whitley raised his voice like a shout.

“If they’re dead, bring them back to life and bring them to me!”

As the Führer leading the Duchy of Germania, a nation of necromancy and military dictatorship.