Chapter 50: Omen

“Then, if you’ll excuse me, Your Highnesses, I’ll take my leave.”

“Alright.”

Seriously, why are you talking without me? What about my opinion?

Even the Duke subtly backed away.

“I should get going too. Excuse me.”

This really makes it feel like things are over.

No, it really is over.

The Duke and Cruel disappeared, and the Crown Prince and Princess waved me off, telling me to hurry along.

General Nemesius also gestured for me to follow quickly, grabbing the guy by the collar and picking up the scattered documents on the floor as he led the way.

And the court physician, who had been hesitating and reading the room…

“I’ll send some restorative medicine to your residence later, so please don’t forget to take it.”

“…?”

“So please, take care of your health. Please.”

He whispered urgently, sounding desperate for some reason, and then hurried away.

Unable to adapt to this situation, I stood there blankly, glancing over at the General.

He was striding forward with an air that suggested he’d kill anyone who didn’t follow.

‘The restroom….’

Judging by the atmosphere, it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.

In the end, I had no choice but to awkwardly follow him.

***

Leaving the Imperial Palace, the Duke got into the carriage heading towards his residence and immediately pulled something from his chest.

One of the documents the servant had dropped earlier.

On the white paper, the budget for waging war was densely written.

Cruel’s gaze turned to him, seemingly aware of the paper’s identity, but the Duke didn’t care.

Ignoring her completely, he quickly scanned the contents of the document before folding it and tucking it away.

In his mind, the conversation he’d had with the Emperor a little while ago was replaying.

“You said you weren’t going to war anytime soon.”

Yet you’ve already prepared the budget.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

A clear sneer appeared on the Duke’s face.

Since it’s come to this, shall I give you a little help?

The Demon Realm must be your biggest worry, Your Majesty.

‘At least they’ll stay quiet until Your Majesty controls half the continent.’

The Duke gently touched the area near his heart.

And Cruel watched his actions silently.

***

“You don’t look well. Are you feeling sick somewhere?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“But you’re breaking out in a cold sweat.”

“I’m alright.”

There’s no way I can say it’s because I couldn’t go to the bathroom. I’d be too embarrassed to even mention it.

I made an effort to compose myself and straightened my back.

The Emperor, sitting in the chair across the table, narrowed his eyes and scanned me, as if trying to gauge my condition.

Seeing this, I sat up even straighter, pretending to be perfectly fine, and he chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

“If you say so, then so be it. I’m just saying this out of concern, but don’t hide it if you’re not feeling well. You are one of the Empire’s important assets.”

“I understand.”

“Then I’ll ask again.”

“……”

“I heard you caught an operative. Are you alright?”

Beneath his relaxed and leisurely expression, golden eyes like a predator’s gleamed sharply, probing me.

Unable to meet his gaze directly, I subtly averted my eyes and answered.

“I’m fine.”

I really am fine. I was grazed by his blade, but it was just a graze. The cold sweat and paleness are just because something inside me feels like it’s about to burst.

If you’re really worried, give me a short break. Then I’ll be perfectly fine.

I was definitely sincere, but for some reason, the Emperor’s brow furrowed at my words.

He was silent for a moment, then barely lifted the corner of his mouth as he spoke again.

“…Alright, I’ll ask something else then. What brings you here?”

“It’s about the Hart territory….”

“If you’re planning to return it or make a similar request, I’ll refuse in advance. Oh, and the same goes for anything related to the Lofty Knights.”

“…Then quitting my job.”

“That won’t do either.”

I expected the refusal, but to be rejected before I even finished speaking.

I wanted to grab his collar and shout, ‘I’m trying to give it to you, why won’t you take it?!’ Of course, if I did that, my head wouldn’t stay attached to my body.

Just as I was about to get lost in my thoughts, the Emperor’s voice, laced with amusement, was heard again.

“However, if you fulfill my request, I’ll grant you one wish. How about asking again then?”

The Emperor’s request… it feels ominous.

But since I don’t have any other way to persuade him, I slowly nodded.

Then, the Emperor asked, a strange expression on his face, as if testing the waters.

“Cruel Hart is also assigned to the same task, so if you both participate, I’ll have to grant the wish of whoever completes it first. Will you still do it?”

“…I will.”

Grant Cruel’s wish? Absolutely not. Who knows what kind of wish she’d make.

She might even make a wish that’s detrimental to me.

If the opponent were a regular noble, it’d be different, but Cruel is a ‘hero’ like me.

Faced with the reasonable demands of a talented ‘resource’ like him, the chances of the Emperor siding with me were slim to none.

That’s why I spoke to him with a determined attitude.

“What do you need me to do?”

The Emperor, who had been watching me with a searching, expressionless gaze, now had a faint smile on his lips.

He took a document from Nemesius and slid it in front of me. My eyes naturally fell on the word that seemed to be the title at the top of the page.

[Salvation Church]

“…Salvation Church?”

“Yes, the Salvation Church. A pseudo-religion that’s been running rampant in the slums lately. I need you to eliminate them.”

Eliminate a pseudo-religion.

Faced with a mission of this kind for the first time, I was completely dumbfounded.

***

Deon Hart left, already seeming to be contemplating how to handle the task, a thoughtful expression on his face. The Emperor, who had been rereading the documents while seated, raised his eyes to look at Nemesius.

A rare expression of displeasure was visible on his face.

The Emperor put down the document he was holding and spoke casually.

“Still dissatisfied?”

“I am against it.”

The answer was immediate.

The Emperor rubbed his brow at the resolute answer.

Nemesius disliked Deon Hart. No, he was excessively wary of him.

The Emperor said in a weary tone.

“Even so, isn’t he better than Cruel Hart? She’s the Duke’s subordinate, after all.”

[I understand Your Majesty has been troubled by fanatics lately. Coincidentally, Lady Cruel has offered to step forward for Your Majesty, even if it means sacrificing her break. Shouldn’t fanatics be eliminated for the sake of the war?]

[…That’s going too far. I have no intention of starting a war yet.]

[Oh dear, it seems I was mistaken. My apologies.]

The Emperor slightly frowned, recalling the Duke pushing his subordinate forward with a brazen face.

The Duke’s intentions were obvious.

A hero with the Duke’s backing would easily eliminate the fanatics. Since these were the very people troubling the ‘Emperor’, the Emperor himself would have to reward him.

When demanding that ‘reward’, the Duke’s influence would be so strong as to be ‘inevitable’. It would undoubtedly be a request that benefited the Duke himself.

He had initially planned to bring Deon Hart in anyway, but this solidified his decision.

He was undoubtedly on the ‘Emperor’s faction’, more specifically, ‘Eudoardo Deserte’s’ side. His skills were outstanding, so there was no worry about him losing to Cruel, and since his opponent was Cruel, his motivation was also high.

A truly ideal piece.

But Nemesius…

“I believe they are one and the same in terms of risk.”

“……”

“He is dangerous.”

Nemesius was firm.

As if determined to convince the Emperor this time, his eyes shone fiercely as he dared to look directly at the Emperor.

It was clearly disrespectful behavior, but the Emperor didn’t rebuke him.

Because his eyes held no defiance.

He was ‘begging’ for his words to be heard with such urgency, how could he scold him?

His voice was rushed and anxious.

“Do you know what he did during the Eight Years’ War?”

“I heard he was ruthless, leaving enemies mangled. Is that the reason?”

“No. That was probably his way of surviving, a strategy. So, that’s not the important part.”

A small boy with white hair and red eyes that made him stand out even more.

It was the first time a noble had enlisted as a regular soldier, and since he was under his command, he naturally caught his eye.

The unbelievably weak child was, understandably, not used to killing people.

Even ordinary people suffer long-term effects after their first kill. But in the relentless grind of the battlefield, there was no time to collect oneself.

So, how would a child, who had chosen ‘cruelty’ as a means of survival, fare, when even grown men struggled?

A child’s mind is much weaker than an adult’s.

That child had to create corpses with his own hands, sights that were unbearable to even witness.

He had to grip a dagger that looked too big for his small hands and stab people, feeling the sensation.

He was consumed by madness, then pulled himself back, repeating the cycle.

“That kid….”

He must have been going out of his mind.

He must have felt that he was reaching the limit of his ability to stay sane.

While maintaining his cruelty, being consumed by madness, and suffering from the overwhelming guilt—

…He had to stay sane.

Do you know what method the child chose in such a situation?

‘Hey… are you okay?’

‘Yes? What do you mean?’

‘Well….’

‘Ah, if you mean my injuries, I’m fine. They weren’t serious.’

‘No, not that, I meant during the battle just now…!’

‘General.’

‘…….’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Nemesius couldn’t hide his trembling eyes.

“That kid split his own personality!”

The child, holding his wavering mind with both hands, confused, seemed to make a decision and went into his tent with alcohol and medicine, staying there for three consecutive days.

And that’s how he created two personalities.

No, even calling them personalities is ambiguous. It would be more accurate to call them ‘characters’.

Because it would be a stretch to call someone with the ability to remember everything and switch between them at will ‘two personalities’.

The child gave himself two characters.

A bloodthirsty ‘mad character’ focused solely on combat and survival, and

A ‘normal character’ that only remembered normal combat and his usual self.

“In other words, he even discarded the guilt he himself had to bear!”

When trying to mention the things he did while in his ‘mad character’ to the child when he was portraying his ‘normal character’, he would feign ignorance and change the subject.

He knew. He knew what he had done.

He was simply pretending not to know under the guise of ‘rationalization’.

Denying and turning a blind eye to the things he had done.

“What do you think will happen if such a person’s mind collapses?”

He was so burdened by the guilt he himself had to bear that he resorted to such an extreme method to discard it.

Therefore, that kid’s mental fortitude must be as fragile as a sandcastle. It was obvious that simply making him face reality would be enough to make him crumble.

What will happen if you keep favoring such a person and his mind breaks down?

However, unlike someone who had heard such a serious matter directly, the Emperor was calm.

Sitting with his legs crossed leisurely, he listened to Nemesius’s words until the end, and the first thing he said was something utterly relaxed, as if he were talking about something from another world.

“What of it?”

Uncrossing his legs, he leaned forward.

The Emperor, looking directly at Nemesius’s face as it drew closer, added a cold smile to his expressionless face.

“I am aware of that fact.”