Someone's Script

I can hear the sound of commotion from behind the door I’m leaning against.

It seems Claire’s stress might have reached its peak.

Fortunately, since there are no screams from Claire, she must be handling things well.

“Ohh……”

As the time grew longer—and the pleading voice of someone and the choking, gasping sounds in between increased—even Línea, who had been worried about Claire, was at a loss for words.

“Is this because of you, Lost?”

“Why so suddenly?”

“No, this…… isn’t this your method?”

“Now that I hear it, it does seem like it.”

A method almost indistinguishable from torture.

This was a bit different from the Claire I remembered.

Seeing how she’s controlling the intensity to make her opponent suffer, it’s definitely closer to the heresy inquisitor’s method.

Still, that’s not a bad thing.

“Being thorough is good. Especially considering who we’re dealing with. For now, it’s better to let her get everything out.”

Teska is trash.

How many times had I wanted to kill that bastard before my regression?

That was a thought I had every time I encountered those who became half-demons against their own will while acting as a heresy inquisitor.

Claire probably felt the same.

After all, she lost her family because of methods like that. In a way, this could be considered revenge.

So, regrettable as it may be, I’ll have to yield Teska’s head to Claire.

There are things I’d like to ask him too, but… this is probably for the best.

“Ah, Lost.”

“Yes, it seems things are wrapping up.”

The struggling sounds from behind the door began to subside.

It means the demonic energy’s regenerative power has reached its limit, and death is approaching.

I had been blocking the door to prevent Teska from escaping, but it seems the time has come to step aside.

As I moved slightly away from the door and leaned against the wall…

Creak.

The door opened, and Claire, her entire body stained with blood, appeared.

There’s a dense killing intent in her eyes, unmistakable. If someone else had seen her, they might have thought she was a demon.

That’s how eerie the feeling is.

“It’s done.”

“Yes, well done.”

“I feel refreshed.”

“……”

She’s probably referring to breaking free from the environment that had been suppressing her until now. That must be it. Surely.

No matter what, the kid wouldn’t have gone this crazy.

“I need to wash up.”

“Ah, I’ll help you……”

“It’s okay, unnie. I’m healthy now, so I can do it myself.”

Claire, who had just been battling a demon, headed toward the bathroom as if nothing had happened.

With each of her cheerful steps, blood seeped out thickly.

“She seems quite excited.”

Yes, she’s spent her whole life practically confined to a bed. At this moment, liberated from that oppression and pain, she likely doesn’t feel any fatigue.

“But is she really okay losing that much blood?”

“Of course not.”

Thud.

As soon as the words left my mouth, Claire, who had been heading towards the bathroom with cheerful steps, collapsed as if fainting.

With the tension released, the effects of the holy power that had been sustaining her life snapped as well.

Being accustomed to pain, she couldn’t gauge her own limits.

Seeing this absurd scene, Línea’s eyes grew cold.

“……Will this happen a lot in the future?”

“For the time being, yes. But only for a while. If we put armor on her, she’ll get hurt less, don’t you think?”

In fact, the Claire I knew often wore thick plate armor.

Not only is it good for defensive purposes, but it was also the best for utilizing her physical abilities.

Claire is strong. All the things she’d been suppressing until now have become her strength, causing her physical abilities to rise to an unbelievable level.

Probably comparable to Titan.

To handle such immense power, she naturally needs to use a weapon of matching weight, and for that, not just the weight of the weapon, but Claire’s body itself needs to have weight.

If you’re going to wield a weapon heavier than your own weight, that makes sense.

“I’ll leave it to you as usual, Línea.”

“Hmm, that’s right. It’ll take some time to wash her, change her clothes, and lay her down. Though I was just wasting time in the castle.”

“I have no one else but you.”

“Just with words?”

Normally, she would have smiled broadly and said to leave it to her with just these words, but today she’s a bit tougher.

“……Do you need a treatment fee?”

“Indeed. Calculating based on a consultation with a doctor from the Spirin County, it would cost quite a bit, don’t you think?”

“Hmm……”

Honestly, it wouldn’t be strange for her to demand payment.

If we were to calculate just the free care she’s given to me, Titan, and Claire until now, we’d have to pay an enormous medical bill. It’s practically like she’s treated us with her own charity.

Materials and tools aren’t free either.

Well, it’s all a joke anyway.

If she was going to charge a medical fee, she would have done so long ago. There’s no way she’d do it now.

“For now, three gold coins should do.”

“Haha.”

“Three gold coins.”

“……”

Seeing no change in her expression, it seems this isn’t a joke.

Setting aside the question of why now, it’s quite an expensive price.

Of course, if this includes all the treatment costs so far, it’s ridiculously cheap, but still.

“I’ll put it on your tab for now.”

“No, I can give you that much. Just wait a moment.”

“I said I’ll put it on your tab.”

“……Why?”

“The more debt you have, don’t you think you would feel more indebted to me, Lost?”

An unimaginable reason.

“I should at least burden you with material debt so you’ll treat me well.”

“I can treat you well even without debt.”

“In what way?”

“……”

When she asks like that, I’m at a loss for words. Being good to someone is just being good. Is there anything specific about it?

“In what way will you be good to me?”

Línea steps closer. There’s a mischievous smile on her face.

The meaning of that smile was simple.

She, too, has started to expect something in return for her actions.

“Would it be enough if I praise you?”

“Go ahead.”

“Um, you’re someone who knows how to care for the weak. You’re very kind and good.”

“Is that all?”

“Uh, um. Your hair is black, and your eyes are purple. I think that’s very pretty.”

“……”

Even I wonder what nonsense I’m spouting. There’s no metaphor, just saying it’s black and purple, so it’s pretty.

Still, that’s all that came to mind, so it can’t be helped.

Línea’s gaze is piercing.

It’s a blatant gaze that says, ‘What kind of guy is this?’

“……Those are colors I like.”

Since I’ve already messed up, I added a plausible reason. Considering it was a statement that came out without any metaphor, there couldn’t be a more accurate reason.

“Alright, I’ll deduct 2 gold coins.”

Fortunately, she seems to like it.

It feels like she’s being lenient, but judging by how her tail is wagging, her mood has definitely improved.

I’m not sure if she was really upset in the first place, though.

It might have just been a joke.

“Then I’ll take Claire with me. You should rest well too, Lost.”

With those final words, Línea left, supporting Claire.

Seeing Claire’s blood staining Línea’s clothes red, it felt justified for her to ask for money.

That’s probably an expensive outfit.

Even if it has automatic repair or cleanliness-related magic cast on it, if it keeps getting dirty like this, the magic cast on it will eventually reach its limit.

I now owe Línea the cleaning cost of the clothes she’s wearing.

“Ahem, ahem. You two seem to get along well.”

“We wouldn’t have traveled together this far if we didn’t get along.”

“No, that’s not what I meant……”

“More importantly, are you feeling better? Sir Rectus. Now that the incident is over, you could have gone to rest.”

“How could I just stand by when my guests have problems? I am, after all, a person who also serves as Viscount Leze’s representative.”

Before becoming a knight, he would have been a person without a clear status. Did the Viscount entrust him with such a position?

I’m not sure if it’s foolish or bold, but it’s certain that Viscount Leze trusts Sir Rectus.

If Sir Rectus had been a spy from another domain, the Leze Viscounty would have been destroyed by now.

“And if I went to rest now, I wouldn’t be able to rest properly anyway. After all, my vision and senses feel completely different. Haha! This must be the sensation experienced by those who have reached the level of a master. Ah! I’m not particularly boasting.”

It definitely feels like he’s boasting.

Although his tone is a bit irritating, it’s a matter that could make one’s ego inflate, so it’s better to let it slide.

It seems there are many people today who need praise.

“……Ah, yes. Congratulations. Reaching the level of a master is impressive.”

“Ohohoho! It’s not that much!”

Was he always this kind of person?

It doesn’t overlap at all with the solemn impression of the demon official who drove me to death before my regression.

It’s a sad thing.

How desperate must his circumstances have been for someone like this to become like that?

At least for now, it would be good to pray that such events don’t repeat themselves.

Having reached the level of a master, it’s unlikely to happen, but still.

At least I can pray for him.

“You’ve worked hard today, Sir Rectus. Thanks to your efforts, the Leze Viscounty has been protected once again.”

“Haha! Is that so? I’m honored.”

As I exchanged idle jokes with Sir Rectus, the day came to an end.

This journey has yielded a lot.

Claire awakened her holy power, and Titan also managed to manipulate mana.

Línea might have become a bit more cunning, but I think she’s just become more honest.

And I……

“Can I boast to others that I’ve been acknowledged by the Apostle?”

“Of course. Do as you please.”

I’ve been able to become friends with the enemy who killed me in the past.

*     *      *

Wallace Hope was silently doing paperwork in his office.

And near Wallace Hope, leaning against the wall with a casual posture that seemed to ignore all etiquette, was a robust man.

One of Belial’s Seven Blades.

The Blade of Destruction, Rex. Among the seven demons selected by Belial, he was the one with the most exceptional strength.

He was also one of the core forces, to the extent that Belial even tolerated Rex’s impertinent manner of speech.

At least, excluding devils, there was no being as strong as him among Belial’s forces.

“Ah! It seems Teska has kicked the bucket! Is that okay?”

Rex suddenly spoke as if he had sensed something.

Belial and the Seven Blades who received power directly from him had a connection, allowing them to sense each other’s existence.

And according to what he felt, the Blade of Devastation, Teska, had been taken down.

“Isn’t it a problem if he dies?”

Rex generally viewed the other Blades as beneath him, but Teska was an exception.

Putting aside strength, he was an indispensable talent.

Rex was simple, making it difficult for him to draw in other half-demons.

How about Teska?

Teska, with his unique schemes and eloquence, had reached the level of mass-producing half-demons. He had even set up facilities called “farms.”

And now he was dead. Considering the war that’s approaching, someone who absolutely shouldn’t have died has died.

“Hey?”

That’s why Rex couldn’t understand Wallace Hope’s indifferent attitude, acting as if nothing had happened.

He used to get angry.

When Mez was taken down, he clearly radiated a deadly aura.

In contrast, after Margaret’s death, his attitude began to change subtly.

‘Back then, he definitely had an expression of disbelief.’

When Margaret ruined the plan and was shot in return.

Wallace Hope didn’t get angry or harbor killing intent.

He just smiled wryly, as if it was unbelievable.

“The situation has changed.”

“The situation? Because an apostle has appeared? Can’t we just go and kill him?”

It shouldn’t be difficult.

Rex believed he could behead Lost right now if he wanted to.

Whatever the other Blades might do, he had such overwhelming power.

And if he could do it, so could Belial.

Uprooting the seed before the apostle grew was something they had mechanically repeated for thousands of years.

There’s no reason to show such a skeptical reaction now.

“He cannot be killed.”

But Wallace Hope said it as if it was obvious.

Seeing that indifferent attitude, Rex felt a chill.

“That’s the script. Probably nothing ordinary will be able to kill him. Conversely, we’ll only reveal our hand to them.”

“Then Teska……”

“Yes, Teska. He was an important talent. But not anymore.”

If this is a script designed by someone, it would be hard to avoid.

Even the assassination plan for Línea Spirin, which was thought to be absolutely foolproof, had gone up in bubbles.

A plan that couldn’t fail had failed. Someone’s influence had touched it.

“How can we salvage a script that’s already been broken?”

The quality of the work is on their side.

Meanwhile, the script he’s written is already understood by the opponent.

“If the protagonist of the stage knows his future and messes up the script by doing as he pleases?”

How can a work where future developments, foreshadowing, and twists are all exposed lead to a masterpiece?

“It’s a simple principle. Don’t try to salvage it. Just write a new script.”

If one can’t guarantee the future, one can just write a different story.

For example, a story unfolding in a place untouched by the scriptwriter’s hand.

Something that won’t change no matter how the opponent anticipates and strives.

“Now, no matter how much you struggle, it’s a script determined to be a tragedy.”

A completed script, that is.