Chapter 94 - An Unwelcome Guest

Even after returning to her assigned room and sitting there alone, she still struggled to understand what she had just heard.

Lying on the bed, Morrigan raised her arm and studied it. The black bandages Aiden Kellermain had wrapped around it with Mana a short while ago were still there.

She quietly sat up.

She owned almost nothing, but even she had a few keepsakes she held on to for the memories. When she opened a drawer, familiar objects greeted her: the bottles of medicine Aiden had raised all sorts of hell to obtain when she had played the part of a sick girl with an infectious disease.

Morrigan quietly gathered up the bandages that had just been around her arm and laid them beside the bottles.

Both were proof of Aiden Kellermain's kindness toward her. For someone who had spent her entire life as another person's tool, being treated this way twice was utterly unfamiliar.

And on one of those occasions, they had been complete strangers.

'... So that's the kind of person he is.'

Anytime. Anywhere.

Someone who could speak up in his own voice whenever he thought it necessary. Someone who would confront anyone if he thought they were in the wrong.

... Someone who couldn't bear to see others suffer.

Hadn't Ganesha asked her once?

["What sort of person do you think he is?"]

What had she answered then?

'... A good person.'

Yes. He was a good person.

Good enough to stir something she couldn't identify even in someone as devoid of emotion as her.

"..."

And so. Precisely because of that.

A thing like her had no right whatsoever to grow close to him.

She killed the feeling. Pushed it down.

["Remember this, failure."]

Someone's voice came back to her. Words she had heard since childhood, drilled into her with the relentlessness of brainwashing.

["You're a tool. Don't imagine you can be worth anything more."]

"..."

Morrigan slowly closed her eyes.

'A sense of self.'

Emotions.

She must not have them.

Repeating that to herself, she stood rooted to the spot for a long time.

▣

"Hey, come to think of it."

"Yes?"

"You told that dragonkin girl to take better care of herself, didn't you?"

"I did, yes?"

"Are you really in any position to give that advice, you lunatic?"

"..."

He didn't know why the assessment was so scathing, but his advice clearly hadn't been entirely wrong.

-System Message

▶ You have handled the Side Quest wisely.

▶ Target 'Drakan's affection increases.

▶ Bond rises from Level 1 to Level 2.

▶ You gain 1 additional skill-copying opportunity!

Why, didn't the window right in front of him prove it?

'... Another skill-copying opportunity.'

Actually, he'd accumulated quite a few unused ones.

Aiden was fundamentally the sort to value thinking on his feet. That was why he saved his skill-copying opportunities rather than using them immediately, waiting to see what the situation called for.

Extra lives, perhaps? Copying whatever skill he needed in the moment had proven the most dramatically effective way to survive a scenario riddled with every imaginable variable.

It was only natural, then, that looking at his current skill window filled him with satisfaction.

-Skill Info

◈ Weaver of Fate

【 Noel Astria Seamus 】

- Utter Infatuation: Level 3

- You may copy 3 skills.

◆ Heart of Pure White

◆ Energy Enhancement: Consecration

【 Katya Heinkel Craven 】

- Obsession: Level 2

- You may copy 1 skill.

◆ The First Vow

◆ Sacred Body

⎨ Lionel XIII ⎬

- Bond: Level 1

◆ Unique Trait: Imperial Bloodline

⎨ Dunadan U`zal ⎬

- Bond: Level 1

◆ General Supernatural Power: Dharmic Power → Savior’s Vow

⎨ Rania A`shan ⎬

- Bond: Level 1

◆ Spiritual Attunement

⎨ Meyer Belford ⎬

- Bond: Level 1

◆ Analysis

⎨ Abigail III ⎬

- Bond: Level 2

- You may copy 1 skill.

◆ Divinity Manipulation: Detonation

⎨ Grand Duke Aslan ⎬

- Bond: Level 3

◆ Trait: Magical Beast Hunter

◆ Skill: Tracking

◆ Skill: Ironman’s Instinct

⎨ Lady Liza ⎬

- Bond: Level 1

◆ Skill: Magical-Beast Transformation

⎨ Soul Reaver ⎬

- Bond: Level 1

◆ Skill: Primordial Strength

⎨ Teresa Adelaite ⎬

- Bond: Level 2

- You may copy 2 skills.

⎨ Ganesha Aldebaran ⎬

- Bond: Level 2

- You may copy 1 skill.

◆ Appraisal

⎨ Drakan ⎬

- Bond: Level 2

- You may copy 1 skill.

◆

⎨ Sier Maxwell ⎬

- Bond: Level 1

- You may freely use the facility 'Workshop' once.

⧾ Arden Brimstone Lionel

- Malice: Level 1

◇ Spiral - Bore

⧾ 'Puppeteer', Rad Barfon [ Exorcism Brand ]

- Malice: Level 2

◇ Demonic Energy: Divine Command

◇ Demonic Energy: Flow Regulation

! The 'Repulsion' function is available !

⧾ 'Magician', Azula

- Malice: Level 1

- You may imitate 1 skill.

◈ 'Goddess of War' Karva

- You may borrow 1 authority.

- Information is not yet accessible.

'... Oh, man.'

Reassuring. Just looking at it left him feeling full.

One of his most recently acquired skills stood out in particular.

-Skill Info

◆ Special Supernatural Power: Mana

The basic material used to activate magic lost in antiquity. It also forms the basic units of Mana-based life-forms' bodies and is an essential resource for those creatures.

Mana allows you to use magic. Though this special ability is unsafe, it grants access to techniques entirely outside the modern system of supernatural powers.

'... Hmm.'

Aiden gave an inward huff as he read through the description.

The supernatural powers bestowed by each nation's chief deity were all manifestations of their authority. Once learned and honed, they demanded no particular price for producing phenomena that defied the laws of physics.

One grew stronger in proportion to the effort spent honing them. That was why they were called grace.

Magic worked through Mana, on the other hand...

'That's the kind of power you take responsibility for yourself.'

Dragons were all but extinct, and even their chief deity, the Dragon God, was absent from the pantheon. Using such a being's supernatural power carried considerably greater risks than one might think.

Ultimately, supernatural power was like currency paid to bend the laws of the world. Power belonging to a god outside the pantheon was something like unverified, illicit currency.

What continued use of it might do to the user was entirely unknown. Their flesh might rot, or they might lose their mind.

Put like that, it sounded as though he'd gained nothing of benefit, but...

'I seem to remember there being a ton of useful stuff.'

Dragons hadn't ruled the continent in ages past for nothing. Many high-tier spells had distinctive strengths that were difficult to reproduce even with supernatural powers.

'... Looks like Morrigan and I will be spending plenty more time together.'

He could study it at his leisure while she was around.

In any case, having this many skill-copying opportunities left was excellent news. With this many extra lives in reserve, he could hardly help grinning even in his sleep...

["... You can still smile?"]

Reaver, lying battered to a pulp beside him, spoke in disbelief.

Their combined death count today was hovering around two hundred, which was, in short, a number that made Aiden think:

'... Why wouldn't I smile?'

Hmm. What was the problem?

"... Anyway, where'd that one go? The chatty kid?"

"..."

Seeing someone who counted among the defining knights of an era reduced to 'the chatty kid,' Aiden answered with a sigh.

"If you mean Dame Teresa, she's taking a break."

"A break?"

"She shut herself away, saying she had something to research. Apparently, she found some good inspiration and will let us know when she has results."

Perhaps using the Remnant technique had given her some insight. Rather than appearing here, she seemed to have retreated into the very depths of consciousness.

He had no idea what she was researching so intently, though.

"More importantly, senior, there's something I'd like to ask."

"Hmm? What is it?"

"Do you know much about the Holy Kingdom?"

His reason for asking was obvious.

-Quest Info

◈ Act 2, < Blasphemy >

- Chapter 1, < Proving Worthiness >

▶ Related events will be updated soon!

The old friend forever tightening the leash around his neck had, inevitably, started its bullshit again.

Aiden rubbed his forehead and glared at the window.

'... This part was...'

If he recalled correctly, it was an utterly unhinged, chaotic romp through the holy capital, revolving around the Holy Kingdom's succession rights.

Granted, few countries avoided a complete mess when it came to the succession of power. But things were particularly bad in the Holy Kingdom, where anyone capable of wielding divinity, the source of its supernatural power, qualified to become royalty.

"... That's a filthy place, too."

How bad must it have been for those to be the Knight of Dawn's first words upon hearing the question?

Meyer spoke with a bitter smile, his words seeming to contain a wealth of sentiments.

"Ever heard of a venom jar?"

"Isn't that a form of shamanic magic from the Far East?"

A vicious method of breeding the strongest by making the contents kill one another until only one remained, if he remembered right.

He'd heard it originally used insects for shamanic magic.

"That's exactly how they used to decide succession over there. They did it with people."

"..."

"There's a reason every Pontiff in history was the strongest divinity wielder of their age. Most were chosen that way. If the previous Pontiff died unexpectedly, sometimes they'd gather up the young royals to do it."

"..."

"Ever seen it? Kids barely fifteen being handed weapons and told to kill each other. In my day, there wasn't a single succession over there that didn't reek of blood."

"... They don't use methods that horrific these days, senior."

"The essence of a thing doesn't change that easily, junior."

Meyer met Aiden's words with an indifferent retort.

"Culture shapes that essence, and culture is the sum of what the people in a group want. Divinity is the foundation of the Holy Kingdom, and whoever represents that divinity must be the best in the Holy Kingdom. I'd wager everyone in that country still believes that."

"..."

"Only the form will have changed. The essence will be the same. Once the succession begins, a storm sweeps through that place in one form or another. That's only natural."

Aiden frowned at him. Meyer gave a faint chuckle and continued.

"If you're going there to get involved, you'd better steel yourself. You might see the very depths of hell."

"... I've always been prepared for that."

With that, Aiden raised his body, which had begun to regenerate.

"So there's a favor I'd like to ask."

"Huh? What favor?"

"I think I need to learn how to fight high-tier divinity wielders. We're starting special training today."

Whatever else happened, if he was going to interfere in the Holy Kingdom's succession, he would have more run-ins with divinity wielders than he could possibly stomach.

Fortunately, Aiden had a sparring partner whose abilities ranked among the greatest handful in all of history. Shouldn't he make as much use of him as possible?

"Let's have you start fighting with at least your divinity unlocked. I can learn by getting beaten up."

"... Well, I don't mind."

Meyer gave Aiden a dubious look.

"But haven't you died a hundred times today alone?"

"It's fine. I'm feeling fresh."

The world wouldn't wait just because he was tired. Tomorrow's sun would rise regardless. Better to prepare for its rising than to pray it wouldn't come.

["I'm not feeling fresh!"]

... Whether Reaver screamed or not, tomorrow's sun would rise all the same.

▣

And perhaps Meyer's warning that a storm would begin brewing with the succession ceremony hadn't been empty words after all.

In fact, considering how quickly things were moving, calling it a typhoon rather than a storm would hardly have been an exaggeration.

The next day, the capital's headquarters—already bustling with activity lately—was in such chaos it looked as though a bomb had gone off.

That was hardly a common sight. The Lionhearted, the face of the nation, resided there, as did Katya, a guest from the Holy Kingdom. Imperial dignitaries came and went regularly as well.

Across the entire continent, there couldn't be many visitors important enough to throw such a place into instant turmoil.

Unfortunately, the guest who had just arrived met that description perfectly.

"Hey, layabout."

Abigail III.

The current Pontiff spoke, her healthy white teeth flashing in stark contrast to her black vestments.

"Remember the promise you made last time?"

"..."

"You said you'd help if my country ran into trouble, right?"

"... I did, yes."

"Time to pack."

"..."

"We leave tomorrow, all right?"