Chapter 91 - Falling (1)

1

Last year, two young ladies received epithets from His Majesty the Emperor.

... Sylvia, daughter of Baron Evanail...

... A golden thread has blossomed in the midst of a yellow garden...

... Henceforth, people shall call you...

Lady Golden Silk Blossom.

The female lead of this world.

... Raviel, daughter of Duke Ivansia...

... A flower plated in silver, lest its head droop...

... Child. Henceforth, the subjects of the empire shall call you...

Lady Silver Lily.

The villainess of this apocalypse.

Daughters of noble houses usually received their epithets at their debutante balls—the balls marking their debut in society. The royal or high noble who hosted the ball would present them with a new name.

The prestige of a young lady's epithet varied according to how exalted its giver was. A name bestowed by a baron was on a different level from one bestowed by a count.

Naturally, the most colorful epithets were those bestowed by the emperor himself. Simply receiving a name from His Majesty was a glory for one's family and a personal honor.

With two such young ladies attending the same academy, an enormous storm was inevitable.

'Even so...'

I looked at the crown prince. He was holding my companion, the Inquisitor, who had taken on the role of Lady Golden Silk Blossom. His embrace was so tight that the Inquisitor's clothes bunched around his fingertips like ripples of shimmering water.

'Isn't he a little too frivolous for the crown prince of a nation?'

For some strange reason, I didn't like it.

The crown prince's eyes met mine. Since I'd been looking at him with some disbelief, I quickly had to lower my gaze. But his gaze was strange, too.

Contempt. Anger. Disdain.

Negative emotions lurked in his eyes.

"... You survived as well."

Huh.

Was he talking to me? I was the only person he'd been making eye contact with, so apparently he was. But his voice sounded like he'd just chewed spinach three days past its expiration date. What an asshole.

"Yes, Your Highness."

I imitated the speech I'd heard in historical dramas.

"I have safely preserved my life."

"How fortunate."

"How could it be mere good fortune on the part of this humble servant? Your Highness's gracious favor has reached even here."

"..."

The crown prince's fine eyebrows shifted. I'd just slipped in a jab: [You staged this attack yourself, didn't you?] A guilty conscience needed no accuser. Even an ordinary greeting was bound to sting.

"You go too far. Do you mean to say that everything happening in this world bears my gracious favor? Your survival, and your protection of Sylvia from the assassins' murderous hands, were both your good fortune. You have my thanks."

Wow.

It sounded like he'd backed down and praised me, but listen closely and he hadn't. He was belittling me by attributing it to my 'luck,' not my 'skill.' Surely not. I'd like to think surely not, but was the crown prince trying to keep me in check?

"Lady Golden Silk Blossom is my mistress."

At that moment...

"And I belong to my lady."

My mouth was moving without my knowledge.

"Your Highness. How could a sword protecting its owner be called a matter of luck? A tool has merely fulfilled its purpose. Please withdraw your excessive praise."

I was bewildered. Really, truly, I'd intended to mumble something noncommittal and back down. What good could come of a household butler fighting a nation's crown prince? Yet my tongue kept flapping away.

'Huh? Have I finally gone insane?'

Just as my head began to grow a little hazy, I heard a voice.

[Your immersion in the character deepens.]

What?

[Your current immersion rate is 1%.]

What the fuck?

"... Truly, you are eloquent enough to make me want to sew your lips shut."

While I kept repeating what the fuck in my head, the crown prince's face twisted. Offense. Humiliation. His expression was that of someone holding back a curse.

I'd have liked to unleash a whole torrent of curses myself. Seeing his face crumple had made some corner of my heart feel strangely refreshed. Rather than thinking I ought to stop, my first reaction was that it served him right. Fuck. Fucking hell.

"It seems noble houses of a mere baron's rank now select servants for their tongues rather than their character. His Majesty would surely lament the state of the times if he knew."

Wait.

Hold on, you blond clump of instant noodles calling yourself this world's crown prince or whatever. Stop provoking me. Please, stop messing with [my] emotions. This...this stage...

"Surely not. Could there ever be a day when His Majesty's discerning gaze grows dim? With Your Highness grown so splendidly and cultivating virtue at this academy day by day, I humbly submit that His Majesty's heart must be filled with joy."

In other words, I was sneering that it'd be great if his dad found out he went around hiring assassins, but interpreting this shit wasn't important right now.

I'd realized the trap in this stage.

And I understood why the Paladin and the Count, the hunters who handled our Tower's public safety and economy, had been so helpless and failed to clear it.

'Those two seemed to get swallowed up by their personas as time went on!'

[Your immersion in the character deepens.]

No.

[Your current immersion rate is 2%.]

This is insane.

"Hmph. Enough. Merely engaging in a war of words with you demeans me. I shall thoroughly investigate the truth of what happened tonight."

"Is there anyone in this academy more trustworthy than Your Highness? I can only entreat you with all my heart. Please uncover whoever was behind the attack and make an example of them."

"Of course."

Ah.

So this was it!

This was the defining feature of this stage!

The crown prince shot me a glare as he spoke.

"Lady Sylvia seems to have been greatly startled by this unexpected incident. More of the attackers may yet be lying in wait. I shall protect her tonight. Understand that."

"Your Highness."

My tongue was evolving into an answering machine.

"Forgive this humble servant's impertinence. It is precisely at a time like this that one must recover from one's fatigue wherever one feels most at ease. My mistress will wish to remain in her own room, as usual."

"... Are you saying she would feel ill at ease by my side?"

"My apologies. I merely speak the truth to Your Highness."

Save me.

Somebody save me!

[Your immersion in the character deepens.]

[Your current immersion rate is 3%.]

Help me! Help me!

-Hey, you...what are you doing?

Sword Emperor! No, esteemed Sword Emperor!

-Huh? Has this fucker lost his mind?

I'm seriously about to lose it, so please do something!

-Uh...what do you want me to do?

I don't know. Just snap me out of it!

-Hmm. So it's really okay for me to say some seriously fucking harsh shit?

I don't care what you say, just bring me to my senses!

-Ah, in that case.

The attendant spirit grinned.

-Zombie. You seem to find Viper off-putting, but whenever you get the chance, you do the most cringeworthy shit, like you're the hero of Viper's fantasies...

Ah.

'That's enough. I've come to my senses. Don't even say the next word.'

-All right.

The attendant spirit's audacity in throwing Viper jokes at me jolted me wide awake. What a devious ghost. Sure, I'd said he could say anything, but he really was about to launch into a whole parade of bullshit. Thanks to him, though, my madly rising immersion rate came to an abrupt halt.

"..."

Meanwhile, the Inquisitor, his face buried against the crown prince's chest, wasn't quite himself either.

"...? Hm...?"

He tilted his head this way and that, then shook it. For the first time, I glimpsed an expression of 'bewilderment' on his face. The undisputed number-one lunatic. This pure, natural-born psycho couldn't understand the emotion he was feeling.

He stepped away.

Perhaps that was why he pushed against the crown prince's chest, freeing himself from his embrace. The crown prince, who'd been engaged in a staring contest with me, looked in confusion at Lady Golden Silk Blossom—no, the Inquisitor.

"Sylvia. What's come over you?"

"Hm? ... Hmmm? Oh?"

The Inquisitor tilted his head once more.

"How fascinating."

"What is fascinating, Sylvia?"

"For the first time in my life, I am experiencing an unfamiliar emotion."

The Inquisitor smiled softly.

"My heart is pounding!"

"..."

"It's racing wildly. Oho. Aha. I see! This truly is mysterious..."

He closed both eyes and pressed his hands to his chest. The Inquisitor—no, Lady Golden Silk Blossom—wore a small smile. It was as though he were listening to beautiful classical music.

"The owner of this body seems to like you very much!"

"S-Sylvia..."

The crown prince was overcome. His face looked as if he'd wolfed down a bowl of emotion steeped in a broth of rapture.

If I hadn't hurried to stop my immersion, I might have felt jealous right then. Fortunately—thank heavens—that didn't happen. Belatedly, I'd come back to my senses.

"My lady."

I put emphasis on the words my lady. The Inquisitor opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Let us return to the dormitory. His Highness the Crown Prince has personally pledged to uncover whoever was behind the attack. It is late, and you should return to your lodgings and rest comfortably. Tomorrow, you must resume your own life, mustn't you?"

We had not only our 'roles,' but also our 'purpose.'

The purpose of clearing the stage.

We couldn't forget that.

"Oh. Right. Of course."

The Inquisitor blinked. He'd immediately understood what I meant. Holding the hem of his skirt, he curtsied to the crown prince.

"Thank you for your consideration. However, I shall return to my lodgings with my attendant."

"Huh?"

"Have a good night, Your Highness. I shall take my leave!"

Leaving the crown prince staring blankly, the Inquisitor turned away without hesitation and walked lightly out of the storeroom.

Behind us, the crown prince cried, "Sylvia! S-Sylvia?" But the Inquisitor merely walked down the corridor, beaming. He didn't even turn his head.

"... Things have gotten difficult."

I drew close beside the Inquisitor and muttered.

"Immersion? I never expected a trap like this. Damn it."

I'd wondered why the Count and the Paladin had failed. Now I understood.

"Ahaha."

The Inquisitor gave an inscrutable smile. Click. Click. Our shoes rang through the corridor, where moonlight cast pale shadows. Human footsteps resembled the beating of a heart.

"This is certainly an unforeseen development. Death King, how high did your immersion rate rise just now?"

"It shot up to three percent like crazy. I barely stopped it."

"Remarkable. I reached ten percent immediately!"

I was speechless.

'Ten percent? 10%?'

I was stunned. Did he mean that merely spending a little time with the crown prince had infected a tenth of his identity?

The situation was more serious than I'd thought.

At this rate, even going about ordinary life was no different from walking through poisonous fog. A toxic mist that slowly poisoned you until, by the time you came to your senses, escape was already impossible.

If we lost our grip, this world's [romance] would swallow us whole in an instant.

"... This won't do."

I spoke slowly. Yes, I was tense.

Losing myself. The possibility that I might lose myself.

That had always frightened me more than anything.

"Let's establish a safeguard between us."

"A safeguard?"

"Yes."

I carefully stroked the hilt of my dagger. The blue tape's texture met my fingertips. That familiar sensation brought reassurance.

"Let's choose keywords. Whatever the situation, however serious it gets, saying them should help us come to our senses. For example, if I say [peach], you say [carrot]."

"Aha. A secret code just for the two of us!"

The Inquisitor smiled.

"I agree! I've seen something similar in a drama. Then what shall we use as our secret code..."

CLICK.

Just then, the sound of heels came from the other end of the corridor. They struck the floor precariously. A rush of dull footsteps followed. Someone was approaching with a host of servants.

The moon shone.

Sharp shoes trampled the moonlight cast across the corridor.

Hair as silver as that light. Lady Silver Lily.

The duke's daughter walked toward us, leading her retainers. Whatever had angered her so, the villainess's brow was furrowed. Her eyes glared at us.

"Ah."

The Inquisitor gave a short groan.

"Death King."

He rose onto the tips of his shoes to reach me, then parted his lips and whispered in my ear.

"... I seem to dislike that woman."

A soft whisper.

At first, his voice sounded just as it always did.

"..."

I slowly turned to look at the Inquisitor.

"Hmm."

He spun around. His long dress swirled, raising a little whirlwind. Air carrying his body's warmth pressed against my chest.

"I'm curious, Death King."

Coming to a quick stop, he spread both hands. Then he folded all his fingers except his index fingers, the only ones with bare skin exposed.

"Ah, I truly am curious."

Pushing up the corners of his mouth with both index fingers, he was smiling as he always did.

"What expression am I making right now?"

But his eyes weren't smiling.

[Your immersion in the character deepens.]

[Currently.]

[Your immersion rate is 4%.]