Looking at her collapsing powerlessly to the floor like a doll whose strings had snapped.
Startled, Heron hurriedly approached to support her, but Celine simply kept her head bowed without the slightest movement.
Like someone who had lost their soul from a massive shock.
Transparent tears finally dripped from her vacant eyes, wetting the cold corridor floor.
"S-Sis... Pull yourself together!"
'But keep this in mind. This is the last time.'
'What...?'
'It means once is enough for you to step up for me.'
...Why on earth?
'You didn't need to help me.'
The coldly spat words from his mouth felt like they were gutting her heart.
She knew it herself.
Because she knew she had inflicted countless wounds on him.
Even knowing it would be hard to go back to how things were before, she had done her best in her own way.
Because she believed he might recognize that much.
...Maybe, just maybe, things could return to those days.
So she resolved to muster her courage.
For the first time in her life, she stood against her father, the family head, and defended him—who was dismissed as a bastard child—in front of the house knights.
And that was Celine's greatest act of rebellion since birth.
An action utterly unthinkable for her usual self.
The stunned gazes everyone had fixed on her were still vivid in her memory.
She wanted to protect him that way, at least. The connection with her brother that she had barely regained.
But he had ruthlessly severed that connection. As if brushing off something annoying.
It was a cold rejection. A silent warning not to approach him anymore.
"Why... Why..."
Though she tried to hold it back, a small sob finally escaped her lips.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Master. You okay?"
"With what?"
"Don't play dumb. She was really crying."
"...I know."
Returning to my room, I collapsed onto the bed like someone who had exhausted all their energy.
Imir was chattering away beside me about something fascinating, but I didn't even have the strength to respond.
I didn't need to ask; the news from the wandering souls floating on the ceiling had already given me a clear view of the corridor situation.
— Wandering SoulKehehehehe! What a sight! What a sight! Watching the Dreadnote family dogs tear into each other is pure delight!— Wandering SoulCrying her eyes out like some wench! Kihehehehe!
"...Shut up. Before I rip you apart."
As I muttered in a sunken tone, the wandering souls—who had been noisily flapping their mouths nonstop—fell silent all at once.
Whether they sensed the ominous atmosphere or just obeyed the order to shut up, I couldn't tell.
"D-Did I say that much?"
I ignored Imir's flustered babbling. My mouth tasted bitter.
The image of Lynn trembling her eyebrows like a wounded fox lingered before my eyes.
It was a decision I'd made with grim resolve, but it still didn't feel good.
'It was something I ultimately had to do.'
I had no regrets about my actions. Not a single one.
This was for the best. For me, and for her too.
...Yeah. So it wasn't wrong.
Especially since my existence, living Evan's life in this world, was like a time bomb that could explode at any moment.
If Lynn kept getting entangled with me, she might get dragged into unknown dangers because of it.
Above all, the fact that she was the original heroine amplified that risk.
The protagonist and heroine. They were the centers of this world.
A mere villain like me approaching that center required caution.
No one knew what consequences it might bring.
So I had to avoid getting close to that center as much as possible.
'I was trying to grow stronger to increase my survival chances.'
With the power of the Black King now, I had little worry about threats in the academy at least.
Still, wasn't it wise to beware of even the slightest variable?
No matter if this was the world of The Glory, it wasn't a game where you respawned after death.
So this was fine.
It hurt her now, but in the long run, this protected her too.
'...No matter how I rationalize it, my survival comes first.'
I shook my head with a wry smile.
In the end, it was all calculations for my own survival.
If someone got hurt in the process, that was unavoidable.
"Master."
"What."
"Gonna sleep already?"
"...Yeah."
I buried my head in the pillow and slowly closed my eyes.
Exhaustion weighed down my entire body.
As my consciousness gradually blurred before fully shutting down.
I felt like Imir beside me was gently stroking my hair, but.
It must have been a dream.
Shortly after the series of events that had shaken the Dreadnote estate.
Time passed quickly, and several months had already flown by.
The mansion was cloaked in a silence like ruins after a storm had ravaged it.
Fortunately, Lynn's words seemed to have had an effect.
The count, fully recovered from his injuries, acted as if I had never existed in the first place and no longer sought me out.
He must have decided to simply ignore the guy who would vanish anyway.
Heron and I had never been close to begin with, so nothing much changed there.
As for Lynn... after that incident, she no longer approached me.
More accurately, she couldn't.
"Ah..."
Whenever we crossed paths by chance, her eyebrows would tremble,
but I would turn away, avoiding her as she tried to open her mouth.
— TundraI never imagined I'd feel this way, but how pitiful.— TundraRight? A real demon. No blood, no tears, that's for sure.
"Shut up, Tundra."
— TundraYes, sir! Forgive me! Please, no more torture!
Thanks to that, I could spend the remaining time undisturbed, entirely to myself.
Whoosh!
The now-familiar dawn training ground.
The sword strike swung toward the shadow figure sharply cleaved the air.
"That's it? Master? Your skills seem worse than before. So slow, not even worth a yawn!"
She read the sword's trajectory and leaned back to dodge,
then sprang up with elastic motion, swinging her massive claymore as she shouted.
"Talking like that after barely dodging?"
In this place where no knight could last even one exchange against me now.
She alone was the only sparring partner who could go toe-to-toe for dozens of bouts over the past few months in this mansion.
Clang!
"Your strength is still monstrous as ever."
"I get that compliment a lot!"
Our swords clashed, sparks flying.
Instead of meeting her brute force head-on, I twisted my blade to deflect the power.
Swoosh.
"Up to here."
Using the deflected force against her, I exploited the opening,
and my sword tip halted right before her throat, a beat faster than her belated reaction.
"...Damn. Lost again."
Thud!
Imir pouted in frustration but obediently lowered her claymore.
The result of these spars was always the same.
Her face, now accustomed to it, showed more resignation than the bitterness of defeat.
"Good work."
"You too, Master. But, Master."
"What?"
"When do I get to win?"
A very Imir-like question, wondering when I'd let her win for once.
As I sheathed my sword, I gruffly replied.
"Maybe your next life."
"You jerk...!"
"Don't be like that. Your skills have improved, at least."
"True, but it's frustrating. I've never lost before."
Grumbling curses, she fetched the towel and water bottle from the corner of the training ground.
Months of training and instruction had turned her into a fairly competent maid and excellent sparring partner.
Of course, her actual maid skills were still near failing.
"Here."
I wiped my sweat with the towel she handed me and glanced toward the main building.
The morning mist was clearing, and the dawn sunlight was gradually gilding the mansion's spires.
"..."
The days left to see this tiresome sight were few now.
"Master."
"What."
"You're heading to that academy place soon, right?"
"Yeah. Less than a week left."
Thud!
"Just checking."
In response, Imir slammed her claymore into the ground and rested her chin on it.
I waited quietly, as she was the type to blurt out whatever crossed her mind without filter.
When her usual question didn't come, I stopped wiping my sweat and turned to her.
For some reason, she looked slightly tense as she stared at me.
"...I'm coming too, right?"
...?
Why ask something so obvious now?
Of course you are.
"Were you thinking of not coming?"
"...Heh. Good."
Those words seemed to reassure her.
She smiled brightly like a child.
Occasionally envying that simplicity,
I gazed at her briefly before turning back to the main building.
'It's really ending now.'
My time in the Dreadnote family.
For the original Evan, it must have been hellish. For me, it was a foundation for survival.
Not by design, but I'd gained the power of the Black King,
acquired the powerful card that was Imir, and grown my existing authority.
'I'm ready.'
All that remained was to face events firsthand.
...Come to think of it, it was about time.
— TundraMy lord. Someone is approaching.
Step. Step.
Hard boot steps echoed from the training ground entrance.
No one would come looking for me this early in the morning.
When Imir and I simultaneously turned that way.
"Awake at such an early hour. How diligent."
There stood a middle-aged man in a splendid uniform I'd never seen before.
On his chest gleamed the golden lion emblem symbolizing the royal family.
"Evan Dreadnote, I presume."
The man bowed politely with perfect posture.
"Royal courier, Marcus. With the entrance ceremony approaching, I have come to reconfirm the imperial decree regarding your academy enrollment."
"..."
Marcus drew a scroll made of fine parchment from his breast and handed it to me.
The contents were similar to what I'd received a year ago, but with some differences.
Specifically, the departure time and location of the royal carriage to the capital were detailed.
"Considering the journey to the capital, the academy has sent a carriage directly."
Departure in exactly three days.
"The carriage departs on schedule. Please prepare so as not to be late."
With his business done, the courier bowed once more and headed toward the main building, leaving the training ground in silence again.
I silently gazed down at the scroll in my hand.