Chapter 36 - 12

Chapter 12: 

Zanoba's Chosen Path 

Zanoba 

THERE WAS A TIME when I couldn't discern the difference between humans and dolls. The only difference was that one spoke while the other didn't. When I grew a little older, I was able to distinguish between them a little more, but they still felt the same to me. If you grabbed a human and swung them around a bit, their arm or their head would pop off, just like a wooden puppet. 

I loved dolls. All dolls. Yes, there were some that were better made than others, but I adored even the inferior ones. In fact, the only type of doll I didn't like were humans. Despite being exactly like dolls, all they did was complain and try to rob me of my freedoms. I hated them. 

It wasn't until I met my master that my view of them began to change. Even then, the shift was gradual. After he left, I headed for the Magic City of Sharia where the two of us reunited. At some point in the years after that, I stopped hating every single human. 

I suspect Julie was the catalyst for that. She was a slave we— Master, Lady Sylphie, and I, that is—picked out together, one whom we intended to teach to craft figurines. At first, she could neither speak nor take care of herself at all, making her a burden. 

But Master entrusted me with the task of looking after her. Though it was troublesome, it was no different from crafting a figurine; to craft one, you had to first whittle down a regular piece of wood until it took shape. Naturally, I resolved myself to be diligent with Julie's care and taught her everything one step at a time. 

At some point during that process, Julie stopped being a burden. It made sense: she listened obediently and absorbed the skills that Master taught her quickly. I watched as she gradually transformed into exactly the kind of human that I do like, so of course, I couldn't hate her. 

I didn't realize that until Ginger came into the picture, though. From my perspective, Ginger was someone who always found fault in everything, and never stayed quiet about it. She'd call the most banal and irrelevant things "important." For example, if we were talking about a tree, she would keep fussing about the state of its leaves or branches, and even though I'd argue with her that solid roots—or a solid foundation—was what made a healthy tree, she would never get the point I was trying to make. Honestly, she was a pain in the neck. 

It wasn't until we met again in Sharia that I stopped seeing her that way. She still complained incessantly, but somehow it didn't get under my skin. Why? Why had my feelings changed so much? 

I knew it had to be my master's influence. He would never have abandoned me for any reason. It didn't matter that I was clumsy, that all I had going for me was my physical strength, or that I would destroy a figurine as soon as I created it. It didn't matter to him that I lacked mana and that I couldn't live up to his expectations. Nor did he seem to resent me for all the desperate, wasted effort he'd poured into trying to teach me his secret figurine-crafting techniques. 

I had nearly given up on my dream. I was convinced I could never make figurines myself, that it was a skill reserved for gods alone. Master didn't throw in the towel. He tried all kinds of methods to teach me. He tried to find some way to include me in the process. I was grateful. Up to that point, not a single person in my life had ever truly looked at me as a person. 

Had it not been for Master, I probably never would have realized that Ginger also looked at me for me. 

Foolish as I was, it was only then that I finally understood the difference between humans and dolls. I knew it was important to make that distinction, but once again, being a fool, I didn't understand why. I only knew that it was. Master didn't spell it out for me. Instead, he led by example and helped me realize it myself. 

I owed Master for guiding me, and I respected him for it too. In fact, I was even proud of myself for having the foresight to recognize him as my master. 

Ever the buffoon, I unfortunately didn't understand some of my master's actions. Lady Nanahoshi—the girl known as Silent 

Sevenstar, Shizuka Nanahoshi—was one such example. She appeared to be studying summoning magic as a method of returning to her home. No one had ever elaborated on where exactly that home was, but I had no interest in knowing. Personally, I only had bad memories of my own home. I couldn't empathize at all with her intense desire to return to where she came from. From what I'd heard, Master's own memories of his home in Asura Kingdom were largely bitter. In spite of that, he devoted himself to helping Lady Nanahoshi. When she broke down, he dragged her to his own home and looked after her. When she was deathly sick, he traveled all the way to the Demon Continent to search for a way to heal her. 

I helped too, but only because it didn't bother me to do so. If Master was doing something and it meant helping him, I didn't have 

to think twice. But that didn't change the fact that I didn't understand why he was helping her. 

It was in the midst of all of this that something within me changed. At some point, I began developing some attachment to my own birthplace. There were some days when I'd find myself intensely nostalgic for Shirone's palace, in spite of how awful it had been. 

Nanahoshi was always talking about her home, so I could only assume that had rubbed off on me. That was likely why I immediately felt compelled to answer Pax's summons when I received the letter from him requesting aid. I did genuinely love my country and wanted to protect it if the need ever arose, so when it did, I felt like I had to go. 

I was wrong. 

When Master tried to persuade me to return home with him at Fort Karon, my heart wavered. I considered it. My days were so fulfilling and enjoyable back in Sharia, making figurines with Master, enough that I honestly considered abandoning my homeland for it. But I couldn't do it. It was like a wall went up, saying I couldn't go back. 

"Pax is my brother, so I want to save him." 

That was nothing more than an excuse I blurted out in the moment. It was a calculated move, since I knew it was the one thing that would surely convince him. Yet somehow, that answer also resonated with me. I didn't know why. I'd heard before that if you speak a lie, sometimes you end up believing it yourself. I thought at first maybe that was it, but no, it wasn't. 

It wasn't until after Pax jumped from the balcony and I saw his remains that I realized the truth. It brought a memory from the distant past back to the forefront of my mind. 

My elder brother, the second prince, had been hosting a party, and I was invited. I don't remember now what the party was for, but it was the type where attendance was mandatory. But I didn't remember if I had actually even attended or not. 

The one thing I did remember was that, by pure coincidence, the young Pax had been seated right beside me. This was before Lady Roxy began serving at the palace. Pax could not have been older than ten at the time. 

We didn't talk. We only sat beside each other. I sensed that he wanted to speak with me, but I couldn't be bothered to engage in small talk. I didn't even glance his way. And he never worked up the courage to speak to me. Even though he'd never said anything to me, in a way, I had ignored him. 

As I cradled his dead body in my arms, I couldn't help but think, Why didn't I say anything to him back then? Even a word or two. 

That dispelled any doubt I had. I finally understood. My own puzzling actions mirrored that of my master's. It made sense to me why he helped Lady Nanahoshi now—he'd likely seen her as a little sister. 

Why hadn't I realized it sooner? Master had two biological sisters, and the way he interacted with Lady Nanahoshi was nearly identical to how he treated the older of his two siblings. He kept a watchful eye on her, and if there was any trouble, he jumped in to help. He took care of her as tenderly as he did his real sisters. 

I had been asking so many questions of myself. Why did I help Master in the Demon Continent? Why did I find myself recalling my homeland afterward? Why, when Pax's letter arrived, did I shake off the opposition of all those around me and resolve myself to return home? In the wake of the battle at Fort Karon, why did I feel compelled to rescue Pax? Why did I blurt out that lie about wanting to save him because we were family? And finally, why did that lie resonate so much? 

I finally understood the answers. It all made sense to me. The puzzle pieces fell into place. 

But it was too late. That was my folly—realizing it all too late. 

Pax was dead. We weren't able to save him like we did Nanahoshi. 

Even so, there was still something left that I could do. 

Rudeus 

WE MADE IT BACK to Sharia. People often say things like, "Going 

is the easy part, it's coming back that's hard." That didn't really apply to us; we had a smooth return trip. I used my Magic Armor to draw our carriage back to the woods, where we had a teleportation circle prepared to take us back. Zanoba and I worked together to disassemble my armor, then hauled it back to the floating fortress. Roxy went on ahead while Zanoba and I stayed behind to pay our respects to Perugius. 

He said a curt "I see," when he first saw us, and we filled him in on what had happened. Afterward, he guided us to the room we'd last spoken in and offered his own words of wisdom: "It's foolish to let any country tie you down." 

Zanoba nodded earnestly and told Perugius he was abandoning his royal status, which left Perugius looking pleased. He even offered me some words of encouragement, saying, "You did well." Honestly, I was relieved that I hadn't lost a friend I enjoyed sipping tea with. 

We also stopped by to visit Nanahoshi, who reacted to our return with a drawn-out sigh. I could understand her exasperation; Zanoba coming back like this ruined any sentimentality she'd felt during her teary-eyed, heartfelt farewell. 

Anyway, Eris was due to deliver within the next month. The least I could do was be with her for the birth. The problem was that although I wanted to head straight home, I needed to do something else first. Namely, report to Orsted. 

The Man-God had really pulled the carpet out from under me this time. On the plus side, I had succeeded in my goal of bringing Zanoba home safely, and I hadn't died or been maimed. On the downside, we learned nothing about the Man-God's goals this time around, and we failed to keep Pax alive. Orsted had already told me that someone pivotal to his plans would be born in the Shirone Republic, which meant he'd lost a powerful piece on the board because of this. It was an utter defeat. 

Perhaps our return had been a bit premature. Maybe it would have been better to stay for a little longer and influence things so that Shirone would still wind up becoming a republic. 

Nah, if it was that easy to turn the nation into a republic, then Orsted wouldn't have ordered me to keep Pax alive. 

Regardless, it was probably best to be completely honest about how it all turned out. If there was a way to compensate for this setback, I would do so. 

"Okay, Roxy, I'm going to head to the office for a few. I'd like to stow the Magic Armor," I said. 

"All right. I'll head on home and let everyone know we're safe." 

The two of us parted at the entrance to the city, and I made my way toward the office. For some reason, Zanoba had decided to tag along with me. 

"Something wrong?" I asked him. 

"No, but that armor helped keep me alive, so I thought I would thank Orsted for lending it to me and apologize to him for having destroyed it during our journey." 

"Oh, okay." 

It was odd that Zanoba wanted to thank Orsted directly. I figured Orsted's curse would be potent enough to snuff out any positive emotions Zanoba had. Perhaps this sudden change was courtesy of Cliff's painstaking research. Maybe Zanoba might start throwing punches once he actually came face-to-face with Orsted, but as long as I held him back, everything would work out, surely. 

Feeling confident, the two of us walked together the rest of the way to the office. I stowed my Magic Armor, locked the door to the storage, and headed into the main building. We passed through the deserted lobby and made our way straight to the boss's office. 

I sucked in a deep breath before going inside. I was about to report that I'd failed, after all. Not like I hadn't failed numerous times before (I had) but this one was a considerably larger failure than the others. He might reprimand me for it. 

Maybe I'll be lucky and he won't be in today? 

Nah. It would be better to get it done and over with. 

Okay. Well, first thing's first…time to knock. 

Indeed, a courteous knock could put one in a good mood. I needed to keep mine calm and polite. I raised my fist and very lightly tapped it against the door. 

"Rudeus, hm?" echoed a voice on the other side. 

So much for the hope that he wouldn't be in. 

Despite my anxiety, I had already mapped out an explanation in my head. All I had to do was stick to the truth and be honest with him. 

"Pardon the intrusion! I, Rudeus Greyrat, have at last made my return from Shirone Kingdom!" I threw the door open, barged in, and bowed deeply. When I straightened up, a strangled cry escaped my throat. "Gah?!" 

Orsted was wearing a black, full-face helmet. I could only assume this new face—er, magical implement, I guess—had been newly crafted by Cliff. 

"Seems you have returned safe and sound," Orsted observed. 

"Uh, y-yes." 

His appearance had taken the wind out of my sails, but I carried on. I had resolved to give a most sincere, accurate report about my mission's failure. Yes, indeed. All I had to do was say, "Sir Orsted, I achieved absolutely, positively nothing!" 

Hold up, that doesn't seem right… 

"Allow me to give you my report," I said, and launched into a matter-of-fact overview of the events that transpired. I noted all the things I had been wary of, plus whatever signs I hadn't noticed at the time. As I spoke, I was careful to keep a level head and lay out every detail one by one, so it wouldn't be a problem if he wanted to be nitpicky. My report had a rhythm to it: first, I described an event, then what I felt about it, what I thought about it, who I consulted about it, what conclusions I drew and what actions I took. Then, I told him what the results were. I also included what I suspected the Man-God's motivations were, and how I thought best to proceed in relation to that. I didn't leave anything out. 

"I offer my most sincere apologies. I failed to fulfill my duty, thereby allowing Prince Pax's death." 

A suffocating gloom filled the air. I couldn't read his expression beneath the helmet, and that only made it several times more terrifying than usual. Frankly, I preferred him without the helmet. 

Actually, while we're on the subject, why is he wearing that thing anyway? Couldn't he just—I don't know—take it off for me? 

"The King Dragon Realm's King, Leonardo Kingdragon, is one of the Man-God's disciples. Most likely, General Jade of Shirone Kingdom is one as well. He manipulated the two of them in order to drive Pax into a corner, forcing him to commit suicide," Orsted said. 

So there were two disciples involved this time. The Man-God had used the King Dragon Realm's monarch to support Pax, which then instilled in Pax the idea that he had to live up to the king's expectations, lest he become a failure again. The king gifted him a queen and the Death God, which gave him every advantage. But at the height of it, the Man-God used Jade to orchestrate Pax's fall. 

That was my read of the situation, anyway. If the Man-God really could see the future, then he knew exactly which pieces on the board he had to move to coax Pax into taking his own life. Who knew if my interpretation was correct, but it seemed the most direct conclusion to draw. 

"So who was the last disciple, then?" I asked. 

"Perhaps the king of the Bista Kingdom, although there's also a good possibility he didn't employ a third." 

"Oh, come to think of it, the Death God did mention that Demon 

King Badigadi might have once been one of his disciples." 

There was a short pause before Orsted responded, "If he were a disciple this time, it wouldn't make sense for him not to show himself." 

True. Badigadi was the type who liked to be in the spotlight. 

As far as the Man-God was concerned, I was an irregularity. So it was likely he'd actively pick people I wasn't likely to have met. Alas, I had failed to figure him out this time. I felt pathetic. 

"We could still take Jade out, if you want?" I offered. 

"It's too late." Orsted's voice betrayed no emotion. 

"Um… I really am very sorry about this." 

"I made an incorrect prediction from the start. After I disposed of Leonardo, I should have gone to Shirone Kingdom personally, rather than leaving everything up to you. That was my mistake. However…" His voice trailed off. It didn't seem like he was going to comfort me and tell me not to worry about it. Apparently my failure in this was rather far-reaching. 

"Um, isn't there anyone else who could serve as a replacement for Pax?" I asked. 

"No." 

"There's really no other option?" He didn't respond. 

Was the Shirone Republic really that important to his plans? I had tried pushing him to consider another path, but he'd dismissed me twice. Now what? How was I supposed to salvage this? 

"Sir Orsted, would you mind if I spoke?" 

A voice broke in from behind me. I glanced backwards and found Zanoba standing there. How long had he been there? Err, from the beginning, I guess, right? He hadn't spoken the whole time, so I figured he was waiting outside. 

"Zanoba Shirone, hm?" Orsted murmured as though he hadn't noticed Zanoba until now either. 

No, there's no "as though"—I think he really didn't notice him until now. He probably couldn't see anything in front of him with that helmet on. In fact, the realization just hit me that he was finally able to speak with that thing on. That had to mean he could actually breathe with it, unlike before. 

"Firstly, allow me to extend my heartfelt gratitude to you for lending me armor to use during our foray to my homeland. It was unfortunately destroyed in the process, but happily, it preserved my life." Zanoba took a step forward and bowed. 

I still couldn't read Orsted's expression beneath the helmet, but that helmet probably helped mitigate whatever menacing aura he would have otherwise given off. Right. I guess that's probably why he's wearing it. He had probably sensed Zanoba's approach and put it on for that very reason. 

"If you wish to thank anyone, it should be Rudeus. Is that all you wish to say?" 

"No, it isn't." 

Strange. A moment ago, I was under the impression that was his only intention in speaking to Orsted, but now he advanced a step, as if trying to exude his own intimidating air. 

"Judging by your conversation with Master just now, I take it that Pax was caught in the middle of your battle with this enemy? Is that interpretation correct?" 

Uh-oh. Did he think that this was all Orsted's doing? If so, perhaps it would be better to stop him now? 

"It sounded to me as though you were the one trying to save my younger brother, though. Is that correct?" Zanoba went on. 

"I wasn't particularly trying to save him, no. What I wanted was a person who would be born in the country your brother would build." 

Confused, Zanoba echoed, "The country he would build? And you wanted someone who would be born there?" 

Orsted was being more cryptic than usual. Honestly, I wanted to know more about all of this too. Without all the information, it would be impossible for us to rectify the situation. 

"Sir Orsted," I cut in, "if at all possible, I think we would appreciate a more detailed explanation, please." 

Orsted didn't respond immediately. Silence dominated the room, only broken when I heard him suck in a deep breath from inside his helmet. Under any other circumstances, that might have eased some of the tension in the room, but I sensed anger in the way he gulped in the air. My anxiety ratcheted up. 

"After becoming king, Pax Shirone would have created a republic," he explained. 

He'd told me that part before. What I wanted to know was what happened after that. 

"After Shirone became a republic, a man who had once been a slaver would rise to prominence. A man by the name of Bolt Macedonius. Pax would have appointed this man to an important position." 

Huh. So the key person we needed here was Bolt Macedonius then. 

"Bolt Macedonius would go on to be an authority in the Republic and put down roots there." 

"So what role does he play?" I asked. 

"Bolt himself plays no role in my plans. But one of his descendants gives birth to the Demon God Laplace." Laplace? So that's where he came in, huh? 

"Now that Pax is dead," Orsted explained, "I have no idea where 

Laplace will be born." 

In other words, Shirone becoming a republic was a precursor to Laplace's rebirth. 

"In that case, we could still make Shirone into a republic. Or we could at least make sure that Bolt Macedonius meets the partner he's supposed to, so that he can marry and have kids," I proposed. 

"It's pointless. Do you truly think I haven't tried that before?" 

No doubt Orsted had tried all sorts of things in the long loops he'd been stuck in. Apparently Laplace's rebirth was a really unpredictable wild card, which was why Orsted had hoped to pin it down, making it easier to locate him. I suspected the Shirone Republic wasn't the only domino required for this part of Orsted's plan. He'd probably been orchestrating things for a hundred years just to make sure Laplace was reborn there. Perhaps some of my other missions had played a hand in that. But with one element gone awry, the entire house of cards had collapsed. 

"Reaching the Man-God requires that I first kill Laplace," Orsted explained. "After he reincarnates, he'll spend a little while lying low before gathering his comrades and starting a war. At that point it would require significant effort and mana to dispose of him and his followers, and then I'll have to face the Man God immediately afterward." 

"Um, so there's no option to defeat Laplace, take some time to recover your mana, and then face off with him?" I asked for clarification. 

"Laplace's reincarnation is largely set in stone. It always happens near the end of a loop. I have attempted to usher in his rebirth sooner, but to no avail." Orsted let out a breathy sigh. "Going through a war like that means I won't be able to reach the Man-God. 

This loop is a failure." 

A failure. The word echoed in my brain, bouncing around. The scumbag inside of me screamed back, Well then, why didn't you come to Shirone if it was so damn important? But I kept silent. He'd entrusted this mission to me, and I had failed. This had been a test to see how useful I was. 

I guess that means I'm done for then, huh? He's probably already fed up with me, isn't he? I assume that means he's going to give up on this loop. But if he does, where does that leave me? And what about my family? 

"It's a bit hasty to call it a failure at this point," Zanoba cut in cheerfully. 

Zanoba, did you actually comprehend everything he just said? I wondered if perhaps he was confused after all that talk of the future and what was to come. 

He said, "If a war is coming and we must take down Laplace and his followers, then that means we should start preparing forces of our own to combat them." "Oh?" Orsted said. 

"We don't have to put together an entire army, but surely, we could begin gathering comrades powerful enough to stand toe-totoe with Laplace." 

Ooh, Zanoba actually said something good there. His plan made sense, too. If the main issue was that all of this would sap Orsted of mana, then all we had to do was make it so that Orsted didn't have to fight. 

"I understand that your curse makes it hard to gather such comrades yourself, but you have my master to assist you. And I will aid you as well." Zanoba took a few more steps forward and then went down on one knee, lowering his head. "Though my proposal is based only on what I understood from our short conversation, I won't deny that it may be off-base." 

It sounded like a good idea, even if we didn't know if it would pan out or not. If, as Orsted claimed, Laplace's rebirth was fairly consistent in all loops, then we had about eighty years, give or take a few. In the interim, we could gather a group of strong allies—people like the Death God or Perugius—who we could then pit against Laplace when he returned. That would leave Orsted unscathed for the battle to follow. 

"I don't know the precise details of the situation," Zanoba continued, "but I have heard that the two of you have combined forces to battle this 'Man-God,' as you call him. This Man-God…" Zanoba paused and lifted his chin, staring directly up at Orsted. Then he slapped his hands against the ground. "He's the one who killed my younger brother!" He pressed his forehead to the floor, prostrating himself. At least he did it less violently than usual, maintaining some grace even as he kowtowed. "I beg of you, allow me to be one of your subordinates as well, Sir Orsted." Silence. 

"I want to avenge my brother!" 

Orsted's neck turned ever so slightly, as if he was glancing in my direction. I was pretty sure he couldn't see anything while wearing that helmet, but perhaps he wanted me to weigh in. 

"With Zanoba on our side, we could make better progress with the Magic Armor. I think the suggestion he made a moment ago was smart, too. This failure has admittedly increased our future workload, and even one more pair of helping hands would—" 

"Very well," Orsted interrupted, not bothering to let me finish. He nodded and rose to his feet, gazing (or at least it looked like he was) at Zanoba. "In that case, I would have you work under Rudeus and take orders from him. If you propose we make more allies, then that is what we shall do." 

"Yes, sir!" 

Orsted made his declaration without bothering to take off his helmet. Zanoba kept his forehead pinned to the floor the entire time. Just like that, I suddenly had a new co-worker and Orsted had a new subordinate. 

Pax was dead, and Shirone would not become a republic. These two facts had largely derailed Orsted's plan. We'd lost an enormous amount of progress. All because I hadn't made the correct decisions. 

On the flipside, we'd gained Zanoba as an ally. I had no idea what that meant for the larger picture, but at least my Magic Armor would see steady improvement with Zanoba on our side. 

I had to wonder if I was proving to be beneficial to Orsted or not. From what he'd told me, all my efforts till this point had given him considerable breathing room, but I felt like my failure this time had undone it all. Perhaps I was becoming less of a help and more of a hindrance. Would my efforts in the future ever be enough to compensate for this? 

No, they have to be. I need to make sure they are. Otherwise there would be no meaning in Orsted rescuing me from the ManGod's clutches. 

Besides, while Orsted might be able to casually abandon one loop for the next, I had only this single lifetime. It was a miracle that I got this do-over. I was unlikely to be lucky enough to get another. 

And even if I was granted another chance to live as Rudeus Greyrat all over again, I wanted to live the life I had right now to the fullest. I'd already burdened Orsted with this screw up. If I impeded him any further, he might start seeing me as a destructive interloper instead of simply a useless nitwit—not that that was much better— and cut me out completely. 

If I didn't suck it up and do a good job now, there wouldn't be a next time. Should Orsted decide I did more harm than good, then in the next loop, I might be used by the Man-God again and try to find a way back to the past, only for my younger self to be pitted against Orsted and killed. Assuming he didn't decide to kill me sooner, that is. He could snuff me out when I was still a child in Buena Village, or after I started working as Eris's home tutor, or even when we ventured back to Asura Kingdom after being teleported off to the Deon Continent. What he decided to do with me next time depended on what happened this time. 

Orsted was being kind to me now. I was sure there were a multitude of reasons for that, but it was probably a calculated move on his part. I couldn't forget that he was always contemplating his next loop, and that it was perfectly possible he was feeling me out to see what pleased me and what didn't. 

During this mission, I'd been too dependent upon him as usual. Somewhere inside of me, I'd convinced myself that as long as I obeyed his commands, he'd swoop in to rescue me if I got myself into a tight spot and needed help. That things would just magically work out. A part of me genuinely believed that. 

I couldn't keep leaning on Orsted like a crutch. I swore to myself that I wouldn't anymore. 

Chapter 13: 

It's All Right to Be Happy 

WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY, it was time to return to my family. Eris was close to giving birth so she might not be in the best mental state. She had times when she got depressed too, just like anyone else. 

I decided to have Zanoba stop by our house too. I wanted to entrust Julie into his care again. Not that she had outstayed her welcome, but I figured she'd be happier with him. 

Incidentally, Ginger was out scouting for a place they could live in—Zanoba had vacated his dorm room and it was no longer an option for them. Even if he decided not to go back to a dorm, though, wasn't there some way he could resume his studies at the university? He was only a few months from graduation. It seemed a waste. Perhaps if we put in a request with Jenius, he could pull some strings for us. Honestly, I was pretty sure that many went into research upon graduation as members of the Magicians' Guild. 

"Well, Zanoba, I look forward to working with you," I said. 

"As do I, Master." 

At least Zanoba would stay with me from here on out. That was something to celebrate. Our research on the Magic Armor would proceed apace, and we didn't have to give up on selling those figurines either. Since Zanoba had lost his home here, I could always lend him money until he got back on his feet. Getting money involved usually led to unnecessary trouble, but I wouldn't hesitate if it was for Zanoba. 

We arrived at the house as I was lost in thought. Byt was tangled around the gatepost. Between him and the green roof, our house looked like an ecologically conscious one. 

As we approached, Byt opened the gate for us, as he always did. 

"I can only hope that Julie hasn't caused any unnecessary trouble for your family," Zanoba muttered. 

"I'm sure she did fine. She gets along well with Aisha and—" Fwish! 

As we entered the estate's grounds, the air whistled as something cut through it. I instantly knew what it was; I'd heard this same sound hundreds and thousands of times before. Someone was practicing with their sword. I could only assume Norn had come back to visit. 

Fwish! 

Huh. Weird. Norn's swings sounded more confident and sure than I'd ever heard before. I hadn't overseen her training for a while, but the sound of it hadn't been quite so sharp back when I was teaching her. It was more of a fwoom, and not a fwish, which signaled that the blade was moving straight and true. My own swings never made such a pleasant noise. 

Yeah. In fact, this sound kind of reminds me of Eris's— 

I turned my gaze in the direction of the noise, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing at first. 

A lone woman stood there, wielding the stone sword I'd made for her to practice her swings. Her hair was such a vibrant red it looked like someone had dumped a paint can over her head. And despite the weight of the weapon—given it was stone—she handled it with ease, using only one hand. 

Th-that's my pregnant wife! Eris! 

"Oh, Rudeus," she remarked upon noticing me. "Welcome home. You got back kind of late." 

"H-h-hold up just a s-second!" I squeaked, stuttering uncontrollably. "Eris! What are you doing?!" I raced over to her. 

You can't be doing this, okay? You're about to give birth. Yeah, yeah, I get you're strong enough to handle your sword with ease, but that thing is heavy! Flexing your stomach like that is… Wait a minute. Her stomach…? 

I glanced down at her abdomen and found it unexpectedly smooth and trim. 

Um… Where is my little baby? 

"Huh?" I blurted. Just to be sure, I tested my hand against her stomach. 

Ooh, amazing. She's got a six-pack, and her muscles are super tight. This is definitely not the kind of pregnant tummy I've seen before. 

"Uh?" 

What in the world was going on? Had her sinewy six-pack somehow compressed our baby like shrink wrap? Oh, god. 

No, stop it, I chided myself. This is no time to be panicking. Perhaps the baby had been pushed lower because of the six-pack. "Is it here instead?" 

"What do you think you're doing?!" Eris snapped, socking me in the face after I groped her bottom. 

I gazed up at her, having been knocked onto my own bottom. 

Eris had taken up a wide stance, crossing her arms over her chest. Her chin jutted out as she gazed down at me and finally said, "It's out now." 

"What's out?" The words left my mouth before I could think them through, even though the answer was already obvious. 

"The baby." 

"Whose baby?" 

"Mine, of course!" 

Eris…had given birth…to our baby. 

I pursed my lips as I digested this information and sat up straight, legs neatly folded beneath me. "Um, pardon me for asking, but approximately when did this event take place?" 

"Ten days ago! It was super late at night, but I got through it!" 

Ten days ago? What was I doing then? Oh, right. I was still in Shirone. I was probably in an inn with Roxy, and the two of us were probably— No, there was no need to recount that part. Basically, what this meant was… 

"I didn't…make it in time for the birth?" 

"Yeah. It would've been nice if you could've gotten back sooner, but it's too late now!" A cocky grin spread across her face, as if she was trying to rub it in my face that she was perfectly capable of doing it all by herself. 

Well now what? Should I prostrate myself? No, it wasn't like I'd done anything wrong. We'd known this was a possibility before I left. I still couldn't shake the guilt, though. 

While I was too perplexed to properly respond, Eris furrowed her brows. "Wh-what's with you? Aren't you happy?" 

No, that definitely wasn't the case. "I-I am happy, but I feel a little…conflicted." 

"Oh! Right. It was a boy, of course! His name is Arus, just like the historic human hero!" 

Was joy an appropriate emotion right now? I'd failed to fulfill the mission Orsted gave me. I'd let Zanoba's younger brother, Pax, die. We'd managed to scrape by without the whole thing coming undone, but I'd screwed up so much of what we'd wanted to accomplish. My son's birth was heartening news—if a bit sudden— but was I allowed to be happy about it, all things considered? 

"Master!" 

While I waffled back and forth over my emotions, the entrance flew open. A tiny figure with orange hair came darting out. She streaked right past me and launched herself at Zanoba, clinging to his thigh. 

"Ah, Julie! My dearest apprentice, I have returned home!" Zanoba reached down, slipping his hands beneath her arms and lifting her into the air. 

Tears streamed down Julie's cheeks. Her tiny fingers clutched at his sleeves. "I…I've been waiting patiently for your return this whole time, Master!" 

"I know," he said.  

It was a heartfelt reunion. In fact, Julie showed so much emotion at his return I almost started to question whether my family had been cruel to her while he was gone. 

The next words to come out of Julie's mouth were jaw-dropping. 

"You know, I…I love you from the bottom of my heart, Master!" 

"Oh, you do, do you? I never realized—" 

Before he could finish, she cut him off and kept babbling. "Please…don't ever leave me behind like this again! Please let me stay with you until your dying breath! I beg you. Please…!" she pleaded, voice heavy with sorrow. The way she spoke made it crystal clear how much she had worried. 

Zanoba stared back, initially dumbfounded, but his lips soon gave way to a gentle smile. "You needn't worry anymore," he said. "From now on, I'll be with you. Forever." 

"Master! Waah!" Her cry for him devolved into a fresh wave of tears. 

Zanoba pulled her close and pulled her head against his shoulder. He seemed quite happy with her reaction to his return. 

Oh, yeah, I realized. It's true that Pax died, my mission was a flop, and the Man-God seized victory from our hands this round. But we came back alive. Zanoba, Roxy, Ginger, and I are all healthy and whole. We didn't lose any of them. 

That, at least, was something to celebrate. It was all right to be happy. 

"Eris!" 

I wasn't about to fight the sudden flood of emotion that washed over me. I threw my arms around Eris and planted a kiss on her. She was shocked at first, but responded by returning my embrace and kissing me back. My hands slipped down her back, finding their way back to her butt. When I squeezed, she tightened her arms around me and deepened our kiss. Taking this as an invitation, I slipped a hand around to her chest and began groping. The next instant I found myself kissing not her lips but the ground after her fist smashed into my face again. 

"You went too far!" 

"Sorry!" 

She squeaked in surprise when I leaped to my feet again and lifted her, cradling her in my arms like a princess. I couldn't wait any longer. I wanted to see my baby's face ASAP. 

"So? Where's our boy? Where is he?" I asked eagerly. 

"In the house!" Strangely, Eris didn't try to fight her way out of my grasp. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pausing only once to point at the house in response to my question. 

"Hm…Master!" Zanoba bellowed. 

"Yes, Zanoba!" 

"I will respectfully take my leave for today! I shall see you again tomorrow! Be sure to convey my gratitude to Lady Roxy as well!" 

"You got it!" 

After that brief exchange, Zanoba spun around and left. Apparently he didn't want to impose on our harmonious little family gathering. 

I raced straight into the house, through the front entrance and into the living room where we found two girls seated on the sofa. One of them was cradling a baby in her arms. 

"Look, Miss Norn, look! He just smiled!" 

"Aisha! Come on, let me hold him!" 

"Aw, fine," Aisha grumbled back. "I guess you have held Lucie and Lara before. Oh, he's touching my breasts. I guess he must be hungry?" 

Norn shrugged. "Hard to say. We both know what his father is 

like." 

The two fourteen-year-old girls cradled my little man and fawned noisily over him. Hold up. My "little man"? That sounded like a euphemism for something dirty… 

"Okay, Eris, I'm going to put you down now," I announced. 

"'Kay." 

My sisters noticed us the moment I set my wife down. They glanced up at me, smiles on their faces. 

"Welcome home," said Norn. 

"Good to see you back," said Aisha. 

They were smiling. Both of them were really smiling. I had a sudden flashback to Pax's face, to the self-deprecating, resigned grin he wore before the end. 

"Miss Roxy told us what happened," Norn said. "About how rough it was for you guys." 

"Forget that. Here, take him," Aisha insisted. 

"Oh, yes. Right. Elder Brother, this is your baby, little Arus." After taking the little bundle into her arms, Norn quickly passed him off to me. 

I held him delicately and drank in his features. The little tuft of hair on his head was red, and his eyes were exactly like Eris's. This is my son… Perhaps it felt so surreal because I hadn't been present for the birth. Anxiety swelled in the pit of my stomach. My little boy gazed up at me, stretching his stubby little arms toward my chest. He patted his hands against me, like he was trying to grope at something soft, but sadly for him, my pecs were rock-hard. 

"Gwaaah! Aaaah!" He immediately broke into tears. 

All the tension in me faded, relief sweeping in to take its place. Yeah, there's no doubt in my mind now. This is definitely my kid— Paul's grandbaby. 

"Um, Arus? That's your daddy," Norn supplied. "He's not a stranger." 

"B-Big Brother, are you okay?" Aisha asked. Both she and Norn were eyeing me with worry. 

Only moments before, the two of them had been holding him, calling him cute, smiling as they did so. It was clear how much they loved him already. I knew that they loved me too, as family. 

Again, my mind drifted back to Pax. Zanoba had no children, but I figured some of his siblings probably did. Pax had murdered them all. Every single one. He couldn't love them. Chose not to. Wasn't loved himself, either. 

Oh, I realized. Maybe this was the kind of relationship that Zanoba wanted with Pax. 

My eyes heated, shimmering with tears. 

"Hey! Why are you crying?!" Eris demanded. 

"I don't know. I can't help it." 

"Fine, you leave me no choice, then," she said. "Give me the baby. I'll hold him, so quit your crying." 

"I don't wanna." I shook my head like a petulant child, continuing to cradle our baby as I sat on the sofa between Aisha and Norn. Tears kept trickling down my cheeks for a while. 

I wondered why I could not give Pax the recognition he so desired, even at the very end. I thought, at the time, that I understood how he felt. Warped though his reasons were, I should have been able to grasp his justification for being unable to love others. The environment he was in was so harsh that putting in effort seemed ridiculous. I should have realized that too. I should have seen that, in spite of the cards being stacked against him, he'd clawed his way to the throne. I could have given him recognition for his hard work. That kind of recognition had the power to change people's attitudes. Sure, maybe I wouldn't have forgiven him immediately for all he'd put Lilia and Aisha through, but I should have been able to do something to dissuade him from taking his own life. 

Someone must have heard my sobs because footsteps came echoing down the stairs. After a few moments, Sylphie and Lucie popped their heads in. Roxy followed close behind, holding Lara in her arms. Lilia and Zenith, who'd likely been in the kitchen, came through the doorway as well. 

Sylphie had probably heard what happened from Roxy. She saw me weeping and silently began stroking my head. Lucie decided to mimic her mother, climbing into my lap before reaching out her little fingers to pat me on the head. 

"Honestly, you're such a crybaby," Eris said even as she joined in with the head patting. Every single one of them was being so kind. 

"Aisha… Norn…" I muttered, as the tears kept falling. "No matter what happens, I'll always support you. If you're ever in trouble, don't think twice about turning to me for help. You might think I'm not very dependable, but I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to help." 

The two traded glances. Judging by the looks on their faces, they seemed to be thinking, If anything, we're troubled right now because you won't stop bawling. 

I had to pull myself together. If I kept this up, they really wouldn't turn to me for help when the need arose. 

"Okay," Aisha said, "got it." 

"Yes, we'll be sure to heed what you said," Norn agreed. 

They nodded in unison. 

Good. It looks like there's no problems with our family, then. 

I sniffled as I glanced at Roxy and Lara. Nestled in her mother's arms, Lara looked as impudent as ever. 

It was fortunate that my life hadn't been in serious danger this time. Although, it might have been a different story if Roxy hadn't been there. Roxy was so dependable! No matter how hard I tried, I was always weak. Without her at my side, I could easily have faltered partway through our journey. I had Lara to thank for throwing a fit and coaxing Roxy to tag along. No amount of gratitude toward the two of them would ever be enough. 

"Roxy…you were amazing on this trip," I said. 

"You were too, Rudy." 

Our journey was over. It had been a rough ride. I'd found myself doubting things I shouldn't have, and it had taken a serious toll on me mentally. All I had to show for my efforts was failure and lingering trauma. I'd let Pax die. The whole thing felt like a nightmare, but it was over now. Tomorrow would surely bring new things. 

Before it did, there were some things we needed to talk about. 

"Everyone," I said, "I want you to listen closely to what I am about to say." 

That day, I told my family everything about the Man-God. About him, about Orsted, about the war raging between the two of them, and everything that had happened to me in the past. I mentioned that Lara might be a savior in the future and even explained why I was cooperating with Orsted. I shared every detail. And once I said my piece, I asked them for their support. When the time finally came, I wanted them to stand up for me—and by extension, Orsted. 

Every single one of them nodded. Every single one of them— Eris, Sylphie, Roxy, Lilia, and of course Norn and Aisha, too—were dumbstruck by this sudden flood of information. Lucie in particular didn't seem to really understand what was being said. But they all wore earnest expressions and bobbed their heads. 

It was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. 

*** 

Okay, let's review the steps required to defeat the Man-God. 

In order to reach him, we needed five hidden treasures passed down by the Dragonfolk, treasures that were originally created by their distant ancestors. Each of the Five Dragon Generals possessed one, and by using the Dragon God's secret art, the door to the world could be opened. 

My future self had despaired upon realizing that he wouldn't be able to get his hands on the last treasure. I suspected Laplace was the one who held this final piece. Judging by what Orsted said about needing to kill him, I surmised that we would need to defeat each general to obtain their treasure. The Maniacal Dragon King Chaos was already dead, likely done in by Orsted, which meant we already had the item he held. 

Therefore, only four Dragon Generals remained: Holy Dragon 

Emperor Shirad, Abyssal Dragon King Maxwell, Armored Dragon King 

Perugius, and Demonic Dragon King Laplace. It was possible that Shirad and Maxwell were also already dead; Orsted wouldn't share that information with me. Perhaps because he was concerned about me—not wanting me to know of his actions when they could be construed as killing his own kind—or perhaps he actually felt guilty about what he'd done. Especially since he didn't seem to be on particularly bad terms with Perugius. 

In any case, Laplace's rebirth was an absolutely essential part of this plan. He would eventually come back, reborn as a child. Orsted's objective had been to pin down exactly where he'd be born; it would be easier to strangle him in the cradle. 

Unfortunately, we had failed to accomplish that this time. We no longer knew the location of Laplace's return, only that he would again launch himself into a war against the humans. Orsted needed to navigate that conflict and take his life. It seemed as though getting that last treasure would prove to be quite the trial, even for Orsted. Enough that it would leave him severely weakened going into his fight with the Man-God afterward. 

Orsted had thus declared this loop to be a bust. Yet I felt that he hadn't entirely resigned himself to failure. Discouraged by this setback, definitely, but he hadn't given up. In fact, the more I thought about it, it was almost as if he'd predicted this outcome. 

Take the situation with Ariel, for example. Orsted said that Asura Kingdom would face a great crisis a hundred years from now, but that it could be averted if Ariel became king. He also mentioned something about someone useful being born into Asura Kingdom afterward—I wasn't clear on the details of that—but I suspected he wanted stability in Asura Kingdom for the war against Laplace. Asura Kingdom was chief amongst the world powers. If they could put up a good resistance and wear Laplace down, Orsted would have an easier time finishing him off. 

It was also possible that Orsted may have suspected that his rebirth would be different in this loop from the moment he learned about me. There was plenty of reason to believe that the mere fact of my existence threw a wrench into the usual flow of events that led to his rebirth in Shirone. 

I did find it somewhat odd that the Man-God had messed around with Laplace's return to begin with, but my doubts were quickly dispelled. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that while the Man-God's precognition couldn't account for Orsted's movements, he already saw Dragon Gods as enemies. If anyone had been waving the anti-Man-God flag for centuries, it had to be Laplace. He probably suspected Orsted would revive Laplace to try something with him. Somewhere in Orsted's loop, which spanned several hundred years, there must have been a moment where the Man-God realized what he might be up to, which led to him proactively obstructing Orsted's efforts. That would make sense. Anything the Dragon God tried to accomplish would only be to the Man-God's detriment, after all. 

In any case, this iteration of the world was headed down a different path than the one Orsted knew from his many, many loops. My days of obediently doing Orsted's bidding and trying to set dominos in motion for him were over. If his plans were already completely derailed, there was no point in continuing to pursue them. 

Laplace was going to reincarnate. There was going to be a war. If we didn't take Laplace down, we wouldn't be able to reach the ManGod. And it would be pointless if Orsted needed to spend the bulk of his power doing so. There was no way he could defeat the Man-God in such a depleted state. 

This was where Zanoba's proposal came in. We needed to gather allies. Working separately from Orsted, we could freely seek out powerful companions to build our forces. We had about eighty to a hundred years until the war. That was time enough to set up an anti-Man-God faction and bring in allies to support Orsted—or lay the groundwork for such a group at the very least. Orsted would have his own troops by the time we were through. 

In all likelihood, I wouldn't live long enough to see the war. I wouldn't be able to take part in person. But I could still leave behind those companions and the organization we built together, trusting they would carry on my will. I was sure Orsted would go on to beat the Man-God for me as well. 

This would be my goal for the rest of my days.  

Extra Chapter: 

The Death God and the Gluttonous Prince 

MANY ROYALS RESIDED in the King Dragon Realm's royal villa. They were not, however, specifically King Dragon Realm royalty: these were princes and princesses from vassal states. Officially, they were studying here or had been brought in as foster children, but in truth, they were essentially hostages held to ensure said vassal states didn't rebel. This system resembled that of the daimyo shonin seido employed in feudal Japan to ensure followers remained loyal. 

At any rate, these princes and princesses weren't very conscious of their position as hostages. As long as their home countries stayed compliant, their safety and continued stay were guaranteed, allowing them to live in leisure. Not all of them were so carefree, however. An ambitious few spent that time improving themselves and keeping a sharp eye out for any opportunity to climb the social ladder. 

Pax was one such person. He had a sudden change of heart one day and threw himself into studying sword fighting, magic, and academia. He would exercise as much as he could in the morning, leaving the latter half of the day for magic and books. Pax swore he would keep up this daily regiment, but such a drastic change in schedule couldn't stay consistent for long. Lately, he'd started dedicating his hours in the morning to a wholly different pursuit. Namely, he started visiting the gardens close to the royal villa. 

"That's when I told him—'Unhand that slave! I'll be the one purchasing him.'" As Pax practiced with his wooden sword, he regaled a nearby girl with a tale. "A scuffle ensued after that. Thugs came charging at me and cut each man down, one by one! Their big boss was the last one to approach me. He had a battle axe at least twice my size. He let out a roar so intimidating even the most hardened warrior would shake in his boots, and then he lunged at me! I skillfully evaded his attack and unleashed my most powerful magic on him, hitting him right in the face! The man stumbled a few steps, and without missing a beat, I was immediately on him with my blade. Slash! And down he went!" 

Pax made exaggerated gestures with his blade, even employing magic as he illustrated his fight in real time. Once his story drew to a close, he paused to glance at the girl. Her eyes were vacant, giving him no indication whatsoever of what she was thinking. But for some reason, Pax was able to read her expression. He hadn't been able to at first, but over time he'd begun to notice the tiniest changes on her face. Right now, her eyes shone more brightly than usual and her cheeks had colored. She looked as though she was genuinely enjoying his story. 

Sweat dripped down Pax's brow. He remained quiet, frozen in the pose he'd struck at the end of his story, signifying he'd laid his enemy low. But after a few moments, he resigned himself and straightened up. 

"Well, such a turnout would have been ideal, but nothing ever goes as perfectly as you picture in your head," he admitted. "All I did was provide backup to my bodyguards with my wind magic." The girl looked no less impressed than before. 

"But still, my lord, you became the leader of the slums," she said. 

"Indeed. Regardless of how it happened, that much is certainly true—having defeated their leader, I now rule over the slums." 

"Amazing." 

Pax grinned. "Isn't it?! I may have had a slight case of cold feet during all the commotion, but that doesn't change the fact that I consolidated Shirone's ruffians! Go on, I will permit you to shower me with even more praise!" 

"Amazing. Truly amazing." 

Benedikte was the sixteenth princess of the King Dragon Realm. Her expressions were muted, giving little indication of her emotion, and her tone was flat with little inflection. Yet the way she eagerly listened made it clear how excited she was about his story. 

To be frank, Pax had dramatized his story more than a little. In a desperate bid to retain some dignity, he slipped in the part about him using magic to support his bodyguards, but the truth was he hadn't even done that much. It pained him to fib like this, but not a single soul in the realm listened to his stories as earnestly. It was only natural to get a little carried away. 

"Tell me…more," Benedikte muttered. 

In all honesty, the truth didn't matter to her. Since her family had largely given up on her education, she couldn't read, and no one else spoke to her like Pax did. She was locked away in the cramped confines of the royal villa; anywhere she went, they treated her like an eyesore. She woke in the morning, ate her food, and then wandered off to find a deserted place to waste away the time until her next meal. Then bedtime would come, and she'd start the whole 

dull routine again the next day. Amid all of this exhausting monotony, Pax's exciting tales were like a breath of fresh air. She enjoyed it. 

"More," she repeated. "Tell me…" 

"Very well then. Next, I suppose, I can regale you with the tale of when I visited Spring of the Faeries. Or at least, I'd like to, but we'll save that for tomorrow. This afternoon I have my studies and magic practice to attend to." 

"…Okay." 

"Wahahaha, such an admirable listener. But you needn't frown so! All you need to do is wait. Tomorrow will come whether you will it to or not!" 

Anyone observing Pax these days would agree he was a diligent worker. Once he finished his morning training, he would dedicate his afternoon to his studies and magic practice. Admittedly he did slack off quite frequently in the mornings, yes. But he practiced his sword swings dutifully even as he shared his stories with Benedikte, so he was gradually honing his skills. 

As for his normal education, he no longer had the luxury of a private tutor since he was abandoned by Shirone. He was left to continue his studies on his own based on what he remembered learning. His persistent efforts had slowly improved his reputation at the villa. 

"But before any of that, we must eat! It's time to return to the villa!" Pax announced. 

"…I'll see you off." 

"Wahahaha! There's no need for that. No need at all." 

Pax parted ways with her and headed for his room. The gardens were located at the edge of the estate, meaning that Benedikte's room was close, but Pax's was quite far away. Benedikte was always reluctant to part with him, so she would walk with him partway. Despite the way people treated her, she was still the princess of a large nation, and one who actively tried to spend more time with him. That was enough to put Pax in high spirits, which inevitably led to him rambling. 

"During my magic studies yesterday, I came upon a realization. It was nothing more than a thought, but when I looked into it, I found out my assumptions were correct. Which means that, from time immemorial, magic has been…" 

From the outside, Benedikte looked like she was disinterested and spacing out. Her eyes, by comparison, were filled with curiosity and interest as she listened to him speak. The maids who served the royal villa—and the occasional aristocratic guest—would give them cold, disapproving looks. 

"Would you look at that? The worthless worm from Shirone is clinging to the deadbeat princess," one of the nobles scoffed in passing. 

Pax froze. He felt the urge to turn around and get a good look at this naysayer, but he stopped himself. Each time he heard remarks like that, it made him queasy—made the bile crawl up his throat. He wanted to whip around, curse the culprit and behead them for their insolence. But those hideous desires remained wishful thoughts. He knew better than anyone that he had no power here. 

"Just wait, you cur. You'll see," he muttered under his breath, seething. 

Benedikte's expression clouded. She hadn't received much education at all, but that didn't mean she couldn't think for herself. She understood her circumstances, and she knew that Pax was being denigrated for sticking close to her. 

"Your Highness," she said. "I'll…" 

"Enough! Don't say it, you'll only irritate me!" 

Pax, meanwhile, didn't see it the same way she did. He was used to being disparaged. He'd faced the same kind of talk all the time in Shirone. 

"Look at me," he insisted. "Look at my body, at these arms and legs. This is how I have looked since I was born. No matter what I do, people will always belittle me. I guarantee you this: they are not saying it because of you." 

He'd lost count of the times they'd had this conversation. Despite his reassurances, Benedikte grew despondent. She had never left the palace, so she didn't quite understand. She didn't see what was so different about his short, stumpy body or his stubby arms and legs. She couldn't imagine how much ridicule he suffered through because of that. 

In a way, they were both in the same boat. That was precisely what drew her to Pax. Despite his constant complaints about the odds stacked against him, he still pushed himself to fight them. 

"Hm?" Pax paused just as they crossed the boundary between the main palace and the neighboring villa. "What's the smell?" 

A pungent odor hung in the air, its origin unknown. It was deeply unpleasant, like someone was cremating a corpse. Yet there was also something almost fragrant about it, too, like someone was cooking. The more Pax breathed it in, the more it stirred his appetite. But he had to wonder: could something that stank this much be edible? His curiosity couldn't ignore the bizarre balance of this scent. 

"Seems to be coming from the parade grounds," he muttered. "I'm intrigued. Shall we check it out?" 

"But," Benedikte started to protest. 

"Hmph. Would anyone really reprimand you for wandering a little from the royal villa? If they wish to monitor your behavior to that extent, they ought to at least appoint one person to observe you. Now, let's go!" 

"Okay," Benedikte answered, sounding a little happy despite herself. 

*** 

There was a painting in Shirone Kingdom entitled Hell's Banquet. 

It depicted five morbidly obese nobles throwing a dinner party. Which wasn't so strange, but if one looked closely, they'd notice the nobles had a skeleton serving them. Three of the aristocrats seemed to be none the wiser, locked in cheerful conversation. One of them had noticed and wore a shocked look as he frantically turned to the person seated beside him. The last member of their group was collapsed on the table. It was unclear whether they were sleeping or dead. 

Pax didn't know much about this particular painting, but he did remember his older brother, Zanoba Shirone, standing in front of it and mumbling to himself as he studied the scene. Had the men there wanted to be a part of that banquet? If they hadn't, then why were they forced to sit there? And who was it that had prepared the food they were being served, anyway? Zanoba had been asking such questions aloud. Perhaps it was because of that encounter that Pax remembered the painting so well. 

Perhaps the painting was depicting a scene like the very one I'm seeing now, Pax thought. 

A makeshift outdoor kitchen had been set up on the edge of the parade grounds to teach new recruits how to cook. Five squires were at the nearby table. Each of them was deathly pale, their eyes wandering constantly to the kitchen. The pungent odor that emanated from there was the same one that Pax had caught earlier. The smell only grew worse as one got closer to the point that even Pax felt the urge to pinch his nose. 

Most intriguing of all, however, was the man who was working in the kitchen. He was a skeleton…or at least, his face greatly resembled one. He wore a chilling smile as he stood over an enormous pot, stirring the contents. 

"Heh heh heh," he snickered to himself. "Just a little longer and it'll be ready." 

The knights' expressions contorted into looks of despair, as if they genuinely thought their lives were forfeit—that there was no running from this. 

Perhaps the men in that painting had been in a similar type of situation. They were right about being unable to run. After all, the man concocting this macabre meal was someone Pax knew well. 

"Death God Randolph," he murmured. 

Randolph Marianne was indeed known as the Death God, fifth among the Seven Great Powers. He served directly under High General Shagall as a member of the Blackwyrm Knights. He had no subordinates of his own and always worked solo. He was the strongest knight in the realm and had pretty much secured the highest possible position for himself. Despite his towering station, he'd personally gathered the squires to serve them a meal. It was no wonder they couldn't run; Randolph had them literally and figuratively outmatched. 

Nonetheless, Pax couldn't help but wonder what all of this was about. "You men there, what is going on?" he asked. 

"And you are…?" 

"Seventh Prince of Shirone Kingdom, Pax." 

Despite being a foreigner, Pax was still royalty, putting him leagues above the men here. The men started to rise from their chairs to get on one knee. 

"No need," Pax interrupted them. "You are permitted to stay seated and speak as you are." 

They glanced between themselves before settling back down. Slowly, they began to explain the situation. 

"Well, you see, we made a rather…uh, fatal mistake during the 

drills." 

Three days ago, the King Dragon Realm had conducted largescale drills for their forces. These men were squires for High General Shagall Gargantis himself. While the drills had proceeded smoothly, these boys had screwed up spectacularly. They hadn't properly secured the saddle on Shagall's horse. Seconds before he made the command to charge, he took a humiliating fall into the dirt. Fortunately, the healers nearby tended to him immediately, which meant the rest of the drill went on without incident. That was the only reason they got off with a scolding instead of a more severe punishment. Shagall, meanwhile, was not spared the embarrassment of having his fall witnessed by every member of the royal family present to oversee the drills. 

It was little wonder the squires were so depressed. Their mistake had brought shame on the very man they so revered. If the circumstances had been different, they might have been fired on the spot. They had gotten off relatively scot-free. In their guilt, they pleaded with the High General for some kind of punishment, but he only smiled magnanimously and refused. At first, the squires had thought his reaction discomforting, but it wasn't until today that they learned the reason why. 

"Lord Randolph suddenly came to visit us today, saying he would cook for us." 

"And? What is the problem with that?" Pax questioned. 

"You mean you don't know?" 

Rumors were rampant among the knights. It was a curious thing. Why would one of the Seven Great Powers, the strongest knight in all of the realm, become a direct subordinate of the High General? Under ordinary circumstances, Randolph Marianne should have been granted his own region to rule over, with hundreds of men at his command. So why was it that he always worked alone? 

That was because High General Shagall had trained him to be an assassin from early on. Shagall was mixed-race, with elven and human blood, and his extended lifespan had seen him serve at the apex of the King Dragon Realm's military for many years. He had a bit of a crude side, but he was loyal to a fault and widely known for his honesty and integrity. No one spoke ill of him. 

But how could that even be possible? How could a man remain spotless while in charge of an enormous organization like the King Dragon Realm's military? Well, that was because he wasn't spotless. He had any man who earned his ire killed behind the scenes, using the very assassin he'd reared himself—Randolph. As proof of this, only a few short years after Randolph became widely known to the public, every single one of Shagall's political rivals were wiped out. Several among them died from illnesses of unknown origin or tragically passed after being caught in an "accident." 

"We're…going to be killed…because we humiliated His Excellency!" one of the men blurted, white as a sheet. 

The other four began violently trembling in their seats. 

"No… No! I don't wanna die!" 

"Your Highness, please save us. I…I have a girl I love back home. 

I haven't even gotten to tell her how I feel yet… I can't die like this…" 

"I at least wanted to meet my end on the battlefield. Now I'm going to be killed 'cause of a little screw-up during a practice drill? 

You gotta be kidding me…" 

"And to think my mom was so happy to see me become a squire…" 

While the squires lamented their fates, a creepy, chilling voice called over to them, "You lot sure are being awful rude. I heard you were down in the dumps after being scolded, so I decided to make you some of my delicious cuisine. That's all." 

Pax tensed and turned. The knight with the skeletal face wore a chilling smile as he hauled over the enormous pot. The smell was so putrid it almost seemed otherworldly. 

"Now then, dig in everyone. Delicious food is the best cure when you're feeling depressed," Death God Randolph said with a grin that almost seemed to declare his intent to rob them of their lives. 

"Urk." Pax gulped and retreated a step, too intimidated not to. 

His heel bumped against something. Someone tugged at his sleeve. 

He glanced over his shoulder and glimpsed an expressionless Benedikte pinching his clothes. Even though her face conveyed no emotion, he could read what she was thinking—Please save them. 

Why do I have to save these fools?! 

Were Pax not a changed man, he might have said that. But this plea came from a girl who'd listened to his heroic sagas daily. She was someone he wanted to impress. 

"Randolph," he said. 

"Yeees? What is it? Uh…who are you, by the way?" 

"My name is Pax Shirone, Seventh Prince of Shirone Kingdom. Since I was fortuitous enough to find my way here, I would like to partake in this repast of yours as well." "…Oh?" 

Personally, Pax didn't really intend to put that stuff in his mouth. He was a prince, after all. If this "food" was actually poison, he was certain Randolph would back down. 

"Yes! Yes, of course, Your Highness!" 

On the contrary, Randolph beamed in delight at his offer. 

"A-as you can clearly see, I am quite the gourmet," Pax said. 

"You'll regret it if you serve me a lackluster meal." 

"Ehehe," the man snickered. "I might not look it, but I used to run a restaurant myself, you see. I am quite confident in the flavor." "You do understand what I am saying, don't you?" Pax said. 

"Yes, I most certainly do understand." 

This man is out of his damn mind, Pax thought. 

If his poison killed Pax, the matter wouldn't be solely between the King Dragon Realm and Shirone Kingdom; there were royals here from a wide array of countries. A knight couldn't get away with senselessly murdering one of them. The other vassal states wouldn't stand for it. If the King Dragon Realm indiscriminately and randomly killed their hostages, then what was the point in keeping them? The other vassal states would rise in rebellion. 

In spite of this, Randolph looked perfectly composed. In fact, he seemed to be challenging Pax: If you think you can eat it, then eat it. We both know you're only saying you will. You won't actually do it. 

Or perhaps, Pax thought, having heard that I'm a prince of Shirone and having seen what I look like, he thinks no one will care one whit whether I live or die. Dammit! I don't care if he is one of the Seven Great Powers—he's looking down his nose at me! 

Pax couldn't afford to die here, yet he couldn't allow himself to be treated with such contempt. Besides, Benedikte was watching. He couldn't meekly back down simply because he knew the other party cared nothing for his welfare. 

"Fine! Move aside!" he roared. He shoved one of the squires aside and plunged himself down. "Go on, then! It isn't every day one gets the opportunity to sample the cooking of someone as famous as the Death God. My stomach has been rumbling since the moment I caught wind of your dish's fragrant scent!" 

Pax was being defiant now. If Randolph didn't think he would actually eat the food, then he would do exactly that. He'd guzzle it down, let the poison kill him, and thereby bring chaos to the entire realm. Obstinate as he was, he'd resolved himself to his fate—and everything else that came with it. 

"Oh? You're the first person that's ever said something like that to me." Randolph wore an eerie smile as he went about serving the food. It didn't take long before the piping hot dish was sitting right in front of Pax. 

It was a stew, with enormous chunks of veggies and meat, but the liquid itself was purple. That was…worrying. What could one possibly put into stew to make it turn that color? It didn't look the least bit appetizing, nor did it smell appetizing. The odor was so rank, it was hard to believe it came from something edible. Pax knew of nothing edible that smelled like this. His mind screamed, That's not food! 

"Urgh…" He had managed to grab his spoon, but his hand wouldn't move further. 

The squires who were present eyed him, their own faces deathly pale. Even Benedikte looked somewhat worried for him. 

Oh, screw it! 

Pax plucked up his courage, jammed the spoon into the gloppy concoction in front of him, scooped up a chunk of unidentifiable meat, and shoved it into his mouth. 

"Mmph!" 

He chewed, then swallowed. The squires gawked. Not a soul present honestly believed he would actually try the dish. Anyone could tell at a glance that it had to be poison. 

After gulping down the mouthful, Pax sat frozen solid for a few moments before he finally mumbled, "That was surprisingly good." "Huh?!" 

"It's seasoned in a style associated with the Demon Continent, so it likely won't appeal to people around here, but it's palatable to me," Pax said. 

Yes, it looked as bad as it smelled. Yet strangely, once you put it in your mouth, its rich fragrance tickled the nose, and the complex flavors of the vegetables lingered on the tongue. The meat was so tender as to instantly melt, filling the mouth with a delectable, savory flavor. 

It was a puzzling dish. He'd never had something remotely similar in Shirone. As he ate, he noticed a numbness on his tongue. That was likely poison. But more importantly, the look on Randolph's face when he ate it and complimented the flavor was truly a sight to behold. Pax could tell the Death God didn't genuinely think he'd eat it, much less praise it. 

Hah! Even if I die in agony moments from now, I can at least say I outplayed one of the Seven Great Powers. I'll be bragging about that from my seat in hell, Pax thought bitterly to himself as his tongue continued to tingle. 

There were still so many things he still wanted to do. But he'd never done anything in his life worth bragging about, so at least he had something he could be proud of with this one last act. That gave him some satisfaction. Without that as consolation, he might just fling the plate to the ground and start bawling. 

"I want seconds," Pax said, shoving his plate at Randolph. 

"Um, but, Your Highness, I made this for the squires—" 

"Do you truly believe these men can appreciate the quality of this stew?! I am having it all for myself!" 

"Your Highness," the squires gasped, moved by his merciful intercession. 

Pax thumped his fist against his chest and roared, "Enough! What are you gawking at? Do the Realm's squires make it a habit of staring at royalty as they eat? Or do you have some issue with me eating all of this cuisine for myself? Well, I shan't hear it! If you have any complaints, take them to your master, Shagall. Tell him that Shirone's prince robbed you of your chance to sample Randolph's food!" 

The squires bowed and hastily fled the scene, but their expressions were full of gratitude, which was something entirely foreign to Pax. 

"Hmph." 

Pax, of course, didn't care if they appreciated what he was doing. He assumed they thought him a gluttonous prince who, on a mere whim, deigned to eat this poison-filled food in their stead. 

When Pax glanced up, he noticed Benedikte had taken a seat beside him. Her expression was placid as ever, her eyes darting back and forth from the plate to Pax. 

"Benedikte, do you wish to eat this as well?" Pax asked. She nodded. 

"You understand, don't you? What this food is, I mean." Again, she nodded. 

Pax paused in thought, but almost immediately he remembered the cruel environment Benedikte found herself in. He was the only friend she had. She was always alone, spending her time in the gardens, staring at the flowers—the ostracized, solitary princess with whom no one bothered to interact. Every day was surely miserable for her. Even Pax wouldn't be able to withstand that kind of treatment in her place. 

With that in mind Pax could find no reason to stop her. Perhaps she'd decided to join him because he was her one and only friend, and if he was going to die, she figured she may as well too. 

Finally, Pax nodded. "All right, then, Randolph. Prepare a serving for her as well." 

"Yes, yes, of course! Ahh, what a fine day it is today." Randolph continued eerily smiling as he plated more of his bizarre stew for Benedikte. 

Benedikte gracefully took up her spoon and slowly began to dig in. Although she'd never been given instruction on etiquette, she held her utensil beautifully. She was probably mimicking what she'd seen others do.  

"…Delicious," Benedikte mumbled as she continued eating. 

"Indeed, it is." Pax resumed his dining as well. Being a voracious eater, he requested extra helpings several times until the pot was completely empty. "Hmph, what do you think of that, Death God Randolph? We finished your entire stew. It was delectable." 

"Yes, it is a great honor indeed to have you both polish off the entire pot." 

Pax narrowed his eyes. "And? When will it kick in?" 

"When will what kick in?" 

"Do you truly think I didn't notice? With that numb tingling on my tongue?" 

"Ooh! That. Yes, well, you should notice the effects any moment now," Randolph answered with a snicker. 

Any moment, huh? 

Pax leaned back, gazing up at the sky. How long had it been since he last dined outside? Perhaps it had been the first time ever for Benedikte. No matter how coldly a member of the royal family was treated by their kin, it didn't change how suffocating their life was. If anything, the ostracism meant the family was reluctant to let them outside at all, instead confining them to the walls of the palace. 

At least his last moments were beneath a sunny, blue sky, and he'd eaten a delicious meal before the end. There could be no more pleasant way to go. It was as if his very soul had been cleansed. 

"Feeling relaxed now, aren't you?" Randolph asked. "Sanshok seeds have a strong tranquilizing effect." 

"Sanshok?" Pax repeated, bewildered. 

"Yes. It's the best spice for calming one's emotions when they're depressed or irritated. I truly did want the squires to try it as well…" "So it's not poison?" 

"Poison?" Randolph blinked at him. "Oh, well, Sanshok seeds do have a poisonous color to them. Many people tend to avoid consuming it for that reason, yes. But you needn't worry. Not a single soul has perished from eating it. Hm? But you mentioned the tingling sensation on your tongue—does that mean you knew I had used 

Sanshok?" 

"N-no, I had a feeling you'd used something, but not quite that!" 

As Randolph tilted his head, the realization finally hit Pax—this man had truly only intended to treat those squires to a meal, nothing more. 

"Yes, I see, Sanshok!" Pax nodded to himself. "I was almost certain you'd taken the skin of a Kiban and added that to the stew." 

"Ohh, yes, Kiban skin does make the tongue tingle as well. But you see, Kiban skin can't give the stew that delectable purple hue, now can it?" 

Pax nodded thoughtfully. "True enough. Yes, your ingenuity was quite impressive!" 

"Heh heh, I appreciate you saying that. It was worth having that ingredient brought in all the way from the Demon Continent." The way Randolph smiled almost seemed to suggest he had completely seen through Pax's bravado. 

"Well, enough of this! Benedikte, let us be off!" Unable to withstand the man's penetrating gaze, Pax shot to his feet. "I have my studies and magic practice to attend to this afternoon. I have no time to dawdle here, engaging in small talk!" "All right," she mumbled. 

Pax straightened his shoulders and began to totter off with Benedikte close behind him. They didn't make it too far before Randolph called after them. 

"Um, Prince Pax?" 

"What is it?" Pax glanced over his shoulder. 

Randolph sported his usual creepy smile. Yet he seemed a bit anxious, rubbing his hands together as he worked up the courage to ask, "Would it be at all possible for me to serve you a meal again in the future?" 

"Very well. Your cooking is delicious, after all." Pax quickly delivered his answer and turned away to leave. Although he'd been unnecessarily anxious about the meal being poisoned, the stew itself was scrumptious. Those unusual flavors were unlikely to suit most people's palates, but Pax had never had anything like it. If Randolph was keen on serving him something like that again, he had no reason to refuse. He wasn't lying when he said he was a gourmet with finicky tastes. 

"Thank you," said Randolph, bowing his head low. 

After that, Pax began periodically eating Randolph's cooking. 

*** 

"In hindsight, I really had resigned myself to death back then," Pax mumbled, as he revisited the distant past in his head. 

He currently stood on a staircase landing. The nearby window gave him a glimpse of the world outside the castle. Fires dotted the landscape, smoke signals rising like pillars here and there. He heard no voices from here, but he could sense the crowds below. 

Pax was inside Shirone Castle, a place he'd arrived at after recklessly plunging ahead until he'd clawed his way onto the throne. 

"I would have preferred not to hear the truth until my dying days," Randolph replied, standing beside the king and gazing down at the world below. He'd removed his eyepatch, and the eye underneath emitted a glaring light. "I was really happy, you know? 

To hear you say my cooking was delicious." 

"Don't start that. It may not have looked appetizing, but I wasn't lying to you when I said it was good," Pax said. 

"Hehe, it's hard to believe you when I now know you thought I meant to poison you." 

Their voices swelled with emotion as they conversed, gazing through the glass. Inconsequential happenstance had brought them together, and even after their initial meeting, nothing particularly exciting or significant took place. All that happened was that each time Pax and Benedikte sampled Randolph's cooking, they praised its taste. They would chat a bit while he was concocting his odd dishes, but they'd go their separate ways once the meal was over. The cycle repeated numerous times until Randolph realized how often he was in Pax's company. It would be a stretch to call Pax his pupil or apprentice, but he did offer some advice on swordsmanship and magic. 

"In the end, you and Benedikte are my only allies," Pax said as he watched the people gathered outside. 

They knew not all of the people out there were enemies; a knight had risked his life to venture out and bring back a scouting report. Yes, not all of them were against him, but Pax knew that they weren't in support of him either. The vast majority of Shirone hadn't welcomed his ascension to the throne. They could be his enemies under the right circumstances, but they could never be his allies. 

"Why do people hate me so?" 

It had been that way his entire life. No one ever allied themselves with him. Perhaps his appearance repulsed them; perhaps he simply had no talent for finding comrades. Pax honestly had no clue. He had tried his best in his own way, but for all his efforts, only Benedikte and Randolph had come to his side. Maybe if he had conducted himself better, Zanoba and Rudeus—and maybe even the knights that had died—might have been willing to stand with him. It was too late to reflect on that now. 

"Good question. People are often terrified of me as well, and I haven't the faintest idea why either," Randolph said, as if trying to comfort him. But in Randolph's case, it was no doubt because of his appearance. If only he could do something about that skeletal face and that unsettling smile, things might change a little. 

Actually, even with those problems, Randolph had still gained the respect of the King Dragon Realm's High General and numerous swordsmen. Pax had nothing like that. He'd become king, and now had both a wife he loved and an excellent subordinate. But alas, that was no way to run a country. He couldn't win the recognition of the masses. 

Maybe he'd gone about this the wrong way, but the fact remained that had too few people in his corner. He no longer knew what to do to bolster his supporters. He needed comrades, but he had no clue how to get them. Pax was now at a loss for what to do. 

"Randolph," he said. 

"Yes?" 

"When I die, take Benedikte with you and escape from here." 

Randolph swallowed a breath. In the dozen or so years he'd lived through numerous battles, never once had another person made him cognizant of his own breathing, but he suddenly found his awareness heightened now. 

"Go back to the King Dragon Realm. When my child is born, impart to them your swordsmanship and culinary talents." Randolph said nothing. 

"Academia as well," Pax added. "Given the parentage of our child, there's no way they'll appoint them a tutor. I'm entrusting their care to you." 

Again, Randolph was silent. 

"And I'd ask you to compliment them as much as possible. I doubt Benedikte will be able to do that herself. Neither of us was ever complimented much." 

Finally he found his voice and said, "Um, Your Majesty?" 

A rare expression crossed Randolph's face, one he never displayed to others, neither before nor after he came to be called the Death God. In fact, after becoming one of the Seven Great Powers, he'd killed so many men—tens of thousands of them—that he stopped seeing them as people. In all his long years he had only made such a face on a select few occasions. This was the look of someone who didn't want the other person to die. 

"What is it?" Pax asked. 

"You know, I like you," Randolph said. 

But he couldn't bring himself to ask Pax not to die. He was the Death God, after all. Being fifth of the Seven Great Powers, he'd seen countless men die. He'd seen numerous people choose a noble death over a meaningless life. He'd paid his respects to every one of them. 

The man before Randolph was a king. He had a stunted body, was unloved by his people, had suffered civil war immediately after his ascension, and would probably be forgotten in the long term, snuffed out from the annals of history. But he was a king, nonetheless. He'd done his part to earn the people's acknowledgement and ascended to the throne. It made sense that he wanted to die as a king. His pride compelled him. 

"That's why I'll be sure to carry out your order, even at the cost of my own life," Randolph finished. 

"I trust you will." 

Randolph Marianne may have been called a Death God by others, but a true god of death he was not. He knew of the man who'd carried the title before him. The former Death God would always listen to the words of the dying before they passed. He would honor their dignity and protect it until their last breath. This was why he had come to be called a Death God. Randolph had followed his example, because Randolph respected him more than any other— and had even inherited his name. 

"Well, it seems the sun is about to set." Having gotten the answer he wanted, Pax tore his gaze from the scenery outside and headed toward his bedroom. "I'm going to go bid my farewell to Benedikte. It'll be our last tryst. Will you make sure no one interrupts before we are finished?" 

"As you wish, Your Majesty." 

Pax disappeared inside the room, and Randolph took up his position outside. After a while, he got tired of standing and went downstairs to fetch a chair. One he was seated, he propped his elbows against his knees and interlaced his fingers, resting his chin upon them. He kept his gaze locked on the stairs and the window that sat just beyond them. It was as though he wanted to burn the sight—Pax's last glimpse at the city he'd ruled—into his mind's eye. 

"To be honest, I rather wish you wouldn't die," Randolph muttered as he slowly closed his eyes.