BXBX NOVEL Chapter 257: Rinella’s Destiny is Her Own (50)
Chapter 257: Rinella’s Destiny is Her Own (50)
The Saintess, upset by the man’s indifferent remarks, couldn’t help but further raise her voice.“Did you expect this to happen?! If so, there could have been another solution by sparing that Dark Priest!”
"Spare Mitram?"
With a snort, the man scoffed as if the idea was ludicrous.
His expressions of emotion became slightly more apparent now he had some alcohol in him.
Albeit only to a faint degree that one wouldn't notice without close observation.
"How ridiculous... Do you have any idea how rare it is for that cunning bastard to reveal her main body? If we had let her live, who knows how many more years she would have been active. And the number of people who would be hurt and killed by her evil schemes would easily exceed hundreds."
"B-But..."
The Saintess wanted to say, "It's your territory," but the man's expression was utterly cold.He said in a firm tone,
“There’s no ‘but’ in war. If we start considering every case, there would be no one without circumstances, so we must always make efficient and rational choices... We cannot afford exceptions. Neither me, nor anyone else.”
The first to become speechless was the Saintess.
It was a matter that involved at least hundreds of lives.
It was impossible to take responsibility for those countless lives simply by arguing about it. The Saintess, who saved and lost many lives before, understood the weight of it all.
The next to counter-argue was Elsie.
Her demeanour was slightly softened compared to before, but she asked with a still firm hostility.
"...We won't know unless we try, right?"
The man didn’t even spare her a glance.
He simply tilted the whiskey bottle again, half of the plentiful liquor having already disappeared.
Elsie, further provoked by his blatant disregard, cried out,
"After all, you're not Master! Who are you to tell us to abandonMaster's territory?! Do you have any idea how strong our Rinella family's mage corps are to give up without even trying...!"
However, her heated voice was soon stifled.
The man had merely looked at Elsie.
His eyes were chillingly devoid of emotion.
She had a spontaneous thought that if there was someone that could live without a heart, it might be this man in front of her.
There seemed to be no room for compassion in his decisions.
Yet, for a moment, Elsie caught a glimpse of the memories that flashed across the man's barren expression, the sight making her clench her fists and turn away.
It wasn't that he didn't want to save them.
He simply couldn't.
Perhaps he too had tried several times.
In the distant future.
But he no longer did so, after falling and getting hurt too many times.
"Is the discussion over? I'll persuade the Family Head, Arthur, and Sir Reynold myself, so everyone, start packing your bags quickly. It's a large-scale operation, so we can't afford to delay any longer."
It was after he had finished speaking and was about to stand up.
Someone abruptly asked.
"...abandoning them like that."
It was Celine.
Still with a confused look in her eyes, she asked again in a trembling voice, not even sure if it was a question or a provocation.
"By abandoning them like that, what have you been protecting, Oppa?"
The man's hand, reaching for the whiskey on the table, paused.
His gaze attentively turned towards Celine.
Yet, unlike the other women, Celine didn't stop speaking. Instead, she became increasingly agitated and raised her voice even more.
"Family? Friends? Or a lover? By even giving up your territory, what exactly have you......!"
"The world."
At that moment, her words abruptly came to a halt.
Celine's eyes stared blankly at the man.
He had already downed half a bottle of liquor.
His eyes were still blazing, even though his pupils should have been dilated by now.
Like embers left in a pile of ashes.
"...Besides that, I couldn't protect anything."
Family, friends, lovers.
All of that.
The man took one last swig of whiskey and staggered away.
His departing figure looked sorrowful.
In the agonising silence, only the Saintess let out a sigh-like prayer.
"Immanuel....."
Abandoning hundreds of lives..
That was the conclusion reached in the gathering.
**
After leaving the reception room, the man's actions were radical.
He immediately went to find Arthur, the Imperial Administrator.
Just as he explained the situation to the women, the man explained it to Arthur, but he did not seem convinced.
The man barged into the meeting room while reeking of alcohol .
Even if he had obtained information from the Dark Priest, it was hard to trust it outright.
Arthur shook his head and opened his mouth.
"It's impossible. This is a matter that even His Majesty, The Emperor is paying attention to. To carry out a large-scale retreat operation based solely on the words of a Dark Priest..."
It was then that the man drew his finger down.
As if blood were trickling down, strange characters began to be engraved in the air.
Being the Imperial Administrator, Arthur could not fail to recognize what those were.
His eyes bulged, as if they were about to pop out.
Despite Arthur’s dramatic reaction, the man spoke in an unvarying voice.
"It's not a request but an order. Take responsibility and carry out the retreat operation. Tell Sir Reynold that it's an Imperial command."
"Ye-Yes!"
Arthur was nothing more than an administrative officer from a common background, without any backing.
It was impossible for him to refuse the man's command.
No,even with backing it was an order that could not be refused.
The Dragonblood Script was no different from the symbol of the Emperor.
Therefore, the command given by the holder of the Dragonblood Script was equivalent to a command from His Majesty himself..
Unless the Emperor came to personally revise the order, Arthur had to carry out the man's will even at the cost of his own life.
Arthur, who had been dumbfounded, suddenly seemed to remember something and hurriedly attempted to kneel.
If it weren't for the man's cold voice piercing through.
"Do you have time to adhere to such formalities? Then get to work immediately."
"I-I understand!"
Arthur had no choice but to sit back down with a trembling voice.
Everything proceeded smoothly after the reveal of the Dragonblood Script.
Even persuading Viscount Percus was fairly simple.
Using the authority of the Imperial Administrator Arthur and mentioning it was an Imperial order was all it took.
There was no noble in the empire who could go against the Emperor's will.
Viscount Percus appeared confused, but soon, with a sigh, had to give orders to his vassals.
To issue an evacuation order throughout the territory.
Of course, the man's storm-like actions did not stop there.
Before long, he moved to the backyard and uttered indifferently,
"...Neris."
"Yes, Sir Ian."
As if it was only natural, a shadow settled behind the man.
A beauty with brown hair and deep green eyes, Neris from the Imperial Intelligence Agency.
She had been hiding in the backyard of the Percus Manor while gathering information.
"Relay this through the communication network to the Sword Duke. Inform him that he must come to the Percus territory. Also, request the mobilisation of the White Wing Knights."
"...Yes, Yes?"
Even though Neris had decided not to question the man anymore, the content was so shocking that she couldn't help but make a baffled sound.
After all, the Sword Duke was a member of the Imperial Family and the only master in the Empire.
He was not someone who could be ordered around by anyone.
This was the same even if the other party possessed the Dragonblood Script.
The Sword Duke was precisely the great elder of the Imperial Family, whose authority was recognized and shown deference to even by the Emperor.
And to even mention the White Wing Knights—it was practically the same as asking to dispatch one of the elite knight orders of the central Imperial army.
However, Neris had no choice but to submit and comply with the man's command.
It was because while she was blankly staring at the man, she noticed the hatchet.
Upon seeing it, she immediately reverted to being Ian's loyal subordinate.
"I-I will do as you command!"
Despite the belated attempt to rectify, the man seemed somewhat dissatisfied.
He tapped the hatchet hanging on his waist as if contemplating. Each time he did, drops of sweat fell from her forehead.
Fortunately, the man did not go as far as to draw it .
He merely issued a cold warning.
"…Don't forget. The Empire's crows must be blind."
It meant to act ignorant of the opponent's status and the gathered information.
Along with the meaning to obediently follow the superior's order like a clueless person who knew nothing.
As if she would keep it in mind, Neris bowed her head to the ground once and hurriedly left.
To activate the communication network of the Imperial Intelligence Agency.
As the events unfolded in a frenzy, the man had always kept a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
The first bottle had long been empty.
Now, even the second one was more than half empty, inevitably making his face flush with drunkenness.
Yet,the way his eyes had yet to dim was astonishing..
The man staggered towards his prepared room in the manor.
Despite it being early evening, it was time for him to lie down and sleep.
However, someone followed him.
It was Leto.
Upon finding the man, Leto immediately grabbed his shoulder.
The man's gaze naturally turned behind him, and Leto, facing those golden eyes, asked,
"...Can't you do it?"
No answer came back from the man.
Therefore, Leto had to ask again.
"With your power, can't you defeat that underlying of Evil God or whatever it is?"
Soon after, a sigh warmed by alcohol leaked out.
He placed his hand on his forehead and then shook his head.
"I can't, being summoned this time was already an exceptional situation. So, it's going to be troublesome for a while... There's a limit to how much I can directly alter the future."
The man added that this was why he could only convey fragmented information.
Although now, given the already known clues it was possible to provide more detailed information, the more specific the information provided beforehand, the more power it consumed.
That alone was enough of a result for Leto to have detained the man.
Yet, he seemed to have more questions.
With a serious tone, he probed the man for additional information.
"Then what about providing your memories to Ian? According to him, he sometimes has unidentified dreams… Aren't those your memories? After that, he seems to have learned the techniques you used."
The man did not deny that inference.
However, he just sighed again.
"...The assimilation rate is too high."
"What?"
"The assimilation rate... The brat has peeked into my memories too much. So, instead of appearing only when I want, I get summoned whenever he loses consciousness."
He sighed and leaned against the wall next to the door.
As if to deal with the remaining alcohol, the man tilted the whiskey bottle and gulped it down.
"The more it happens, the more he gets influenced by my intense emotions... If his mental strength was as strong as mine it might be different, but that's not the case. So he's becoming more violent and strange."
"...What happens if the assimilation rate goes even higher?"
"I don't know either."
The man shrugged and added.
"Do you think it's my second time coming back to the past? It's a first in history... So I don't know, I can only be cautious."
If that brat gets ruined, it's all over.
With that faint murmur as the last, the man shook the remaining alcohol onto his tongue.
Then, wiping his mouth, he staggered to open the door.
It was a signal to end the conversation.
Leto simply watched quietly.
Instead of a farewell, Leto uttered a single question.
"...Why?"
The man's golden eyes glanced briefly towards Leto.
Though his gestures were no different from those of a drunkard, his gaze was intensely sharp.
It felt like seeing someone who wanted to get drunk but couldn't.
"Even if you save this world, it won't benefit you in any way... Then, what's the reason for going to such lengths?"
Silently, the man gazed into the void for a moment.
His silence didn't last long.
The man burst into a hollow laugh and answered.
"...I don't know."
That was the last thing the man said that day.
*
The next day, Ian Percus returned.
"...What's this?"
He remarked upon facing the changed attitudes of those around him.