Yeriel opened her eyes.
White snow was falling from the dark sky.
Sarak······ sarak······.
The snow approached in silence and touched her face.
Yeriel closed her eyes. She wiped away the damp snow and opened them again.
The scenery before her eyes was nothing but snow. The sky, the earth, the horizon—everything was snow.
“······.”
Slowly rising, Yeriel looked far ahead, beyond the curtain-like veil of swaying snow-mist.
In the pure white world stood an old mansion. Its roof and window frames were buried beneath snow.
Yeriel blinked in the world of snow.
“Where did the vassals go?”
It was the first question that came to mind. The four vassals who had come with her were nowhere by her side.
After thinking for a moment, Yeriel first approached the only place that was not snow.
Crunch, crunch······.
She stepped across the snowfield.
Her footprints were engraved upon the immaculate snow.
“······Everyone! Are you in there?!”
Once she reached the mansion door, she called out first. No answer came back, and even when she shook the doorknob, the door did not open.
“Ah.”
Realizing something, Yeriel took a key from her pocket.
She shoved it carelessly into the locked door. There was no need for a keyhole.
She simply stuck it in and twisted it, and creeeeak—the door opened.
“Everyone······ are you here?”
The interior was ordinary.
It was the sort of old mansion anyone could imagine.
Crackle— crackle—
The sound of firewood popping in the fireplace. The rich scent of tea. As though entranced, Yeriel walked that way.
“······?!”
The moment she reached the living room, she stopped short.
Near the fireplace, seated in a rocking chair, was someone familiar.
“Deculein?”
He turned to look at her. Holding a teacup in one hand and resting the other on the armrest of the chair, he spoke.
“Yeriel.”
“······.”
Yeriel tensed.
If Deculein was here, there could be only one reason.
“······Did you already know?”
He shook his head.
It had been a serious question, yet his answer was bizarre.
“I am not Deculein.”
“What is that supposed to mean now?”
“I am your diary.”
“······What?”
At the absurd statement, Yeriel furrowed her brow.
Deculein—no, the diary that resembled Deculein—explained.
“A guide designed to welcome the ‘person’ who has entered this place, a learning intelligence constructed through magic, and an existence embodied by the artifact.”
Thud— he set the teacup down on the table.
“That is what I am.”
“······Huh?”
Yeriel was dazed for a moment, but it was plausible.
After all, it was an artifact of none other than her father, Dikailen.
Magic at the level of a great mage—though, of course, Dikailen was limited to the field of [Artifacts]—was······ a realm that the mind of an ordinary mage could not even dare to comprehend.
“Then what about my vassals?”
“Those without keys were temporarily ‘recorded’ by the security mechanism.”
“······Recorded?”
The diary held out four notebooks. Yeriel hesitantly approached and received them.
“This is······.”
On the plain cover of the notebook was the title 「Roel」.
It was the name of her vassal, the butler who had been with her for a long time.
“You will know if you read it.”
“······.”
Yeriel opened the first page.
Sarak, sarak—
Sentences were being written in the notebook in real time.
[ I do not know where this place is. I merely opened my eyes, and I was in this world······ no, is this even a world? ]
Shock filled Yeriel’s eyes as she read the page.
[ ······Above all, I am worried about Lady Yeriel. If this space is inside the diary, then for now, I have no choice but to find the young lady. ]
Yeriel raised her head. The ‘artifact’ in Deculein’s form was calmly sipping tea.
“What in the world is this?”
“They have been ‘recorded’ within their memories by the security mechanism. Since you possess the key, you are instead protected by the security mechanism.”
“These sentences are their thoughts?”
“That is correct. Their entire selves have been ‘recordified.’”
“······.”
“You look surprised.”
Yeriel read another notebook, that of the guard knight 「David」.
[ We must move without delay. I must quickly prepare everything and advance so that I may be of help to the young lady······. ]
Another notebook belonged to the head maid 「Rachel」, and another to the mage 「Regillon」······.
Their thoughts were continuing on as nothing more than mere writing.
“······.”
Yeriel placed a hand on the back of her neck. Her neck was stiff, and her head ached as if it would split apart.
The diary spoke.
“When magic reaches a certain realm, it functions as true magic. It is on a different level from things like 「Telekinesis」 or 「Fireball」. I have approached a realm that could be called truth.”
“Is there a way to return them to normal?”
“There is. They are not dead, so do not worry. They have merely been caught by the security mechanism.”
Yeriel collected herself and spoke composedly.
“Then, I want to see Deculein’s memories.”
“As much as you wish.”
He rose from his seat. Yeriel followed him.
The two walked outside the living room and down the ‘right’ corridor.
On the walls of the long corridor hung countless frames.
“This entire place is Deculein’s memory. You need only look into any one of them.”
“······Is that so?”
“However, it consumes mana.”
Yeriel stood before one frame.
It contained a familiar yet awkward ‘study.’ It was familiar because it was the lord’s castle of Yukline, and awkward because the arrangement of the furniture was different.
“I just put my eye up to it?”
“That is correct.”
“······Okay.”
Yeriel pressed her eye close to the frame.
—Your grades are good.
At that moment, a voice rang out. Yeriel looked that way.
“Ah.”
A groan slipped out unconsciously.
In the study were her father, Dikailen, and Deculein together.
—However, only your grades are good. Your academic performance outside the Magic Tower is an absolute mess.
Her father sat in a chair and reprimanded Deculein, while Deculein listened with his head bowed.
—When you were young, I thought you were a prodigy.
Deculein said nothing. He merely remained still like a sinner.
—If this is how it is, I might as well make Yeriel—
—You must not.
The moment her father mentioned her, Deculein abruptly raised his eyes.
Yeriel stood there blankly, and her father sneered.
—If you know that, then you need only show me something better.
—I will. I swear it.
—I do not need your oaths. Take this.
Her father handed something to Deculein.
—Deculein, that is your choice. It will be pain as though your heart is being shattered, but surely you are not afraid of a mere thing like that?
—······Yes. Of course not.
That was the end of the memory in the first frame.
Yeriel pulled her eye away and looked at the frame right beside it.
—······.
This time, it was not the study of Yukline’s lord’s castle, but a corridor. Deculein was standing by the window, looking outside.
Beneath the sunlight where his gaze fell was a young Yeriel.
In other words, herself.
“Why are you looking at me?”
Yeriel asked bluntly. Then Deculein turned around.
“Me?”
The timing was exquisite. Startled, Yeriel unconsciously corrected her tone.
—······Young Master Deculein.
“!”
At that moment, a nostalgic voice rose softly. Deeply startled, Yeriel almost snapped her head toward it.
Adele.
Deculein’s stepmother, and her own birth mother. Yeriel struggled to suppress the emotion that surged within her.
—Are you all right?
Adele asked. Deculein gave no answer. With a bitter smile, Adele approached his side.
—······If Yeriel becomes a wound to you, Young Master—
—Please leave.
As if he did not even want to hear it, Deculein turned his back.
The second memory ended there.
“Ugh······ Haa. I need to look at recent memories······”
Though she had observed only two records, Yeriel leaned against the corridor for a moment and caught her breath.
Mental fatigue and mana exhaustion filled her entire body.
“I knew that one day, the two of you would visit me.”
Then, a voice flowed in from the end of the corridor.
Yeriel looked that way.
“You knew?”
At that, the ‘diary’ in question turned to look at her. He was standing alone in the living room.
Yeriel furrowed her brow and asked again.
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘the two of you’?”
He nodded and handed Yeriel a notebook.
Her eyes were dyed with shock.
* * *
······One hour earlier.
The late dawn in the Magic Tower.
After finishing my daily tasks—preparing for lectures, judging the various projects proposed by the professors, and so on—I belatedly took the diary out of the drawer.
[ ]
An untitled notebook containing memories.
However, this was not my diary. Even the information reflected in 「Vision」 identified it as 「Yeriel’s Diary」.
I still did not know why she had stolen my diary, but for the moment, the cover was strange.
Slosh, slosh—
The paper swayed like liquid. As though rippling, a portion of its particles clung to my fingers.
“······I did think it wouldn’t be an ordinary artifact.”
I looked into it with the eyes of 「Comprehension」.
Not only human mana circuits but even a portion of a soul had been imbued into the diary itself, and those circuits and that soul were resonating together.
Most likely Yeriel’s doing.
“Was it a paired artifact?”
My diary and Yeriel’s diary were connected to each other.
Judging from their almost identical structure and operation, they had been artifacts created as ‘a pair’ from the beginning.
“The function itself is similar to a portal, but······.”
I switched off 「Comprehension」. Merely analyzing it briefly had consumed as much as 「2,000」 mana.
“It is too risky to enter alone.”
Having reached that conclusion, I first left the office.
In the dark corridor, the [Assistant Research Room] suddenly caught my eye. Beyond its glass, there was still light.
“······.”
I approached and looked inside.
In the spacious research room, there was only Epherene. Her desk was full of magic theory books, but their owner herself was buried among the books, asleep with her head down.
I opened the door to the research room.
“Phew······ whew······”
I quietly looked at her as she breathed softly, then took the pendant from my breast.
“Pheeeew······ wheeeeew······”
A young Epherene smiling brightly, and a man with a stiff face.
Within the still-vivid memories of Lokralen, the future great mage had most certainly been Epherene.
“Pheee······ whew······”
Was it because the world line had changed due to my existence that I had become the great mage?
Or had the original storyline been a future in which she would become a great mage?
I thought of the two great mages I had met as a ‘Player.’
The creator, Sylvia, and the last fairy, Adrienne.
There could be only three great mages in a single era.
“You are······.”
I looked at Epherene.
Perhaps because she was hot, she had taken off her robe. However, due to the nature of the 77th floor of the Magic Tower, it would grow cold once night fell.
“Still full of questions.”
I picked up the robe lying haphazardly with my hand. I draped it over her back.
At that moment.
“······.”
A good idea came to me.
If it was this girl, perhaps she would be of some help.
I looked back and forth between the diary in one hand and Epherene.
And then.
Snap—!
I flicked my fingers and turned off the light.
In the darkened research room, I placed a single note with 「Midas’s Hand」 applied to it beneath the light of the desk lamp, then returned to the [Head Professor’s Office].
And then······
······Ten minutes later.
“······.”
Epherene, who had been forcibly pressing her forehead into the desk, slowly opened her eyes. After cautiously checking her surroundings, she carefully raised her head.
“······What was that?”
In truth, she had woken the moment Deculein opened the door. It was because of Deculein’s unique oppressive aura.
“What the hell? He even covered me with my robe······ Uuuuuugh.”
Goosebumps rose, and her whole body shuddered. Epherene scratched wildly at her back as she recalled what he had said.
—You are······ still full of questions.
“Uuuuuugh.”
An even stronger wave of goosebumps—no, chills—rose, and this time she scratched all over her body. Full of questions, he said. Even the tone he had used to say it had been gentle.
“What is wrong with that professor, seriously······ What is this now?”
Epherene discovered a small note lying on her desk. A strange scrap of paper. Tilting her head, she crept out of the research room.
The lights were bright in the [Head Professor’s Office].
“Ahem.”
Epherene arranged her face into a dazed expression, as though she had only just woken up, and, holding nothing but a single note in her hand, grasped the doorknob to Deculein’s office.
“Haaaaaahm~”
One forced yawn, her eyes half-brimming with tears, she staggered as she opened the door...
“Um, Professor. I just woke up, like, three minutes ago. What is this note...?”
She looked inside.
Deculein was not in the office. There was only a single notebook lying on the desk.
“What’s this?”
Epherene blinked, her face the picture of innocence.
* * *
The inside of the [ Diary ] was a world entirely of snow. Nothing existed there but pure white snow and the old mansion in the distance.
Thus, perhaps it was instinct that led me toward that decrepit building.
“...Did Yeriel open it?”
The door was already open. I straightened my clothes and went inside.
A campfire was burning in the empty living room.
Step—
Then came the sound of footsteps. I turned toward it.
“You... look like me.”
A man who resembled me was standing there.
He nodded expressionlessly and answered as follows.
“I am the diary.”
“...Whose diary?”
“Your diary. The memories of you all are recorded within me.”
After thinking for a moment, I asked him.
“Where is Yeriel?”
“She is looking through your memories.”
He pointed to the corridor on the right.
“Is she safe?”
“Yeriel has the key.”
I did not know what this key was, but it seemed to mean she was more or less safe.
I looked to the left.
“If the right is mine, then the left is Yeriel’s memories?”
“That is correct.”
At that moment, sssss—! The campfire died down. A blizzard and darkness poured in.
Though the windows were certainly closed.
In that strange environment, I looked at the madman who had introduced himself as the ‘diary.’
“You are full of death variables.”
“...”
He said,
“Hide.”
I answered,
“Do you know? Death surrounds me. I can see every single particle of it. But from you...”
The face, voice, and atmosphere of the one who called himself the diary.
From each and every one of them, death variables bubbled like froth.
“You are filled with killing intent.”
The diary had no expression. He merely nodded calmly.
“Perhaps so.”
I smiled faintly.
This fellow resembled me, but he was not me.
More precisely, even his model was not me.
His original was someone who resembled me—no, someone whom ‘Deculein resembled.’
“Your model is not me, but Dikailen.”
“...”
The diary’s eyebrow twitched.
“Though I suppose that is only natural, since you are Dikailen’s creation.”
The diary, who had listened in silence, finally nodded.
“That is correct. I am Master’s creation. A magical personality created for the sake of succession.”
“You mean the succession of Yukline.”
“Yes. Master had no intention of deciding the matter of succession so easily. Master did not trust you.”
“...Did not trust me, you say.”
“Yes.”
“How sad.”
At that moment, a quest appeared on my retina.
[ Independent Quest: Family ]
As I read the quest summary, the diary spoke to me, his face overflowing with murderous intent.
“Hide.”
“...”
I did not answer.
Whoooosh—!
Darkness and snowstorm entwined, taking shape. The diary spoke again.
“Hide.”
“I do not hide.”
His expression changed.
“...Hide. The security mechanism is approaching.”
“No need.”
He closed his mouth.
Of course, that did not mean I had any particular method prepared. The entire old mansion had already become a death variable.
“Then. You have no choice but to become a record as well.”
The corners of the diary’s mouth twisted.
I quietly stared into his eyes.
Whoooooosh──!
A dark blizzard rose like a gust. The fiercely raging wind swallowed my body.
*
...The blizzard subsided, and the living room sank into silence.
The ‘diary’ stared coldly at the notebook lying on the floor.
“I knew that someday, the two of you would come to visit me.”
Just as he murmured those words.
“You knew?”
Yeriel, having observed the two portraits, came outside.
Drained from expending her mana, she sighed from exhaustion, but then suddenly caught onto his words.
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘the two of you’? Who else is here besides me?”
In answer, the diary handed Yeriel a notebook. Yeriel saw the name written on it and her eyes widened.
「Deculein」
“...Of course it’s Deculein.”
Deculein had become a notebook.