The heart does not beat. The lungs do not function. With the vital organs responsible for sustaining life, save for the brain, having stopped, body temperature falls, and the peripheral nerves—including those in the fingers and toes—begin to stiffen.
My body is already dead.
However, the body of an 「Iron Man」 postpones death. In place of the heart and lungs, the blood vessels artificially contract and relax in repetition, transporting blood and oxygen.
It is nothing more than a stopgap measure to buy a very small amount of time, but this much is enough.
So that my death will not be discovered by the Sophien of this world, and so that her next memory can continue normally.
I reached that wooden door beneath the Imperial Palace.
The door was already open. As if it had been waiting.
“······.”
I stepped into the depths beneath the ground. With slow strides, I reached the heart of the darkness.
“You knew it would turn out like this.”
A voice sounded at that moment. I turned toward it.
It was the 「Demon’s Mirror」 wearing Sophien’s appearance.
The creature said,
“It’s all over. You’re dead.”
“······.”
I nodded. I had consumed nearly sixty thousand mana in an instant, and accepted an immense amount of demonic energy with my bare body.
From that point on, there had been no possibility of surviving.
“I know.”
“If you knew, why did you do it? I’m curious.”
It asked. I simply closed my eyes.
Quite a few thoughts came to mind. Among them were Deculein’s, and among them were Kim Woojin’s.
But there was only one answer to its question.
“It was a promise, and I did not want to lose.”
A body already collapsed. Even my brain was slowly dying, yet strangely, a smile flowed across my face. In that state, I opened my eyes and gazed at it.
“I did not want to hand this world, Sophien, over to a lowly demon like you.”
“······.”
The demon’s face hardened. It worked its lips, then nodded.
“Then congratulations. You won.”
Those were the last words.
First, I lost my sight, and then my hearing. The darkened world was dyed in silence.
Stillness. Silence. Quiet.
Within that hollow emptiness, I felt death approaching with clarity.
······It was a touch cold enough to sting.
* * *
“······.”
Sophien awoke from sleep. Her head was somewhat clouded. It was because her memories had become mixed together, but the distinction between them was certain.
Deculein had kept the vow he had made with her.
“······Stubborn bastard.”
Sophien muttered with a laugh. He had truly watched every one of her deaths.
Of course, the three assassinations that had not been illnesses seemed to have been exceptions, for he left as soon as her sickness was cured.
“But······.”
Sophien looked around her bedchamber.
Two teacups placed on the tea table, and coffee gone completely cold. It was exactly as it had been when she had sent Deculein away.
“He said he would face me.”
Sophien, frowning, grasped a teacup. Her mana added warmth to the coffee.
Sip— She took a mouthful.
Tap, tap— She drummed her fingers on the table and waited.
Wondering how much time it would take to come from the underground to this place.
“······.”
Sophien looked at the clock.
Tick— tock— tick—
The second hand moved ceaselessly, but Deculein did not return.
No matter how vast the Imperial Palace was, it should not have taken more than ten minutes. Had my sloth somehow rubbed off on him?
Just as Sophien, pointlessly irritated, folded her arms and wriggled her lips—
—Your Majesty!
A disorderly shout rang out from outside the bedchamber. Sophien opened the door with 「Telekinesis」.
“What is this racket?”
“It is a disaster! In the underground of the Imperial Palace······.”
At the urgent words that followed, Sophien’s eyes widened. She sprang to her feet.
Her legs moved before her mind did, and dozens of retainers and knights followed behind her.
“Your Majesty! Here, an unknown—”
The place Sophien arrived at in haste was the underground of the Imperial Palace.
Beside the wooden door leading to its bottom stood one person.
“······.”
Sophien walked forward blankly. With every step, the world seemed a little dizzy. Her footprints staggered.
“Ha······.”
At last, when she reached him, an absurd laugh leaked out. Without realizing it, she clenched her fist.
“······You said you would face me at the end of my course.”
Deculein.
His entire body eroded by demonic energy, he stood as though leaning against the underground wall. Already, every biological function had ceased, and his blood vessels burned black.
By any standard, he looked like a corpse.
“Was this the state you meant to return in?”
Sophien felt a cold headache. In a flash, countless moments of life rewound before her.
“······.”
The bastard who had stayed with her through her long memories, like traces left behind in every history of regression.
“Y-Your Majesty. You must not. The demonic energy will—”
“Shut your mouth.”
Ignoring the retainer’s attempt to stop her, she reached him. She stared intently at that face with its eyes closed.
—I will be watching over Your Highness from wherever I may be.
The words he had spoken when he left played back in her mind.
—Even if I should be out of sight for a moment······ I will always be within Your Highness’s course.
Sophien looked at the sword at her waist. It was the treasured blade passed down through generations to the Emperor of the Empire.
—······May I ask only one promise of you?
If, now.
If I commit suicide, you will come back to life.
—No matter what happens······ do not take your own life.
Did you know this and say those words?
—Cherish Your Highness’s life······
Was it an arrogant certainty that I would take my own life for your sake?
This damned bastard.
If you were going to die, you could have just said you would die.
“······.”
An emotion she herself could not know. As Sophien felt a torrent that seemed to flow through her, she suddenly noticed a piece of paper protruding from the inner pocket of his formal attire. She reached out and retrieved the scrap.
“Your Majesty.”
At that moment, the eunuch Jollang called Sophien. Sophien turned to look at him, then froze coldly.
On Jollang’s expressionless face, for some reason, there was a hint that he was holding back laughter.
“Two knights are currently being detained in the Imperial Palace prison.”
“Knights?”
“Yes. Yulie and Keiron, who dared to engage in an unauthorized duel within the Imperial Palace.”
“······Honestly.”
Sophien let out a hollow laugh.
“While I slept, the place turned into a complete shitshow.”
* * *
Emperor Sophien personally visited the prison of the Imperial Palace. Yulie and Keiron were each isolated behind separate iron bars.
Sophien looked back and forth between the two knights.
Then she asked,
“Who won?”
There was no answer. Both of them kept their mouths shut.
“Are you ignoring my words? Or are you saying it was not a duel, but a brawl?”
A duel and a fight were different in nature.
A “duel” between knights was treated as somewhat sacred, and extenuating circumstances could be considered, but if it was a “fight,” then the story was different. A brawl within the Imperial Palace could, in severe cases, even warrant the death penalty.
“······I was defeated.”
It was Yulie’s answer. Sophien chuckled.
“Indeed. It would be strange if you won.”
“Your Majesty.”
Then Yulie asked, her face somewhat fearful.
“By any chance, Professor Deculein is······.”
“He is dead.”
“······!”
Yulie’s head shot up. Looking at her shocked face, Sophien clicked her tongue.
“From the look of you, you seem like you will follow him soon enough.”
“······.”
Yulie lowered her head without a word. Sophien next turned to Keiron. Keiron was seated on both knees.
“Keiron.”
“Yes.”
“Have you nothing to say?”
“······How are you feeling, Your Majesty?”
“······.”
Without answering, Sophien spoke to the retainer beside her. She did not particularly want to get into a scuffle here.
“Release them both. It was a duel between knights.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. Guard!”
The guard hurried over and opened the iron-barred doors. Yulie seemed to be reeling from shock and could not easily rise, but Keiron stood behind Sophien as he always did.
After glancing sidelong at Yulie, Sophien left the prison.
“That is enough. Everyone, return now.”
“““Yes, Your Majesty. Your grace is boundless······.”””
She dismissed all the retainers and walked down the corridor of the Imperial Palace.
Step, step—
Keiron’s and Sophien’s footsteps overlapped as they echoed. Matching one’s stride to the Emperor’s was a basic duty of a guard knight.
“······Keiron.”
“Yes.”
“There was a 「Message Paper」 in Deculein’s inner pocket.”
Sophien held out the paper pinched between two fingers to Keiron. Keiron accepted it silently.
“According to its contents, you are tailing a Nesius.”
“Yes.”
“Is that still the case even now?”
“Yes.”
At Keiron’s answer, Sophien smiled faintly.
Whether that cunning bastard Deculein had intended this, or whether it had happened by chance, or if not even that—
Whether my own feelings toward him are moving this way.
“The power that lesser demon stole originally belonged to me.”
“Yes. That is correct.”
Sophien stopped walking and turned to Keiron. Keiron immediately knelt on one knee. Looking down at him as he bowed, Sophien spoke.
“Then I shall ask. What is the punishment for a thief who dares steal what belongs to the Emperor?”
Keiron answered.
“Death.”
* * *
The next day, Sophien set out at dawn. It had been a very long time since she had left the Imperial Palace.
She informed no one except Keiron, and deliberately sent out dozens of carriages, but the eyes and ears of the Imperial Palace spread the news here and there.
The various great houses were filled with fear and expectation—“Could the Emperor perhaps be coming to visit us?”—while the officials of the Imperium grew tense, thinking—“Could this procession actually be an inspection?”
However, Sophien’s destination was neither of them.
At the end of a three-day journey, she captured the Nesius Keiron had been tracking.
“······Are you saying this is the form that I fear?”
To Sophien, the Nesius was nothing more than a skeleton. A skeleton draped in a black robe. It was not frightening in the slightest.
Keiron said,
“Cut it down.”
“Hmph. It seems you find it hard to look at. Cowardly bastard.”
“······.”
Shrrrng—!
Sophien drew the treasured sword from her waist. The sharply honed point aimed at the Nesius.
“······.”
However, Sophien did not drive that sword into its neck.
She was hesitating, a little.
Of course, if she regressed like this, Deculein would be revived.
The “power of regression” that this lesser demon had stolen was originally her authority, and the center of that regression was also herself—“Sophien Yekater Augus von Ziphrain.”
Even so, the reason she was hesitating like this was······.
“Keiron. He will forget those memories, won’t he?”
Sophien would remember Deculein, but Deculein would not remember her. In that case, he would remain only within Sophien’s memories.
The countless rounds she had spent with him would vanish, and in this world, there would still be no one who understood her.
“That is likely.”
Keiron answered. At that, Sophien sheathed her sword again.
“Your Majesty.”
Keiron spoke as if urging her on. Glancing at him, she answered like a sigh.
“······There is no need to cut it down.”
Then she reached out toward the Nesius. By merely placing her index finger on the space between that skull’s brows, she retrieved the “essence of regression” it had stolen.
“This should be enough.”
Sophien estimated the date of regression from the size of that essence. Keiron asked in return,
“If the timing is off, it would be a serious problem. Will it be all right?”
“It is my power. I know by looking.”
Sophien gazed at the essence of regression with rather bitter eyes. Then she said in a small voice,
“Keiron.”
“Yes.”
“······No. Once we return, your crime will disappear as well.”
“······.”
Keiron’s face sank heavily. Sophien chuckled and clenched her fist.
“Let us meet again, Keiron.”
“Yes. Your Majesty.”
──At that moment.
The “essence of regression” manifested by Sophien appeared quite dramatically. A dazzling ray of light burst from her clenched hand, dyeing the entire world like the sun.
Sophien closed her eyes for a moment.
Tick— tock—
Tick— tock—
At the sound of the second hand ticking, she opened her eyes.
“······?”
She was seated at the tea table. Steam rose gently from the two cups of coffee on the table. When she raised her gaze a little more, she saw one person.
A bastard who dared to face her directly.
“······.”
“······.”
Sophien looked at him. He looked at her as well.
Both of them, blankly, without a word.
The one to speak first was Sophien.
“······Deculein.”
“Yes.”
“······Did I summon you?”
“That is correct.”
“And you were dragged here from the library?”
“Yes. What is the matter?”
Sophien gave a faint smile. The timing had been perilously close.
Had she been just thirty minutes later, Deculein would already have gone beneath the Imperial Palace.
“······.”
But that smile lasted only a moment. Sophien’s face hardened as she asked Deculein,
“Deculein. Do you, by any chance, remember?”
“······.”
Deculein said nothing.
Sophien asked again. Her voice trembled a little, as though she had expected too much.
“Do you remember?”
Those nearly hundred years, and those more than a hundred deaths.
Do you still remember me?
I thought that if it were you, you might not forget me.
“······What are you referring to?”
Yet Deculein merely asked her that in return.
Without letting it show, Sophien clenched her teeth. She changed the subject as though it were nothing.
“The Altar bastards.”
“Of course. Why would I forget that?”
“······.”
Why would I forget that?
As Sophien listened to his words, she thought.
“As for me······.”
Because you were with me, I could endure it.
“I intend to crush them myself.”
So, you kept your promise.
More than a hundred deaths. More than a hundred regressions.
Even if you do not remember that hellish repetition, I still remember it.
The value of your sacrifice and devotion will not change.
You still kept your promise.
“So······ today.”
Sophien recalled the words Deculein had once said to her. That time when he had suggested chess.
“Let us play chess.”
Deculein’s brow twitched faintly. From that subtle reaction, Sophien grasped his feelings. No, Deculein said it aloud himself.
“You summoned me as soon as morning came merely for chess?”
“What if I did? Are you saying you refuse?”
“······No.”
“Good.”
Sophien used 「Telekinesis」 to place the chessboard on the table. She chose white and gave Deculein black.
“Shall we begin at once?”
“As you wish.”
Deculein was full of confidence.
Well, of course he was.
In all those memories, that damned bastard had not let her win even once.
Clack—
Sophien moved a black pawn one square.
The opposing white pawn moved accordingly.
Clack—
Deculein was aggressive from the opening, and Sophien leisurely answered him.
With her eyes fixed on the chessboard, she said,
“Deculein.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know? There is a skill that does not vanish, no matter how many regressions repeat.”
“What is that?”
“Chess.”
Deculein, who had been listening quietly, nodded.
“I suppose so. Even if one learns magic, it disappears unless the proper circuits are opened again, and swordsmanship has many limitations unless the body is trained. However, that applies not only to chess but also to various other forms of knowledge—”
“Enough. Who told you to analyze it like that?”
Sophien moved her knight roughly and glared at Deculein.
“I am simply saying that is how it is.”
“······Yes.”
With a slightly puzzled expression, Deculein developed his pieces.
The chess game that followed was quiet. It was almost at the level of check and countercheck.
When Deculein made a move, Sophien struck back.
When Sophien made a move, Deculein received it.
The result was concise.
“Damn it. It is a draw.”
“Yes. In theory, if both sides play perfectly without mistakes, chess has a high probability of resulting in a draw.”
“······.”
Sophien looked at Deculein. Deculein was analyzing the position on the chessboard.
—I am rather good at chess. So much so that even if Your Majesty devoted your entire life to it, you would not defeat me.
The words he had spoken from within the mirror echoed in her ears.
—So by the time you defeat me, would you not be fully healed?
“No.”
Even now that she was fully healed, it was no more than a draw.
Your words were wrong.
“That is only in theory, Your Majesty.”
Deculein spoke. That aristocratic face of his looked especially vexing today.
After thinking for a moment, Sophien pointed at the door with her chin.
“Enough. You may return now. Your fiancée is likely waiting for you.”
“My fiancée······ do you mean Julie?”
“Yes. One game is enough for today.”
“······Yes. I understand.”
Deculein paid his respects to Sophien and rose.
Sophien propped her chin on her hand as though she had no interest at all. Then, from the corner of her eye, she watched his departing back.
Creeeeak······.
The man walked away with steady steps and closed the door. She did not miss the broad back visible through the gap.
“······.”
Thud—!
The door closed, and left alone, Sophien idly toyed with her chessboard. Then she rummaged at her waist and took something out.
It was a hand mirror.
“······Hey.”
She spoke while looking into that mirror.
“Are you there?”
Yet no matter how long she waited, no answer came back.
Sophien leaned back in her chair.
“If you are not, then so be it.”
Hoo······ After taking a deep breath, she opened a drawer and placed the hand mirror inside. Then she drew back the curtains.
Beyond the window, sunlight scattered like petals in full bloom. Looking up at that source of light, she touched various parts of her body.
At any rate, the ennui that had gnawed at her mind until now seemed to have disappeared to some extent······.
“Keiron!”
She called Keiron. From outside the door, Keiron answered.
—Yes, Your Majesty.
“I shall exercise for the first time in a while!”
—······?
The flustered man seemed to lose his words for a moment, but Sophien opened the door before he could say anything more.
Keiron, his face blank, made a strange choking sound, uh-guhg—
“Why are you standing there like a fool?”
“Ah, I, well······.”
Sophien struck him on the shoulder with her fist.
Thwack—!
“Follow me.”
Then she walked with imposing dignity. Elegance dwelled in the clicking sound of her steps, and there was not a hair’s breadth of hesitation or sloth in her.
At long last, it was time for the Emperor to go out into the world.