The island is still peaceful. Daily life continues as it did yesterday.
Sylvia tours the island with Deculein, shows him the paintings she has made, paints Deculein’s portrait, and eats dinner with him.
Slice, slice—
The knife cutting her bison calf steak for her. The refinement with which he pours and drinks red wine.
She carefully commits all of it to memory—his habits, his actions, his manner of speech.
“A life lived amid falsehood is meaningless.”
Of course, Deculein says whatever he likes far too freely.
The words are not much different from those of “the Deculein she painted yesterday,” but he seems so real that it makes her angry, and she misses him all the more.
Her days at the Mage Tower.
The short little girl who had received Deculein’s teachings.
The young mage who admired and liked him.
“Tomorrow, or the day after. I will come until you are ready to leave. This journey will not be a long one.”
The Deculein of now coldly leaves the restaurant, but Sylvia does not bother to hold him back. Half a day is enough time for paint to dry, so it is safe.
Srrrk—
The restaurant door closes, and Sylvia murmurs softly.
“Goodbye.”
“……How long do you intend to keep doing this?”
At that moment, Idnik appears from inside the restaurant kitchen.
Sylvia looks back at her. Idnik silently raises an eyebrow.
“You said Idnik could leave whenever she wanted.”
“No master leaves her disciple behind.”
Idnik sits across from her. Then she picks up the steak Deculein had taken a bite of. Sylvia stares fixedly at it.
“And besides, chances to research a magical space like this don’t come often.”
Idnik tries to spear it with her fork and eat it.
Sylvia reaches out and stops her.
“……Why?”
She furrows her brow.
“Deculein was eating that.”
“Ah, I don’t mind. I—”
“No.”
Sylvia firmly shakes her head. She quickly turns his plate toward herself.
Idnik lets out a disbelieving laugh.
“Hah. So, you’re going to eat that?”
“Eat mine instead.”
“What kind of way is that to speak?”
“Please eat it.”
She gives her own plate to Idnik. Idnik chews through it with a smack.
Sylvia, too, spears the steak with her fork.
Gulp—
As she looks at the meat, she swallows for no reason. The thing Deculein had just been eating……
“You little thing. You look like a pervert. Just eat it.”
“…….”
Sylvia clears her throat for no reason. She puts the steak in her mouth as if it is nothing and asks,
“What do you think, Idnik?”
“Of what?”
“Painting Deculein.”
“I don’t think much of it.”
“……You haven’t thought much of it for five years.”
Time flows differently in the Voice. But being slow, or being fast, does not make it better.
It is true that she has grown by the measure of the five years she has spent here, but in the end, her lifespan has only shortened.
At that, Idnik gives a faint smile.
“You’re going to be persuaded by Deculein anyway, so what’s the point?”
“Hmph.”
“The very reason you’re asking like that in the first place is because you know, in truth, that you’re going astray, isn’t it?”
“…….”
“A disciple may go astray. But it is a master’s duty to set her right before she derails completely.”
Before long, Idnik has finished the steak. Wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin, she rises from her seat.
“I’ll be going now. I’ll do some of that magic research I couldn’t finish yesterday. Give my regards to Ciel.”
“Idnik.”
Sylvia stops Idnik as she is about to leave. Idnik looks back with her hand on the restaurant doorknob.
“Ciel isn’t fake.”
“…….”
“Ciel knows. That she is someone who has already died.”
All the residents who were already dead, yet revived within the Voice, do not know that they are dead.
Ciel is different.
Idnik’s expression hardens for a moment. But soon she chuckles and shakes her head.
“……If it were that Deculein bastard, he’d probably say this.”
Ahem—a cough to clear her throat, and then an imitation of his voice.
“Even if that statement is true, she is still fake.”
“……Get out.”
Idnik chuckles and opens the door. She leaves the restaurant and starts down the slope—
“…….”
In that instant, her heart stops.
Because Deculein is standing there as if leaning against the far side of the wall. His blue eyes gleam like an owl’s even in the middle of the night.
He glances at her and asks,
“What are you so startled by?”
“Were you eavesdropping?”
Idnik is quite flustered. Sylvia’s daily life is fixed, but this Deculein’s behavior is different from “yesterday’s Deculein.”
His memories should have been reset.
“I did hear it. But I had grasped it before then.”
“……Already?”
Deculein nods.
“Idnik. Am I fake right now?”
Idnik cannot bring herself to open her mouth.
A fake who has realized that he is fake. A being who has realized that he is not a being.
What words can she possibly say to such a pitiful soul—
“It does not matter.”
“……Hm?”
At the unexpected words, Idnik tilts her head. But Deculein is truly calm.
“Guide me anywhere. I have something to say to you.”
* * *
I arrived at Idnik’s house.
It was some kind of cave.
“……It is stuffy.”
The outskirts of the island, far from the village. Even there, a post hidden underground. The only light is a single lamp, and the entire space consists of a creaking wooden bed, a wooden table, and a wooden desk, with earthen dust drifting through the air.
Idnik says,
“These are precious items. Be careful not to break them.”
“You call this trash precious?”
“Trash? These are ‘real.’ Real, physical objects, untouched in the slightest by Sylvia and the power of the Voice. It was hard to gather even this much.”
Looking at the worn-out desk, I ask,
“Is there a reason you insist on staying in a place like this?”
“Because of erosion. It varies from person to person, but in a day or two, you get eroded. You lose your memories. Sit.”
She dusts off an earth-covered chair with her hand.
……I am about to sit on it, then stop.
“If one loses their memories.”
“You become like the residents out there.”
“How many residents are there?”
“Hm? Ahoy~ I did a little census once.”
Idnik takes an old sheet of paper from a drawer.
“The area of this island is 1,500.2 square kilometers. Even that’s growing larger by the day, and the population is around five hundred thousand.”
It is quite enormous. Comparable to Jeju Island, with its population of six to seven hundred thousand.
“But of those, three hundred thousand are from outside, meaning the continent. Among them, those who think this island is their hometown—in other words, those who have ‘forgotten themselves’—number two hundred ninety thousand.”
“……So only ten thousand remain.”
“That was a survey from two years ago by the Voice calendar. More than half of those ten thousand have probably forgotten by now. Holding out like this is quite hard.”
“Voice calendar.”
I am dumbfounded.
“Yes, you brat. Voice calendar. Time is different from the continent, isn’t it? And here, my house. Does it look shabby and shitty to you?”
Contrary to her words, Idnik strokes the desk with a satisfied face.
“But there’s no one living as well as I am. By this standard, I’m a noble. Most of the ‘real’ resources have been smashed or worn away.”
“Where did those ‘real resources’ come from?”
Idnik takes off her robe and hangs it on a coat rack.
“There was originally an island here. Dehlen Island, it was called. About ten thousand people lived on it, but the Voice gobbled it right up. So, we’re still using that island’s resources. Same for food.”
“How do you distinguish real from fake?”
“With mana, what else? Sylvia’s Three Primary Colors basically implement…… no, ‘create’ texture and color perfectly, but it’s still incomplete. So if you look into it with mana, you can see a little of the nature of an ‘oil painting.’ In the end, it’s paint. No, but why aren’t you sitting?”
I say,
“Because it is dirty. Do you live without cleaning? 「Cleanse」 would suffice.”
“If I use magic at night, I’ll get caught.”
“……By whom?”
“The vigilantes.”
Answering so, Idnik puts on a deliberately frightened expression.
“Fanatics of the Voice. Monsters. Bastards who catch adventurers and try to erase their memories.”
“…….”
For some reason, I find this Idnik pitiable.
“Why are you looking at me like that? How annoying.”
“I am pitying you and finding you pathetic, wondering how Idnik, Rohakan’s disciple, ended up like this.”
“……You’re a madman. And I told you several times, I’m not his disciple. We had a horizontal and equal relationship. You, what did you hear from that old man? No. I’ll tell you myself instead…….”
Idnik chatters on endlessly with an angry face.
Idnik and Rohakan’s past history. The missions they undertook together. Without me, Rohakan would have died hundreds of times over. Even though it was ridiculous to see him act like a master after all that, I endured it…….
She recites all of it.
“I believe you. You are not fake.”
I acknowledge it. Idnik crosses her arms and smirks.
“You were doubting—”
At that moment, Idnik’s words break off. She quietly looks up at the ceiling of the cave.
At the same time, an eerie sound seeps in.
Hiihei hiihei hiihei hiihei hii……
A resonance like nails scraping across a chalkboard. An ominously sinking current of cold air.
“……It’s gone.”
After about five minutes, Idnik says.
With an embarrassed face, she adds,
“Ahem. I know I sound pathetic saying this, but they’re scary bastards. Their faces look fucking awful too, and first of all, their numbers make no sense.”
“Enough. Do you have a map of the island?”
“A map?”
I nod.
“Why?”
“You said I am fake.”
Idnik’s expression hardens. This time, Idnik seems to pity me, but a smile instead rises to my lips.
“If I am fake, should I not help the real one come here?”
* * *
Dawn before sunrise. Idnik’s cave is still cramped.
Sitting at the single desk, looking at the map of the island, Deculein is studying. He is thinking through magical theory.
The theory of a great spell that will temporarily neutralize the waves of the Voice and allow the “real” Deculein’s swim to reach this place.
“So, you mean to draw a magic circle on this island?”
Idnik asks.
Deculein answers,
“That is correct.”
“If you’re found out, it’ll be damaged immediately.”
“You are managing not to be found out.”
“……True.”
Idnik nods in agreement, then suddenly asks as if probing,
“If Sylvia catches you doing it, you’ll be disposed of right away.”
“Then Sylvia will make another me. That one can continue.”
“……Hah.”
He says it as if he is going out for a stroll.
Idnik lets out a hollow laugh.
“You’re something else too. Aren’t you scared that you’re fake?”
“Why would I be scared?”
Deculein draws a circle on the map. It is a circle that encompasses most of the island’s area.
“My only goals are to destroy the demon and take Sylvia out of here.”
Words filled with certainty. A vow imbued with conviction.
Idnik scratches the back of her neck.
“……That’s a relief. Is there anything I can help with?”
At that, Deculein’s pencil stops for a moment. He looks at Idnik with an indifferent face.
“If I die or disappear, give this map to the next me. That is all.”
“…….”
Words telling her to pass it on to the next him, tossing aside his own death like a piece of scrap, without the slightest expression or emotion.
That attitude irritates Idnik a little.
“Forget it. How can a disciple of Rohakan have so little spirit? Shut up, and don’t talk about dying. Your memories reset every time you die. Charge forward thinking that once you die, it’s over…….”
* * *
……Once more, the imperial capital where a knife-like wind rages.
Late at night.
Immediately after finishing her audience with His Majesty, Yulie joined them in a secret chamber of the Imperial Palace. It was a hidden room prepared by a secret helper within the palace.
“Miss Ahan. Thank you for your cooperation.”
The secret helper is Ahan, Sophien’s personal maid.
Yulie offers her hand. Ahan answers with a solemn face.
“……I must return to His Majesty quickly. I will give you this key, so use the secret room whenever you need. If anything happens, tell me. I will help you to the best of my ability. The power of the palace ladies is not as weak as everyone thinks.”
……Ahan had received the order, “Pretend to cooperate with Yulie—”
The one who gave that order was, of course, Emperor Sophien.
Yulie draws in a breath with a deeply moved expression.
“Thank you. I will make certain never to disappoint you.”
“……Yes. Professor Deculein is truly a wicked man, so I too…….”
With innate acting talent, Ahan lowers her head as if she cannot bear to continue speaking.
Portray Deculein as the greatest evil under heaven.
This, too, was Sophien’s order.
“I know. You are Miss Ahan, who has seen that man all this time in the Imperial Palace, are you not?”
But Yulie, who does not know this, comforts Ahan as if she understands everything, as if she knows.
“……Yes.”
Ahan killed the emotions welling up inside him. He severed guilt and pity.
To be of help to Her Majesty, he too needed to become cold and cruel.
“Also…… this.”
Ahan took a sealed envelope from within his coat. Yuli asked back, her face tense.
“What is it?”
“It is evidence that will aid you in your assignment, Sir Knight.”
“……Evidence.”
Yuli’s eyes widened. Ahan beckoned for her to come closer. She willingly lowered her head.
—That the one behind the attempted poisoning…… may be “Yukline.”
A voice whispered by her ear.
In that instant, Yuli’s fist clenched tight, and a rough breath escaped her.
“……I see.”
Yuli said, taking one step back.
The knight’s eyes were now set with a solemnity as if she were stepping onto a battlefield, yet when she looked at Ahan, they melted with boundless softness.
“I will be sure to repay this.”
“Bringing down the Professor will be the greatest repayment. Also, it is only a tying together of past court ladies’ rumors with minor physical evidence, so a detailed investigation will be necessary.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Gratitude filled with sincerity. The knight’s loyalty, plainly felt.
At this point, even Ahan found it difficult to face Yuli’s gaze head-on.
“……Then I shall take my leave.”
If he lingered for no reason, he might arouse suspicion.
“Yes. Please take care on your way. If by any chance you are being watched—”
“It’s all right. I have an escort as well.”
“An escort……?”
“Yes. It’s not as though the Professor has ambushed me only once or twice. He must have disliked that I was growing close to Her Majesty.”
“……So he was still committing such shameless acts.”
In that instant, Yuli’s eyes sank coldly. Her white hair billowed like frost.
“Shh. Go back now.”
“Yes. I will not forget. Never.”
After sowing discord to the very end, Ahan turned away, and Yuli rejoined her “team.”
“…….”
The anti-Deculein alliance gathered in the secret room.
Ahan glanced sidelong, confirming each of their faces.
Isaac, Gawain, Beorad, and the others…… everyone who had lamented Deculein’s tyranny was there.
No, they were the ones Sophien had “deliberately” gathered.
Even if it meant spreading Deculein’s ill reputation through the world, even if it meant making the court ladies curse Deculein day and night, even if it meant leaking the lie that the Emperor found Deculein displeasing.
To that extent, Her Imperial Majesty desired Yuli’s purge. She wished for the annihilation of Freyden.
A ruin from which recovery was impossible.
Ahan knew that scenario as well. Her Majesty had told him directly.
……If Yuli were to tentatively name “Yukline” as the one behind the attempted poisoning, such a shocking claim would spread across the entire continent in an instant—and at that very moment.
Sophien would reveal the “fabrication of evidence” and correct the truth once again.
That the one behind the attempted poisoning was, in fact, Freyden.
And that Yuli was a shameless wretch who had framed Deculein with perjury.
In that way, the relationship between the two would be shattered beyond repair.
Into a catastrophe where they had no choice but to kill and be killed, into a mire from which they could never escape.
“……Farewell.”
Ahan murmured quietly and closed the door to the secret room.
For Yuli, who was approaching hell—no, who was being “pushed” toward it—he recited a brief prayer.