Chapter 189

Chapter 189
Chapter 189
## Chapter 189: Delirium (7)

“I have come with the purpose of eliminating the 6-star Confusion Mage.”

Despite the audacity of his words, Kochella remained unmoved. He stayed on the sofa, holding his chin with a thoughtful gesture, trying to unravel the meaning behind Ryner’s unexpected and strange offer.

“Linerus Dartnayle Belmiere. I seem to recall you at a prayer ceremony at Cramton Abbey quite some time ago. Your appearance has taken a radical turn since then.”

“In those days, I was still an inexperienced young man. It is an honor that you keep me in your memory, Elder Kochella.”

“I possess an impeccable memory. Being the firstborn of the Belmière family, I kept track of you. It seems that fate has treated you harshly. You seem… a bit more detached than before.”

The Ryner that Kochella evoked was far from this serene figure. In the past, his red hair had an impeccable cut above his shoulders, and his firm jaw betrayed an ambition that burned in his eyes. Attired in the finery befitting the aristocracy, he faithfully represented the young and bright promise of an illustrious lineage.

However, the individual in front of him was a neglected fellow, with several days’ growth of beard and a strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes, almost unrecognizable as a noble. His red hair, now straight and unkempt, fell in disorder, though he showed himself indifferent, lifting his face with a defiant pride.

“Life puts tests in front of us all. I will not dedicate myself to raking up what happened in the Belmière family.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. The usual drama of a noble lineage.”

Ryner’s voice sounded broken. His ragged clothes were marked by stains and dirt accumulated over the passing of days.

“I had yearnings that were not fulfilled. So I wandered aimlessly for a time. In the end, I understood that this way of life suited me. And here you have me.”

Kochella maintained his reservations. Noticing this, Ryner let out a dry laugh and took a seat across from him. They were in the room where the monarch was murdered. Both remained silent, measuring each other with their gazes, trying to penetrate the other’s mind. In this place, intentions are read in the eyes; cheap tricks do not work before the Chief Magic Advisor of the Gremfort Palace.

Finally, Ryner relaxed his posture and spoke with total sincerity.

“I wish to become a hero.”

Kochella holds a deep admiration for those who possess extraordinary magical gifts. However, Ryner did not fit that description; at most, he possessed an intermediate-level skill of a single star.

For the eldest son of the Belmière family, his existence was merely average. That was not enough. It was not hard to guess why he ended up wandering. The weight of the lineage can break anyone. But Kochella’s judgment was only half right.

“My mother was a woman of the people. My brother Leonard’s mother as well. Of the three of us… only Elennate possesses pure royal blood.”

He had just vented the most bitter secret of the Belmière family. To Kochella, he acted like a gambler putting his cards on the table, trusting that this confession would capture his interest. And so it did. The dishonor of the Belmières became his bargaining chip.

“My father was on the front lines long before he was named Count of the Frontier. You know how it is; combatants in distant lands often… have fleeting romances with the locals.”

Amidst the carnage and the fields filled with the fallen, soldiers often seek solace in brothels or extramarital adventures. Most forget those youthful slips and leave them behind when the war ends.

However, the Belmière county could not do that. The Count took his illegitimate children, Ryner and Leonard, to the family home, resolved to take charge. Incredibly, the kind Countess loved those children equally, training them as full-fledged nobles. That is why Ryner revered her, even without sharing a blood tie.

“And what about… your biological mother?”

“She passed away a long time ago. She was a woman of the battlefields who had a miserable existence. Asking for longevity in her situation was an impossible dream.”

Ryner’s smile exuded bitterness.

“Even so, she left peacefully knowing that I would have a comfortable life at Belmiere Manor. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? To die in misery and, even so, use her last savings to put me on a boat to the continent.”

“…”

“Because of that, I forged an unbreakable pride. I would be a half-breed noble, but I would not allow anyone to trample on me.”

And so it happened. In a society that idolizes lineages, he set out to prove that everyone was wrong. Kochella remembered that fierce determination. That impeccable Ryner from the monastery radiated an iron will. The purity of blood did not matter before his desire for self-improvement. That Kochella remembered him was not by chance; the young man had left a deep mark.

But the outcome of that ambition was evident.

“Great yearnings do not always end in glory,” Ryner commented with irony.

His sister is Elennate. A young woman marked by divinity as the successor to the sovereign. A pure-blooded aristocrat who manifested magical gifts at the age of ten. With regret, Ryner had to accept that she surpassed him in every attribute necessary for command.

“You understand it, Elder Kochella. There are those who break their backs trying to reach the summit without success, while others, born in absolute poverty, ascend beyond 4 stars and aim for 5.”

“Those who are extraordinary are destined for heroism.”

There was no resentment in Ryner’s words. That phase had already been left behind. Only the coldness of a gambler measuring what was more profitable remained.

“If you are going to bet, let it be on that kind of person.”

Kochella understood that the ambitious young man had vanished. The man in front of him was a gambler looking for an edge, jumping from table to table, taking his share before withdrawing.

*

“D-Derek…?”

“Miss Aiselin?”

When Derek left behind his intention to eliminate the magic advisor who was being controlled, a familiar figure emerged from among the trees. He had just left the hall to lure the confusion mage. Despite having ordered them to remain with Princess Roselyn, Aiselin had followed him.

“Forgive me. I was very restless…”

“…How did you get out of the main hall?”

“Through a quick access. It’s not complicated; I know every corner of the academy.”

Having studied the blueprints of the Ravenclaw Academy, leaving the main building was simple for her. Under the moonlight, Derek mentioned that his lure failed: the witch didn’t take the bait, perhaps detecting that his threat regarding the Book of Hatred was a deception.

“I see… It was just a distraction…”

“It is not yet time to use the Book. We haven’t reached that point.”

“But…!”

Aiselin stopped, showing an uncommon firmness in her usually serene countenance. In the gloom of the forest, she bit her lip and demanded:

“Don’t… play with the idea of dying. Even if it’s for strategy, you should have told me…”

“…”

“I thought you were really going to give your life for those nobles… That would have been… too painful.”

“I am sorry. But any prior warning could have reached the confusion witch.”

Derek felt compassion seeing Aiselin’s anguish; he did not foresee that she would look for him with such desperation. The return to the hall was silent. Aiselin walked with her head down, ashamed of her reaction. To relieve the tension, Derek resumed the conversation.

“It is not strange that the witch did not appear. I was convinced that they would take the bait…”

“I understand. And what if you really use the book?”

“Why don’t they show themselves?”

While walking along the path, both were lost in their reflections. The buildings that took so much effort to raise were there, silent. Although they now looked deserted, in spring they had been the heart of learning. Aiselin let out a long sigh.

“I never imagined this place as the scene of a crime. The main corridor is destroyed, and the entrance to the Amaryllis House was stained with blood…”

“It is something temporary. Once this is over, we will open as planned.”

“We must do it. For all our sacrifice.”

Clenching her fists, Aiselin observed the structures.

“We will end this… and we will return to normal as if nothing happened.”

“Of course.”

“But to find the person responsible… Do you have any idea? It must be almost impossible…”

“It is likely. First, I must question Princess Roselyn.”

“…Really? She seemed very exhausted a little while ago…”

Since Derek was the only one immune to the witch, if he found her and then forgot about it, Roselyn would notice. No 6-star mage could erase her memories. That meant she was keeping a secret.

‘…’

There was something that did not fit. Roselyn lost her father because of that witch. It made no sense that she was hiding information; she would want justice at all costs. And yet, she did not tell Derek everything. What was the reason?

“…Derek?”

“…I was just meditating.”

After a brief silence, Derek analyzed the situation. There was only one reason for Roselyn’s silence: that speaking would be useless. Suddenly, a cold sensation ran through his body.

Thinking like Roselyn: Her father, Emperor Gertrel, was murdered. The culprit is a being of terrifying power. Whether hidden among the people or in plain sight, capturing them is a titanic task.

But what would happen if Derek, using his wit, located the witch? It would be useless. A master of chaos would erase everyone’s memory, eliminating the progress. Everything would be in vain. Even the restlessness would disappear.

Only Roselyn would remember. She would know who the murderer is, but no one would believe her. And the cycle would repeat over and over again. No matter how many times she pointed to the culprit, oblivion would prevail. Maintaining the coherence of hundreds of minds would be exhausting if Roselyn were a reference point, so the easiest thing is to erase it all.

Measuring oneself against a 6-star confusion mage is fighting against an unjust force. Derek swallowed hard remembering the previous night. His memories were misty. It was incredible that he hadn’t noticed it before; such was the magnitude of that magic. Without a conscious effort, the difference was imperceptible. That strange sensation that time was dilating after the regicide was just the trace of erased memories.

How many times had they wiped his mind? What battles had the princess fought on these nights? She, consumed by the desire for revenge… why was she so exhausted? It was not just a lack of sleep.

She had tried to unmask the murderer repeatedly, always failing. Any message, note, or clue was intercepted and erased. They were like actors in an already written play, unable to act even if the murderer was in front of them.

From her place observing the hall, she was not watching, but contemplating the culprit hidden among the guests. Someone too strong to defeat and whom she could not denounce. After three nights, the spell would break and the witch would escape. Her enemy was there, but she was in an invisible prison: an eternal loop of futility.

Everything fit. Derek took out the letter that Roselyn gave him before leaving the hall. “An imperial blessing. The style of the heroes Rosenheim and Kalimford in the Levelten desert.”

It was a farce to protect the real message: a new attempt to reveal the murderer. What did it really say?

“Derek, what do those letters say…?”
“…”

Derek opened it and his eyes widened in astonishment. How could he have overlooked something so obvious?

[Aiselin Eleanor Duplein is currently off duty on leave. – Roselyn]

“I will be temporarily absent to rediscover my identity. I will return in a week.”

Before the inspection began, Aiselin had left and Derek took her place. She was not even present at the event. But the memory had been ripped from everyone’s mind.

Aiselin Eleanor Duplein. It was impossible for her to be there. Derek looked up. In the moonlit clearing, Aiselin’s eyes emitted a supernatural glow under the silvery radiance.

“Well, well.”

A dark and reddish energy began to sprout from her back.

“It seems I will have to erase this as well.”

— Crack!

Derek jumped backward, launching a mana projectile directly at her.