Chapter 164

CHAPTER 164. This Is What You Call Heoheo-Silsil

“In that case, I will leave you both to have a good time.”

Click.

The moment Ransi, who had escorted the pair inside, stepped out and closed the door, a heavy quiet took over the space.

“……”

Left alone with them, my gaze locked directly onto Chenbi.

The radiant morning beams washed across the room, giving the polished marble tiles a bright sheen.

The crisp, summery scent of greenery drifted past my nose, and the melodies of chirping birds drifted through the window like a pleasant tune, giving rise to a single realization.

‘If he’s lost his mind… he has completely lost it.’

“Aster, look at what I brought along to share with you. Observe, this is a sample of yellow soil I dug up from the peaks behind Brando. Out of every patch of earth I have sampled, this specific one is…”

With the careful precision of a jeweler displaying rare gems, he began pulling glass vials packed with dirt from the pockets of his coat. There was absolutely no way a sane person would do this.

It wasn’t just the bizarre display, either.

One look at his face said it all.

His eyes were half-vacant and wandering, and his lips were pulled upward in a completely forced grin. His countenance was as frozen and unnatural as a mannequin crafted from wax.

And yet, despite the spectacle—

My gut was telling me otherwise:

‘Chenbi… hasn’t actually lost his sanity.’

That wasn’t my only observation.

Narrowing my eyes, I shifted my focus toward Demian.

“My companion, during our time apart, I discovered the ways in which the political climate of the Empire drives the collective populace into madness. I also observed the peculiar varieties of sheep the noble houses pursue, and the exact breed of nourishment they offer to the public. Thus, I have become the very horn of that nourishing force, sprouting outward…”

He was rambling through what sounded like a grand, intellectual speech, but if you actually analyzed the phrasing, every single metaphor was completely mangled.

“The Empire’s political climate drives the collective populace into madness?”

He clearly meant to say it “influences the populace.”

“And what was that? Noble houses pursuing peculiar varieties of sheep?”

What aristocratic lineage spent its time chasing livestock—insane livestock, at that?

He obviously meant to say “ideals.”

“And as for nourishment… he doesn’t mean an actual animal. He is clearly trying to say impact.”

Even with the nonsense, there was a slight improvement.

His vocabulary had definitely expanded.

“Political climate,” “populace.”

Those weren’t typical terms for a twelve-year-old to casually throw around… though, looking at it closely, that was really only a couple of advanced words.

Setting that aside, I looked back toward Chenbi.

As I suspected, Chenbi wasn’t actually—

“Go ahead, taste it, Aster. This soil has quite a savory kick. If you rub a bit onto your knuckles like this and give it a lick…”

Never mind, perhaps he really had lost his mind.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he plunged his fingers right into the grime and licked it clean as if it were a rare delicacy.

They say the worst kind of lunatic is the one who devours dirt, and Chenbi was embodying that exact stereotype right in front of me.

Perhaps that was the trigger—

Tremble—

My hand began to shake.

And I had no intention of ignoring that physical urge.

What did it mean that I refused to ignore the urge?

It meant I launched my fist straight toward Chenbi.

“And this batch is… oof!”

I drove a heavy blow right into Chenbi’s jaw to prevent him from scooping up any more grime, offering him comfort from the bottom of my aching heart.

“Chenbi, hang in there. I am going to fix you up in no time.”

“A-Ast… that isn’t what…”

Chenbi collapsed backward, gripping his bruised face, desperately attempting to explain himself, but I blocked out his words.

‘The person standing before me right now is not Chenbi.’

It was a lunatic masquerading in Chenbi’s flesh.

And how exactly do you exorcise a lunatic?

“The old-timers always maintained that a solid club is the only medicine for a rabid dog. The terms for ‘dog’ and ‘man’ look nearly identical in script, so I will just have to double the number of strikes.”

“Aster, what in the world are you doing…!”

“Be quiet! Release your hold on Chenbi’s body, you demon!”

I unleashed all of my righteous fury through a barrage of punches.

The lunatic thrashed around wildly, attempting to break away from my range, but his efforts were entirely futile. My strikes had never once failed to connect with their intended mark.

“Do not panic, Chenbi. As the second-greatest master of rehabilitation across the entire continent, I am going to restore your senses.”

With that, the corrective thrashing commenced in earnest.

Right at that moment, the newly upgraded Prototype Demian stepped up to the scene.

“Chenbi, do not fear! I cannot comprehend what has occurred, but I shall assist in restoring you as well!”

Demian extended both of his palms, channeling restorative energy toward Chenbi. Had his capabilities actually advanced during the break? His already unbelievable healing artistry had somehow become even more staggering. Frankly, I lacked a grander adjective than “staggering,” so I simply tacked on an “even.”

Regardless, I gave a firm nod of approval as I watched his work.

“Demian, the restoration is going smoothly.”

Now, only Chenbi remained to be fixed.

“Bear through it, Chenbi. You have the strength to defeat this affliction.”

“Gah! Argh! Ast… Aster…”

“Chenbi! Maintain your resolve!”

For a significant duration, the chamber reverberated with the desperate wails of Chenbi… or rather, the wails of the lunatic possessing him.

Brushing the perspiration from my brow, a wave of satisfaction washed over me.

“Ah, that felt incredibly therapeutic.”

Everything was working out flawlessly.

The climate was spectacular, Demian had returned to his standard self, and Chenbi had endured a harrowing ordeal with admirable resilience.

To wrap things up, Chenbi’s therapeutic intervention had concluded as an absolute triumph.

Though, perhaps there was an unexpected residual effect from the treatment?

“……”

Chenbi was currently fixing me with an icy, incredibly focused glare that I had never once seen him manifest before.

Had the lunatic truly refused to leave his vessel? Feeling a pang of apprehension, I tightened my hand into a fist once more, but before I could strike, Chenbi’s voice sliced through the air, freezing cold.

“Drop the act. I have endured quite enough blows.”

“He speaks the truth, Chenbi took an absolute thrashing.”

“Demian, your character is even lower than his.”

“Are we talking recyclable waste?”

“……”

Chenbi dismissed Demian entirely with a single, exhausted glance.

Truthfully, I had seen through it from the beginning.

‘Chenbi hasn’t lost his wits, and Demian hasn’t altered his nature in the slightest.’

The realization had struck me the exact moment he began consuming the soil.

The reason?

A subtle aroma of sweet cocoa had begun wafting past my nose.

No matter how skillfully he had crafted the deception to perfectly mimic the appearance of earth, he couldn’t completely mask the scent.

‘They clearly wanted to pull a fast one on me since we haven’t crossed paths in a while…’

To tell the truth, I still failed to see what part of the routine was supposed to be entertaining.

Ah, so this is what people mean by the phrase “entertaining children.”

For a brief second, I felt a sense of… maturity. Not out of arrogance, mind you.

I was someone who had traveled back through time.

‘I am a fully realized adult.’

At any rate, once our chaotic greeting and roughhousing drew to a close, my attention naturally drifted back toward Demian.

“Companion, I harbor a strong dislike for being on the receiving end of a beating.”

“Demian, you do not fall into the recyclable category.”

“Oh, truly? In that case, do I get incinerated? Or am I left alone?”

“We will require a bit more observation to make that determination.”

“Then observe me carefully and provide an update.”

…What kind of utterly bizarre conversation was I even participating in.

In any case, as I studied Demian, a fresh realization entered my mind.

‘Come to think of it, Demian has yet to face his proper punis—No, that isn’t the point.’

What in the world had transpired over the course of these brief weeks?

I had picked up on it earlier, but Demian’s aura had shifted so radically that he felt like an entirely separate individual.

And the phenomenon wasn’t restricted to him alone.

‘…The same applies to Chenbi.’

The impression was simply masked by Demian’s far more striking transformation, but when juxtaposed with his past self, Chenbi had advanced to a degree that rendered him nearly unrecognizable.

The academic recess had only spanned what, a mere fortnight?

What kind of extraordinary phenomenon had they managed to experience?

Filled with wonder, I shifted my gaze back and forth between the pair, and that was the exact moment Demian fixed his eyes upon me.

Curiously, though—

“Companion, you appear to have remained entirely stagnant.”

“……”

What was the meaning of that look? I could explicitly detect a sense of condescending superiority radiating from his gaze.

More to the point, I had completely suppressed my internal energy—how on earth was Demian managing to gauge anything about me?

Granted, back when we initially enrolled in the institution, my capabilities were far lower, so he might have been able to formulate a vague hypothesis…

But this was entirely different.

The mystery didn’t linger for long.

The answer struck me almost instantly.

‘This little brat… he is assessing my physical stature.’

He was casting his eyes toward the crown of my head, taking a visual measurement.

Demian’s voice cut through the silence immediately after.

“Ransi informed me of the metric.”

“Oh? And what precisely did Ransi communicate?”

“That if an individual fails to gain height, they cannot truly be categorized as human. Yet, companion, you have not gained a single millimeter throughout this entire period.”

“……”

Before this day concludes, I am going to strike the young master of the Brando lineage.

I squeezed my hand into a tight fist.

“Pfft.”

A sharp chuckle escaped Chenbi’s lips.

My mouth twitched with irritation as I snapped my head toward him, prompting him to instantly wipe the amusement from his features and declare:

“I warned you already—he has reached his limit. If you launch another strike, I will genuinely lose my temper.”

What was the source of this sudden disconnect?

Chenbi had developed a crafty streak while I wasn’t paying attention. Demian had grown incredibly arrogant during my absence. And Brando, a highly respected magical lineage, was actively shutting me out.

I can fully comprehend the misery of navigating life within Lortel, a highly prestigious martial house. I truly can…

Yet I never anticipated enduring the exact same alienation inside a highly esteemed magical household.

‘Where exactly am I supposed to find my place.’

I turned my face upward to seek answers from the evening sky.

Instead, the blazing sun offered its greetings.

Glimmer, glimmer.

If a point of light glimmers, it is typically a distant star. However, the metallic tips of the instruments within the Lortel magic wing glimmered with an intensity that rivaled any celestial body.

Ah, a sudden wave of clarity washed over me.

Calming my turbulent emotions, a grin spread across my face, prompting Demian to inquire:

“Companion, have you completely lost your senses?”

I fixed my eyes on Demian and delivered a fundamental lesson regarding the nature of existence.

“Demian, pay close attention to my words. The individual who has lost their senses is not me; it is the environment around us. Should anyone ever accuse you of being a lunatic, this is the retort you must deliver.”

“That the lunatic is not myself, but rather the environment?”

“Absolutely not. In your specific scenario, you are explicitly a lunatic. What I am trying to convey is—if an individual inquires, ‘Has Aster lost his wits?’ that is the exact phrase you are meant to utilize.”

Upon hearing my explanation, Demian brought his palms together in applause, as though he had just unlocked some profound cosmic secret.

Then, turning toward Chenbi with a glowing countenance, he asked:

“Chenbi, does this individual qualify as the specific type of waste that resists incineration?”

“Hmm… it is quite comparable. Though, in my estimation, you share a fair number of similarities as well—”

Demian’s expression turned utterly rigid in an instant.

“Chenbi, refrain from insulting my character.”

“M-my apologies.”

Demian… what was the deal with this individual.

‘His demeanor possessed a strange sharpness just a moment ago.’

Perhaps that entire performance of straddling the boundary between a wild creature and a civilized man was actually a highly sophisticated deception designed to mislead onlookers.

If that wasn’t the explanation, then…

Just as my train of thought reached that conclusion—

Demian offered a radiant grin and locked his eyes onto mine.

“Indeed, companion. Were you aware?”

“Aware of what.”

“The current date marks the anniversary of my birth.”

“…And your point is?”

Demian’s gaze began to shimmer.

Staring into those bright eyes, a deeply familiar sensation washed over me.

No—to be completely precise, looking at the miniature reflection of my own face inside Demian’s pupils, I recognized a familiar archetype.

My deceptive older brother who had once offered me a token of his supposed devotion.

His deceptive nature perfectly aligned with the reflection of myself visible in Demian’s gaze.

And this underlying sense of dread—

“On the anniversary of one’s birth, it is customary to receive tokens of appreciation.”

—was consistently accurate.

But who exactly was I dealing with?

The preeminent master of tactical evasion throughout the entire Eastern Continent.

Relaxing my posture, I deliberately took a slow sip of my warm beverage and let out a chuckle.

“You speak the absolute truth. On the anniversary of a birth, tokens of appreciation must be distributed. In that case, what exactly have you organized to hand out?”

“…Organized to hand out?”

“It is the celebration of your birth, is it not? And on such celebrations, tokens of appreciation are distributed.”

“True, that is… accurate?”

“In that case, shouldn’t the individual celebrating their birth be the one distributing the tokens of appreciation? Contemplate the logic. For what reason does your household stage a grand feast on the anniversary of your birth? Were you truly ignorant of the fact that it all stems from the exact same principle?”

“That is… the actual reasoning behind it?”

“Precisely, that is exactly how the custom functions. Therefore, what token do you intend to bestow upon me?”

Demian’s eyes flickered with intense uncertainty.

I let out a triumphant smirk.

‘Take that, you arrogant little brat!’

If you truly possessed a sharp intellect, you would easily dismantle the logical fallacies within my claim and counter my argument.

But you are incapable.

Without a truly calculating mind, it is a literal impossibility. And even if you do possess that sharpness, as long as you refuse to discard that facade of yours…

“Chenbi, did you witness that display?”

“Indeed, I witnessed it clearly.”

“This is the exact phenomenon individuals refer to as absolute nonsense.”

…Confound it all.

Regardless of the outcome, a single fact had been thoroughly solidified in my mind.

‘He is far more formidable than I initially calculated.’

I would no longer be capable of manipulation as effortlessly as I had done in the past. The concept of the newly upgraded Prototype Demian was far from a meaningless title.

At any rate, I nursed my wounded confidence resulting from the unanticipated setback.

Meanwhile, Demian steered the conversation right back to the initial matter.

“Therefore, what of the token of appreciation?”

This catch caught me completely off guard.

I was under the distinct impression that Ransi had indicated Demian placed very little importance on the anniversary of his birth…

“Is it possible you failed to arrange anything whatsoever? I refrained from raising the issue myself, under the assumption that Ransi would have dropped a hint regarding the matter…”

Yes, your hypothesis is entirely correct.

I had failed to arrange a single item.

However—

“A token… naturally, I have a magnificent one prepared.”

“Truly?”

“Without a doubt.”

When it comes to a token of appreciation, the underlying sentiment holds the greatest value.

To put it another way, for a materially affluent individual like Demian, a token infused with pure, intangible sentiment was the absolute perfect choice.

So what item would satisfy that criteria?

“Ahem.”

I cleared my throat with deliberate emphasis.

I even took a moment to moisten my lips.

“As you are well aware, I hold ownership of a Tower. I shall grant you dominion over an entire floor.”

This was the absolute embodiment of heoheo-silsil—the art of mixing the false with the genuine.

A tactical maneuver wherein one leverages an empty promise to secure a tangible advantage, volunteering a piece of future real estate to extricate oneself from an immediate dilemma. Naturally, I was simply applying the grand terminology to a cheap trick.

In any event.

If I assumed the mantle of the primary Tower Lord, that would effectively render Demian the inaugural Floor Lord.

“The highest level?”

“Absolutely not.”

Not a chance in the world, kid.