Chapter 22
The Bell Tower (1)
The next place I visited after the tailor’s shop was the bell tower, which overlooked the plaza where the succession ceremony would be held.
I carefully examined the tower’s position, the angle of the view, and the sightlines before nodding to myself.
Yes, this place will do.
I was scouting locations for the performance that would take place during the ceremony.
Since this performance was for none other than Lucis, I was taking the trouble to inspect them personally.
Once I finished choosing the spot and before descending to the ground, I raised my head to take in the view of the city.
Because there were no buildings taller than this bell tower nearby, I could see far into the distance without obstruction.
What a massive city.
As befitted the capital of the Empire, Grenium boasted an overwhelming size.
The city stretched almost to the horizon, divided into countless districts: noble, commoner, commercial, and further subdivided into smaller administrative zones.
Its scale rivaled that of mid-sized modern cities back on Earth.
In the game, it was only ever described in a simplified way…
I gazed at the city for a long time.
The Imperial Palace, the Twelve Churches, the Mage Tower. Even the Mausoleum family’s townhouse could be seen from here.
Maintaining such a vast city must require an immense administrative force.
Law enforcement, sanitation, smooth trade for food supplies—there must be countless things to oversee and sustain.
The key point was that, when creating the game, I had never actually designed any of this in detail.
Back then, we had simply stated that this world was magically, culturally, administratively, and commercially advanced, and left it at that.
So is it that when the game became a real world, the missing details filled themselves in? Or was this world always here, and we only managed to capture fragments of it in our setting?
The age-old question: which came first, the chicken or the egg?
The gods first, or humanity first?
Since the day I fell into this world, the thought had never once left my mind.
“…Well, no matter how much I think about it, there’s no answer.”
After surveying Grenium a little longer, I turned to descend the bell tower.
“Greetings.”
A sudden voice stopped me in my tracks.
In the shadow of the staircase leading downward, a figure in tight-fitting leather armor and a pulled-down hood stood waiting.
“Seymour Mausoleum. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“…”
The figure chuckled, covering his mouth as though amused.
“You really are foolish, aren’t you? To stroll to such a deserted place… Do you not understand your own position?”
“From the underworld, are you?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Among my enemies in Grenium were those from the underworld.
To be precise, they were people who believed Seymour had risen to the position of “Pillar” only thanks to the former count’s influence.
They thought that if they killed me, they could replace me as the Pillar.
“I wondered when you’d show up.”
“…Excuse me?”
In truth, I had been baiting the underworld to appear.
That was why I had deliberately visited small, deserted churches and construction sites.
But when no one came, I dismissed my guards to the first floor and ascended the tower alone. Only then did they finally appear.
“You really are cowards. Well, I suppose rats that live in darkness wouldn’t be anything else.”
“…You mean to say you lured me out?”
“Yes. You catch rats before they bite.”
The underworld would bare its fangs at me eventually.
Unless I showed them I was not an easy target, they would keep trying.
And if I allowed that to happen when Lucis was with me, the consequences would be disastrous. That was why I had to cull them myself.
“Isn’t that right… Nadib the Acrobat?”
“…!”
At my words, the figure—Nadib—tightened his grip on the dagger in his hand.
I expected someone from the underworld to show up, but to see a familiar face…
Nadib the Acrobat.
In the original game, he was a mid-boss and one of the Clown Pillar’s lieutenants.
Grenium’s power structure was divided into three.
Above, the Twelve Churches, holding the power of the gods.
On the surface, the Imperial Palace and nobles, holding the power of men.
And beneath them, the underworld, holding discarded power.
The palace and nobility, forever quarreling over power, always left cracks for the underworld to thrive.
Because the palace and nobles pushed responsibility for suppressing the underworld onto each other, it had been left unchecked.
As decades passed, nobles and even royals began colluding with the underworld, until it became impossible to eradicate them.
And now, they’ve grown so strong that no one even dares attempt it.
Each Pillar of the underworld wielded strength equal to—or surpassing—a knight commander.
And, true to the underworld, they never fought fair, making them even more troublesome to face.
“Pledge to hand over the Pillar’s seat. Do that, and nothing has to happen here.”
Nadib warned, dagger still in hand. I answered without hesitation.
“I refuse.”
“…Are you serious?”
“I’m not someone accustomed to losing what I already possess.”
“You, who became a Pillar only thanks to your father’s shadow—what gives you such confidence?”
The fact that I could use magic was still only known within the family.
After all, it had only become possible after my contract with the Mausoleum.
“And you? What confidence do you have? Harming the heir to a high-ranking count’s seat will bring severe repercussions.”
“Oh, really? And who would punish us? The throne? The nobles? No, they’ll probably laugh, clap, and say you were struck down by divine retribution.”
He wasn’t wrong.
No one in Grenium would willingly weaken their own faction to punish the underworld for the sake of the villainous Mausoleum family.
On the contrary, since our family openly flaunted ties with the underworld, people would simply assume it was internal strife.
From beneath his hood, Nadib’s lips curled into a smirk.
“Besides, I imagine your own family would be delighted. They’d be fighting over who gets to be count.”
Just half a month ago, I probably would have agreed.
If I had died then, Richard Mausoleum surely would have claimed the seat, and perhaps even rewarded my killer.
“…Good. So neither of us intends to back down.”
I drew upon my mana.
“Then let’s stop talking and begin.”
This would be my second true battle since arriving in this world.
As I summoned mana, the world’s sensations dulled.
Everything except myself began to lose value and color, as though my vision had turned to black and white.
It’s fine.
I accepted the sensation rather than rejecting it.
After the rampage at the funeral banquet, I had studied ways to use magic without losing myself. In the end, I had found two methods.
First: when Lucis is by my side, Seymour within me is suppressed.
No matter how much mana I summoned while training with Lucis, Seymour never surfaced.
Perhaps due to the Mausoleum contract, but to him, Lucis was like a vaccine.
Second: become Seymour myself.
Do not resist or push away the sensations and emotions that come when I draw mana.
It’s like walking through the woods and brushing against a cobweb. The more you try to pull it off, the more it bunches together and forms something tangible.
Seymour within me was the same. The more I resisted, the clearer his form became as he drew near.
So it’s fine.
This was nothing more than the natural phenomenon of magic—power bound to the Mausoleum line.
I accepted it as it was.
Fwoosh—!
Nadib leapt onto the railing, springing high. From his hand, something shot at me.
Whoosh!
A dagger came flying with a sharp whistle.
Thunk!
Its trajectory bent under my gravity magic, and it struck the ground instead.
Landing across from me, Nadib sneered in amusement.
“Well, well. You can use magic? Or is that some new artifact?”
He slipped his hand into his cloak and withdrew it holding three daggers between his fingers.
“Let’s see how many you can block.”
Mana circuits glowed along his arm. I quickly read them.
First Circle: Guidance. First Circle: Telekinesis.
Circuits specialized for hurling daggers at a target.
Whoosh!
The daggers came much faster this time.
But speed alone couldn’t overcome gravity.
I poured more mana into the spell, and the blades clattered uselessly to the floor.
“Tch. Annoying.”
Realizing long-range wouldn’t work, Nadib rushed forward, drawing something from his waist.
The moment I recognized it as a whip, he lashed it at me.
Crack!
The whip struck—not my body—but the shield that shimmered around me.
“A shield artifact, huh? Nobles and their wasteful spending…”
Shield Artifacts.
One of the most expensive and best-selling items in Grenium, where public safety was always at risk.
They’re a top seller from the Mausoleum workshop, too.
As long as its battery held out, it automatically generated a shield to block any incoming damage.
Crack!
The whip lashed again, chewing at the shield’s surface.
Another circuit flared along Nadib’s arm.
Second Circle: Body Enhancement.
When I reached my hand toward him, Nadib vaulted up to the ceiling, hanging upside down as he mocked me.
“What’s the matter? Where’s your magic now? Can’t control this whip, can you?”
And again, he flung daggers.
Once more, I dragged them to the floor with gravity magic.
“Hm?”
He pulled out a glass vial and hurled it at my head.
Realizing it was poison, I quickly sidestepped, avoiding the impact.
“Aha!”
Nadib’s grin widened.
Like he had discovered a weakness.
“That’s the problem with pampered nobles who’ve never fought—they practically announce their limits for me!”
Kicking off the ceiling, Nadib lunged.
His arm circuits flared again.
Third Circle: Air Sword.
A formless blade appeared before his arm and slashed down at my shield.
“So—you can only control metal, huh? Ha ha ha!”
I scanned his entire body as he struck.
Guidance. Telekinesis. Body Enhancement. Air Sword.
No other circuits.
“Your shield’s battery won’t last much longer. Any last words?”
“It’s over.”
“Yeah, it’s over! You finally understa—”
With gravity magic, I hurled Nadib straight out the window.
“…What?”
A completely unexpected kind of attack, from a completely unexpected direction.
He was flung away absurdly easily.
“You thought I could only control metal?”
Looking into Nadib’s shocked, despairing eyes as he fell, I smirked.
“That’s what I wanted you to believe, fool.”
In the instant I guided his daggers, I had already finished analyzing his circuits.
All of his magic was tied to body reinforcement and weapon skills.
There was no way for him to survive being thrown from this height.
Listening to his fading scream below, I straightened my clothes.
Since I had monitored the shield artifact’s battery throughout the fight, I hadn’t taken so much as a scratch.
“I’ve won.”
Strangely enough, I felt no emotion at all.
