I sighed and followed the priest.
Prom climbed all the way up to the Grand Altar with a staggering gait, as if drunk on medicine or alcohol, then spread his arms wide and raised his voice.
“Descendant of the Void Dragon! You dare approach me—the overseer of all contracts and witness to all covenants—with a request?”
“Yes.”
“You, the Mausoleum family, the criminals among criminals, dare request something from me, one of the greatest gods worshiped in the church?!”
“…Yes.”
“You, a mere descendant of the massacring Dragon of Light, a minor offshoot of the Mausoleum! You wish to personally petition Prom, the cleverest and greatest among the Twelve Gods?!”
“…Yes.”
For context, in the original work, this part simply listed the protagonist’s titles.
The longer the titles got in the late game, the more impressive the display—but for the Mausoleum family, it was nothing but irritating.
“Ha ha ha! Fine! Speak! What is it that you desire?”
“I want to see the contract from two months ago at the mausoleum again.”
I braced myself as I spoke.
From now on, I had to be sharp. I wanted to get what I desired while paying as little as possible…
“Very well!”
“…Yes?”
“I shall show it to you!”
Before Prom could wave his hand, I urgently asked,
“Wait. What is the price?”
“The price?”
A wide, ominous grin spread across Prom’s face, almost tearing the corners of his mouth to his earlobes.
“None.”
“….”
“For this one time, I will show it to you for free, out of mercy.”
My eyebrows knitted together instinctively.
Impossible. A god of this world performing a miracle without a price?
The same gods who would instantly sever divine power at even the slightest disrespect from their priests?
“This is ominous. What kind of contract…?”
But before I could say anything else, Prom waved his hand in the air.
At once, the “background” around us changed.
It was the Mausoleum Mausoleum.
The gods of this world can perform many miracles.
One of Prom’s signature miracles is the ability to transport himself to the location whenever a contract or covenant is mentioned.
The second is the ability to show any contract he has witnessed like a recorded playback.
In other words, he can freely display a “recollection god” of covenants or contracts.
Shhrrr-
When Prom waved his hand, the place where we were standing changed instantly, as if a background layer had been swapped.
A dark, dust-covered interior.
Moss-covered stone pillars and a ceiling made of a single large rock.
Although I had never been there, I knew where this was—I had seen the concept art.
“The Mausoleum Mausoleum.”
Then, someone suddenly burst through my body and shouted.
Mausoleum! I demand a contract!
It was me. No, Seymour.
Seymour’s eyes blazed red as he scanned the interior.
His top button was undone, and his hair was messy, giving him a slightly unhinged look.
“Just before I possessed him, when threats from the dark streets and collateral families came after the sudden death of the previous count.”
Yet even with his disheveled and irritable appearance, his natural handsomeness was undeniable.
In fact, this fierce face was closer to the Seymour I had originally designed than the calm face I see in the mirror every day. It was him.
The fact that the mausoleum doors are open means you, too, desire something from me! As a descendant of the cursed line, I boldly demand a contract!
The height of arrogance.
Words too abstract for a mere human daring to bargain with a dragon.
But that was Seymour.
A man who distrusted and hated everything but himself.
A man who, if given the power and time, would have killed the protagonist and burned the entire world.
The reincarnation of the Dragon of Light, Mausoleum. A man who could have been that.
That was Seymour.
Fwooo-
The wind sucked into the mausoleum. It was the movement of divine power, yet it resembled the breath before someone speaks.
Descendant.
A deep, low voice, like a giant cavern opening.
It was Mausoleum.
What is your name?
Seymour.
What do you want from me, Seymour?
A conversation with the ghost of the past, whose face couldn’t even be seen.
But Seymour was neither scared nor intimidated, and he voiced his desire.
Power.
A simple, plain statement, without embellishment.
Yet it was the same desire countless people had voiced throughout history.
Very well.
Gugugugu-
With Mausoleum’s consent, the long-dormant power within the mausoleum began to stir.
Black mist seeped from the floor, the walls, and the ceiling.
The viscous, almost liquid-like mist slithered down the pillars, filling the floor, and eventually climbed onto Seymour’s body.
Gulp, gulp-
A person with a weak stomach might have turned away, but Seymour greedily consumed it as if it were the sweetest honey.
Hoo…
After swallowing the last drop of mist, Seymour slowly clenched and unclenched his fists.
Black power rippled in his grip.
Heh heh heh… Ha ha ha ha!
Seymour, born without innate power, finally held divine power in his hands.
He shouted into the air with eyes glinting with madness.
Mausoleum! What is the price for this power?
His stance: willing to pay any price, afraid of nothing.
Meanwhile, Mausoleum remained silent for a long time.
Srrr-
Once again, black mist rose from the floor. Where it cleared, a child lay in a cradle.
Seymour approached and roughly lifted the child by the neck of their clothes.
I recognized the child. It was Lucis.
Seymour turned the child in his arms, checking front and back, and asked,
Who is this child? A hidden descendant of the White Dragon? Your secret daughter? Do you wish to grant her the happy life you could not give?
No.
This silence lasted longer than before.
When Mausoleum finally spoke, I realized why Prom had demanded no price.
Kill the child.
I gritted my teeth.
That is the price of the contract.
Prom’s recollection ended there.
Prom waved his hand again, retracting the miracle.
The moss-covered Mausoleum Mausoleum vanished in an instant, and we returned to the church, bathed in the harsh glow of the sunset.
“….”
I looked up at Prom.
His grin stretched almost to his earlobes, making my blood boil with rage.
“So this is what ‘fun’ means.”
The gods of this world were twisted.
Having lived countless years with nearly invincible power, they had little empathy.
Unable to feel normal emotions or sensations, they chased only distorted pleasures.
“This contract is so entertaining that even a price is unnecessary…?”
The life of an innocent child hung in the balance.
Yet to them, it was mere amusement.
“Filthy bastard.”
I clenched my teeth.
I wasn’t sure if my anger was directed at the lunatic before me, or at the bastard in the mausoleum.
“You’ve been pretending to care for that hatchling, haven’t you?”
Prom suddenly spoke, covering his mouth with both hands as he shook with laughter.
What a creepy act. He was cackling with joy.
“Excellent. The hypocrisy of pretending to be good for others!”
“….”
“Where did you learn to be such an ideal father? Your own father was garbage!”
I realized Prom had misunderstood.
Seeing the contract and my current self without knowing my soul had switched, it was easy to think I was merely acting.
In the original work, Seymour indeed pretended to care for Lucis to deceive everyone.
“I also love that you exploited the loophole where the Void Dragon never said ‘kill’! Why drag it out so long?”
“….”
“Ah, no! Don’t answer! Anticipating it is part of the fun!”
“…Fun.”
“Yes, fun! Watching the child’s expression when you finally kill her! Feeling her betrayal! Ah, so thrilling and so anticipated!”
Prom’s eyes curved like inverted crescents, the joy inside revolting.
“…Very well. Anticipate freely.”
I mirrored his smile.
I engraved his disgusting grin into my memory.
Someday, I would see that face twisted in despair, writhing with betrayal.
“I shall look forward to it, too.”
That day, I too would take pleasure in seeing his face.
I left the church.
“Ha ha ha ha! See you again, Seymour! I’ll be waiting for the feast you’ve prepared!”
Prom’s maniacal laughter echoed in my ears even after the church doors closed.
I slowly descended the church steps. The path felt endless.
“…Sir. Are you… all right?”
“…Count. Are you… feeling unwell?”
The knights’ voices buzzed like they were underwater, and I could barely hear them.
Only the pounding headache and my own breathing filled my mind.
I reached the carriage.
As I reached for the door…
CRASH!
The carriage was literally crushed.
Shattered as if trampled by a giant.
The black mana flickering near the wreckage was mine.
“Eek!”
“Don’t look at it!”
Even the congregation who had been watching me turned away quickly.
“….”
I exhaled slowly to restrain the shout about to escape and commanded my knights:
“…Bring another carriage.”
“Yes! Understood!”
Until the new carriage arrived, I had to exercise superhuman patience to avoid destroying anything else.
Even on the way to the townhouse, I could think only of Lucis.
If I stopped even for a moment, I felt I might destroy everything around me.
“C-Count… we’ve arrived…”
I ignored the trembling coachman and strode toward the main hall.
“H-Hello… Eek?!”
“You… Lady… Gasp!”
Those attempting to greet me recoiled in panic as I swung open the mansion doors.
CLATTER!
The maids near the hall stairs stared in shock. They were Lucis’ attendants.
I didn’t need to ask where Lucis was.
“Oh?”
Lucis was lying on the floor near the maids, doing coloring.
“C-Count, you… I-I’m so sorry! I tried to guide you to the dining hall, but she insisted on waiting for you…!”
The maid’s face was pale as she bowed repeatedly, but I had no time for her.
Lucis stood as I approached.
“Eek…!”
The maids stepped back in fear.
But Lucis simply looked up at me with her usual serene expression.
“Wa-saw?”
“Lucis.”
Apparently, she had been waiting for me.
“….”
I looked down at her.
Even I didn’t know what I wanted or why I was standing here.
Then Lucis raised her arms toward me. I bent instinctively and held her gently.
Lucis settled into my arms as usual—small, soft, yet astonishingly warm.
“Haa…”
Holding her briefly, the discomfort, anger, and headache that had consumed me began to fade.
But when I met her golden eyes, the emotions I had suppressed rose again.
Betrayal toward Mausoleum.
Anger at Seymour.
Revulsion toward Prom.
Grit.
I unconsciously ground my teeth.
Filth. Worse than beasts.
To stake the life of this small child as if it were a mere toy.
Worse still, I, who had orchestrated her fate, now pretended to be a virtuous human…
Swipe.
A sudden softness brushed my cheek, as if a bird had landed.
I blinked in surprise.
Lucis whispered softly, half-smiling as always:
“G’ncha na.” (It’s okay.)
“….”
Before that smile, I could say nothing.
