Chapter 108: Ghost (3)

Epherene stared blankly at the paper inside the drawer. Memories of the letters she had sent to her sponsor suddenly flooded her mind as she absentmindedly fiddled with the handkerchief she always carried.

“... How can this be?” Epherene murmured.

Brrrrr...

In that instant, a chill crawled up her spine, causing the muscles in her neck to tighten. Epherene's eyes widened as she directed all her focus behind her. The unsettling presence of ghostly aura was eerily familiar, but this time, she refused to be caught off guard.

Whirrrr—

She gathered mana into her palm, readying a destructive spell, and swiftly turned around.

“Miss Epherene, are you all right?”

“

Ah

!”

It was Allen. Epherene quickly dispersed the magic.

“A-assistant Professor, I just saw a ghost—”

“Yes, I saw it too.”

“You did?!”

Allen nodded seriously, but then his eyes shifted to the letter in Epherene’s hand.

"

Oh

," Allen muttered, catching on to the situation.

Epherene noticed Allen’s expression and realized he had known about this all along.

"... Miss Epherene," Allen said, his tone firm, with a hint of frustration. "Entering the professor's office without permission and going through his belongings is grounds for disciplinary action."

“Yes... I’m sorry...”

“You’re quite the troublemaker.”

Epherene felt a wave of confusion wash over her. She knew she had done something wrong, but the sight of her letter in Deculein’s possession was baffling. The realization that he might be her sponsor sent her mind spinning.

Allen sighed softly before continuing, “In any case, you understand now, don’t you, Miss Epherene? The professor isn’t just a bad person.”

His words held a deeper significance.

Epherene bit her lip and muttered, “But why did he do it anonymously...?”

“He said you would have refused if you knew it was him.”

Epherene remained silent, unable to deny the truth. As much as she hated to admit it, Allen was right. Back then, and even now, her pride had always outweighed her abilities.

“But for now, it might be wise to run,” Allen suggested.

Epherene tilted her head in confusion and asked, “Sorry?”

Allen smiled, then pointed out the window.

“The ghost is still there—just over there.”

The ghost, with its blood-red eyes, was still clinging to the glass.

***

On the Floating Island of Megiseon, there was an autonomous investigative body called the Magical Investigation Department. Because the island was an extraterritorial and independent zone, outside the jurisdiction of any nation, the M.I.D. carried out its own investigations whenever a crime occurred.

Given that the investigations were conducted by mages, the department boasted a 95% arrest rate. The remaining 5% represented cases where the culprit had been identified but remained at large due to a lack of power to capture them—figures like Rohakan the Black Beast, Carla the Authority, or Rodran the Divine Soldier.

As soon as Idnik set foot on the Floating Island, she gave me a concise summary of the situation.

I furrowed my brow and asked in a stern tone, "A ghost?"

“Yes. Sylvia’s subconscious created a terrifying ghost, which then committed the murder. She’s currently facing charges of second-degree magical homicide,” Idnik continued. “However, this is still under investigation. While Sylvia’s mana was found at the crime scene, there isn’t sufficient evidence to definitively link the ghost to her.”

As we walked, we eventually reached the headquarters of the Magical Investigation Department—a geometric building resembling a stack of misaligned cubes.

𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

“And why did you call me?” I asked.

“Deculein, you hold the Floating Island’s Bail Rights.”

I do? Idnik seemed to know far too much about things I wasn’t aware of,

I thought.

"Regardless of whether the murder actually occurred, Sylvia's raw talent rivals Adrienne's. She doesn't belong in a place as restrictive as this," Idnik continued.

“How severe is her condition?”

“Her state is critical. She was already deteriorating when they confined her. If the stress becomes too much, the results could be disastrous. Her magic might spiral out of control and damage her core.”

A fundamental thought came to me. When a child was caught up in such a situation, it was only natural that their parent would be the first to arrive.

“What is Glitheon’s involvement in all this?” I inquired.

“He’s likely just observing, perhaps viewing this as an ideal chance for magical advancement. Even if he were to come, he wouldn’t be of any help—he doesn’t have the Bail Rights.”

“Idnik,” I called her just as she reached for the doorknob of the headquarters. She turned back to face me. “Why did I kill Cielia? What was that promise?”

I needed to ask, even if it aroused suspicion. Idnik’s expression turned puzzled, but she soon let out a hollow laugh.

“Well, I guess you'd be curious why Ciel didn't try to escape. Even she never told me that,” Idnik replied.

Her response came swiftly, as if she had already drawn her own conclusions. The imbalance of information worked in her favor. After all, there were very few mages in this world who could suspect the truth—that Kim Woo-Jin resided within Deculein’s shell.

“Ciel was terminally ill, but she couldn’t bear the thought of dying from sickness in front of Sylvia. She knew she was the only source of comfort Sylvia had.”

I stayed silent.

“I never fully grasped Ciel’s intentions. Perhaps she believed that if she were killed, Sylvia would survive fueled by revenge. Or maybe she simply couldn’t bear for her daughter to witness her gradual decline.”

I closed my eyes, enduring the sharp pain that throbbed in my temples. Her words stirred dark memories deep within me.

“But Deculein, it was you who killed Ciel. That remains unchanged. She knew you would be the one to do it, and even so, she didn’t run away. In exchange, you gained everything you desired.”

Everything I had wanted... I knew what that was—perhaps the death of Decalane, the cursed wraith that neither Deculein nor Yeriel could ever truly appease.

"So don’t consider running away now," Idnik concluded.

... Only now did I begin to understand. Deculein’s malevolence and shadow were always present, lurking in the background. The Villain’s Fate would reach out to me from unseen places at any time. Perhaps it was inevitable. Yukline and Iliade. And Deculein von Grahan-Yukline. He was a character designed never to survive.

“

Hah

.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips as I spoke. Having already resolved to defy fate, I saw no reason to be discouraged by something as trivial as a game system.

“... What’s so funny?”

This was the reality of Deculein’s life. If each day proved to be a struggle, if the entire world conspired to cast me as a villain, if love was forever out of reach, then I would still embrace the challenge and rise above it.

“I’m starting to see that this world is far from boring.”

My ego did not waver, no matter how fierce the storm of adversity. Even when the most devastating calamity swept through, destroying everything in its path, this cursed world would one day find me standing tall and alone at its center.

"I’ll exercise the Bail Rights for Sylvia. The rest is in your hands," I said.

“... This easily?” Idnik asked, surprise evident despite her initial request. “Of course, if she’s found innocent, the Bail Rights won’t be used.”

“Regardless of the outcome, you must also keep your promise to Cielia. I want Sylvia to live a long life and become an Archmage.”

“What?” Idnik said, her expression twisting in disbelief.

There was no reason to keep staring at her confused expression. I turned away and opened the door to the headquarters of the Magical Investigation Department.

***

The magical investigator explained that while Sylvia had been asleep, her subconscious had manifested the Primary Colors, which had created a monster that killed a mage. Such outbursts were possible for anyone, the investigator noted, before asking if Sylvia had recently gone through anything particularly stressful.

Sylvia sat with her head bowed, lost in her thoughts. She pondered whether she was truly responsible for the murder, her silence deepening as she remained trapped in her own mind.

“If you remain silent, we’ll have no choice but to summon an Enchanter,” Investigator Russell, Lumiere-ranked mage, warned

There had certainly been stressful events in Sylvia’s life recently, but...

Bzzzzz—

“Please wait here for a moment, Regallo Sylvia,” Russell said as he received a summons. After instructing a subordinate to watch Sylvia, he stepped out of the room. “...

Hmm

? Monarch Deculein?”

Outside the interrogation room, Deculein waited in the department’s private meeting room. Even on the Floating Island, he was a well-known figure, always dressed in suits rather than robes.

As Russell approached, Deculein stated, "Sylvia is here."

He was also one of the few who spoke casually, even on the Floating Island where there was no caste system.

"Yes, that's correct," Russell confirmed.

"Release her."

“... Excuse me? Monarch Deculein, this is the Floating Island, not the Empire—”

"I intend to invoke the Bail Rights."

Russell's expression tightened in shock as he said, "... Pardon?"

For a moment, he thought he might have misheard. In his seven years as an investigator on the Floating Island, this was the first time he had ever encountered the Bail Rights.

"I said I will invoke the Bail Rights."

"Are you truly invoking that privilege... for Regallo Sylvia?"

Russell was stunned that someone like him would use such a privilege for another—especially a Yukline for an Iliade.

"Indeed."

The Bail Rights on the Floating Island were a rare and highly prized privilege. In a land where wealth was abundant, money alone couldn’t guarantee bail. These rights were awarded exclusively to individuals who had reached a Milestone on the Floating Island and were transferable to an official heir upon death.

Deculein’s Bail Rights had likely been inherited from Decalane. These rights could grant immunity even to a mage accused of murder—a privilege rooted in the Floating Island’s harsh society, where magic and knowledge were valued above life itself.

Deculein said, "However, see that it’s delivered anonymously. That should be feasible, correct?"

"... Yes. I will see to it," Investigator Russell replied.

With a nod, Monarch Deculein left the office. That was it. One of the most valuable rights on the Floating Island, handed over as casually as if it were just a meal ticket...

“Why... Why would Deculein do that?” Russell muttered, still in disbelief as he absentmindedly toyed with the badge on his robe.

~

Sylvia was released without incident. Russell cited insufficient evidence as the reason, and outside the headquarters, Idnik was waiting for her.

Idnik handed her a block of tofu[1], saying, "Take it."

Sylvia glanced at the tofu, her eyes dull and lifeless, mirroring the glazed stare of a dead fish.

“Are you just going to stand there like a fucking idiot?” Idnik remarked sharply. “You once leaped from a cliff, begging to be taken in as a protégé, and now look at you.”

“Did I really kill them?” Sylvia asked, her voice dry and brittle.

Idnik clicked her tongue and said, “The investigation is still ongoing, and they’ve found insufficient evidence. It probably wasn’t your fault.”

Sylvia had been crumbling inside, torn between her trust in Deculein and the harsh truths others told her. Her heart wore down slowly. Unless she chose to abandon one—either Deculein or Cielia—this erosion would never stop.

“... You’re helpless,” Idnik muttered, remembering Deculein’s words.

“

I want Sylvia to live a long life and become an Archmage.

”

Idnik reflected,

Deculein likely understood. What Sylvia requires now is not just a purpose, but a flame to reignite her spirit.

“... Sylvia, do you want to see what happened

that day

?” Idnik asked.

Sylvia slowly raised her head, her lifeless eyes drawing Idnik’s notice.

“Memories?”

“Yes. The day Ciel died,” Idnik said, tapping her left eye. “This is a prosthetic eye. It records everything I see. I witnessed Ciel’s death with it.”

“

Ah

.”

“I’ll show you those memories.”

In that moment, a faint spark flickered to life in Sylvia’s eyes.

***

After descending from the Floating Island, I arrived at the Imperial Palace. It had been some time since I last assumed the role of an instructor mage. However...

I fixed my gaze on her and addressed her directly, "Your Majesty."

Sophien seemed to look back at me, though it was unclear if she truly was. Lying on the floor, she drifted in and out of sleep, her eyes fluttering open and shut repeatedly.

"Your Majesty, may I ask what you're doing?"

"...

Hmm

?

Oh

... as of late..." Empress Sophien said, her voice lingering as she blinked slowly. "I find myself... increasingly troubled by everything..."

"Is that so?"

"Yes... I have even found myself... contemplating a suicide..."

At her words, I immediately straightened. For Sophien to mention suicide, the situation was far more dire than I had anticipated. Her current state of ennui was already deeply concerning.

"Your Majesty, if you wish to accomplish great things, you must first attend to your health."

"Great things...

hmm

... fuck..."

I sighed and said, "... I wish I could delve into the thoughts within Your Majesty's mind."

In fact, the quest Darkness of the Imperial Palace required delving into the Empress's past, so I mentioned it to assess the situation.

Sophien opened her eyes, fixed her gaze on me, and said, "You wouldn’t be able to handle it..."

"There is nothing I am incapable of handling."

"If your goal was to anger me... then you've succeeded," Sophien said, her eyes narrowing. But as she tried to stand, she collapsed back onto the floor. "... Correction. You failed... You didn’t manage to anger me after all..."

The Empress's condition was far worse than I had anticipated. Her lethargy was unimaginable.

"Your Majesty, are you familiar with the creature known as a sloth?" I asked.

"You couldn’t possibly... grasp the depth of my lethargy..."

It felt as though a sloth had taken up residence in the Imperial Palace.

"Your Majesty, you even registered for my lecture."

"

Oh

... that? It wasn’t me... it was the cat who registered."

"The lecture will be held next Wednesday, biweekly."

Sophien fell silent. I turned to Keiron, who remained as quiet and steadfast as ever, a constant shadow of the Empress.

"Sir Keiron, it appears the Empress is unfit for a lesson today. Do you know the reason why?" I asked.

He nodded and stepped forward. Yet, the Keiron who had been standing behind the Empress remained where he was. In other words, there were now two Keirons.

"Come outside.”

One Keiron remained behind the Empress, while the other walked to the door and opened it.

"... Very well," I said, leaving Sophien—who resembled a sloth more than ever—behind as I followed the second Keiron outside.

As he led the way, Keiron spoke, "Her condition has steadily deteriorated, to the point where even breathing has become a burden. The cause likely lies beneath the palace. I assume you have been informed by Jolang."

"Indeed."

"Yet, it appears that even a mage of your caliber finds my magical talent intriguing."

I nodded. Witnessing someone suddenly split into two had indeed been extraordinary.

"This ability is what allowed me to enter the palace as an escort knight at the age of ten. The advantage of multiple bodies is invaluable for protection," Keiron explained.

"I see."

Keiron was among the strongest in this world. Though he rarely left the Empress’s side, his peculiar attribute had made him a figure of considerable power.

"We have arrived."

The underground door to which Keiron led me differed from the one Jolang had shown me before.

Noticing my curious glance, Keiron explained, "There are two entrances to the underground."

"Yes, this door differs from the one Jolang showed me. Have you been observing him?" I asked.

"Escorting requires more than mere physical strength; it demands an understanding of internal politics. When not wielding a sword, one must remain vigilant, with eyes open and ears keen."

"... Indeed," I replied, shifting my focus to the underground door.

Fizzle—!

The simple wooden door sparked at my touch, and an eerie sound filled the air.

—

... Sophien's death was far from ordinary.

She had died, revived, and regressed countless times, leaving this world irrevocably altered.

Sophien was a living testament to the world's strange miracles—her very existence as extraordinary as the world itself.

The resentment, sorrow, pain, and anger born from her endless deaths had seeped into the palace's underground, creating a dark, suffocating mire.

To explore that hellish death was a daunting task, akin to a major quest for any player.

This marked the beginning of the Independent Quest.

I turned to Keiron and asked, "Will you accompany me, Keiron?"

Keiron handed me a small sword, a silent refusal, and responded, "I am a knight sworn to protect only the Empress. I will not accompany anyone else. However, if you find yourself in danger, draw this sword. It will grant you a Manifestation for a time."

Keiron's words had a weight that naturally inspired trust, even without effort. He had been a model knight, much like Yulie.

"I understand."

When I nodded, Keiron took his place by the underground door. The two Keirons now guarded both the Empress and the door directly linked to her safety.

"Will it require much time?" Keiron inquired.

"The first time should be brief," I replied.

"The first time?"

"Yes."

This quest was essentially about entering Sophien’s mind and experiencing her regressions. While it didn’t involve literally entering her mind, it was close enough. Given that Sophien had died over a hundred times, there would be numerous retries. Today, this served as a substitute for the Runic Language instruction.

"... Understood. I will stand guard outside."

"Yes, understood."

With that, Keiron became as still as a statue once more, and I opened the underground door.

1. In South Korea, giving tofu to someone is a symbolic gesture when they get released from prison. The tradition is rooted in the idea that tofu, with its soft texture and neutral flavor, represents a clean start and a fresh beginning. ☜