The saint could only raise her voice in response to the man’s indifferent words, feeling even more upset.
As an orphan, her heart genuinely cared for and protected the weak.
There was no way she could simply accept something like that.
“Did you know it would come to this?! If you had thought about it, you could have saved that dark priest and sought another solution!”
“Save Miltram?”
The man scoffed, as if it was nonsense.
Still, with the alcohol in him, his emotional expressions were beginning to increase.
Though, it was only at a level so faint that it wouldn’t be noticeable unless one looked closely.
“That’s ridiculous… Do you know how rare it is for that cunning guy to reveal his true self? If we had just spared him, he might have continued to operate for several more years. And those who would be hurt and die from his schemes would have been at least in the hundreds.”
“B-but…”
The saint wanted to say, “It’s your territory,” but the man’s expression was utterly cold.
He spoke with a firm tone.
“There is no ‘but’ in war. If you start accounting for circumstances, there are no people who are without hardship; you always have to make efficient and rational choices… There can be no exceptions. Not for me, nor for anyone.”
The one who became at a loss for words first was the saint.
It was a matter involving the lives of hundreds at stake.
There was no way they could just carelessly discuss it and be able to take responsibility for those countless lives. As someone who had saved and lost many lives up to now, she understood that weight.
Next to speak up against him was Elsi.
With a slightly softened attitude compared to before, but still with a firm hostility, she asked.
“…You won’t know unless you try, right?”
The man didn’t even glance at Elsi.
He simply tipped the whiskey bottle again. Half of that bottle had already disappeared.
Elsi, even more flustered by the blatant disregard, shouted.
“You’re not the master anyway! Who are you to say whether the master should abandon the territory or not?! Our Rainelle Clan’s magic troops are strong enough, how can you say you won’t try…!”
However, her heated voice was soon cut off.
The man was merely looking at Elsi.
His eyes, devoid of emotion, sent chills down her spine.
If there were someone living on after losing their heart, it would be the man before her, she thought instinctively.
There was no sense of regret in his decision.
Yet, among that dry expression, she felt a fleeting glimpse of his memories pass by and Elsi clenched her fists, turning her head.
There was no way he wouldn’t want to save them.
It was just that he couldn’t.
He probably had tried countless times himself.
From a far-off future.
But after falling too many times and getting hurt, he was now unable to do so.
“Are we done with talking? I’ll handle persuading the head of the household, Arthur, and Sir Raymond, so everyone hurry up and pack your things. With a large-scale operation, there’s no time to waste.”
Just as the man finished saying that and rose from his seat, someone blurted out a question.
“…What if you abandon them?”
It was Celin.
Still with a confused look in her eyes, she asked with a trembling voice, unsure if it was a question or a provocation.
“If you abandon them, what will you protect, brother?”
The man’s hand, which had been gathering whiskey from the table, froze.
His gaze was fixed intently on Celin.
Yet, unlike the women, Celin did not stop speaking. Instead, she was becoming more emotional, pouring forth her increasingly heated voice.
“Family? Friends? Or a lover? What exactly is worth abandoning a territory for…!”
“The world.”
It was the moment when words seemed to fail her.
Celin’s eyes stared blankly at the man.
He had emptied half a bottle of straight whiskey.
His pupils might have relaxed by now, but the man’s gaze remained sharp.
Like the remnants of fire left among ash.
“…I couldn’t protect anything else.”
Family, friends, lovers.
All of them.
As the man took one last gulp of whiskey, he trudged away.
It was a sad figure.
In the agonizing silence, only the saint released a prayer mixed with a sigh.
“Emmanuel…”
Hundreds of lives would be cast aside.
That was the conclusion of this conversation.
After leaving the reception room, the man’s subsequent actions were drastic.
He immediately sought out the Empire’s administrative officer, Arthur.
Just as with the women, the man explained the circumstances, but Arthur showed no signs of understanding.
He entered the meeting room reeking of alcohol.
No matter how much they claimed to have information from the dark priest, it was hard to trust it at face value.
Arthur shook his head and opened his mouth.
“That’s impossible. This is a matter that even His Majesty the Emperor is concerned about. We can’t conduct a large-scale retreat operation based solely on the words of the dark priest…”
It was then that the man traced a finger downward.
Strange letters began to be etched into the air as if blood was flowing.
As the Empire’s administrative officer, he knew exactly what those were.
Arthur’s eyes widened in shock.
The man spoke in the same tone, unaffected by the dramatic reaction.
“It’s not a request, it’s an order. Conduct the retreat operation responsibly. Relay to Sir Raymond that it’s an imperial command.”
“…Yes, sir!”
Arthur was just an administrative officer from a common background without any backing.
It was impossible to refuse the man’s command.
Even if he had support, it was an order that could not be turned down.
The blood inscription was nothing less than a symbol of the Emperor.
Therefore, an order given by the owner of the blood inscription was equivalent to the Emperor’s command.
Unless the Emperor showed up unexpectedly to revise the orders, it meant that Arthur had to fulfill the man’s intent at all costs, even at the cost of his life.
Arthur, still in shock, suddenly seemed to recall something and rushed to stand up to kneel.
If only the man’s cold voice hadn’t pressed down on him.
“Is there time for such nonsense? Then get to work immediately.”
“Y-yes, understood!”
Arthur had no choice but to sit back down, his voice trembling.
After showing him the blood inscription, everything proceeded swiftly.
Convincing Viscount Percus was straightforward.
Borrowing the authority of the Empire’s administrative officer Arthur, it was easy to convey it as an imperial command.
There was no noble in the Empire who could oppose the Emperor’s will.
Viscount Percus appeared flustered, but inevitably sighed and had to give instructions to his retainers.
To issue a evacuation order throughout the territory.
Of course, the man’s stormy actions did not stop there.
Having moved to the backyard, he suddenly spoke in a flat tone.
“…Neoris.”
“Yes, Ian.”
As if it was a matter of course, a shadow settled behind the man.
A beauty with brown hair and deep green eyes, it was Neoris from the Empire’s Intelligence Department.
She had been stationed in hiding in the backyard of Percus Manor while gathering information.
“Send word to the knight. It seems he’ll need to come to Perkus territory. Also, request the mobilization of the White Wing Knights.”
“…Y-yes?”
Despite deciding not to question things any further, Neoris couldn’t help but let out a stunned sound at such shocking content.
The knight was a member of the imperial family and the only master of the Empire, wasn’t he?
No one could dare command such a person to come.
It was the same even if the person was the owner of the blood inscription.
The knight was an elder of the royal court who even the Emperor acknowledged and treated with deference.
Moreover, asking for the mobilization of the White Wing Knights was essentially a command to summon one of the most elite knight orders of the Empire.
Yet, Neoris had no choice but to kneel as she accepted the man’s orders.
It was as if she had seen a hand axe appear in his sight.
Witnessing that made her swiftly revert to being Ian’s loyal subordinate.
“I-I will do as you say!”
Despite the late reaction, the man still appeared slightly unsatisfied.
He tapped the hand axe dangling at his waist, pondering. Each tap caused beads of sweat to drip from Neoris’s forehead.
Fortunately, he didn’t actually pick up the axe.
He merely warned in a cold tone.
“…Don’t forget. The Empire’s crows must be blind.”
It meant that she should ignore both the status of the person and the information collected.
Furthermore, it signified to follow the orders from above obediently, like a blind person who knows nothing.
As if to signify she understood, Neoris quickly struck her head to the ground before hastily leaving.
She did so to activate the Empire’s Intelligence Department’s communication network.
As events hurriedly unfolded, the man always held a whiskey bottle in his hand.
The first bottle he had been drinking was long emptied.
Now the second bottle was more than half gone. It was only natural that he was starting to feel tipsy.
Yet, it was remarkable that his eyes still didn’t dim.
The man stumbled his way towards his designated room in the manor.
Though it was early evening, it was time to lie down and sleep.
But someone was chasing after him.
It was Reto.
As soon as he spotted the man, he grabbed his shoulder.
The man’s gaze naturally turned backward, and Reto faced those golden eyes as he asked.
“…Can’t you do it?”
The man didn’t return any response.
Thus, Reto had to ask again.
“Can’t you defeat that evil god’s retinue with your power?”
Before long, a sigh shaped by alcohol escaped.
He placed a hand on his forehead and shook his head.
“I can’t. Just being called now is an exceptional situation. So I will be troubled for a while… The extent to which I can directly twist the future is limited.”
So he added that he could only provide fragmented information.
At this point, known clues were available, allowing for more detailed information to be provided. However, the more concrete the information provided prior to that, the more exhausting the effort became.
Even this was sufficient success for Reto to grab the man.
Still, Reto seemed to have lingering questions.
In a serious tone, he further inquired.
“Then what about providing your memories to Ian? According to him, he had some unidentified dreams… Aren’t those your memories? It seems he’s learning the skills you used afterwards.”
The man did not deny that inference.
He merely let out another sigh.
“…The assimilation rate has risen too high.”
“What?”
“The assimilation rate… That kid has been stealing my memories too much. So I should ideally show up only at specific moments, but whenever he loses consciousness, I get summoned.”
He exhaled heavily, leaning against the wall beside the door.
As if trying to dispose of the remaining alcohol, the man tipped the whiskey bottle to gulp it down.
“The more that happens, the more influence he inevitably receives from my intense emotions… I wouldn’t worry if his mental strength matched mine, but that’s unlikely. So he keeps becoming increasingly violent and strange.”
“…What happens if the assimilation rate rises further?”
“I don’t know.”
The man shrugged and added.
“Don’t think it’s just my second time going back to the past. It’s the first time in history… So I can’t be too careful.”
If that kid were to break, it would all be over.
With that vague mumble as the last words, the man emptied the remaining whiskey into his mouth.
And, wiping his lips, he staggered as he opened the door.
It was a signal to wrap up the conversation.
Reto only quietly observed.
Instead of a farewell, Reto let out a single syllable of doubt.
“…Why?”
The man’s golden eyes glanced at Reto.
Though his movements were like that of a drunkard, his gaze was intense.
It felt like seeing someone who wanted to get drunk but couldn’t.
“Even saving this world brings you no benefit… So why are you going to such lengths?”
The man closed his mouth and stared blankly into the air for a moment.
His silence didn’t last long.
He let out a hollow chuckle and replied.
“…I don’t know.”
That was the last thing the man left behind that day.
*
The next day, Ian Percus returned.
“…What’s going on here?”
It was in the face of the surrounding individuals, who had entirely changed their attitudes against him.
