Chapter 42: Filled with Determination
"That damn bastard."
Pure pitch-black. Without even a reflection of light, only the whir of the projector echoed through the space, and I couldn't hide my irritation at the images being displayed.
"It’s drifting further and further from the original script, isn't it? Under normal circumstances, the encounter with Rouge shouldn't happen for another five chapters. And as for teaming up with King... no, I suppose that’s my fault. But the real problem is Alter."
I sprawled back in my chair, crossing my legs in a slumped, defiant posture.
"Why the hell is she acting like she wants to distance herself from him? She should have held him back with everything she had. You’re losing it already, and we haven’t even had our ‘go’ yet, you loli hag."
I had told her. I had specifically warned her: "Do not lose sight of the truth."
My plan had been simple—maintain my consciousness just enough to eventually instruct Esil to move toward my revival at the right moment.
...No, that wasn't quite right. To be honest, I didn't even have much interest in my own existence anymore.
I had spent over five times as many years in this body as I had in my life before reincarnation. Perhaps because I had lived so long in such a strictly controlled world, my sense of self was fading, and a martyr complex was beginning to take root.
"Heh, I guess this is exactly what Lica wanted..."
It was an impossible task to begin with—expecting a high schooler from a peaceful era to handle this. I had intended to turn myself into a sub-memory and hand everything over to Esil before my mind completely broke.
"Why, Alter...?"
"I... I cannot fathom the reason, Master."
"Hah."
A sharp crash followed.
I hurled my wine glass toward the source of the voice. The glass flew at transonic speeds, far exceeding Esil’s reaction time, and shattered against her, staining her body red with the liquid inside.
"I don't care what Alter told you. You will follow my orders above all else."
I don’t let Esil respond, not that I expect she’ll say anything in the first place.
"Do not let King die. Protect her from Lancelot."
If it was for that purpose, then—
"I'll lend you a piece of myself. It’s something that will eventually become your own power, though if you can't handle it, it will simply kill you."
"Understood."
I returned to my tedious viewing.
On the screen, the protagonist wore an expression of pity.
"Damn it..."
Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine with this.
After all, this was always just the story of a pathetic, mass-produced model who could never become anyone important.
"Commander, are you certain this is the place?"
"Yeah, it should be, but..."
"Could we have been fed false information?"
"Is that even possible?"
"At the very least, it seems we don't have to worry about that!"
King’s voice was sharp with caution as she alerted us. This presence...!
"I've been waiting for you."
"......!"
This overwhelming aura! There was no mistake; it was the same suffocating tension I felt when facing Asuna or Burnatville. This person was...!
"Yeah, I'm the one."
An overwhelming superior looked down at us with eyes full of disdain. It was a gaze so cold it made even Yellow and Lancelot—both renowned as some of the strongest Phantasm Girls—shiver in place.
"I am one of the S-class Slayers... The Commander: Apollon Rouge, the Primordial Red."
We were going to have to go toe-to-toe with these monsters. Faced with that reality, the burning desire to save Asuna surged within me.
I was filled with determination.
Author's Note
Comments (1)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.