Глава 13

I'm just curious why a long-lived like you would deign to conceal your identity and do such insignificant things.

I noticed. Of course, this is still much better than the worst-case scenario I thought of.

However... you can deny it, and we'll speak of it no more. I'll tell Nine though.

I won't.

Nowell smiles, plucks a leaf and fiddles with it.

There are actually many Victorians who I'm well-acquainted with, that know my identity... I only wish to avoid scaring my travel companions.

But I'd like to correct you on one point, Talulah. I'm not 'deigning' to act like this.

My longevity aside, I doubt I'm any more talented than ordinary people.

The long-lived gain their longevity through different means, as diverse as the Originium Arts they use.

But we aren't always influential figures, Talulah.

In fact... I'm much more interested in your story.

A descendant of the red dragon, founder of Reunion, and the leader of the Infected movement that took off in Ursus. To think you'd still act so shrewdly towards a so-called 'long-lived'?

...Who exactly are you, Mr. Nowell?

Just some guy.

A hundred and fifty years ago, I was telling my third son the fables I learned from my travels in Yan, and he left my side from impatience.

And as I stood before his granddaughter's granddaughter, I was once again a stranger in a large family.

So now I harbor anger and pain inside me, giving up entirely on both family and love as I try to locate the villain hiding in Victoria who manipulated my fate.

I spent the last century researching... researching the ''long-liveds', the 'gods', the 'masterminds', the 'immemorials', and myself.

I tried to benefit from the system of nobility, to hone my Originium Arts, to accumulate wealth and exchange it for secrets...

I tried every method you can fathom to get closer to the truth, but I haven't been successful at all.

I didn't manage to become nobility or wealthy. I only had a little shop... that's all I really had. Combat abilities wise, I might not even be able to defeat Mr. Guard.

Time has only taught me to recognize the reality that I hold no talents at all.

That's the story of an ordinary person, Talulah. This tale I can freely share with you.

Nowell drops the leaves that were in his hand, and the breeze blows them far away.

He dusts himself off, and picks up his suitcase once more.

Please, rest assured I hold no ill intent towards you all. I only wish to find... the 'hands of fate' that cursed me.

She hides behind the country, treating her monarch as her glove, and the city-state her chessboard.

She merely looks upon everything labeled 'Victoria' with a cold gaze. If needed, 'Victoria' can even be destroyed and rebuilt, and topped off with a new flag after.

How can I believe she isn't involved in our current turmoil of absurdity?

She's definitely hiding within the dukes. Watching the Sarkaz and Victorians engage in mutual slaughter. Bloodshed and sacrifice are merely heartless parameters and indicators to her.

Perhaps you might have been manipulated by a similar pair of 'hands' before—you have royal blood running through your veins after all. She has no reason to let you nor Alistair's daughter go.

Me? I do know another conspirator, but he doesn't deserve to be called a god, nor can he manipulate my fate.

But that's exactly how they live on, Talulah.

I want to know how to kill them.

Or perhaps, how to kill myself.

It's getting late, I need to fix little Susanna's glasses.

Mr. Nowell, you...

Talulah. The reason why I willingly tell you all of this, and why I joined Reunion—do forgive my selfishness—it is due to the intuition I've honed by the extra century I've lived.

You too, have resisted such a predetermined fate.

All of you here have.

Why should I help you, Sarkaz?

Do you think you saved me? I didn't die, though that doesn't even matter—this shell is merely a plaything I abandoned long ago.

Besides, aren't the Sarkaz the ones hunting me down?

How much history have you seen?

All that I have experienced.

Rumors say that you will divulge a piece of truth, or hint at an omen.

You tiny little creatures treat my drifting ripples as hallucinations while indulging in them, and yet you harbor resent?

After I was divided up by those lunatics... there's even a fallen angel carrying a part of me around, and what I've seen and heard since has actually gotten more interesting.

On the contrary, what makes me feel absolute boredom are these so-called... bulky histories and profound topics.

Absolute boredom... you're not wrong on that.

History always repeats itself on this land. Looking at the past is now a means of looking towards the future.

And so, I have actually become a prophet! In this life of mine—if you can still count my current form as the same life as before—I've never thought of having such an identity.

Then... are you looking for a 'new conclusion'?

Just how old do you think I am? You little rascal.

There won't be any new conclusions to draw, with the way all of you look like now.

Yes, something strange has happened to these decrepit bones of mine. A rabbit wears a Sarkaz's crown, and she together with a male Banshee are fighting a Vampire on top of my head.

Of course, there's that sheep playing with shadows who hangs out with you too.

Are these new to me? A little, perhaps.

But you can't win.

You seem so sure.

Do we also belong to the history you've seen, that has comes full circle time and time again?

There's never been a shortage of those who resist on this great land, but they always fall into the same trap.

Besides, I understand that Vampire's tricks. He was the one who peeled off my skin back then.

Let's have a wager, Feranmut.

This strange bunch of people—Cautus, Caprinae, Banshee, Sarkaz; they'll triumph over the Vampire that tried to hunt you.

Are you trying to win my favor? Do you think I'll look at you differently for helping me?

I couldn't care any less about that. But what are you putting on the table?

If we win, you'll lend us your help, and bring us back to where we came from.

And if you lose?

We'll all be dead by that point.

You're making an empty offer, little thing.

I accept.

You really are easy to talk over.

No, it's because I know that all you have are just the waves I toss up, that will calm to a still in the blink of an eye.

So I might as well spare a little effort and raise my eyelids a little.

You have indeed won, by a miniscule move. But the bet is far from over.

Did you really win? Did you triumph over the enmity, slaughter, and blood that Vampire represents?

Why don't we expand our wager by a little?

I'll bring all of you back.

And then continue to waiting for you in the cycles of history.

How long have they been gone?

Three hours and fourteen minutes.

I'm really worried about them.;......;Even a Sanguinarch can bleed and die, right?

You should trust them.

It's all we can do.

We're done with our combat mission too.

Our losses aren't light. Their forces here are indeed well-trained.

Most of the Sarkaz chose to fight to the end, but a small number also chose to surrender.

You can hand them over to W's mercenary squad.;......;Will you execute them?

No, I'm not doing that.

It seems like you want me to make my own decision.

That's how I wish to do so, and so does the rest.

But I refuse to let them die so simply just like that.

Perhaps it's difficult to put them on trial during wartime.

It's definitely a difficult task to judge just how much blood is on the hands of every terror-stricken Sarkaz who laid down their arms.

But if we act just like they do, then we'll be no different than them.

Vina, I'd like to take on the responsibility of investigating the crimes committed by these Sarkaz prisoners of war.

I have a professional covert intelligence background too, so I'm well versed in the ways to get them to talk.

I know what you're worried about, I...

No, I'm not.