Marco's Monologue
I have devoted extended moments to contemplate all the occasions on which I have engaged in conversations with these individuals. For me, having borne witness to the intricacies of their profound thoughts and unraveled their most intimate secrets, each interaction transforms into a symphony of colors and emotions that I yearn to experience firsthand.
The gears of life continue their ceaseless turning, and change presents itself as an inevitable path we must tread.
All around me, transformations of remarkable magnitude have been undergone, and Emilia, in particular, is evolving into an entirely different being. It is time for me to adapt and evolve as well, akin to a tree embracing the changing of seasons.
As I gaze upon her peacefully slumbering figure, seated in her presence, my mind delves into a sea of memories that we have shared thus far.
Some of these experiences, I would long to share with my parents, though I know that possibility has faded into the mists of the past.
The interwoven threads of my triumphs and failures have woven the tapestry of my existence, yet I still struggle to clearly perceive the essence of my own identity.
What am I becoming?
In some way, my feelings are becoming somewhat grey, extending beyond the fabric of reality, as I can reshape anything I desire.
My emotions are intricate, but I must not allow them to overwhelm me. Only one phrase remains deeply embedded in my being, a mantra guiding me in the darkness:
"One must do what must be done."
I confront each day regardless of the whirlwind of emotions that may engulf me, regardless of the internal storms threatening to engulf me.
My duty is clear, and my commitment is unwavering. Since I arrived in this place, I have undergone an inner transformation. The company of other beings has awakened a latent sensitivity within me, something that may not necessarily be a good thing.
For a long time, I remained withdrawn from the world, consumed by a distrust that devoured my existence; thus, companionship became a welcome change. Irony looms over my path, for the one I rescued turned out to be the same one who sought to take my life.
Life is a whirlwind of unpredictable twists that plunge us into bewilderment. And in the midst of this maelstrom, I cannot help but think that my personal resurgence will only be possible at the edge of the abyss, at the very brink of death itself.
Yes, only in death do I feel alive.
Even death, a fate that appears inevitable, has been wrested from my grasp. I bear the weight of an immense burden, knowing that an uncertain future awaits beyond the horizon.
Perhaps it would have been wiser to dwell in the ignorance of what lies ahead; that would have altered the decisions I would have to make.
Nevertheless, I bravely accept the challenge and continue my journey, forging myself in the fire of adversities and growing in strength.
The memory of the first time I took a life haunted me in disturbing nightmares. However, with the passage of time, that memory has faded, transformed into a fleeting spark in the vastness of my mind.
While my essence remains unchanging, I yearn to persist in my constant progress. At times, my emotions have served as an anchor hindering my advancement. Hence, I strive to cultivate serenity in the days to come.
When I finally set foot in the capital, I will project an impeccable image, without hesitation or flaws.
"We must do what we must do." These words resonate within me as an immovable mantra, a guide in the tangle of paths that lie before me.
Prologue
It all starts with wanting to do it.
As I gently caress Emilia's head, who rests peacefully in her bed, I delve into profound contemplations. Presently, we confront the challenge of rebuilding the village, and time is of the essence.
The news of the attack must already be spreading like wildfire, so we must seize this opportunity to receive the recognition we deserve.
The neighboring communities, upon witnessing our victory and our courage in facing the malevolence that plagued the world, will surely wish to join us.
Increasing the population is my foremost priority now. This great achievement will begin to carve its reputation, but with it, we also expose ourselves to undesirable adversaries.
In the narratives provided by the novel, I can delve into various themes experienced by the protagonist, but the political intricacies remain in the shadows. Although I possess some volumes on the subject, I lack more precise details.
The protagonist was never interested in any of this. However, I know that Emilia will deliver an impressive speech.
Yet, I am concerned about Roswaal's stance. I contemplate Emilia and her growth and cannot help but wonder about the dictates of her book of prophecies and the path it desires.
Fortunately, financial concerns do not weigh on my mind. Roswaal's mines have tripled their production; we have discovered deposits of superior quality, which have become our primary source of income.
Nevertheless, to stay at the forefront, I must keep abreast of the creation of new contrivances for the steam engine.
If my aim is to monopolize all markets, I shall need to establish factories, a task requiring the recruitment of capable individuals.
The oration proves to be of paramount importance, as we must make it clear that it was us who vanquished the cult. Only then can we entice new residents to the village.
However, to achieve this, I must be shrewd and eloquent in my words.
I rise from my bed and open the door leading to the lost library. There, before me, stands Beatrice. Her lips purse in an expression of displeasure.
With an understanding smile, I approach her calmly, and once in front of her, I kneel and, following Emilia's example, plant a warm kiss on her forehead.
"Do you desire another?" I ask Beatrice with a smile, as the scent of books fills the room. "It seems I am spoiling you."
Beatrice returns my smile, and her gaze drifts to some indistinct point. Her eyes shimmer with a hint of jealousy towards Emilia, though I always treat them both with tenderness, she knows it's not quite the same.
"Betty's contractor need only surrender to her, in fact" Beatrice comments, with a playful yet admiring tone toward her friend. "In contrast, you offer her your affection. Could it be that you have an affection for her I suppose?"
Beatrice leans slightly and averts her gaze to avoid meeting mine. It's evident there's more to her words.
To think that she would feel jealousy over that.
"She's like a little sister to me," I reply without hesitation, letting my true feelings shine through. "I must look after her as is proper and be a role model to assist her in growing and advancing in life. That is also Puck's wish."
"In contrast, you're like a daughter to me, although I've never had one. Your happiness is what makes me happy."
I gently stroke her head as I speak, but Beatrice looks at me with concern. Suddenly, she takes my hand and holds it delicately, fixing her eyes on mine.
I can feel our breaths intermingling in the air charged with pent-up emotions. It surprises me to see that overwhelming calmness reflected in Beatrice's profound eyes.
And then she speaks:
"You don't have to be this way, I suppose..." Beatrice whispers, drawing closer and encircling her arms around my neck.
A shiver traverses my spine as I sense the warmth of her body so near to mine. Yet, it is her calm and serene voice that impacts me even more.
"I can feel what you're feeling too, in fact, though it's just a part of it, I suppose" confesses Beatrice, her forehead touching mine. "It hurts so much that I want to cry, I suppose. Putting so much stress on you is not right; sooner or later, you will crumble, indeed."
I close my eyes for a moment, grateful for Beatrice's sincere words and unconditional love. She has always been a pivotal figure in my life, someone in whom I can place complete trust.
But now is not the time to pause or be swept away by feelings. If I falter, if I give up, if I rest... everything will collapse.
I must press on and exert myself to the fullest to reap the deserved rewards.
Though I longed to live peacefully in this cruel and unforgiving world, I have been met with one unexpected tragedy after another.
With a serious yet determined tone, I respond, "Thank you, truly, thank you," and reciprocate her embrace gently. "However, now I must carry on, and I ask that you continue to accompany me on this uncertain yet hopeful journey."
Beatrice moves slightly to direct her face toward me. She closes her eyes tightly before placing a tender kiss on my cheek. I can feel her trembling, but also the love emanating from her.
I know how challenging it is for Beatrice to display affection in this manner, which is why I appreciate this intimate and sincere gesture even more.
"I will protect you always, in fact" I think to myself as we embrace tightly. She gazes at me with a blush while I smile. I take her hand and rise, ready to continue.
"Whenever you need, Betty will be by your side, indeed. No matter what happens, she will never cease to love you, Marco," Beatrice murmurs, firmly reinforcing her grip with tenderness.
Her words, as gentle as a spring breeze, slide into my ears and nestle in my heart. Betty has always been like this, a beacon in the midst of the storm, ready to love me unconditionally regardless of circumstances.
I can't help but let a timid smile grace my lips as I feel her hands holding mine firmly.
But now is not the time for weakness. These next three days are crucial; important projects await my attention, and the success of the elections depends on me.
Determination courses through my veins as I venture into the outside world from the cozy security of the library.
Beatrice accompanies me to the place where they hold that unfortunate girl who has lost everything. I need answers; I need to confirm something crucial to advance on this tortuous path I've chosen to follow.
Upon reaching the hallway where her chamber lies, I encounter Ram, whose eyes reflect a certain discomfort with my constant presence.
After all, I am always causing trouble for her; nothing irritates Ram more than work.
I delicately raise my free hand to greet her and offer a mischievous smile, intending to mildly disconcert her.
"Good afternoon," I whisper melodiously, "it seems you've been quite occupied lately, haven't you?"
She grimaces and clicks her tongue in disapproval.
"Tsh! And here I was hoping not to run into you again," Ram crosses her arms, expressing her discontent. "Certainly, the weeds never die."
Amid this palpable tension, I realize that our relationship has always been this way: a constant dance between antagonism and complicity.
And although sharp words hang in the air like threatening knives, I know that Ram will be there to support me when I need her.
Her words are laden with sarcasm and resentment, understandable given that I continually burden her with additional work, and nothing irritates Ram more than that: working. But I cannot help it; every time I delve into the unfathomable depths of forbidden knowledge, new challenges emerge, requiring her presence.
"You state the obvious, yet you persist in living," I reply, dismissing her insult and hurling it back at her.
She prepares to offer a retort, but I interrupt her energetically, thus winning this verbal battle.
"We have managed to defeat the Archbishop of Sloth," my gaze turns serious as my eyes fixate on Ram with determination. "Now, we must obtain crucial information."
An arrogant glint lights up Ram's face in response to my serious demeanor.
"Do you expect applause?" She opens the door, and a warm breeze envelops us, contrasting with the cold outside.
The mana within her undoubtedly originates from another world, dense and scorching like ancient flames.
I am not sure what causes this unique effect, but it's something Beatrice has to meticulously studying. She claims there is no record of it in the ancient tomes inherited from her mother.
Or perhaps, she doesn't remember.
In contrast, Emilia's mana is icy like the depths of space, while this new discovery burns like a furious volcano. It is incredibly curious how someone so different has come to us in the midst of these somber circumstances.
Ram breaks the silence, adding more intricacies to this complex situation.
"She woke up a few minutes ago, but I only had time for a brief conversation before she fell unconscious," her words only deepen the enigma of it all.
She discloses that she was born and raised in Ultem, the small village ravaged by the cult's claws. During that fateful attack led by the archbishop, a mysterious mist enveloped every corner of that place, ruthlessly absorbing all forms of life.
"The witch's miasma," I whisper with a barely audible voice as my mind fills with macabre images.
Upon careful reflection, it is exceedingly strange that so many people have disappeared without a trace. No matter how vast our world may be or how far its borders extend, the scale used for this purpose is irrationally high.
There is only one plausible way to achieve it.
"They must possess some sinister means to turn people into fervent cult followers," Ram intuitively understands my thoughts and nods in agreement.
"That is impossible, indeed. The miasma does not work in that way, I suppose. A common human being would succumb to its influence and instantly go mad," Beatrice objects with an expression of incredulity that rejects our proposal.
Something strange is happening in this world; events that defy all known logic. All of this carries a mysterious and disturbing air.
"There is only one way to verify it," I declare with determination. "If we want clear answers, we must make her witness the corpses of the deceased. If any of them come from her hometown, then we must reconsider everything we thought we knew."
Both of them gaze at me with surprise and disbelief. I acknowledge the inherent cruelty in this action, but it is the only possible path to uncover the truth hidden behind the miasma.
I need to deepen my understanding of this dark force, and I will do what is necessary to achieve it.
I cautiously approach the unknown young woman and begin to shake her gently. Her snow-white hair gives her an ethereal appearance, akin to a delicate doll. However, as I touch her, I can clearly sense her enveloping mana.
It is even more potent than when I first saw her.
The girl begins to stir slightly as her eyes slowly open before me, eyes burning like living flames, charged with unfathomable power. I am taken aback and absorbed by her gaze, hypnotized by the enigmatic beauty that emanates from them.
Suddenly, Beatrice pulls me by the arm rather forcefully, snapping me out of my reverie.
"Don't just stand there in silence," Beatrice comments with evident annoyance in her voice.
The young woman eyes me cautiously, brimming with distrust. For her, this is our first encounter. I incline slightly in a courteous gesture, trying to convey calmness.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marco Luz, the Lord of Irlam and a general in the army," I confidently state as I maintain her gaze.
Upon hearing my introduction, the girl impulsively lunges toward me. Beatrice is about to stop her, but I signal her to wait. She grips me firmly, displaying signs of desperation on her face as her eyes darken.
Her grip tightens, and I can feel the strength in her slender form. Despite her delicate appearance, she radiates unyielding determination.
"Did you kill them?" she shouts furiously, chaos reflected in her gaze, her eyes ablaze with a thirst for revenge and contained tears. "Did you finish those bastards?" she asks without averting her gaze from me.
A smug smile curves my lips as I attempt to free myself from the ironclad grip of her hands, using every ounce of my strength.
"Yes, all the cultists, including the archbishop, are dead; none have survived," I declare, provoking an even more intense gleam in her piercing eyes.
She falls to her knees, striking the ground with her hands. We all stand shocked by her behavior, but she quickly rises.
She has experienced the loss of all her loved ones. It is unlikely that anyone else is alive, which means she has no one and nothing now. Despite her youthful appearance, she seems to be around sixteen, or perhaps a bit older; she is no more than a girl, really.
Her eyes lose their luster, and the fiery red fades into a dull crimson. Having heard my devastating answer, her gaze plunges into an overwhelming void.
There is no time to waste at this moment.
"Tell me everything from the beginning," I command as I help her sit on the bed.
The stifling heat begins to dissipate as Ram opens the window, allowing a warm breeze to enter and refresh the room. The young woman holds back tears as her gaze settles on a necklace she wears around her neck, displaying unyielding determination.
"I will tell you everything, so please listen carefully," she says before beginning to recount the situation.
She explains that the news of the cult's movements had spread among all the villages, keeping everyone on alert and seeking refuge during the nights. However, on that fateful afternoon when no one expected it, a purplish mist began to envelop the town.
Apparently, she also has the ability to see and perceive the miasma, which is even more peculiar, given my theory that only those with a strong spirit or people traumatized can do so.
The density of the miasma drove everyone mad; in the end, it was so intense that she herself couldn't see anything.
"My mother sacrificed herself, fighting against the cultists to allow me to escape," she adds with sadness in her words.
She reveals that her mother is a fire mage and confesses not knowing how they came to the town since her mother never spoke about her past. Finally, she discloses that her mother handed her the necklace before letting her escape.
"There is a hazy fragment of that memory from the moment I lost visual contact with my mother until I reached the town," she admits, bewildered.
This affirms my theory that she was captured and used to attack us from within. What Petelgeuse didn't know is that the young woman would be able to free herself from the grip of the miasma and him, albeit unconsciously.
If her account is accurate, my curiosity about her family deepens even further. However, this is not the right moment to delve into that aspect.
"My apologies for my imprudence, but we currently need to confirm something crucial. I would like to know if you could identify the people from your village," I propose cautiously, trying not to overwhelm her. "We need to understand what exactly happened."
She looks at me with a hint of fear while clenching her fists tightly. She closes her eyes and, after a long sigh, nods.
"If it's only about identifying them, I suppose I can do that," the young woman accepts my proposal with a trembling voice.
She rises and bows before us as a sign of respect.
"Allow me to introduce myself; I am Luan. I have no last name since my mother never revealed it to me, so I introduce myself simply with my name," Luan makes an effort to contain her emotions and remain composed. "Thank you very much for rescuing me."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Luan. Now rest, you can stay here for as long as you like. If you need anything, just call one of the maids; they all know how to assist you," I say as I turn away.
This young woman is extraordinary. The fact that she can dispel the miasma is astounding. I must ensure that I keep her at all costs; if I further investigate her ability, perhaps I can discover a way to combat the miasma.
Without a doubt, I need her.
I cannot share this information about her ability with Roswaal; I will keep this secret to myself and Beatrice.
Ram looks at me as if she expects me to give her some instructions. She will inform Roswaal of everything I tell her, so I cannot confide in her at this moment.
"Watch her closely; Roswaal is likely to arrive tonight or tomorrow morning, and I don't want any mishaps," I tell her with a smile to prevent any relaxation in her attitude.
She clicks her tongue and turns her back on me as I walk away.
Now I have to return to the village; while Emilia rests, I have pending responsibilities there. We need to clean everything and ensure that the cannons are prepared for the battle against the whale, in case it happens. Everything must be ready.
The problem is that I don't have an exact hour or date for it, so I'll have to rely on Crusch and improvise if necessary. I must prepare as quickly as possible.
"It would be best to avoid using magic during these days. Your door has been constantly breaking and repairing itself; although this makes it more resistant, it would be wise to give it a break," Beatrice warns as she looks at me with concern. "Don't forget that we still need to talk about the gene, I suppose."
Though I may not personally sense any evident changes, I now bear the sloth gene. Petelgeuse was able to use magic without complications, but whenever there is a significant presence of miasma, it seems to create interference between my body and the flow of mana.
When Puck appeared during the battle, somehow, my door was repaired. However, I have no idea what will transpire now that I carry the gene of sloth.
"Yes, we can talk before bedtime. For now, I will go to the village to ensure that everything is in order," I respond to Beatrice as I move towards the village.
Next on my agenda is to ascertain how many cannons we have available. I know they are in production, but I'm unaware of how long it will take. In these days, it's best to showcase all our available resources.
The village is becoming more and more beautiful: with its concrete streets adorned with crystalline lights that illuminate it even at night.
If I had to compare it to something, I would say it resembles a small village in my native world.
My goal is to continually improve in every aspect as we expand; when we have more people, we might even be able to build shopping centers. The main idea is to leverage my knowledge to make the best of both worlds.
Now I must head towards the military base; I assume they've taken the wounded there for better care, and it's also where all military matters are managed. The military base was constructed immediately after the conclusion of the second phase of the project.
It's a bit removed from the village for obvious security reasons and consists of a large, spacious two-story building.
This is a vital place with rooms designated for aspiring cadets, as well as important facilities such as a medical ward, command rooms, warehouses, and meeting halls.
As the need arises, we'll expand, but for now, this should suffice.
The entire area is enclosed with iron fences and protected with crystals to prevent any attacks. But that's not all: there are strategically placed traps throughout the area, from mabestias to pre-installed mines.
This place must be impregnable. In the future, I plan to use Beatrice's magic to create separate spaces like the forbidden library or the storerooms.
If only I hadn't lost all that valuable knowledge...
The soldiers greet me upon my arrival. These men are guardians who remained at the military base even during the battle. It's crucial to keep this place as secure as possible.
Upon entering, I admire the grandeur of the building. It's an impressive feat that has required a significant portion of our financial investment and material resources.
I immediately head to the infirmary, eager to learn about the condition of the wounded. Upon arrival, I'm greeted by the weary salutations of several soldiers emerging from the facility, likely in search of their comrades.
Despite the exhaustion etched on their faces, they persevere with stoicism and determination. They are aware of their duty and fight for their own people.
Rem approaches me; she also shows clear signs of fatigue but maintains her characteristic smile.
"Good evening, General," she greets me while handing over a folder. "I present the official report."
I immediately peruse the report. More than half of the wounded have already been discharged and reenlisted to provide aid without delay. Those who sadly lost limbs have been honorably discharged from active military service.
This implies they can no longer serve as soldiers in our ranks.
However, I have decided to offer them employment opportunities within the army's administrative sphere: managing warehouses and performing related tasks. Additionally, they will have a sabbatical year to adapt to their new reality and take advantage of military academies to acquire new knowledge.
In this world, there are magical prosthetics, although we have not delved deeply into them yet. If I can obtain them, perhaps we can consider reintegrating these brave individuals into our armed forces, though I highly doubt they'll wish to return after all that has transpired.
Those patients in critical condition have been stabilized, so now we must wait for them to awaken. This means there will be no more casualties apart from the eight precious lives we have already lost.
A relieved sigh escapes my lips. Our population is still small to achieve the goals I aspire to; every loss represents an immeasurable setback for us.
"Perfect, in that case, you can go and rest," I smile with gratitude. "You have done an excellent job, and once they are stable, we will transfer them to their homes."
I wish to place my hand on her head as a gesture of recognition, but the presence of so many people forces me to maintain formalities. Rem understands this reality and bows before departing.
Now we must take care of contacting the affected families. It is vital to provide them with the necessary support in these challenging times.
I ask one of the soldiers to call the colonel and request his presence in my office. The officer quickly ascends and goes in search of Alsten.
Once inside my office, I focus on managing the preparations. For now, there will be no room for celebrations.
We must ensure that all the deceased receive a dignified funeral, and the battlefield is cleared of corpses before we can think of any kind of festivity.
Roswaal will probably arrive tomorrow, which means we will only have his assistance starting from the following day.
It is imperative that we recruit more people for Irlam so that we can generate our own products and reduce our dependence on the outside.
Fortunately, we are in a mountainous area where we can progress with the extermination of magical beasts and establish our own mines to obtain minerals on our own.
Today, we have halted all production and sent everyone home, making it a day lost from an economic standpoint.
However, the most important thing now is to ensure the constant production of bullets. I know there is a batch about to be released, so we won't have problems during the elections if we need a few additional rounds.
But without a doubt, we cannot withstand another attack without sufficient ammunition.
With a painful throb in my head, I attempt to examine all the documents piled on my desk. Unlike my previous life in another world, here, each one represents scribbles and countless solutions to problems.
Bureaucratic paperwork has become one of the most tedious tasks I've ever witnessed.
I urgently need someone who can take charge of managing all this chaos. I sigh, overwhelmed, wondering when Otto, the next person to join our team, will awaken. Rem already bears too many responsibilities on her shoulders.
Roswaal can handle matters related to the mansion and his personal finances, but Irlam is my exclusive responsibility. I prefer to keep him unaware of my profits and additional details, so I send him concise and less detailed reports.
Just as I am immersed in these thoughts, Alsten makes his timely entrance.
"General!" Alsten performs a flawless military salute. "I've already contacted all the families; they should be arriving shortly."
I quickly rise, and we begin our work. Throughout the night, we organize the situation and explain everything to the families of the wounded. Some understood the sacrifice made by their loved ones, while others succumbed to inconsolable weeping.
For those whose loved ones lost their lives in combat, we were extremely careful and provided them with an intimate space for individual farewells.
We granted them half an hour before allowing the next family group to enter. As the night progressed, all the families left our facilities, and the exhausted soldiers could finally return home.
Silence overtook the place, leaving only whispers and the echo of broken hearts behind.
Tomorrow, we will face the daunting task of collecting all the lifeless bodies scattered on the battlefield. It is crucial for us to identify if they belong to residents of other towns and ensure that each one is properly buried.
The idea of burning the corpses is ruled out due to the environmental damage it would cause, in addition to the toxic smoke that would spread throughout the city.
The only viable solution I can think of is to dig deep graves in a remote area to give these unfortunate individuals a proper burial. Fortunately, this can be achieved with the use of elemental magic.
Being able to manipulate the earth allows for relatively easy excavation of these graves.
I would have liked to keep the bodies exposed for a longer time using our communicators as visual evidence of the terrible attack suffered; however, this option is not entirely feasible.
We will opt to leave the clothing next to the graves while we bury the naked bodies. In this way, at least we will have tangible evidence of what happened.
Sitting in front of my overwhelming desk, my eyes begin to involuntarily close as I attempt to continue with my never-ending mountain of bureaucratic paperwork.
Unable to fight exhaustion any longer, I lean over the desk and allow weariness to take full control over me.