WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Is It Bad That the Main Character’s a Roleplayer?

[Translator – Aren]

◈ Chapter 317 If Only I Could (3)

"...Y-you’re really……”

Faust lowered his eyes as he looked at Gunther’s indescribable expression. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m the only one who survived.’ No matter how many times he said it, the sincerity behind those words would never be enough, yet he swallowed them back as his lifespan trickled away like sand through an hourglass.

"There are so many things I want to say, but I don’t have much time.”

It wasn’t an entirely bad thing. If the time given to him had been endless, Faust might have spent this dreamlike moment doing nothing but repeating the same words over and over.

“Wh-what do you mean? What do you mean you don’t have much time…? No, before that, are you really……?”

But he couldn’t do that.

The boy thought of the one who had been so generous and so kind that he had even given someone like him another chance. ‘I can’t disappoint him any more after causing him this much pain.’ That almost obsessive thought gave the boy strength.

Faust swallowed the blood rising in his throat and chose his words.

"Brother, I know you have a lot you want to ask, but please listen to me first."

Of course, what he was about to say would leave Gunther with many wounds. But there was no avoiding that. From the moment the boy’s family caught the Demon’s eye and were attacked, all of them either slaughtered or turned into sacrifices, that fate had become unavoidable.

"You can ask me everything later. Just listen for now. Please listen, Brother.”

And so, smiling as though he might cry soon, the boy took Gunther’s arm and poured out his story. He placed the nightmare that would never leave him on the tip of his tongue, and the sin he had committed because that nightmare had become too painful to bear.

"We…We were killed by a Demon that day."

Ah, this confession had come far too late.

* * *

"Dad?"

It began with my little sister running out because she thought our father had come home.

"I think Dad’s back!”

The hem of the dress I’d bought her with the allowance I’d received for New Year’s and the money I’d gotten to celebrate entering school fluttered behind her.

"Dad!" She was dazzlingly white. Like sunlight spilling through an opening door.

"Irina!”

But that brightness didn't last long. The moment the child realized that the figure beyond the open door looked nothing like our father, a slight sound escaped her lips.

"Ah?"

She was just seven years old. A rose bloomed in the middle of that tiny body. It was a sight that didn’t suit Irina at all.

A vivid color like that really, truly didn’t belong on this little girl with long gray hair and a white dress.

"No!”

But it already bloomed. It had already pierced her. A black blade that reflected no light, or rather, a blade wrapped thickly in Demonic Energy, had made that flower bloom.

Thud. The child’s tiny body collapsed, and our elder brother nearest to her rushed forward.

[Not you.]

But he never even got to swing his sword. Was the gap in skill simply too great? Or had the sight of our youngest sibling collapsing made him lose all reason?

Any of those could have been true, yet none of them was the real answer. Skill had nothing to do with it. The enemy’s sword had simply been far too fast.

"Kgh."

A line of blood appeared across my brother’s neck before he collapsed where he stood. The sight of him sliding down the wall before crumpling to the floor remained painfully vivid in my mind.

"Arthur!”

The sound of my brother’s sword hitting the floor overlapped with my mother’s voice and the metallic clatter of the muffin tray she’d dropped, echoing through the room. The echo was as sharp as any blade.

"You bastard!”

And through it all, my elder sister charged forward. I could swear that this was the first time I’d ever realized that she was capable of raising her voice with such fury. The same went for seeing tears run from her eyes.

[Not you either.]

If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. Then again, the same probably went for the idea that my brother or sister could die.

To me, those two had always been invincible.

"Run, hurry!”

But reality was different.

Even as I heard my mother behind me, pulling me back, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from my collapsing sister. The blade driven through her chest and reaching all the way to the floor looked like something from a dream. I couldn’t believe it.

"Fasha, go!”

But when my mother grabbed the kitchen knife that had been close to the dining table and stepped in front of me, I had no choice but to accept it. Something was going terribly wrong. Even if I couldn’t comprehend my siblings’ deaths, I had to pick up a weapon and fight right now.

"I’m a Knight too!”

Never let your weapon leave your side, no matter what. Father had always been right. I drew the sword at my waist.

"No, at least you have to escape!”

[Not this one either.]

But I was already too late.

I reflexively pulled my mother toward me. But the sword bent at an unnatural angle and pierced straight through her stomach. “Aagh!” My arm along with it.

[Ah.]

"What’s going on?!”

[Found it.]

So this was how much it hurt to be stabbed. I screamed as I clutched my arm, the blade having been pulled free in an instant and leaving a puncture wound behind.

I heard my father’s voice through my screams, but the pain I’d never experienced before in my life was too overwhelming.

I couldn't properly focus on my father’s presence. For a moment, I didn’t even think of my mother, who had been stabbed. It just hurt. It hurt so much.

"Run, Johanna! Take Faust and go!”

[What’s with you?]

"I-I’m too late. So Faust, go. At least you must get away.”

[Don’t interfere.]

And yet, even then, you kept looking out for me until the very end.

"My precious child, go quickly!”

With one hand pressed against her wounded stomach, my mother kept pushing me forward with the other. How could you do that? My arm had only been stabbed, and I was in this much pain. So how could you, with a pierced stomach…

"Run, Faust!”

I followed those words in a daze. “I love you.” If I’d stayed there, I could have died with all of you at least. “Live.” But I couldn’t bring myself to disobey that desperate plea. “Survive.” Because I couldn’t ignore those words, etched into me as vividly as blood.

"No, no.”

I ran out the back door, sobbing. I couldn't run toward the village. The front entrance, where the enemy had come from, happened to be in the direction leading to it.

Which meant that if I tried to reach the village, I might run straight into the enemy, or even if I didn’t, I might bring danger down on innocent residents.

No, I wasn’t even sure the villagers were still alive. If the blade that had killed my brother and sister in an instant had also been turned on them, they would have had almost no way to resist.

So I couldn’t go that way. Rather than gamble on a possibility I couldn’t be certain of, I slid down the hillside.

I had to get to the city wall. I had to find the wizards there and contact the main castle. That was my only hope.

-Booom!

But when an enormous surge of energy blossomed like a flower in full bloom, I turned my head as if some sort of instinct had warned me. I could only stare at the flames spreading outward in a sphere and the ground that was incinerated in an instant until nothing remained.

[Damn it, for a mortal that guy’s pointlessly strong……]

A realization suddenly struck me.

[Shit, my body’s falling apart. Goddammit, this is why I needed to conserve my Demonic Energy……]

That was the last time.

The last time I’d ever be able to see any of you again.

[Ratel.]

Despair flowed liked tears, and hopelessness sprouted like shoots and wrapped around me. The light-colored liquid did the same.

It enveloped my body like slime and bound my hands and feet. Resistance wasn't even something I could dream of. It was tougher and more resilient than my still-young body.

[I need to get away before the mortals come……]

And when the liquid finally covered even my vision, I lost consciousness.

Rustle, rustle, rustle, rustle. Through my half-hidden vision, I could see the liquid that had swallowed both me and someone else slithering across the ground. Very quickly, and very silently. Like wind slipping through a field of wheat.

[...We should be safe now that we’ve come this far.]

My memories immediately afterward aren’t clear. But I distinctly remember the castle wall stained red by the sunset, something white quietly passing over it, and then the dark forest spreading out beyond.

Moonlight filtered faintly between the trees of the night forest.

[That god was watching you, so I wondered what the fuss was about. But I guess there really was a reason for it. You truly are an excellent vessel.]

By then, I had started thinking again. Not clearly through. There was someone melting like ice on a summer day at the edge of my vision, so there was no way I could have been in my right mind.

[Well, I guess the reason god took notice of you wasn’t your vessel, but because your soul is this enormous……]

But that almost illusory person, not caring that their body was melting away, pulled a sword from their own chest. Their collapse accelerated. It looked as though the sword were taking everything from them.

[What matters to me is your body, capable of containing such an enormous soul, though. Isn’t that right?]

No…was that really a sword? I stared blankly at the thing that merely looked like one. My mind was hazy as though I were half asleep, making it hard to judge, but I was still tired.

[Tell me your name, child.]

Ah, it wasn’t a sword. It was a person. After concentrating for a long while, the truth finally came into view.

[You possess an excellent vessel, and your soul is more than worthy of being used as a sacrifice. I’m certain you’ll become my finest card.]

What looked like a sword was actually a slender arm. An arm wrapped in pitch-black clothing. But its very nature was sharp as thorns, the sort of thing that would cut and pierce whatever it grasped.

[So give me your name. So that I can possess everything that is yours.]

An evil that knew only how to speak sweetly, with no idea how to hide itself.

[Hm?]

So I wondered. What were you supposed to say to something like this?

"...bs.."

What would Brother Gunya and Brother Atya, what would Sister Alya have said?

"Act your damn age before I rearrange your ribs, you little rat-shit-like bastard……”

[.......]

After barely managing to recall what they’d said before heading out on patrol, I slipped back into unconsciousness. My head hurt too much and was too foggy for me to do anything else.

[Ah… It’s dangerous to take over a body without first stealing its name……]

Ah, please. When I wake up next time, let this nightmare be over.

[Whatever. It’s just a brat, so it’ll be fine.]

Of course, nothing like that ever happened.

* * *

"I tried to endure it. I really did, but I couldn’t."

Gunther stared blankly at the confession pouring out before him. I see. So that was what happened.

"It hurt so much, it was so unbearable, that I ended up making a contract with that Demon. I selfishly decided to sacrifice other people instead of myself.”

So this was what had been behind the disappearance of the people who had been like family to him.

"I shouldn't have done that……”

Of course, someone might say, "Do you really believe what this being is telling you? You have no proof of who they really are or anything you can trust in." Hadn’t the people from the Temple even said they sensed the Demonic Energy of a Great Demon from this person?

“Please help him, Brother. I’m begging you.”

But Gunther, the Gunya who had once had a little brother named Fasha, knew all of that and still chose to believe him.

There was no reason. He simply believed. Even without evidence, even without proof, he knew this was his little brother. So he trusted him.

"I know everything I’m saying, even this appearance itself, could look like a Demon’s trick. But it isn’t. Please believe me.”

After all, if an older brother wouldn’t trust his younger brother, who would? His little brother was telling him this. If he, his brother, refused to believe him, just who else would believe him then?

"He isn’t someone who should have to suffer like this here. He should never have to suffer in a nightmarish place like this.”

But what would his Knights and the residents say if they learned about this decision? At the very least, they certainly wouldn’t praise him.

The position of the Young Lord was that of the one who would one day become the next Lord, so he could never afford to act on emotion.

"I’m really sorry for suddenly appearing and asking something like this of you. But you’re the only person I can ask, Brother. You have influence with the Temple as well……”

"...Fasha."

But he wasn’t afraid of their condemnation. Hadn’t he been saying the same thing all along from the very beginning?

He wasn’t someone suited to being the Young Lord, nor was he someone who wanted to become the Young Lord. He was simply someone who wanted to be one person’s family, someone who had dreamed of becoming a Knight because of that but had been unable to do so. He had been saying it all along.

"He said he’d endure 9 years for me. So please, at least let him spend those 9 years in peace…I don’t care what happens after that, so please, just for those 9 years, take his side. Help him so he doesn't have to suffer anymore. Please, please, Brother."

"Fasha."

"Please, Brother……”

"Faust."

And so. Because of that.

"I will.”

Gunther cast aside his title and pulled his younger brother, someone who could no longer be called a boy, into his arms.

"I promise, I definitely will."

He embraced the child he would forever call his family, though they didn’t share a single drop of blood.

"I believe you. Everything you’re saying, everything you’re asking of me. So Fasha…I’ll do anything for you. Anything at all.”

"......!"

"Just knowing you’re alive makes me happy.”

It was a warmth he could never afford to lose again.

"...Brother."

"I’ll do anything. I can do everything for you……”

He pressed his forehead against the crying child’s. The warmth that met him was only lukewarm, and that broke his heart, but now none of that mattered. As long as his little brother was alive, that was enough for him.

“So, Fasha, please. Please don’t ever disappear again.”

As long as this warmth never vanished again, that alone would truly be enough……

"So, Fasha, please. Please don’t ever disappear again……”

"...Brother Gunya.”

Ah, please let this moment not be a dream. Please let the fact that you’re alive not be a lie.

"Don’t go. Don’t leave me again. You don’t have to do anything, so please, just stay by my side……”

Gunther begged as he held the boy who had only grown in height yet was still frozen in that distant past.

Please let this not be some worthless delusion of his. Please let the fact that you had returned and were speaking to him not be a fantasy his mind had created.

If only that could be true, he could offer up his own life without a shred of regret.

"...I can’t do that. I don’t have the right.”

"Why don’t you?!”

But even in the face of his desperate wish, the answer he wanted didn’t come.

“Why don’t you have the right?!”

Clinging to the ash that had failed to become a jewel, he cried out desperately. It was almost like a last struggle. The thrashing of someone who didn’t want to die, the desperate flailing of someone who didn’t want to lose the meaning of his life. Something like that.

"It’s not like you wanted any of this, so why……?!”

"Brother, brother……”

And at that desperation, the boy smiled as though he were about to cry. Something about it had changed, yet it was still the same smile.

"Until the Demon leaves, I can’t take control of this body whenever I want."

"Wh-why……?!”

"There are many reasons…but this is probably the one you’ll understand.”

A clear, beautiful smile, so light it almost seemed weightless.

"If I stay out like this, I won’t live much longer. Look, my nose is already bleeding like this. It’s proof that my lifespan is being used up.”

Yet the softly spoken words and the blood streaming from his nose were unbearably heavy.

"Wh-why……?”'

"...So, since I’ll have to leave things to him anyway, I want to follow his wishes. I’m already shameless enough as it is. I can’t decide what happens to him as well, right?”

"I-I…you……”

"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Brother.”

At the boy’s apology, Gunther finally understood completely. He had no choice but to watch him leave. He was going to leave him again. He was going to be alone again……

"...It’s okay."

But then he realized one more truth.

"It’s okay. As long as you’re alive, I’m okay with anything……”

Compared to not even knowing whether he was alive or dead, Gunther could endure something like this as long as needed.

"Just…stay alive. Just stay alive, Fasha……”

Yes, compared to that, this was truly nothing at all……

Gunther simply bowed his head.

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