WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 204: Good Heavens
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The transmission had ended, but Guspell could do nothing but sit in his chair and think for a long time.
Garod would not have given him false information. It was true that he had been driven into a corner at headquarters. Their father had been trapped on the dark frontier for twenty-five years, and Garod had held the real power at headquarters throughout that long time. However, headquarters' finest researchers had gone to the dark frontier with their father, so the authority Garod held was hollow.
In reality, headquarters only operated on the new technologies their father sent over and the technologies they had developed and secured so far. Garod felt wronged by headquarters' poor performance, but...
'Failing to discover new talent for twenty-five years is Brother's incompetence.'
There was a reason all of Garod's business plans had been rejected. Garod was an ordinary manager. Their father, Duke Oun, was someone who would never be satisfied with ordinary.
'The slump caused by incompetence... The funds poured into developing the dark frontier will be recouped once Father opens his purse. But the chances of Brother becoming the next chairman are slim.'
Headquarters had already been overtaken by the Central Branch in performance. Aia Vernes, the head of the Central Branch's Armaments Bureau, was a talent difficult to replace anywhere in the Crows. Orban had personally discovered, sponsored, and trained her. On top of that, based on the connection he had formed with Kyle eleven years ago, Orban had continued building ties with Alastor and even secured the development rights to the unclaimed East.
Father would have chosen Orban as his successor even if Orban had done nothing. Now, he did not even need to consider it.
Because Garod had joined hands with Guspell.
'When Father returns, he'll die by Father's hand. Even if Father doesn't return, he won't be able to avoid responsibility for all the money he siphoned off and squandered. Brother has no choice but to bet everything on me.'
There was no need to question whether the information was true. That meant Guspell was the one who had to make a decision.
Guspell groaned softly and clutched his hair.
The sensation against his scalp felt hollow. Guspell swallowed and slowly lowered his hand. A clump of fallen hair was caught between his fingers.
His body trembled as he poured the medicine on his desk into his mouth. Then he injected himself directly.
"Goddammit..."
He had gained much by turning his human body into one of the Demon Tribe. His formerly skeletal body had become muscular. His ordinary Spirit Root had disappeared, and like a member of the Demon Tribe, he could now naturally sense and control mana. He had also succeeded in transplanting a Demon King Inscription into the vessel he had created.
He had even overcome the physical collapse caused by Mana Addiction, one of the Demon Tribe's greatest weaknesses.
But this success was only half complete.
He had not overcome Madness Erosion, another of their weaknesses. The greatest problem, however, was still his lifespan.
He was holding on with medicine and injections, but there was no knowing when his life would end. The price of changing one's inborn race was this enormous.
'To overcome it, I need to become the Demon King. No... There is one more way now.'
Lucia Beliar.
The Half-blood vice captain of the Sword Wolf Knights.
The people working on chimera research had been taken by the Demon King's Castle, and he had not heard that a successful case existed. Still, Guspell had succeeded in modifying his body into one of the Demon Tribe thanks to the materials on chimera creation and research.
If he could secure a flawless finished product, he might be able to improve this body. If he was lucky, he might even be able to extract Lucia's Demon King Inscription and transplant it into himself as well.
'If I'm... lucky.'
Unable to clutch his hair anymore, Guspell leaned his chair back.
Even with his brother's support, killing their father was impossible. To kill their father, he had no choice but to bring in another successor candidate.
His wish to become the Demon King was sincere. But Guspell Rubalt was not brave or desperate enough to stake everything on a single dream. To become the Demon King, he would have to kill all the other successors and remain the sole survivor, but the remaining competitors were too strong.
First Prince Varka Aspel.
Thirty-seventh Princess Lizet Beliar.
Thinking about it calmly, Guspell could not fight either of them. The only reason he was even considered a competitor was because the Demon King had provided troops. Yet even with that support, his forces still could not surpass theirs.
'Those two don't even see me as a threat. They think they can catch and kill someone like me whenever they want.'
Or perhaps they thought he had some use.
Guspell lowered his gaze to his chest.
'The Inscription extraction technique is complete. If I offer this up, I can survive the succession contest without dying.'
The question was who to offer it to.
The first name that came to mind was Lizet Beliar.
She was a madwoman who had declared a Half-blood with whom she likely did not share a single drop of blood to be her younger sister, then searched for her whereabouts. He could not understand why she had done that, but...
If that Half-blood possessed a Demon King Inscription, he could roughly understand the circumstances. The Inscription of Azel Beliar, who had died on Beltua Island eleven years ago, had likely transferred to Lucia for some reason.
Giving her the Beliar surname and declaring Lucia her younger sister was still the incomprehensible act of a madwoman, but even if that bond was one-sided, Lizet clearly cared for Lucia.
'If I offer up my Inscription and extract hers without killing the Half-blood...'
Guspell thought for a long while after that. Then he pulled out several more hairs, ground his teeth, and rose from his seat.
He had made up his mind.
* * *
"He'll side with Varka Aspel."
Duke Oun muttered as he pushed a straw into his adjustable beak.
[Why are you so certain?]
"Because Guspell is a dumbass and a coward. When it counts, he looks after himself."
Sluuurp.
Duke Oun sucked up the contents of the pouch attached to the straw.
"The Fist Demon is a diehard fighter. Above all, she's the woman who killed her own younger brother. Even if extracting an Inscription is possible, she isn't the type to do it. She considers fighting, winning, killing, and taking it to be honorable. She won't tolerate running from that fight."
After emptying a nutritional pouch in one gulp, Duke Oun tore open another pouch and inserted the straw.
"Varka Aspel, on the other hand, isn't as extreme as the Fist Demon. He has long been sickened by blood relatives fighting to the death. He can secure an Inscription without needing to kill anyone. Varka is the only one Guspell can negotiate with using what he holds."
[As... expected.]
"I don't know what the Fist Demon truly feels for Lady Lucia when she calls her little sister, but a woman who killed her own younger brother because he was not honorable would never be happy to see Lady Lucia withdraw from the succession contest. Haha... A chimera. The Demon King had an interesting idea."
[Even you did not know about the chimera, Father?]
"I did not know about research in the Northern Branch, especially research the Demon King was personally involved in."
Duke Oun chuckled and took another long sip through his straw.
"How is the Sword Tower doing?"
[Grand Duke Julius recently visited the Imperial Palace. We could not determine the reason for his visit, but...]
"It must be related to the East. That Imugi over there will not discuss anything with the Empire."
[The budget for developing the East is enormous. Is it really all right to spend so much without getting anything in return?]
"Garod, you fool. Why do you think there is no return? Developing that unclaimed land exclusively means planting the Crows' flag across a vast territory. There may be few people now, but humans are a race that multiplies in great numbers given enough time. Even more so if resources are abundant."
Duke Oun clicked his tongue.
"The land of the East itself is an enormous resource. If the Crows develop it exclusively, and if Lord Kyle truly becomes that land's master, the Crows will prosper for the next several hundred years."
[...]
"Garod, surely you aren't still dreaming of becoming chairman? Give it up. You are not suited to be chairman. Orban does not entirely satisfy me either, but he is still better than you. Give up your immediate greed and focus on raising your son well."
Unlike Orban, who was not yet married, Garod had a son.
"It is fortunate that my grandson is bright. I have already spoken with Orban, so yield the next chairmanship to him. Your son will become chairman after the next one."
[I... understand. But Chairman, will you keep leaving Galea alone?]
"Of all my children, Galea is the one best suited to be chairman. Her mind has gone mad, but she has devoted everything to her dream. It is not a dream worth supporting or helping, but is it not a father's duty to at least watch over his child?"
Duke Oun chuckled and pulled the straw from his mask's beak.
"Anyway... We only need to wait until Guspell brings Varka into this and starts moving. Give him the support I mentioned before."
[Understood.]
The transmission ended.
Duke Oun clicked his tongue and slowly shook his head.
"Garod, the reason you are not fit to be chairman is because you have never properly defied my will even once."
His second son, Guspell, might be a moron, but he had defied his father's will. Galea was the same. Both were caught up in insane dreams, but they still dreamed and strove forward.
But not Garod.
He had never dreamed for himself or worked toward anything. He had only lived on the rails Duke Oun laid down for him, and he had not even run along them. If Garod had pushed forward with the business plans that had been rejected, even on his own authority...
Even if he had failed, Duke Oun would have been pleased.
"He's so afraid of failure that he doesn't even try."
Duke Oun clicked his tongue again.
How could someone born into an environment where he could rise again no matter how many times he failed be so cowardly?
This time was the same. When Guspell suggested killing Duke Oun, Garod immediately contacted Duke Oun and told him the situation. Since then, Garod had served as his eyes and ears, and at times, his mouth as well, guiding the situation.
'Varka Aspel... One alone is not enough. It would be better to bring in Lizet Beliar too.'
Even if those two demons and their followers joined the battle, Duke Oun could control them.
'That I can control them is the problem.'
Tap. Tap.
Duke Oun tapped his mask with a finger as he sank into thought.
He loved variables. Anything born from a situation he could calculate and control would ultimately remain within the range of what Duke Oun could predict.
That was why he needed Kyle.
The boy born with chaos within him, the boy named the Turning Point, greatly changed the flow of fate. The chimera was proof enough. Only traces of the master-servant Inscription remained in that chimera's head, and it was barely functioning.
'The master-servant Inscription placed during the creation process was half destroyed. That means it broke it through its own power... That must have been Lord Kyle's influence too.'
To make proper use of that natural chaos, he needed a variable beyond his control. How should he arrange the board? Did he have no choice but to move forward?
This land was a mass of variables, and Kyle was favored by the gods.
'No, no. The idea of arranging the board further is wrong itself. I already have everything I need. What I should do is move forward with Lord Kyle. Hm... Still, would it be better to prepare at least a minimal path?'
The finger tapping his beak sped up, and Duke Oun's thoughts shifted quickly.
'I showed it to him as an example, but is he clever enough to realize it on his own? Should I just kindly tell him how? Time... Time is the problem. If it takes too long, Lord Kyle will get away. As we move forward, set things in motion, delay the messenger... A month at most?'
Duke Oun loved variables, but that did not mean he loved failure.
The success of struggling through an uncontrollable situation and somehow making it work was what Duke Oun loved.
'Alastor is beyond my control. If Alastor takes Lord Kyle back, the only way I can stop them is... to fight.'
That was not what he wanted.
If the messenger arrived at Alastor in a month at most, there was a high chance the Sword Church Master would come in person. No matter how prepared he was, it would be impossible to face that monstrous elf.
'In the end, I have no choice but to win Lord Kyle over.'
He made his decision.
Duke Oun sprang from his chair. Kyle had not entirely put down his guard yet, but he had begun to take an interest in Duke Oun.
"Sincerity truly does get through in the end."
He was in no position to remove his mask, so they could not share a meal. Nor could he invite Kyle for a drink.
Should he suggest a light spar? No, that would not work either. Kyle's body had not fully recovered yet.
Then a walk? A tour of Base 43, where they had arrived today? A demonstration of the new technology they had developed over twenty-five years?
Should he suddenly ask what Kyle's hobbies were?
...A word chain game?
What in the world should he do to completely open that boy's heart and win him over...
Boom!
At the thunderous noise, Duke Oun stopped just as he was about to leave the room.
"?"
Why had he heard a thunderous noise?
Could Guspell and Varka Aspel have already reached an agreement and launched an attack? That was impossible. Guspell would be agonizing over his decision right about now. Nor could members of the Demon Tribe or external entities have discovered the base.
This battle base could never be seen from outside unless someone inside revealed it.
Then why was there a thunderous noise?
Boom!
When it rang out again, Duke Oun turned from the door and approached the window.
"Good heavens."
Duke Oun could not help blurting it out.
A dragon covered in bright red scales was floating outside the barrier.
A dragon...
It could not be one.
There were no dragons left in this world. Velatus, the Dragon Queen and last dragon, had died in the East ten years ago. The only one still carrying on that race's lineage was the Imugi, which had forsaken becoming an Eastern dragon.
In other words, that was not a dragon.
It was only something resembling one, covered in dragon scales.
Duke Oun knew what it was.
Velatus's corpse, brought from the East ten years ago. The Dragon Queen's body had been coveted by the Emperor, but Alastor had refused to hand it over. It had been dismantled in Alastor's workshop and used for Alastor's benefit.
That was what had used the greatest number of scales.
A dragon-shaped vehicle made directly by dwarves.
As far as Duke Oun knew, Alastor was the only one on the continent with such an enormous vehicle.
'Alastor? How? Why?'
Questions spun through his mind.
Then it opened its mouth.
Boom!
The breath it fired struck the barrier again. Its power exceeded the barrage of two hundred and thirty combat golems that had struck the barrier at the previous base.
The barrier did not break.
Then its chest opened, and someone emerged from within, stopping in midair.
"Good heavens!"
Duke Oun shouted in alarm, opened the window, and leaped outside.
Just moments ago, he had thought that if Alastor came, the Sword Church Master would most likely come as well.
And that was exactly what had happened.
The one who had emerged was a beautiful elf with green hair.
The continent's greatest sword, Sword Church Master Helenas.
She drew a pitch-black sword from its sheath and raised it to strike the barrier.
"Stop!"
Duke Oun cried out as if screaming and flew into the sky. Passing through the barrier, he spread both arms and blocked Helenas's path.
"Stop, stop! You must never bring that sword down!"
"Garcia."
Helenas stopped the sword above her head and stared directly at Duke Oun.
"L... Long time no see, Sword Church Master. When was the last time we met? Thirty years ago, perhaps?"
"Give me Kyle."
"Wait... Wait! I think there is a misunderstanding. I am not holding Lord Kyle here against his will!"
"So he is here after all."
That had been a leading question?
An elf could do that too?
Duke Oun felt as though he had been struck in the head with a hammer, then hurriedly came to his senses.
"Lord Kyle is inside. But as I just said, I absolutely, absolutely have not been detaining Lord Kyle!"
How had Alastor, how had the Sword Church Master, come here?
The messenger should still be wandering leisurely through the dark frontier.
"If you are not detaining him, why is Kyle here? Are you saying he wanted to remain in this place?"
"That is..."
"No way."
Helenas declared it before Duke Oun could answer.
"Sword Church Master, please calm down and lower your sword first. Then we can talk..."
"Kyle?"
Once again, Helenas did not let Duke Oun finish.
Kyle had come out below.
The moment she saw Kyle sitting in a wheelchair, Helenas's eyes trembled violently. She drew in a deep breath, then glared at Duke Oun.
"Garcia, did you hurt him?"
"Absolutely not! I treated Lord Kyle!"
"Is that true?"
"Why would I tell such a lie?"
"Thank you."
With that, Helenas sheathed her sword.
Kyle looked up at the sky with a bewildered expression.
Helenas... And was that the Iron Dragon?
It was covered in red scales, but judging by its shape, it seemed to be the Iron Dragon.
"Lord Kyle...! Alastor is here!"
Lucia said brightly.
Kyle swallowed and nodded as he watched the Iron Dragon descend.
Thud.
'They came this quickly. I only woke up a short while ago... Ah.'
Kyle realized that thought was wrong.
He had awakened only half a day ago, but three days had passed since he had emerged from the rift and returned to the world.
The Iron Dragon's chest opened, and stairs descended.
Kyle moved his wheelchair forward, wondering who would come out from inside.
"Kyle!"
A voice he had not expected rang out.
Before the stairs had even fully descended, Arian jumped down.
Aslan came down after her, and then...
A girl with red hair and golden eyes descended.
"Ah."
A trembling voice slipped from Kyle's lips.
Footnotes:
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