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The night forest was steeped in profound silence.
Only the sharp crackle of bursting firewood struck Genau’s eardrums, echoing with a hollow emptiness. Though the campfire before him burned a bright, angry red, his skin seemed to reject its radiating heat.
At the edge of his vision lay the bodies of the people from his former home, recovered by the hands of the Realm Knights. The coffins holding their remains were lined up in the dark.
Revolte of the Divine Magic.
Even though they had finally slain the Greater Demon, what swirled within Genau’s chest was not a sense of accomplishment, but a guilt as heavy as mud.
(…In the end, I couldn't fully play the part of the ruthless bastard, could I.)
That truth tormented him like a curse. On the battlefield, ruthlessness is a weapon. For the sake of the objective, you abandon people; you kill. That was how he had lived. And that was how he had intended to keep living.
"Genau. So you are still awake."
A voice like a chiming bell pierced the quiet. He knew who it was without turning around. Methode. She approached soundlessly and took a seat beside him.
"…Do you need something?"
"No. I simply thought I would like to talk with you for a little while."
Her voice was as gentle as the night breeze. Her gaze followed the flames Genau was staring at, settling on the ruins of his hometown swallowed by the darkness, and the coffins of those who had lived there.
She softly lowered her eyes and clasped her hands over her chest. It was a fiercely quiet, untainted posture of prayer.
"I pray the people of your village find swift passage to the land of rest," she murmured.
The flickering flames illuminated her profile, as smooth and pale as white porcelain. Catching sight of her face at the edge of his vision, Genau asked in a low, dry voice.
"…Do you believe in the afterlife?"
The villagers whose lives had been senselessly stolen by demons, reduced to voiceless corpses?was there truly salvation for their souls? It was a self-deprecating question, aching with the pain of his own powerlessness.
However, Methode slowly opened her eyes. And with incredible simplicity, she smiled like a patch of spring sunlight.
"Yes. Because that is the Goddess’s work."
"…Is that so."
At her words, Genau let out a small breath. The brightly burning heat faintly brushed against his chilled cheek.
(The Goddess’s work… huh.)
It was a phrase with an endlessly cold, almost dismissive ring to it. And yet, it was a businesslike answer that mysteriously seemed to wash away the guilt swirling like mud deep within his chest.
Though they hadn’t known each other long, Methode never offered words that were merely sweet. She didn’t voice cheap sympathy or makeshift comfort. She spoke only after carefully discerning the truth and reason of the matter. Her presence, poised perfectly upon that exquisite balance, resonated within Genau now with a painful clarity.
"Genau."
Methode’s voice sent a soft tremor through the silence-filled air.
"I have decided I want to be like you."
At those sudden, unexpected words, Genau furrowed his brow and replied as if spitting the words out.
"…I told you not to. Those who immerse themselves in battle and devote themselves to ruthlessness don't die a decent death."
"Is that really true?"
A dampness akin to the night wind crept into Methode’s voice.
"I believe the Goddess surely watches over someone who so fervently mourns the regrets of his hometown… and his fallen partner."
Genau snorted with self-deprecating laughter and returned his gaze to the campfire.
"Do you really think someone like that exists? If they do, they're a massive fool."
"…Isn't the person sitting right beside me exactly that?"
Methode’s whisper, pregnant with faint irony, struck Genau’s ears. Her gaze was sharp, yet serene. No words of rebuttal left Genau’s mouth. No?he couldn't form them. His unrefined, lingering true nature, hidden beneath a thick mask of "cold-heartedness," had been effortlessly seen through.
Silence descended between them. Genau didn't move a muscle, simply continuing to stare into the core of the burning flames. Remorse, and the uncomfortable sensation of having his sore spot struck, slowly mixed within his chest.
How much time had passed? A faint rustle of clothing sounded from beside him, and a voice, softer than before, broke the quiet.
"…I apologize, Genau. That was presumptuous of me to say…"
At the gentle resonance of Methode’s voice, Genau let out a small sigh without even realizing it. The tension in his stiffened shoulders suddenly melted away.
English Translation (Part 2)
"...No, don't apologize."
He spat the words out. Yet, his voice carried no intention of pushing her away.
"It's the truth. Much as I loathe to admit it."
A fool who couldn't fully commit to being cold-blooded, his heart forever chained to the dead. Her merciless observation pierced deep into Genau's chest. But strangely, that pain felt terribly comforting to him right now.
"I ought to be a ruthless bastard. If I had been, I wouldn't have caused Stark to bleed for nothing. Because of me, a young warrior wandered into the jaws of death..."
Genau's confession was swallowed by the darkness of the night. If only he could kill his emotions and become a mere cog carrying out its mission. But the lingering softness within him that he couldn't completely discard had, as a result, wounded a young man with a future.
"I might just refuse to use the Goddess's magic for such a 'ruthless person,' you know?"
Methode did not yield. What sliced through the silence was neither comfort nor pity. It was a declaration?somewhat provocative, yet harboring a profound, almost searing affection in its depths.
"...Abandonment of duty?"
"...Running from reality?"
Genau inhaled sharply, instinctively turning his face toward Methode. Their gazes collided. No further words were necessary. Just those four words?running from reality?deeply gouged into the mask Genau had patched together, utterly rejecting it.
"Fine. You're right... Stark said the same thing to me. It seems I am a 'good guy' after all."
"Yes. You are a 'good person' who clings most preciously to the mask of a 'terrible one.'"
A small, yet soft smile graced Methode's lips. It was a smile that seemed to gently peel away the facade Genau had so stubbornly tried to protect.
"For a Genau like that, I can use the Goddess's magic as much as you need."
"That's half a threat, Methode."
"Is that how it sounded?"
The campfire popped. In the fleeting light it cast, the sharp edge in Genau's eyes dulled ever so slightly. Wishing to be a monster, yet despairing at his inability to be one. It was as if that very contradiction was the only mourning he could offer the hometown he had fought to protect.
"If you remain exactly as you are, Genau, I can die in peace."
"...What is that supposed to mean? What kind of logic is that?"
"Because when I die, you will surely... carry my regrets and walk forward in my stead."
Methode wore a gentle smile, like a patch of spring sunlight. For someone speaking of death, her tone was unimaginably sweet and brimming with absolute certainty.
"To think that even after death, there is someone who will remember you... that is a very happy thing, don't you think?"
Something stubbornly sealed shut within Genau finally broke. To a man who cursed his own softness as a hex, who clung to being a terrible person?the utterly innocent trust she directed at him struck his heart. She had declared it a "happiness" to be remembered after death by a cursed man like himself.
"...You are beyond saving... No, I suppose... so am I."
His voice carried a faint tremor, mingled with a deep resonance.
"...But you don't need to worry about that."
"Huh?"
At the sudden, definitive words thrown her way, Methode seemed to let out a small gasp. For just an instant, genuine surprise dwelled in the eyes of a woman who never lost her composure.
Genau tore his gaze from the flames and looked straight into Methode's eyes. His emotions violently reversed course.
"Methode... I will not let you die. I'll stake my entire life on it."
What spilled from the lips of the man trying to live as a ruthless bastard was a heavy, straightforward vow?one that would bind his very way of life. Put into words, it was entirely too clumsy. It was a deeply arrogant statement, unbecoming of a First-Class Mage.
Methode narrowed her eyes affectionately. It looked almost like a gaze of reverence for the man who had offered a new chain to bind himself with.
"...I see. In that case, I will support you by your side... so that you can keep your promise to the very end."
It was the reply of a partner who had resolved to walk through hell alongside him. A quiet vow from a woman who had shared a piece of her soul.
The stillness of the night enveloped the two of them. It was the moment these two, living their daily lives side-by-side with death, carved an indelible mark upon each other's lives.
The veil of night grew even deeper. Only the crackling of the campfire echoed, as if it were everything in the world.
"...I leave myself in your care."
Methode quietly offered her right hand. Genau stared intently at it. It was a slender, pale hand, yet it hid the quiet resilience of a mage who had slipped through countless brushes with death. Cursing his own arrogance for voicing a vow so unlike himself, Genau slowly reached out with his large palm and grasped her hand, enveloping it completely.
What transmitted between them was a faint body heat, and the inescapable, heavy pressure of entrusting their lives to one another. Strangely, that weight felt comforting, melting away the thorns of guilt that had pierced Genau's chest, little by little.
"...Methode. If you are going to become like me, does that mean when I die, you will carry my regrets as well?"
At his sudden question, Methode nodded without hesitation.
"Of course. If that is what you would do, Genau, then I shall do the same."
At her soft tone, Genau huffed a laugh.
But Methode didn't stop there. Keeping her eyes on the campfire, a certain allure mingled with a terribly cold ring in her voice.
"I will trace every step that led to your regrets. And if I find any absurdity or betrayal that disgraced you... know that I am prepared to raise hell on a scale that would surprise even myself."
Behind her gentle smile flickered the bare madness and obsession of a First-Class Mage.
It was an all-too-quiet declaration of war: If you die, I will not forgive this world.
With a faint shudder running down his spine, Genau let out a dry chuckle from the back of his throat.
"...Now it's even harder for me to die easily."
He could effortlessly imagine this brilliant, terrifying woman going on a rampage as an avatar of vengeance after he passed from this world.
Methode narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, her voice returning to that patch of spring sunlight as she drove the point home.
"Indeed. So please, do not die easily, alright?"
Silence returned, and the firewood popped once again.
The quiet after exchanging words so earnest, so incredibly heavy.
Yet, that weight did not constrict Genau's heart.
To say he felt completely unburdened might be an exaggeration. But having entrusted half his soul to her, Genau felt his "usual" self returning to him.
A First-Class Mage: cold, detached, and loyal to his duties.
And yet, a man who also unconsciously failed to read the room. With a completely straight face, he voiced a frank thought that suddenly crossed his mind.
"...Say, Methode."
"Yes?"
As she tilted her head with a smile, Genau asked without any hidden agenda.
"Didn't those words from earlier... sound a bit like a proposal?"
"..."
Beside him, he sensed Methode quietly gasp.
Caught in the corner of his eye, she looked like a completely different person from the woman who never lost her composure; she was visibly flustered. Her narrowed eyes widened slightly, and her perfectly shaped lips trembled faintly as if searching for words.
Maintaining her mature dignity while inexplicably faltering, she looked defenseless and terribly adorable.
However, Genau didn't feel a shred of panic.
He didn't even tilt his head at her sudden silence.
He genuinely just wondered if the meaning of his words hadn't gotten across.
"...Did you not notice? That part about 'staking my entire life'..."
"...I'm fine, Genau. I noticed... I had a feeling..."
Unable to bear it, Methode cut him off in a squeezed voice.
When he turned his gaze to her, she was covering her mouth with one hand, having finally let go of the adult mask she had been barely holding onto. An undeniable flush of red was slowly dyeing her skin from her cheeks to the tips of her ears.
The mage who always read ahead and gently toyed with him had completely lost her pace.
"...You didn't have to go out of your way to point that out..."
Her voice, spun in protest, had lost its usual teasing ring and carried a feverish heat.
Her eyes darted around, her brows furrowing in distress.
Genau simply stared intently at her utterly defenseless blush.
She, who had always played with him and never let her effortless smile fade, was crumbling because of his single careless remark. Seeing this fact, Genau felt his own true nature fall perfectly into place within him.
Those words were once a curse that bound him.
That sound was once a cold blade used to condemn himself for his inability to be ruthless.
Now, it had turned into a tool to mildly fluster the brilliant woman beside him.
"...You know, don't you?"
Genau narrowed his eyes as if cherishing the campfire's flames, and quietly declared one last time.
"I am a terrible guy."
His voice was gentle enough to melt away into the night wind.
Because I'm a terrible guy, I won't let you die alone.
Because I'm a terrible guy, I'll keep thinking of you until the very end.
And because I'm that kind of terrible guy, you'll follow me, won't you?
Fin.