“Leave the rest to me.”

With those final words, His Majesty suddenly collapsed, devoid of strength.

“….!”

No. 21, who had been standing next to him, quickly caught him. His sudden loss of consciousness and lifeless slump suggested he was in a critical state.

Aslan, who had rushed over a moment too late and was checking his pulse out of his medical habits, turned deathly pale.

“His pulse is…!”

Faced with this unbelievable fact, the boy felt dizzy.

“Ba-Bart… His Majesty’s pulse, it’s stopped?”

This wasn’t just fainting. It was death…

Aslan’s hands shook violently.

No. 21 seemed a little surprised, but he soon reassured everyone with a calm voice, “His soul has merely ventured somewhere for a while. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“What happened to His Majesty Bart?”

“Didn’t I tell you? This is not his original body. It’s okay.”

That man tends to wander about, soul-bound, proficient in playing with the dead.

With that addendum, No. 21 casually rearranged his robes and lifted His Majesty, who had fallen limp. To Aslan’s proposal to help carry the burden, he shook his head.

“Homunculi are much lighter than human bodies.”

Just as he said, even while carrying His Majesty Bart, No. 21’s movements did not change noticeably. Once again, under his guidance, the group hurried toward the crossroads of the underworld. However, the problems of His Majesty’s absence began to surface from then on.

Before long, the weary steps of old man Max began to noticeably slow down. To make matters worse, the frequency of encountering the search party wandering below the mountain increased. After a few close calls evading their gazes, they were finally spotted by a pair of search party members.

No. 21 charged in like the wind and struck one of them in the carotid artery, but the remaining man retreated clumsily, drawing out his emergency horn.

Squeak—

With the sharp sound of the horn, a knife plunged into his chest and the bandit fell. But from now on, their escape would turn into a race against time. A sense of defeat flashed across the group’s faces. They tried to hurry away, but they quickly realized old Max’s condition and held their breaths. He was completely exhausted, sweat dripping off him.

“Heave! I… can’t run anymore. It’s over. Leave me and go.”

No. 21 looked alternately at the faces of old Max and His Majesty, wrestling with a decision. But soon, as if he had decided on something, he gritted his teeth.

“It can’t be helped. I’ll carry you, old man. Let’s leave His Majesty here and get out of here as quickly as possible.”

What? Aslan exclaimed in surprise.

“But what about His Majesty? I’ll carry him!”

“That won’t work. We’re going to run at full speed towards the gates of Asein. We can’t carry any burden.”

“But….”

“We need more than just speed. We need something to distract their attention.”

The group was shocked. It sounded like he was suggesting they leave His Majesty behind, even using him as bait for the bandits.

“He must have anticipated the possibility to some extent. His specific mention of leaving him behind wasn’t a mere admonition.”

He had said there was a high probability that this would happen.

“It’s not dangerous since this isn’t his original body.”

“But, but even if it’s not dangerous right now, won’t he eventually return to this body?”

Aslan wanted to cry.

How did it come to this? Where did it all go wrong?

Was it his fault for not knowing that the bandits were in collusion with Carthago, even though he was an insider? Or was it their fault for stubbornly insisting on bringing old man Max along, despite their desperate situation?

No, maybe it was a mistake to save his life stubbornly in Rohan and come to this damn Flower village. Ah, it was all Aslan’s fault.

His Majesty Bart had asked him if he would regret it. Now Aslan knew the answer.

He was regretting everything he had done.

Meanwhile, No. 21, who had gently sat His Majesty against a rock by the roadside, approached Aslan, who was still lost and whimpering, and gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Listen very carefully.”

He spoke with gritted teeth, infusing strength into each character.

“The most useless thing in the world is worrying about that man’s safety. Do you understand?”

But it sounded so desperate, like he was trying to convince himself rather than Aslan, that Aslan had no choice but to nod in agreement, holding back his tears.

Holding the sullen old Max, No. 21 tersely said, “Let’s go.”

The group took one last look at His Majesty several times before finally hastening their heavy steps at the sound of the approaching crowd.

***

Meanwhile, Nate, unaware of the dwindling speed of his companions, was traveling at a rapid pace after recklessly tossing the homunculus aside. He had spent a bit too much energy to escape and was quite tired. Still, his state was more comfortable than the slowly drowning sensation he had when trapped in the puppet, with no errors.

As Nate gradually regained his strength, his speed began to increase. However, despite being fired at the speed of light, the barrier he had set was fading, and he felt desperate. Just how far was that fearless guy planning to go.

[Holy Dad!]

A small blue light suddenly appeared and circled Nate at a fast pace. It was Herna, always one step ahead.

[Morres killed little Digory boy! But I didn’t expect him to be sucked into the open void. I’m sorry!]

[Nobody could have predicted it. It’s not your fault.]

And Herna, in the eyes of that Digory boy, you are the baby.

[Imperial Dad! Knights of Saint Marcias are coming.]

A small pink light appeared in succession and gently landed on Nate’s soul. It was Gades, always stepping back.

[And that Durand child is plotting against Morres this time. He’s totally fired up.]

[As for that matter, it’s already informed to Francis… By the way, isn’t Durand hardly a child, no matter how you look at him?]

He already has a grandson your age, Gades.

The twins, no matter how many times scolded, showed no courtesy towards their elders.

[The puppeteer, he’s still in the capital. He’s hanging out with that sleazy guy from Rohan.]

[There’s no connection with that Digory boy, but I alerted Bremen to watch him just in case.]

Herna and Gades followed Nate in circles as if they were on a walk.

Among Nate’s children, only two could open the void. Hence, they shared relatively more information with him compared to the others.

[Holy Dad, we can only go this far.]

[Imperial Dad, you must return safely.]

However, as they were still children, they couldn’t maintain the channel for a long time. From the edge of the solar system, Nate saw the flickering lights of the twins saying their goodbyes, and soon increased his speed towards the outer nebula. The sense of the barrier was now faint to the point of being undetectable unless extremely focused. Passing the melodies of five nebulae, suddenly a round grey sparkler, like a bead, clung to his side. The clear and transparent gray reminded him of someone’s eyes.

[Your Majesty.]

Cornsheim.

Nate frowned. Just his luck that the one he least wanted to see showed up now.

[You should keep your position. Don’t be fooled by the trickeries of the misguided.]

Cornsheim’s whisper was extremely dry in tone. Just hearing it brought to mind his stiff face and emotionless voice, causing Nate great discomfort.

He increased his speed even more, his short thoughts echoing.

[Leave.]

[…You must not forget your duty, Your Majesty.]

At the same time, the number of grey beads around him began to multiply. His tribesmen were trying to connect at once.

[Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Your Majesty……]

[Your Majesty, Your Majesty……]

Soon dozens of round orbs surrounded Nate. They flickered like blinking eyes. Blinking.

[Your Majesty, Your Majesty, Your Majesty.]

They kept calling him, seemingly demanding something from Nate without explicitly saying so. They were as ominous as ever.

[Do not pry as you please. Close the channel. Cornsheim.]

Whoosh. In response to his will, a strong pulse swept around him from his soul’s core. The small beads were shocked and simultaneously ceased their blinking.

Even without this, it was hard to maintain composure in a spiritual state, unlike when he was in his original body. No, it’s more like he hardly controlled emotional changes. Now, when he started to feel uncomfortable, a sinister aura began to spread from his soul.

The small beads, seemingly frightened, briefly glanced at Nate, and then began to extinguish one by one. All that was left was the leader of the flock that first appeared.

“Your Majesty, everything must flow according to natural law. You shouldn’t hold on to what has already gone.”

Light began to gather in Nate’s right hand, eventually taking the form of a long rod. It was the form of his sword, the walnut cracker.

The next would come without even a warning. The leader of Cornsheim, who had clearly understood his intentions, faded away with a small sigh.

[Please, do not blindly trust in premonitions…….]

As soon as he disappeared, Nate was left alone in the distant outer universe.

He heightened his senses as much as possible again, but no longer felt the presence of a barrier. While he was wasting time with the Cornsheim’s swarm, his son’s soul had already drifted away to an unfathomable distance.

Anyway, they were useless and bothersome. It would have been better to just let the Inquisitors sweep them away.

With no other choice, Nate began to move aimlessly in the direction of the last trace he detected.

He was a bit nervous, but there was still a corner of trust. If his son were to call him even once, Nate would never miss that voice.

How much time had passed?

Nate, who had been moving aimlessly outside, began to feel anxious. Despite the sense of time being vague here, it seemed like quite a long time had passed since he lost touch with his son.

[What on earth is he doing….]

He couldn’t understand his son at all. At least he should call his father once when things get to this point.

Was he overly independent, or just thoughtless?

At that moment,

—Father, Your Imperial Majesty…….

It was a faint thought that seemed to briefly brush past.

It was barely more than a fleeting thought rather than a call.

But that was enough for Nate. He shot off in the direction the thought-wave had come from.

He found his son almost at the border of the dimension. Not knowing how dangerous the place was, his son was floating in the dark, holding a fragment of a soul with a serene face.

Nate felt an ache in the back of his skull, something nonexistent in a soul.

[But why would the god who oversees this dimension let these creatures lurk, just waiting for an opportunity?]

The voice that barely murmured in the freezing cold, enough to freeze and shatter a trivial soul instantly, was all he could muster. Nate was slightly taken aback.

This lad was always curious, but never seemed to want to study.

[That is because the supreme god who watches over Delcross is not a personal god, my son.]

You wouldn’t be saying that if you had read even just chapter 1 of Intro to Theology, or at least its preface. Are you planning on becoming something by slacking off like this?

Of course, his son also thought that his father, the Emperor, was a slacker who didn’t work. Nate didn’t have a clue about this. Well, even if he did, what could he do? Forcing his child to do what he couldn’t do is the so-called privilege of a parent.

He finished preparing to scold his son, who was looking at him with wide eyes, wrapped in light.

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