Free Web NovelChapter 324: Final Lesson [2]
"It’s time to prepare for a funeral, Arwen. Have you prepared your goodbyes?"
"...Yes."
Despite her answer, Arwen’s expression remained conflicted.
A sense of unease lingered within her heart. While she had already accepted the Professor’s fate long ago, part of her still refused to believe that this would truly be his ending.
No, she could not accept it at all.
Why was it that a man who only wished to be understood continued to be misunderstood by everyone around him?
Why was it that every step he took seemed to push him further toward the brink of no return until the only path remaining was this one?
In the end, all she could do was watch as events continued moving toward an inevitable conclusion.
And yet, even amidst such a life, that same man had still chosen humanity. The same humanity that had never once treated him kindly at all.
Even while pursuing his own selfish goals, he never abandoned the future. Even while carrying burdens that should never have belonged to him, he continued moving forward as though the suffering was insignificant.
Arwen lowered her gaze.
A faint smile appeared on her face.
"Truly... there is no one else like the Professor."
Vanitas Astrea was a man of contradictions.
A man capable of kindness and cruelty.
A man capable of selflessness and selfishness.
A man who could save a nation one day and threaten the world the next.
Yet despite all of those contradictions, there was one thing that had always remained consistent.
Once he set his convictions, he would see them through until the very end, regardless of the consequences, regardless of the sacrifices required, and regardless of what others thought of him.
That was the kind of man he had always been.
"Silas..."
Arwen turned to face her brother.
There was hesitation in her eyes. Although she had accepted the reality of the situation, a small part of her still hoped someone would tell her there was another way.
"I know." Silas let out a slow breath. "I have a plan, but I’m not sure if it’ll work."
"...Y-Yes?"
For the first time in a while, hope surfaced within her expression.
Silas, however, did not look particularly optimistic.
"The others have accepted it." His gaze drifted toward the distance. "Though I’m not quite sure about the Princess herself, everyone else has already accepted the outcome."
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
"Me, though?" He shook his head. "I sure as hell won’t accept it."
"...."
"If possible, despite my powerlessness, I want to save the Professor."
"H-How?"
His words surprised even Arwen.
There was a time when such a statement would have been unthinkable coming from Silas. Back then, blinded by rage, grief, and desperation, he had once sought revenge against the Professor by targeting his younger sister.
Of course, he had failed.
And afterward, an awkward relationship formed between him, the Professor, and his little sister, Charlotte. It was the kind of situation that should have permanently shattered any possibility of trust between them.
Yet somehow, that wasn’t what happened.
Instead of casting him aside, the Professor accepted him.
Instead of condemning him for his actions, the Professor chose to guide him. freewebnøvel.com
Instead of treating him as an enemy, he treated him as a student, corrected him, straightened him, and forced him to confront the ugliness within himself and become a better person.
It was, in every sense of the word, the act of an educator guiding the youth.
"What can you even do?"
"Honestly..." A self-deprecating laugh escaped Silas. "I have absolutely no idea..."
"...."
"I have a plan. But I never said it was a good one."
Despite the joke, his expression soon grew serious once more.
"Still, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching the Professor... It’s that impossible doesn’t mean hopeless."
Arwen found herself staring at him.
"Besides..." Silas continued. "If the Professor spent all this time trying to save everyone else..."
A determined smile appeared on his face.
"Then I think it’s about time someone tried saving him."
Despite their conversation, however, events beyond their control had already begun moving.
Rumble——
The entire world shook.
The floor beneath them trembled, causing furniture and decorations throughout the room to rattle. The sudden impact nearly threw Arwen’s wheelchair off balance.
"Arwen!"
Silas stepped in front of her and grabbed hold of the wheelchair to keep it stable. His eyes darted around the room as another tremor shook the building.
"What the hell is happening?"
The shaking continued. Dust fell from the ceiling. And with each passing second, the sense of foreboding only grew stronger.
"Silas..."
Arwen’s face had gone pale.
As a former practitioner of dark magic herself, the signature emanating from the atmosphere was not unfamiliar to her. In fact, that familiarity was exactly what terrified her.
Then it happened.
Roooooooar——!
A roar echoed throughout the heavens.
A primal sound that seemed to bypass the ears entirely and resonate directly within the soul.
"Arwen!"
* * *
Margaret traversed onward.
Amidst the chaos of the civil war, she crossed through discreet channels and hidden routes until she eventually made her way to Amesticross. The journey had been long, but not once did she take a moment to rest.
She had no idea what Vanitas wanted her to do here.
All he had told her was to travel to Amesticross and visit a cabin house she was all too familiar with. Beyond that, he had provided no explanation and no indication of what awaited her there.
There had only been one additional instruction.
She was to bring her blade.
Nevertheless, Margaret did not question his orders.
She had long since stopped asking why.
After all, Vanitas had never given her a reason to doubt him. As he had instructed, she was to go to the cabin and then return to the capital. That was all.
To an outside observer, such unconditional trust would appear ridiculous.
But Margaret was no ordinary person.
She was his blade.
A blade that had willingly surrendered her heart and soul to him long ago. As far as she was concerned, if Vanitas had told her to come here, then there was a reason for it.
Whether she understood that reason or not was irrelevant. She simply had to trust him.
And so, without the slightest hesitation, Margaret continued toward the cabin.
"...."
The moment Margaret opened the door, she froze.
What greeted her was not an empty cabin, nor any clue left behind by Vanitas. But Franz, who was seated comfortably inside as though he had been waiting for her arrival the entire time.
"Ah." Franz looked up from his seat. "It’s the fiancée."
A smile immediately appeared on his face.
"Where’s Vanitas?"
Margaret remained silent.
Her gaze remained fixed on him for several moments as she stepped inside. The sight itself was not particularly surprising, yet it still felt strange to see him here.
After all, she already knew the nature of Franz’s ability.
A man who could never truly die.
A man who would continue existing so long as even a single fragment of himself remained somewhere in the world.
To ordinary people, Franz Barielle Aetherion’s death had already been confirmed.
"...."
Franz tilted his head.
"What?" His smile widened. "You look disappointed."
Margaret slowly closed the door behind her.
"No."
Margaret quietly stared at him.
Then she asked the question that mattered most.
"Why are you here?"
"Is that any way to speak to your Emperor?"
Franz placed a hand over his chest as though genuinely offended. A dramatic sigh escaped his lips.
"You’re not the Emperor anymore."
The bluntness of Margaret’s answer caused Franz to blink before letting out a laugh.
"Haha... I guess not." He leaned back in his chair. "Funny, isn’t it? I spent so many years trying to become Emperor that I never really considered what came afterward."
Margaret remained silent.
She had no interest in discussing Franz’s regrets.
Seeing this, Franz quickly raised both hands.
"Ah, don’t worry." The smile returned to his face. "Once the event has passed, I’ll be on my way. For now, he told me to remain here."
"I see."
Margaret accepted the answer without further questioning.
If Vanitas had instructed Franz to remain here, then there was little point in pressing the matter. More often than not, Vanitas’s plans only became clear after everything had already unfolded.
"Ah, of course." Franz suddenly clapped his hands together. "As the first person to arrive here, it’s only proper that I offer some hospitality."
He stood from his chair and gestured toward the kitchen.
"What would you like? There’s surprisingly an abundant amount of supplies here."
A grin appeared on his face.
"And if you’re worried about my cooking skills, don’t be. I once worked as a sous-chef."
Margaret blinked.
"A sous-chef?"
"Mhm."
Franz nodded proudly. "I can practically make anything for you."
Margaret stared at him for several seconds.
The image of the former Emperor casually working in a kitchen was difficult to imagine.
Then again, Franz Barielle Aetherion was not exactly a normal person.
Indeed, when one possessed several fragments, each having lived entirely different lives and climbed different hierarchies throughout society, it was only natural to accumulate an absurd number of skills.
For example, Franz had noted that he had worked as a merchant, a vendor, a beggar on the street, a soldier, a craftsman, a blacksmith, a scholar, and a butler.
Heck, while she didn’t want to imagine it, he had even boasted having worked as a maid once.
For Franz, whose fragments had likely worked in nearly every profession imaginable, it would not have been surprising for him to have expertise in almost any field.
Regardless of his status as Emperor, he remained a man who had experienced countless lives.
In fact, one could even argue that being Emperor was merely another career among the many he had accumulated throughout his existence.
"...."
Margaret found herself strangely unable to refute that thought.
Meanwhile, Franz had already wandered into the kitchen.
"So?" His voice echoed from the other room. "Tea? Coffee? Something sweet? Something savory?"
"No, that’s alright. I was instructed to return as soon as possible."
"No, that’s alright." Margaret remained where she stood. "I was instructed to return as soon as possible."
"Is that so?" Franz poked his head out from the kitchen. "Then you’re just here to check on me?"
"That might be so."
Margaret recalled Vanitas’s orders.
——I need you to go to the cabin we built in Amesticross. Bring your blade with you.
At the time, she had not thought much of it. Like always, she simply followed his instructions without questioning them. However, now that she stood here, those words began replaying in her mind.
Blade.
If he had specifically instructed her to remain armed with her sword, then he would have simply said sword. Yet there had to be a key distinction here.
A sword was merely a piece of metal.
Margaret held no particular attachment to a sword itself. While she had lived the life of a knight, she could discard her current sword and pick up another if she wished to.
The weapon itself did not matter.
However, Vanitas had specifically said her blade instead of her sword.
Blade.
Margaret was his blade.
The underlying meaning suddenly became clear to her. Margaret herself was an existence capable of cutting through anything. Reality itself, magic itself, and concepts that should not have been capable of being severed all fell beneath her authority.
Therefore, in this aspect, Margaret was the blade in question that she was to bring.
"Ah..."
Standing inside the cabin, she finally understood the meaning behind his orders.
Vanitas had never been referring to the weapon hanging at her waist.
From the very beginning, he had been referring to her.
That meant that, at this very moment, what Vanitas wanted was her power.
Step——
Margaret took a step forward.
Franz remained where he was, his back turned toward her as he busily sifted through the kitchen supplies. Not once did he glance in her direction, as though completely unconcerned.
"Emperor. I never liked you."
"Yes, I’m aware."
There was no surprise in Franz’s tone, nor any sign of offense. If anything, he sounded amused, as though the statement merely confirmed something he had always known.
Still, he did not turn around.
Still, he continued searching through the kitchen.
And in that instant, the shadows moved.
"After relinquishing the throne, I did not expect to be betrayed like this—"
But Margaret was a step faster.
Slash——!
Her blade swept through the air. Then, in that same instant, the sound of a heavy thud echoed from behind her.
Margaret showed no surprise as she turned around.
There, lying on the ground, were several Franzes.
One had been standing behind her with a sword already drawn. Another had been concealed within the shadows of the cabin. A third had been waiting outside the window. A fourth had remained hidden under the floorboards, while a fifth had positioned himself near the entrance.
All of them now lay split cleanly into two.
"...."
Margaret quietly observed the scene.
Just like her, not once had Franz lowered his guard. The moment she stepped into the cabin, he had already prepared multiple contingencies, placing clones throughout the area in anticipation of potential danger.
It was a sensible precaution.
Yet unfortunately for him, he had not been aware of the true nature of Margaret Illenia’s abilities.
"...."
Margaret silently lowered her blade.
A slash capable of cutting through reality.
A slash that decisively severed its target.
No matter what stood before it, once struck, it would be cut.
Whether it was flesh, whether it was magic, whether it was reality itself, the result remained the same.
Ordinary opponents died from that slash. But Franz Barielle Aetherion was not an ordinary opponent.
He was a man who could never truly die so long as fragments of himself continued to exist elsewhere. A man whose existence had long transcended the limits of a single body.
Yet the moment her blade severed a target, it did not merely cut the physical body before her. Because it was a blade that would cut its opponent, it propagated, adjusting with Franz’s existence.
Like a ricocheting strike traversing reality itself, it followed the connection between each fragment and each clone.
One became many.
And many became one.
Every Franz, every fragment, every clone—all of them would be cut.
All this time, Vanitas had already known.
Franz’s true, decisive counter had always been Margaret Illenia.
Roooooar——!
From the distance, the sound of a roar echoed across the horizon.
The cabin shook as the noise reverberated through the air.
Margaret stepped outside the cabin.
The moment she crossed the doorway, her eyes rose toward the sky. There, silhouetted against the heavens, stood a massive being that should not have existed in reality.
"...."
A creature torn straight from the legends and myths of old. An existence that exuded overwhelming power, enough to make ordinary people despair at the mere sight of it.
The wind brushed against her snow-white hair.
There, before her very eyes, stood one more enemy that had to be cut.
