[V12C1] Reminiscing in the Depths of Despair

The girl first appeared before Isaac when he was attending Serendia Academy under the name of Felix Arc Ridill.

Monica Norton. She was extremely timid, always keeping her head down and trying to avoid human interaction.

Whenever someone stood nearby, especially large and noisy men, she would immediately tense up. Isaac noticed her constant trembling.

His first thought was, “She must have had a hard time.” A somewhat detached response, since it was not his problem.

…How could he possibly know that he was responsible for putting Monica in this mess?

＊　＊　＊

Monica was still curled up in the corner. She initially uttered fragmented phrases such as “Don’t hit me” and “I’m sorry”, but now, it was only numbers.

No matter what Isaac said, Monica displayed no reaction whatsoever. She continued mumbling numbers in complete monotone.

“Monica…”

Isaac could call her name until his voice went hoarse, but there was still no response. Her vacant eyes did not even seem to register him.

She was so terrified of him that she had started denying his existence.

Worse yet, Isaac was a tall man with an intimidating face, one of Monica’s greatest weaknesses.

Isaac felt himself grimacing.

(I don’t know how to make expressions with this face.)

Whenever he wanted to reassure or persuade someone, all he had to do was put on the smile of Prince Felix. That smile was perfect for grabbing someone’s heart, and he knew exactly how to use it.

But the same could not be said for the face of Isaac Walker. He had discarded this face so long ago that he forgot how to smile with it.

(I am currently Isaac Walker, not Felix Arc Ridill.)

Isaac knelt in front of Monica, aligning his eye level with hers. Monica did not return eye contact. It was doubtful if she could even hear him in this state.

(My face probably looks awful right now.)

Even so, Isaac attempted to speak to Monica in the calmest tone he could muster.

“Monica, please listen to me. My name is Isaac Walker and I am your…”

Your friend? Your disciple? …The man who killed your father? No, he couldn’t possibly say such a thing.

What did he want to be for Monica?

Only by questioning himself did he come up with his answer.

“I am your ally.”

Monica showed no reaction, only continuing to mutter numbers.

Isaac clenched his fists and reminded himself.

(I will not be forgiven easily.)

Monica must have been in a similar state before, and the one who helped her out of it likely did so with a great deal of patience. Even helping her regain her speech would take time.

Trying to accomplish that in an instant was sheer arrogance.

(Atoning for my crimes won’t be easy.)

It was then that Isaac noticed the voice murmuring numbers had stopped. Monica had fallen asleep while crouched on the ground. Her fatigue was due to mana deficiency after having her mana devoured by Gluttonous Zoe.

Isaac removed Monica’s mud-stained robe and laid her on the bed in her room.

While covering the sleeping Monica with a blanket, Isaac reassessed his actions.

Perhaps he could have convinced Monica by saying “I will never hurt you; please believe me.”

Still, Isaac couldn’t bring himself to do it. As someone who had unknowingly harmed her, he didn’t believe he had the right to say those words.

While he observed Monica’s sleeping face, the sunlight streaming in from the window was suddenly blocked out. Black rain was falling outside the window. It only lasted for a few seconds before stopping.

(Is Gluttonous Zoe starting to act in earnest…?)

Isaac cherished Monica, but he also cared about Sazandol and the people living there.

His first instinct was to immediately rush outside, find Gluttonous Zoe, and destroy it. He also wanted to confirm the safety of acquaintances.

However, Isaac could not possibly leave Monica alone, and he lacked the power to destroy Gluttonous Zoe by himself. Reckless action would only lead to his own downfall.

Ultimately, Isaac decided to wait for Nero’s return. It was then that he noticed several documents scattered across Monica’s desk.

Due to his ingrained habits as her disciple, Isaac reached out to tidy up the documents. Once he did, he furrowed his brows at the words he caught a glimpse of.

(…Large-scale composite spell, Star Arrow? Come to think of it, there were some magical tools on the ground next to Monica. I should collect those too. And this… Descriptions of Theodore Maxwell and Gluttonous Zoe?)

Isaac decided to read the documents Monica left behind while waiting for Nero’s return.

Even though he felt crushed under the helplessness and despair, his body moved on its own to find what needed to be done.

Just like that man raised him to.

——”Never stop thinking. Always assume the worst and do your best.”

How ironic that it was the words of Duke Crockford driving him forward after he fell into the depths of despair.

＊　＊　＊

Following the shower of black rain, everywhere in the harbor town looked like a living nightmare.

Countless people were lying motionlessly on the streets, their entire bodies stained black. Those who managed to avoid the black rain clung to the fallen, crying out for help.

There were even some who, fearing a second shower of rain, started fighting over shelter under roofs.

This was an unprecedented emergency, and everyone was panicking. Screams, shouts, and prayers to the gods could be heard from all directions.

Nero walked through the devastated city of Sazandol carrying Lana on his back. Karina was accompanying them.

Lana had been so shocked at the dire situation that her feet refused to move properly, so Nero decided it was faster to carry her.

On the other hand, Karina could walk normally, but she had a vacant look on her face. To avoid getting split up, she was holding onto the hem of Nero’s robe.

“I’m really sorry about this, Bartholomew-san…”

Lana apologized in a feeble voice.

That said, Nero didn’t see any need for her to apologize, so he voiced his thoughts directly.

“I prefer compliments over apologies. Praise me!”

“…You’re so cool and reliable, Bartholomew-san. Truly wonderful. Like a real hero.”

“Yeah, of course. I am Bartholomew Alexander, after all.”

Bartholomew Alexander was the name of the protagonist in the adventure novels that Nero loved to read. He was strong, cool, and the greatest hero ever.

Though Nero couldn’t see the expression Lana was making on his back, he sensed a slight smile from her.

“I can’t thank you enough. I’m so glad to have you with us.”

Lana’s repeated compliments cause Nero to let out a purr of content.

“Lana, you’re way better at giving compliments than Monica. Hers are always half-assed.”

“I wonder if Monica is okay…”

“She’s stronger than me, so she’ll be fine.”

Nero intended to drop Lana and Karina at a safe location, then return to Monica’s house. However, he wasn’t overly worried about Monica or Isaac.

With her chantless magic, Monica could immediately erect a defensive barrier to ward off the black rain, no matter how sudden it was.

Sparkles had gotten a nasty stare recently, but he was quick on his feet. It would be easy for him to avoid most trouble.

Nero gave a brief glance at the collapsed people on the street. They were covered in black stains formed out of clusters of mana.

——Such things were harmless to Nero.

When Nero transformed into a human or cat form, his injuries would bleed, and significant injuries might result in death.

However, curses and poisons still had no effect. Such draconic traits remained active even when he was not in dragon form.

(That black stuff probably only works on humans… Well, maybe animals too, I dunno.)

The black rain clung to any humans it touched, but it did not spread across the ground.

Any shadows that failed to possess someone simply vanished into nothingness. That explained why there were no black puddles on the ground.

Nero had been cautious about the possibility of the black rain crawling around on its own, but it seems that concern was unnecessary.

Still, he had no clue if or when the next shower would come, so there was no harm in hurrying.

“Hey Bun Girl. Let’s speed up a bit. Pay attention so you don’t trip.”

“…Huh? Oh, sure.”

The Bun Girl, aka Karina, returned an awkward nod. She quickly lowered her head and fell silent again.

Rather than being shocked by the situation, she seemed to be lost in thought.

Her current face resembled Monica’s when focused on mathematics or magical formulas, delving deep within herself to derive the answer.

Perhaps Karina might snap out of it if Nero patted her with his paw pads, like he often did with Monica. A strangely peaceful thought as they walked through the tragic scenes of the city.

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