BVGW 42

chapter 42

“You were a hero who tried to save the world. What was your goal?”

Ilei looked confused, as if facing a question that had no answer.

“…I don’t know.”

He finally replied.

“I’m not a hero.”

He had never once thought of himself as a hero or some chosen warrior.
Even the sense of duty or responsibility people said came with being of royal blood—he’d never felt such things.

He had no noble convictions, no grand aspiration to save the suffering citizens of the Empire.
He was simply—

Just—

“I just happened to be the one left standing at the end.”

He had merely survived—dragged along by someone else’s dream.

“You know, I’m going to build the biggest cabin in the world.”

Ilei stared quietly at Lirian, who was sleeping soundly in front of him.
A whisper brushed his ear like an illusion.

Caesar, who had listened to Ilei’s words about following in another’s footsteps, nodded after a short silence.

“That’s not so bad. If you keep following that path, you’ll eventually find your own goal.”

Ilei gripped Lirian’s Future Diary tightly.
“Dreams, goals”… those lofty words didn’t mean much to him.
He just wanted to fill this diary with more colors.
That was enough.

Just like now.

“Eww, I hate carrots…”

He chuckled quietly.

✦ ✦ ✦

A few days later, the family meeting that had fizzled out before finally resumed.

“According to Ilei, a divine relic will appear at the Dark Auction held in Kunkart ten days from now.”

The children began murmuring among themselves.

“What’s a divine relic? Is it something you can eat?”

“Jeril, not everything you don’t know is edible.”

“It doesn’t make sense from a magical perspective.”

“…Yuri, not everything in the world follows the laws of magic.”

Once again, Seran was busy keeping her younger siblings in check.

“Isn’t Kunkart the land of criminals?”

“That’s right. It’s an extremely dangerous place,” Caesar replied to Lesa’s question.

The Land of Criminals — Kunkart.
Located in the northeastern edge of the Empire, it was once an ordinary city.
The reason it became known as “the land of criminals” was simple.

“Because of the Great Mountain Range,” Yuri said, lifting his glasses—which didn’t have any lenses—with a proud gesture.
“And for reference, I, Yuri Ersioni, will be your lecturer today.”

Somehow, he was already standing before the small blackboard (meant for kids) that their parents had brought into the meeting room.
The rest of the family clapped.

“Yuri, that lab coat really suits you.”
“As expected of our son.”

At their praise, Yuri’s cheeks flushed pink—something rare for him.
He cleared his throat and introduced his assistant.

“My assistant today is Baby Villain.”

“Ahem.”

“No, Liriya, you have to say your name to build trust.”

“But everyone already knows me.”

“Still, names are important.”

The duke and duchess smiled warmly, watching their children talk as though it were a school play.
After all, they could have just handled the meeting themselves.
The real purpose of these “family meetings” was to let the children learn and grow through the process.

They were the generation in charge now, but the children would inherit the next one.

“Lirian Ersioni, re… ready?”
Lirian tilted her head, mimicking Yuri.
He patted her head.
“Good job.”
“Heehee!”

Delighted, Lirian began toddling around the room handing out the papers their parents had magically copied beforehand.
A perfect little assistant—no, baby villain indeed.

“Kunkart—technically ‘Kuhn-Kart’—was originally a settlement built between the Kuhn and Kart Mountains, a place once home to slash-and-burn farmers,” Yuri began.

Thus started the lecture of Professor Yuri (age 7).

“It used to be a normal city, but everything changed when an ‘abnormal phenomenon’ occurred deep within the Great Mountain Range. The forests became tainted, strange beasts appeared, and people either vanished or went mad.”

At the words abnormal phenomenon, Lirian—who had been munching cookies in Caesar’s arms—snapped her head toward him.
Caesar sighed wistfully; he’d almost gotten another bite in.

“By the time the rumors reached the capital, the phenomenon had already spread through the entire range. Several knight orders were dispatched but wiped out, and the imperial family eventually designated it as one of the <Forbidden Zones>.”

An abnormal phenomenon was, in essence, a disaster.
Without known cause, the dimensions cracked, and abyssal monsters poured forth.
Yet strangely, these phenomena always remained confined to specific regions.

People thought of them as urban legends—dangerous zones one must never cross.
That was the accepted truth.

“And so, the Empire labeled these areas as ‘Forbidden’ to prevent civilians from entering,” Yuri continued.

These were known as the Four Great Forbiddens:

• The Fairy Habitat – the Arctic Sea

• The Beastfolk Habitat – the Mirage Desert

• The Dwarven Habitat – the White Forest

• And lastly, the Human Land – the Great Mountain Range.

“But once the Abyss begins, those ‘zones’ will lose their meaning,” Caesar thought. “The abnormality will spread throughout the Empire. Judging by what happened in Jerquino, it may have already begun.”

It was a transitional stage—between containment and catastrophe.

Listening to Yuri’s explanation, Ilei thought quietly.

“In the end, Kunkart became a ghost city no one visited anymore…”

In truth, it wasn’t that the rumors spread too late—
It was that corrupt priests and nobles ignored the warnings until it was too late.

Back when Caesar’s father, the previous Duke Ersioni, argued for a deployment to Kunkart, no one listened.
He finally realized he was “reading scriptures to pigs,” as he put it.

“Those useless fat swine with bellies full of grease and not an ounce of responsibility!”

He left that legendary quote and retired from politics.
Because of that, Caesar inherited the dukedom early.
He now recalled his fiery father with bittersweet nostalgia.

“So that’s why it became a haven for criminals,” one of the kids said. “Since no one goes there, fugitives just gathered?”

“Yes, that’s right. Officially, no one lives there, which makes it a hotspot for serious crimes.”

“Even if someone dies, no one would ever know.”

Lesa, though already aware, responded encouragingly to support her son.
Yuri explained enthusiastically—though his expression remained perfectly blank.

“And though the Empire labeled the Great Range as Forbidden, the Imperial Court never officially acknowledged the existence of the ‘abnormal phenomenon.’ That concludes my report.”

His last line carried a double meaning:
The Empire both forbade Kunkart’s phenomenon and denied the phenomenon’s existence altogether.

Thus, while treated like a natural disaster, it was never given an official name—just “abnormal phenomenon.”

“After all, the founding myth says: [Leonhardt I, wielding the divine relic Sword of Dawn, purged the remnants of the Abyss from the continent.]
If they admit such remnants still exist, it would tarnish the Imperial Family’s sacred image.”

It was, in short, a convenient myth to preserve authority.

“But if that’s the case,” Ilei thought, “how do they deal with sudden civilian disasters like the one in Jerquino?”

Still, he applauded Yuri’s thorough explanation.

Clap, clap, clap!

When “Professor Yuri’s” lecture ended, the room erupted in thunderous applause.
Yuri, maintaining his cool demeanor, gave a small bow and returned to his seat.

Lirian, still nestled in her father’s arms (Caesar was overjoyed), stared at the drawing of the mountain range on her paper, deep in thought.

“That’s where Ilei helped me hunt the boar.”

She knew the place well—after all, in the past, she had secretly gone there again, unable to forget the taste of that meat.
And, annoyed by the abyssal beasts interrupting her hunt, she wiped them all out by herself.

She’d just made sure Ilei never found out.

“Now that I’ve regressed, I can eat it again,” she thought happily, munching another cookie that her father fed her.

Unable to resist her cuteness, Caesar showered her with kisses—
until Lesa smacked him on the back.

“Anyway,” Lesa said, “a divine relic appearing in such a place—does that sound right, Ilei?”

“Yes. I wasn’t active at that time, so I only heard about it later, but it was a famous incident. I’m certain.”

Divine Relic.
A relic left behind by the gods in the human world.
Their number was few, and each carried immense sacred power that purified corruption simply by existing nearby.
Naturally, they were deadly to abyssal creatures, so collecting as many as possible was crucial.

The most famous of all was the Sword of Dawn, said to have been wielded by the Empire’s first emperor, Leonhardt I.

“But that one can’t be used now.”

Not only was it embedded in the center of the Imperial capital’s main plaza,
the sword had never allowed itself to be drawn by anyone since its first master a thousand years ago.

Legend said only the Apostle of God could ever wield it.
And though it had once radiated holy light, even that had faded.

On the day the Imperial Palace fell, every royal inside perished, and even the sword itself shattered—
its light never returned.

The only survivor was the abandoned Fifth Prince.

“I remember the report,” Caesar murmured. “That auction house rose to prominence among the underworld in just a year. We must recover the relic first. It was called The Book of Revelation, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Which faction ended up using it in the future?”

Ilei fell silent for a long moment before answering quietly.

“It fell into the hands of the Church of the Abyss.”

Everyone froze, their hands halting on the documents.

Drawn there was the symbol of the Abyssal Church—
a serpent coiled around a rose, practically screaming ‘We’re the bad guys!’

Lirian pouted.

“But I’m the villain!”