Chapter 24: The Master’s Teachings

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Translator: Soafp

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While glaring at the sneering Kuro…

I recalled what had happened before—no, what had happened at our very first encounter, when I made the deal with him.

Back then, Kuro had told me, “If you give up, the deal will be nullified,” and at the same time, “I truly hope you see it through.”

If I think about that, then it means—

“To successfully defeat the Demon King.”

For reasons I still don't understand, that was the condition under which I would lose to him.

Which means… his objective was never the early defeat of the Demon King, nor the lives saved by it.

This result I reached after endless trial and error.

Something within it must have become a benefit for him—a condition that allowed him to declare my defeat.

However, if Kuro were merely gaining some benefit, he wouldn't describe it as me “losing.”

Which means his real target was—what I had offered as the price of the deal.

Something he could only obtain once I succeeded.

—My own “future.”

In exchange for saving countless lives, I had offered up my own future beyond the age of twenty.

In return for that future, he had given me “Guide.”

That was the deal between him and me.

And if I had given up halfway, the deal would have been void.

In that case, I don't know what would have happened to my “future,” but… it probably would have returned to its original fate.

Which means…

“So you stole my future and erased it. That was your goal, wasn't it?”

When I voiced my guess, Kuro responded in a teasing, amused tone.

“Hm? Well, half right… no, maybe just a little right. You are a troublesome guy, sure, but you're not the main objective. You're more like a bonus… though, well, it hardly matters now.”

His consistently mocking attitude made my temper flare, and I shouted.

“How could it not matter! What is it you're really after!”

“Li~ke I said. You wanted the Demon King defeated as soon as possible, and I made that happen. I said you were losing, but as a deal, this was a perfectly satisfactory result, wasn't it?”

Kuro kept that twisted smile, as if even my anger was something to be enjoyed.

No good.

He has no intention of telling me anything more.

He's just toying with me, savoring it.

From his expression, I can tell—he's genuinely enjoying himself right now.

This man…

He enjoys it.

Cornering people, making them realize it, mocking them, frustrating them, savoring their reactions.

That—no, that alone—is what he desires.

—But.

Turn that around, and it becomes his opening.

The gap I need to exploit.

Thinking about it, this meeting itself shouldn't have been necessary.

If there were conditions by which victory or defeat would be decided through the deal, there would be no need to explain them to me, an enemy.

He could have simply won, quietly and completely.

If he had left things alone, I would have died without ever realizing my defeat.

Yet he twisted that course and deliberately summoned me here, just to savor his amusement.

Which means…

He's grown arrogant.

He believes there's no chance left for me to win.

—Just like I was, when I faced my master in our final duel.

Because of that arrogance, this moment exists.

Then what I must do is the same thing my master did.

I recalled his final lesson in my heart.

“Until the very moment of complete defeat, pursue victory without a shred of carelessness! That is the resolve of one who takes up a sword and fights!”

That's right.

An opponent's carelessness is something to welcome.

It's true that I don't have my sword here—the one I always relied on.

Right now, I'm not holding a sword.

There's no retrying like I could with “Guide” if things go wrong.

That's why now is the time to follow my master's teaching.

What's needed here isn't a sword, nor the dignity of accepting defeat.

Even without weapons, even with limited means—

What's needed is the resolve to do everything I can, to the very end!

There's no time.

If I do anything—and if that action could turn the tables—he will end this meeting without hesitation.

And the moment he does, I will die.

So what can I do, in my current, dying state?

Lunge at him and start a brawl.

No—that's reckless, a truly last resort.

I've lost my left hand, and my right leg barely works.

I don't even know how strong he is.

I can't choose to fight head-on against an opponent whose strength I can't gauge.

Then what else?

Is there nothing in what I've done until now that can break this deadlock?

—No, probably.

What I need to do now is something I've never done before.

A new attempt.

That's what will exceed his expectations and let me strike back.

I feel the pressure of time running out.

But because of that, I force myself to stay calm and consider my remaining cards.

What I've done until now.

What I've never done.

I swung my sword, reread “Guide” countless times, and kept searching for causality.

Looking back, those were passive days.

I waited for the book to give me information, repeating the process over and over.

I did think, but in the end I was always led by the book, clinging to what I was given.

Not waiting, but acting on my own.

That's what I never did—the missing attitude.

And then—it hits me.

Yes, he said it.

At the time of the deal, he said, “You'll figure out how to use Guide in time.”

Just as he said, through countless repetitions, I gradually came to understand this book's power.

And—

I thought I understood everything.

The appearing text, the causality.

I believed I had verified and tested it all.

But there is still something I haven't done, something I haven't tried.

—What if I write in it?

What would happen if I wrote something in this book?

It's a baseless idea, yet for some reason it catches in my thoughts.

Do it.

It feels like something is ordering me to act.

Whether it's the will of “Guide,” or my own instinct—I don't know.

But there's no time, and I can't think of anything else.

And the mandatory condition is “red text.”

Perfect timing.

I don't have a tool to write with right now—but I do have a way to write.

And from experience, what should be written in the book isn't something absurd, but a realistic causality.

Not something sudden like “Kuro dies” or “my hand grows back,” but something plausible.

I quickly organize my thoughts and act.

“Guide!”

As I summon the book, I watch Kuro.

The expression he turns toward me is, as always, one of mockery.

“Oya oya, Erius. What are you planning to do by calling that out now? Want to reminisce with me one last time?”

I ignore his words and specify the page.

“One hundred and sixteen.”

In response, Guide flips its pages.

The page I chose is unused.

At the same time, I place the book on the ground and sit down as well.

When Guide opens on its own, what lies there—

is a blank page, perfect for writing.

And then…

I thrust the index finger of my right hand straight into the wound where my left hand had been blown off by Lena!

In that instant, the pain that had been suppressed explodes through me.

From my left arm, pain like searing heat races up into my brain, and I almost pull my finger out on reflex.

Defying that instinct, I grit my teeth and push my finger deeper into the wound.

“Hey, Elius, what are you do— ah!”

For the first time, Kuro's face changes to something other than a smile.

A clearly flustered expression.

—That, Kuro.

That's the face I wanted to see.

The fact that you showed that expression—

that alone proves I'm on the right track.

He said this:

“I can predict, to a certain extent, where the accumulation of fate will lead.”

Then if what I'm about to do leads to a fate inconvenient for him, there should be some reaction.

That's why I was watching him.

And he reacted.

Which means the “causality” I conceived is not wrong!

Keep going.

Urging myself on in my mind, I endure the searing pain.

The man who once interrupted my deal with this thing—Shiro.

If anyone knows the full scope of Kuro's scheme, it's him.

I'll bet on that.

As I pull my finger from the wound and begin writing red letters in blood onto the book, Kuro waves his hands frantically.

At the same time, the black world begins to close in.

And then—

(Nonoa… I'm sorry! I'll rely on you until the very end!)

As I apologize in my heart, at the exact moment I finish writing—

—the black world closed.