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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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With Sariel and Jekkiel inside the workshop, everyone else could only wait outside, pacing anxiously.
Speculation ran rampant.
Sariel, a master craftsman renowned throughout the land, would he refuse Jekkiel outright, or would he agree to forge the weapon?
They all hoped he would agree.
After all, the one who entered the workshop with Sariel was undoubtedly the real Jekkiel.
If Sariel did create another weapon, how powerful would it be?
A strange excitement filled the air.
“What are they even questioning…? It’s the alcohol talking, as usual.”
Demeri muttered, exasperated.
Ruin responded to her near-mumble.
“It’s probably about Jekkiel’s appearance.”
“Jekkiel’s appearance? He is Jekkiel! No matter what he looks like, he’s still Jekkiel.”
“She probably means his appearance back then, not now.”
“Back then?”
Regita and Demeri’s gazes turned to Ruin.
Regita, however, seemed to be staring blankly, lost in thought.
“Yes. The appearance Sariel remembers.”
Ruin had clasped her hands together, staring intently at the workshop door.
She continued,
“Like a moment in time captured in a photograph, Sariel seems to hold onto Jekkiel’s appearance from that time. I don’t know what happened, but…”
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Inside the workshop, Jekkiel surveyed the surroundings.
Judging by the lingering magical energy, the equipment was of exceptional quality, though unused for a considerable time.
The thick layer of dust was evidence of this.
Sariel seemed unconcerned with the dust.
He simply sat on a chair, turning the Ermetellen Jekkiel had given her over in her hands.
“My, this really is Ermetellen. I’m more surprised than delighted, if that makes sense.”
“Isn’t it a rather common material for you, Sariel?”
“Is it?”
Still seemingly under the influence of alcohol, Sariel pressed his fingers to his temples.
He tossed the Ermetellen into the air a few times, catching it with practiced ease.
Jekkiel maintained a calm facade, but inwardly, he was uneasy.
Was this really alright?
In the original story, he had been a minor character.
But after he saved Charlotte, the situation had changed drastically, elevating Sariel’s importance.
If hhe damaged the Ermetellen…
But Sariel, seemingly oblivious to Jekkiel’s concerns, continued his casual handling of the precious material.
He posed a single question to Jekkiel.
“Do you still believe you are Jekkiel?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s find out.”
Sariel set down the Ermetellen and retrieved a hammer from a far corner.
It was a small, unremarkable hammer, easily held in one hand.
Heavily rusted…
He struck the anvil once.
Clang—!
A shockwave erupted from the simple act of metal striking metal, mana rippled through the workshop.
What the…
The floor beneath Sariel and Jekkiel buckled and cracked.
The dust vanished in an instant.
Jekkiel and Sariel were no longer in the workshop.
They stood suspended in an unknown space, then—
The scene shifted again.
They found themselves on a cold stone floor.
Tap— Tap—
Footsteps echoed through the dark, dreary space.
Sariel crossed his arms, while Jekkiel tried to make sense of the situation.
He recognized this place.
The demon realm’s prison.
He didn’t know how they had arrived, but he and Sariel were now observing the prison.
“Jekkiel!”
A sharp voice called out his name.
A familiar voice, yet unfamiliar.
Cold, lonely, and desolate.
“Jekkieeel!”
The name was called again, and Jekkiel finally located the source.
Christine.
She stood with her arms bound, calling out his name.
But something felt off.
She looked more like a young girl than a woman.
And though she cried out his name, her gaze wasn’t directed at him.
Ah, right.
There was another Jekkiel.
Just as Christine appeared younger, so did the other Jekkiel, his face still retaining a youthful cast.
He watched impassively as Christine was led into the prison.
“I see. A record of the day Christine was imprisoned.”
“Correct.”
Sariel nodded.
“My craft isn’t limited to forging weapons. I can also shape moments from the past, like raw materials, and display them.”
“Indeed.”
His obsession with “appearances” wasn’t simply a quirk; it was directly linked to his unique ability.
“You claim to be Jekkiel, and your mana certainly suggests a powerful lineage.”
Sariel gestured to the surroundings.
The prison’s torches, the ceiling, the floor, the bars…
“I can shape and display these details vividly, but witnessing them requires immense magical power.”
“I can manage.”
“So it seems. I expected you to collapse the moment you entered. Or rather, I intended for you to collapse. Your mana is truly formidable.”
Having said this, Sariel picked up the hammer again.
An anvil appeared beneath his feet.
Clang—!
The scene shifted once more.
An even darker space materialized.
But a vampire’s vision thrived in darkness.
He saw Jekkiel.
And the Demon King.
The Demon King tilted his head, questioning the Jekkiel of the past.
“…What have you done?”
Jekkiel responded cautiously.
“Christine. I confirmed her involvement in various corrupt dealings within the Kiss and Glory family. I dealt with her preemptively, to prevent any adverse effects on Your Majesty.”
“Christine is your betrothed.”
“She is merely a criminal.”
“Oh? A criminal.”
Despite the seemingly good news, the Demon King’s expression didn’t brighten.
Of course, his face was shrouded in shadow, so no one could see his expression anyway.
The present Jekkiel considered the scene.
Why the past Jekkiel had imprisoned Christine, why the Demon King wasn’t pleased, and what justification lay behind his actions.
The Demon King spoke softly.
“Insolent. Why do you lie to me?”
“What lie do you speak of?”
“You did not imprison Christine for my sake.”
“Then for what reason did I imprison her?”
Tap, tap, tap.
The Demon King tapped his fingernails against the armrest of his throne, his displeasure evident.
Each tap sent ripples of mana through the air.
Yet, amidst the chaos, Jekkiel maintained his composure.
He simply waited for the Demon King to continue.
“I was fond of Christine. I desired her. It seems you sensed my interest.”
The past Jekkiel hesitated for a moment.
Further lies were pointless.
“Yes. It would be a lie to say I was unaware.”
“And so, you imprisoned her in the demon realm’s prison?”
Jekkiel nodded.
The demon realm’s prison was a place where everything was reduced to near nothingness.
Once imprisoned, not even the Demon King could easily intervene for a set period.
It was a natural consequence.
The prison was a space created by the Demon King’s own uncontrollable power.
The Demon King’s displeasure remained.
Yet, he seemed strangely intrigued.
He addressed Jekkiel.
“You have robbed me of my amusement. You must provide equal amusement in return to ensure your survival. And Christine’s.”
He waited for Jekkiel’s next move—and time stopped.
More accurately, Sariel ceased projecting the past.
He turned to the present Jekkiel.
“If you are truly Jekkiel,”
He took a step, then another, towards him.
“Show me what you did then, the mindset you held. Then, and only then, will I acknowledge you as Jekkiel.”
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[Man I feel so bad for christine, she was just a girl being a girl doing girl things, like rebellion and treason…. free my girl!]
