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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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“Perhaps I should rephrase that. Do you need our help?”
Aslan immediately reversed his question. Ileana looked confused, but Aslan didn’t bother to explain.
“Are you aware of who I am?”
“…Yes, Master Aslan. I am.”
Known as the Emperor’s assassin.
Called the Master of Battle by the War God.
Aslan’s notoriety wasn’t limited to the Northern Continent. His name was known throughout the world.
Perhaps recalling this, a flicker of wariness appeared in Ileana’s eyes. But it was surprisingly faint, considering her father had died at his hands.
Aslan smiled inwardly. Her reaction was much the same as in the game.
He knew the Emperor hadn’t been a loving father.
In fact, Ileana had despised her father.
Ileana, the Emperor’s half-sister. Her mother had been offered as a sacrifice to the War God. It was only natural she would harbor resentment.
Ileana hated both her father and the War God. At least, she had in the game.
‘Just as I expected.’
Aslan smiled.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“I don’t believe… you’ve walked into a trap.”
While that might be true for others, Ileana knew exactly who this man was.
The Imperial family of the Calus Empire had served the War God for generations.
Their connection to the War God meant they had access to detailed information about the Great Ones, information they were expected to know.
Ileana knew the Master of Battle wasn’t someone who would easily fall into a trap.
“I’m here to help you.”
Aslan’s words were baffling.
Ileana, her brow furrowed in confusion, opened her mouth to question him, then froze.
“You want to become Emperor, don’t you?”
Aslan’s question made her pause.
Suspicion clouded her sky-blue eyes.
Despite the possibility that she was feigning ignorance, Aslan spoke with conviction.
“You wish to build a powerful empire without relying on the War God, don’t you?”
“You…”
Ileana’s frozen expression thawed, replaced by astonishment.
Aslan smiled inwardly, watching her reaction.
“An Emperor who allows War Monks to roam freely within his palace, who bows his head to the War God. Is this truly a proper empire?”
“What are you…”
“Haven’t you ever thought about correcting this?”
Aslan extended his hand. Ileana’s astonished gaze followed the movement.
“I’m sure you have. But you gave up. I can even guess why. You lack the power and the influence, don’t you?”
The trembling in her sky-blue eyes slowly subsided as she finally met Aslan’s gaze.
The complex emotions swirling within them gradually faded, leaving only one.
Suspicion.
“What do you want?”
Finally, he had her where he wanted her. Aslan smiled.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
Ileana looked at him, dumbfounded. Aslan’s smile vanished.
“I’m doing this because it’s the right thing to do.”
“The… right thing?”
Ileana echoed his words, her confusion evident. She wasn’t the only one who reacted.
Harod stared at Aslan, his eyes wide with disbelief, while Angie wore the same unreadable expression she had worn while they hunted the hags and buried the bodies.
Aslan understood their reactions. Gelladrion wasn’t the world he came from. It wasn’t a world that shared his moral compass.
A world that accepted the existence of evil gods, a world that submitted to a cruel fate instead of rebelling against it.
That was Gelladrion. A world where humanity and morality had lost.
“In any case, what I want isn’t important right now. What matters is what you want.”
But now wasn’t the time for a philosophical debate. It would be pointless.
Beliefs and words without action were empty, and he wasn’t about to launch into a moral lecture.
Aslan dismissed the thought and looked at the girl. Ileana lowered her gaze, considering his words, then replied,
“…If… if I wanted something, would you be able to help me?”
Seeing the desperation in her eyes, Aslan asked,
“Before that, could you tell me what you know?”
“Know about…?”
“The current situation.”
Aslan prompted her gently. Ileana hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
“I don’t know the exact details, but… the War Monks within the palace are gathering. They’re preparing an ambush. I… I believe you are their target.”
Ileana seemed unaware of the reasons behind the ambush or who was orchestrating it. She looked up at Aslan, her words hanging in the air.
“Yes, you’re right. The ambush is for us. Or rather, it’s for me.”
The title Master of Battle carried weight. More so than titles like Master of the Sword or Master of the Mace.
The Master of Battle was the one who knew how to win, above all other masters.
A symbol of victory, guaranteed by the gods.
But that wasn’t enough to warrant a full-scale ambush within the Imperial Palace, involving multiple War Monks.
Ileana couldn’t understand. She looked at Aslan, seeking an explanation.
“Because I am the vestige of the Old Gods.”
Ileana’s eyes widened in surprise at Aslan’s calmly delivered lie.
“…The Master of Battle, the Emperor’s assassin, and… the vestige of the Old Gods…?”
Her astonishment was mixed with understanding. She finally realized the reason for the ambush.
Harod, who had been watching them silently, suddenly spoke.
“What exactly is the vestige of the Old Gods that has everyone so riled up?”
Ileana’s sky-blue eyes flickered towards Harod.
Aslan, seeing her surprise, quickly interjected.
“This is my companion, Harod Claw, a Dragonkin warrior from Belus Alpen. Please don’t mind him. You can speak freely.”
While a Dragonkin’s appearance was often intimidating, Ileana, accustomed to the sight of War Monks, didn’t react.
“Hmm… I see. Well… we don’t know much about the vestige of the Old Gods either. But we do know that all the gods are after it.”
Ileana paused, wringing her hands, her gaze lowered.
“But I’ve heard that the vestige of the Old Gods possesses power beyond human comprehension, and something the gods desire. I don’t know exactly what it is… but if the gods want it, it must be important.”
The corners of Angie’s mouth twitched at Ileana’s words.
Ileana didn’t understand Angie’s reaction. Angie’s expression was a mixture of embarrassment and pride.
‘She likes the sound of “power beyond human comprehension,” doesn’t she?’
Aslan chuckled at Angie’s sudden change in mood.
Ileana, finishing her explanation, looked at Aslan.
“If Master Aslan is truly the vestige of the Old Gods… then I understand why they’re going to such lengths. It’s actually rather restrained of them.”
Aslan agreed. If he were a god, he would use any means necessary to obtain the vestige of the Old Gods.
This clearly indicated that the gods were underestimating him.
Ileana continued, raising her sky-blue eyes to meet Aslan’s.
“So, what are you planning to do? You said you would help me… but I don’t understand how. I don’t see how you can escape this situation.”
She added quickly,
“I’ll tell you now, taking me hostage won’t work. I’m not that valuable within the Imperial Palace. They’ll be here soon, so if you have a plan, you’d better tell me quickly.”
She spoke with certainty, as if she had already considered, and dismissed, the idea of being used as a hostage. Aslan didn’t deny it.
But he didn’t reveal his plan either.
He simply smiled.
“That’s not important.”
Because everything was going according to plan.
“The most important thing depends on your will.”
“…What?”
Ileana feigned confusion. Aslan smiled at her.
The Calus Empire was openly devoted to the War God, its violent expansion fueled by the deity’s support.
It was a faction clearly positioned as an antagonist, designed to betray the player early on in the game.
And Ileana was a unique character within the Calus Empire, with unusual conditions for her appearance.
In the game, Ileana only became Empress after killing two Emperors.
She was relatively kind, not inherently hostile to the player, and showed signs of wanting to distance herself from the gods and their influence.
And from their conversation, Aslan could tell that the girl before him wasn’t much different from her in-game counterpart.
That was why Aslan had willingly walked into this trap.
To understand Ileana, and if possible, to make a good first impression.
The Calus Empire, a vast power that controlled nearly half of the Northern Continent, would be a valuable ally, or at the very least, a useful neutral party.
The problem was the girl’s personality.
She lacked the ambition to match her potential. The fact that two Emperors had to die before she ascended the throne was proof of that.
Aslan looked at the girl, her eyes flickering with uncertainty, and spoke.
“You know.”
The girl had no power, no influence. So, believing she couldn’t win, she had chosen to live quietly.
She occasionally acted out, driven by her kind nature, but that was all.
She hadn’t fought because she believed she had no chance of winning.
Aslan believed what she needed was a little nudge, a bit of advice.
“You can’t win without fighting.”
“….”
The girl fell silent, staring at Aslan. She had realized he had seen through her act. She tightened her grip on her dress.
“You might lose. Yes, you won’t always win. Of course, you might also win. You won’t know unless you fight. But…”
Footsteps approached. The girl flinched, turning her head, but Aslan placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked back at him.
“If you don’t fight, you’ll definitely lose. Victory will never be yours if you don’t fight for it.”
Ileana closed her mouth, her expression a mixture of conflicting emotions.
Aslan removed his hand from her shoulder and turned towards the door.
–Knock, knock.
Someone knocked. Aslan lowered his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard.
“It’s the same now. I know it’s a trap. I know what the Emperor wants, and I know the War Monks are waiting for me. I knew all of this coming in.”
“…You walked into a trap… willingly…?”
Ileana looked at him, puzzled. Aslan smiled gently, weaving a lie. He couldn’t tell her he had come for her.
“The War Monks haven’t gathered in sufficient numbers due to interference from other priests and gods. But I’m here, the Master of Battle, the vestige of the Old Gods, and I have my companions. They don’t know what I’m capable of. They underestimate me.”
Aslan’s gentle smile vanished, replaced by a cold, weary one.
“There’s nothing easier than fighting an opponent whose hand is fully revealed.”
You can’t win without fighting. Aslan repeated the words in his mind, walking past Ileana towards the door.
“Watch closely.”
With that, he threw the door open. Cornil Ashuld, standing on the other side, flinched.
“…Ah, ahem, Master Aslan. Perfect timing. His Majesty requests your presence. Please follow me.”
Cornil Ashuld, recovering from his surprise, straightened up, a smug look on his face.
[Active Main Quests]
[ ! Meet the Emperor]
Aslan grinned, the irritating sight of Cornil’s face partially obscured by the system window.
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let’s go
Blood Blood Blood