The Principle of a Philosopher by Eternal Fool “Asley”

Chapter 8.2, Irene’s Turning Point

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The western gate of Beilanea, as specified in the letter. The time: five minutes to midnight…

Footsteps echoed, swift and deliberate. The guard at the gate tensed at the sound but quickly averted his gaze and straightened his posture. A palpable aura of anger surrounded the approaching figure, enough to be mistaken for bloodlust.

[…If I make eye contact, I’ll be killed.]

Noticing the guard’s reaction, the source of the anger, Irene, reined in her arcane aura.

[The gate is guarded, and I don’t sense any significant magic from him… Is this really the right place?]

Irene scanned the surroundings, pondering. Yet, no one else was in sight.

Resigned, she thought, “I’ll wait until midnight,” and leaned against the outer wall of the gate.

Just as she had once seen Asley off on his departure.

Only a few minutes passed, but for Irene, they were excruciatingly long. The cool night breeze calmed her, dispersing the anger that had accumulated in her mind. However, it did not take away her current frustrations. She glanced up at the stars shining in the sky. The Biological Clock magecraft, which she had bought from Asley, indicated it was midnight.

“Hmph…”

Her heavy breath was proof of her resignation to the letter being a prank. She dispelled the pain in her fingers with magic, and the wind carried away her anger.

With a slightly clearer mind than when she arrived, Irene pushed away from the wall and turned to pass through the gate once more. But then…

“Zzz… Zzz…”

The guard was standing asleep just inside the gate. Irene quickly assessed the situation.

But before she could act, a voice reached her ears.

The muffled sound came from right behind her.

“…!?”

Irene stiffened, realizing someone had gotten behind her unnoticed. She prepared for the worst.

“…!”

Yet, there was no sense of attack from the person behind her.

The polite tone did not make Irene lower her guard.

“A voice-altering spell, modified from an amplification spell? Summoning me with a disappearing letter and greeting me from behind… You really don’t want to be seen, do you?”

The tone of the voice shifted slightly, but Irene’s ears picked up more than just the words.

[Wanted? As in… a wanted criminal? But why hide even his voice? Given the intricate setup of the letter, he must know I’d recognize him…)

“W-what’s so funny?”

“…So, you DO know me,” Irene said, folding her arms, her expression softening slightly.

[This attitude… where have I heard it before?]

A twitch of her eyebrow was the only sign of Irene’s recognition, but the answer didn’t come immediately, leaving her brow furrowed.

“So, what is it? What’s so urgent that you needed to be so cautious?”

Seeing no way forward but to change the topic, Irene aimed to extract as much information as possible.

“Hmm… And this favor requires you to hide your identity and not show your face?”

Her sarcasm was layered with irony.

The calm, slightly cheerful tone struck Irene with a sense of familiarity.

[I’ve heard this somewhere. This condescending, arrogant, but slightly deferential way of speaking…!]

Frustration showed on Irene’s face. It irked her to remain in the dark.

“All right, let’s hear it. What’s this favor you want to ask…?”

Irene decided to probe his request for clues about his identity.

Of course, he had already seen through her intentions.

Irene’s forehead throbbed with a vein of irritation as she listened to the voice behind her, which seemed to be smiling.

“Look, I don’t have all night! Just get to the point already!” she demanded, her voice carrying a force that belied her appearance.

The person behind her, sensing that further teasing might be unwise, cleared his throat and introduced a note of seriousness to the conversation.

“What?”

“……What?”

Irene thought she must have misheard and tilted her head in confusion.

The silence from behind prompted her to stretch her neck and shoulders, trying to make sense of the request.

“…Excuse me?” Her voice practically begged for a repetition.

“You know that’s impossible…” Irene muttered softly, neither angry nor exasperated, just baffled.

The person behind her chuckled quietly, though it went unnoticed by Irene.

“…!”

The voice, halfway through, transformed into one she knew well.

That was enough for Irene — was what the man behind her thought.

“Unnecessary tricks, a condescending attitude, a wanted man within the Empire… Hmph, now it all comes together. You really are insufferable,” Irene said, her body trembling with recognition and irritation.

“It seems I inherited my professor’s traits,” he responded cheerfully, devoid of sarcasm.

That genuine tone was what made Irene turn to face him.

“Are you saying that’s because of ME, Warren!?” she shouted as she spun around, meeting the smiling face of Warren, the Black Emperor… a graduate with top honors from the Magic University.

“Indeed. I knew you’d recognize me from that single word,” Warren said, his voice laced with admiration.

“…And you let it slip on purpose! I can predict most of your antics!” Irene pointed at Warren, her voice rising in anger.

“Quite a harsh criticism,” Warren replied, unfazed.

“Don’t play games with me! I’m busy enough as it is, and now you’re calling me out here!? And what’s this about leaving the Duodecad Conference? Be glad I’m not arresting you right here and now!”

“That would be a problem.”

“Your face doesn’t look troubled at all!”

“Is that so?”

“Why are you smiling? Do you see me smiling!? If you want a laughing buddy, go find someone else!”

Irene reached up to grab Warren by the collar but, due to the height difference, ended up clutching the fabric around his abdomen instead.

Her gaze, however, was unwavering, firmly rejecting his request.

However…

“Please leave the Duodecad Conference, Miss Irene,” Warren insisted, oblivious to Irene’s growing ire.

Her eyes flashed with determination, but Warren the Black Emperor was not one to be easily deterred.

He raised his index finger as if to underscore his point.

“I am content being the adviser. We would be best with you, Miss Irene, as the leader. And your right-hand man would be…”

Irene’s fist swung back.

“…Asley.”

Her arm froze mid-swing, her fist suspended in the air. For a solid three seconds, Irene remained motionless before finally snapping out of her shock, her eyes wide.

“What did you just say?”

“I said that I intend to place Asley as your right-hand man, Miss Irene.”

“D-do you REALLY have to bring him up now!?”

Irene couldn’t hide her discomposure at the sudden revelation, while Warren nodded with a smile.

“Do you know where he is?” she asked, her fist having disappeared, replaced by two small hands resting on the fabric of Warren’s abdomen, like a child deprived of a cherished toy.

“I do not know his current whereabouts, no. However, I believe he will not return here for some time. When he does come back, he needs to be welcomed by an organization — one led by you, Miss Irene, as the head of the Resistance.”

“How… how can you be so sure of that?”

Her previous anger had dissipated, replaced by the rapid beating of her heart.

Warren’s eyes remained smiling as they bore into hers.

“You know the answer better than anyone, don’t you, Miss Irene?”

“…!”

His unexpected rebuttal rendered Irene speechless.

“Your earlier response was quite weak for a denial. It was ambiguous. Why did you say ‘that’s impossible’ instead of ‘I can’t’? Words carry intent, Miss Irene. You were searching for a reason to say yes, weren’t you? That’s why I revealed my identity. That’s why I’ve given you a way to make it ‘possible’.”

Irene said nothing — or rather, she couldn’t say anything. Warren’s words had pierced through all her defenses.

“With the Devil King’s resurrection imminent, we need unity. That cannot be achieved within the rotten confines of the War Demon Empire. It’s an impossible path. Miss Irene, please lend us your strength.”

Silence followed. Irene pressed her lips together, unable to respond to Warren.

Instead, she spoke softly,

“Give me some time.”

“…Then, three days from now, same time, same location. I’ll be waiting.”

With those parting words, Warren vanished into the darkness of Beilanea. Irene stood near the sleeping guard Warren had incapacitated, staring up at the sky. Warren’s words echoed in her mind.

“…How did he know about the Devil King’s resurrection?”

Left with no trace of the Black Emperor to question further, Irene could only gaze at the stars, lost in thought.

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Dawn broke, signaling the start of another busy day. As usual, Trace visited Irene’s room to deliver her morning greeting.

“Good morning, Miss Irene. I look forward to serving you today.”

“Good morning.”

As Trace finished her greeting and turned to leave, Irene watched her back.

Just as her hand touched the doorknob, memories of the previous night flooded Irene’s mind.

“…Oh, wait!”

Trace paused and re-entered the room upon hearing her urgent voice.

“…Yes?”

“This is about the day before yesterday.”

“Yes?”

“The thing you said to me before you left…”

“…Apologies, but I’m afraid I don’t remember. What exactly did I say?”

Trace seemed puzzled. Given how often they spoke throughout the day, her confusion was understandable.

“You know, before you left that day…”

Irene trailed off, relying on Trace to recall the memory herself.

After a moment of reflection, realization dawned on her face.

“Yes, I remember now.”

Irene’s expression brightened at her response.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Trace, familiar with her ways, remained unperturbed. She knew her well enough to understand the significance of her gestures.

[It seems this is a serious matter. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such determination in her eyes…]

Her insight allowed her to prepare herself calmly.

“Was there any falsehood in your words…?”

“Of course not. I am confident that no one else can serve you as I do, Miss Irene.”

At this moment, her preparation seemed almost unnecessary.

“…Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”

“I will follow you. No matter where you go…”

Their bond was stronger than any contract could bind.

“Hold on! I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“That is fine, Miss Irene.”

“No, it’s not!”

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Volume 8 Bonus Story 2 – Antiquity Epilogue, Fava Bean Edition

“Whew… It looks like I managed to survive.”

Guile wiped the sweat from his forehead and let out a sigh of relief.

He had arrived in the city of Sodom as the leader of the Kugg Boars.

The battlefield, once hellish despite the high sun, had fallen eerily quiet, with the day already tilting towards evening.

The corpses of the Devil King’s army of monsters were bathed in the red light of the setting sun.

The cheers of victory had been loud and numerous, but now, as Guile took in the hellish scene anew, his body began to tremble.

“Huh? Haha… I gotta say, I REALLY bit off way more than I could chew…” Guile murmured, shaking his head.

From behind him came a joyful noise. Turning around, he saw Bright and Ferris clinging to each other, weeping.

Nearby, Chappie sat with his back turned, trying to hide his tears.

The children, freed from some unknown tension, overflowed with nothing but tears. Polco watched over them with a hint of confusion but placed a gentle hand on their shoulders.

“Haha…”

Guile decided now was not the time to approach the prominent figures.

He moved wearily through the battlefield, searching for his team members amidst the piles of dead.

Along the way, he found a woman seated, cradling a girl who resembled Ferris.

Guile approached her immediately.

“H-hey. Are you all right?”

The woman lifted her head. Her face bore the exhaustion of someone who had emerged from hell.

However, she quickly steeled herself.

“Be quiet. She’s just fallen asleep.”

She gazed down at the girl she held.

“Oh, sorry… Hey, what’s your name? You look like a mage.”

The woman did not respond.

“Hmph… Well-off people like you don’t need to know my name…” she muttered defiantly.

“…Cool.”

Guile let out a small sigh and examined the woman. It appeared she had a severe wound on her leg.

“Can you stand? We may not know each other’s names, but I can at least offer some support.”

He extended his hand… but the woman glanced at him once before turning away.

“Ugh, it’s been such a terrible day…” Even as she murmured, Guile showed no sign of withdrawing his offer. “…Look, I don’t need–“

She tried to voice a clear rejection but faltered midway.

After a sidelong glance at Guile’s hand, she finally took it in silence.

“Hup…!”

“…Hmph.”

“Can you heal yourself?”

“When I get my energy back.”

“All right. Then I’ll leave it to someone who still can cast a—-“

“-—I don’t need it.”

This time, the rejection was clear. Guile’s eyes widened in surprise.

“It’s about time we went home,” the woman said, as Guile’s surroundings suddenly darkened.

“…!”

Realizing it was a massive shadow, Guile looked up, his face showing his alarm.

Suddenly, a cobalt-blue dragon undulated through the air, floating silently.

Wrapped in its tail was a Kaiser Dyno.

“I see you are safe. Come, let us go home. We need to get rid of this heavy load…”

“Are you calling me heavy, Blue!? You’ll regret saying that!”

“Familiars…?”

Guile exhaled a sigh of relief.

The woman, without answering, mounted the Cobalt Dragon, cradling the girl gently like a mother.

The Cobalt Dragon began to rise, and the woman looked down at Guile, shouting,

“Hey, you, fava bean man! Listen up!”

Guile glanced around, but there was no one else. Confused, he looked back up at the woman.

“Tell Poer the mage, ‘I’ve repaid the favor!'”

“…Ah, right. ‘I’ve repaid… the favor…'” Guile muttered softly, trying to remember the message for Poer.

“Mmm…”

The girl, sleeping in the woman’s arms, rubbed her eyes and squinted.

“And tell him this too! ‘Because of you, Myans woke up!’ This one’s a debt!”

“…Huh?”

Puzzled by the message, Guile watched as the woman and the Cobalt Dragon disappeared into the distance.

He stood there, eyes following their retreating forms, when a familiar voice reached his ears.

“So, that was Chiquiata.”

Turning around, he saw his former master.

“Huh…? Master Polco, isn’t that the name of the mage who tried to kidnap Young Master Bright?”

“That’s the one, Guile. Well, it seems even a mage like her could become our ally. Perhaps our household’s instructor of arcane arts was a Holy Warrior after all. Hahaha!”

Polco’s hearty laughter was infectious, and Guile found himself laughing too.

When their laughter subsided, Polco asked,

“So, Guile, what’s next for you?”

Guile looked down for a moment, contemplating. Then, with a bright expression, he replied,

“First, I think I’ll give Poer a good ass-kicking!”

Polco’s eyes widened, but Guile flashed him a mischievous grin.

Moments later, their laughter echoed louder than before across the battlefield.

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