Chosen by the Northern Grand Duke

Chapter 235: Agitation (4)

In his past life, Elaine hated cripples.

The cripples referred to here were those commonly indicated by the North. Weak in body, and even weaker in spirit.

The Harad of his past life escaped from being a cripple. If one could call it self-reliance, it was self-reliance. What the Northerners did was so utterly shit, and as a result, he wanted to become strong and wanted revenge as well.

From around that time, Elaine began to hate Harad less. It was because he was no longer a cripple.

She also became obsessed. It was because she learned of his talent. Serzila cherishes talent. Harad was a Mage, but he was a Mage permitted by Grand Duke Aratus.

However, she did not like him. Despite loving the ignorant North, Elaine hoped Harad would not be ignorant.

Perhaps she wanted to draw a line. Because Harad was a Mage.

Elaine did not need to act as the ideal Grand Heir in front of Harad.

Harad tried to become like fire, and Grand Heir Elaine tried to hold the reins of such a Harad. She draped the shell called Grand Heir over Harad as well. Thus they became bad friends, and close friends.

She had such a dream. Elaine correcting Harad, or in other words, the foundation of the human called the regressed Harad being formed.

In truth, it was closer to a panoramic memory than a dream. Because this was memory. It was a comparison possible because she had experienced Manoa's magic.

However, one thing was certain—it was welcome. Elaine was the one crazy about fighting, while Harad did not dislike such private, peaceful daily life. Rather, he was fond of it.

"How sudden."

Harad, awakened from the dream, muttered while looking at the ceiling.

That Harad had dreamed meant Ellen had dreamed as well. And she would have just awakened.

"Not a priest."

The stimulus from Torch had already ended. Elaine had emerged, and Ellen even dreamed within it.

Seria was the first case and the most recent stimulus. If she were to dream, Harad had thought the dream would be something related to the Church or priests.

He was spectacularly wrong. The dream showed Harad. It meant Harad was more stimulating than Seria.

Harad reflexively touched his lips. Physical stimulus also served as excellent stimulus. He had not intended it, but his lips seemed to have induced the dream.

If one could call it a harvest, it was a harvest. Both that she had dreamed, and that one more method of providing stimulus had increased.

However, was it good? Harad could no longer be pleased without reservation. It was because of the sensation remaining on his tongue. It was weaker than the lingering feeling after Predation, yet more intense.

It was regression for Elaine's sake. Now it was also regression for Ellen's sake.

When Elaine manifested in the Village of Embers, Ellen had been asleep. This time she was awake. She shared together what she experienced within the manifested Elaine.

If one could call it growth, it was growth. While it was somewhat reassuring, he could not be entirely at ease. There was no guarantee that just because this result was good, the next result would be good as well.

He wanted to stop the stimulus. And he wanted to provide stimulus. For once, Harad felt he himself was like a cripple.

Then his heart throbbed. The constraint of regression gripped his heart tightly. It was as if it were throwing a tantrum.

It was a sensation he had felt from time to time. The constraint often behaved like a single personality. It understood words and grasped situations. It probably even eavesdropped on thoughts.

That temperament was not unfamiliar. The Elaine of his past life also had a constraint.

However, it was not only the constraint that was angry. The heart was not just painful but hot as well. The sun was fluctuating.

This too was not unfamiliar. The higher the Rank rose, and the more powerful the Origin became, it tried to thrust its temperament outward.

Borrowing Jis's expression, an Origin that had grown as large as it could was trying to break out of the shell called Mage. Mages who could not withstand this were devoured by their Origin.

He could guess the reason for the sudden seizure. It would be because he had thought peaceful daily life was good. The sun was closer to Elaine, who was crazy about fighting.

It was a familiar seizure. If left alone, it would naturally subside. As Jis had expressed, Harad was resisting sufficiently. He was not a Vessel that would break from a mere seizure.

The sun pulsed. It wanted a new, stronger heart. This too was familiar. He could endure it any amount. However, he felt its addictiveness had grown stronger than before.

Harad, entering his Mindscape, looked at the sun before his eyes and smiled welcomingly. It was called a sun, but at this distance it looked like a gentle wall. It had grown that enormous.

Pure discontent became one. The efficacy of Embers had been beyond imagination. The cooled Torch Aten was the same. His fire had been greater than any heart he had ever preyed upon.

"Almost there."

If he raised his head, it was difficult to gauge its end. In other words, it would soon exceed his field of vision. It meant it was not long until he regained the境 境he had achieved in his past life.

No, more than that. There was already a gap between the fire of now and the fire before regression.

Manifestation was the same as well. The Manifestation of the regressed Harad had a difference from the Manifestation of the past.

Compared to the Manifestation that had been cut by Elaine back then, the Manifestation of his past life might be shabby. The evidence was that even at 5th Rank he had to extract his heart, and even that Manifestation had been incomplete. Though it was the same Origin, now was far closer to the sun.

In other words, it meant Elaine had splendidly cut such a Manifestation. The Elaine Harad remembered should have found it quite difficult even so.

The destination had grown distant. He had to go much farther than he had expected when he regressed. Only then could he stand side by side.

While the regressed Harad walked again the path he had walked, that Grand Duke was advancing farther from far away.

It did not seem he could not catch up. The evidence was that if he were to Manifest now, there was no need to extract his heart. Though he was walking the path he had walked, that speed was incomparably faster than his past life.

Also, starting from Embers, the path had changed. It was a clear shortcut. Perhaps it was the path he should have walked in his past life.

The bed was soaked through. It was because he had become 5th Rank. Serzila too was gradually growing hotter.

Harad immediately went outside and cooled his body. Hihihiren, passing by just then, greeted him with a laugh. The eye level at which he looked at her was not unfamiliar.

Come to think of it, his height remained the same. His physique was the same as well. In his past life, he had grown taller after tempering.

"I did not grow."

"What?"

"There is such a thing."

"Ah…… Cheer up."

Hihihiren briefly lowered her gaze downward, then left.

Tempering could be done a total of twice. By Harad of his past life's calculation, that was the limit. Beyond that, the Vessel could not endure.

'Is it because I did not do it myself?'

After regressing, the second tempering had ended. However, the agent of it was not Harad but Aten's fire.

'Because the fire was weak? Because it did not want to make me grow larger?'

Both seemed plausible. However, to Harad's thinking, it seemed like the latter.

Aten was a bastard with a bloated ego. Even before Harad preyed upon the heart, it had offered all its fire. It had tried somehow to leave traces.

It would have been the same during tempering. Perhaps this appearance was its preference over the body growing larger.

Because the larger the body, the more it resembled a knight. The Otherworld treated knights as bugs.

'Well, as long as the performance is the same.'

Though unpleasant, for Harad it did not matter much. As long as the inside was the same.

He had subdued Cassion without magic. Cassion had been in the same position as well, but it meant he had defeated someone who played at being a knight through brute force.

Thus, Harad's body, having undergone two temperings, was comparable to a knight clad in Aura. Even without implementing magic.

It was an absurdity possible because he was the sun. Naturally, the Vessel containing that special Origin could not help but become special.

Naturally he would not be able to match a Sword Master, but even that was a tremendous result. The faster, sturdier, and tougher a Mage became, the freer they became from the constraint called distance.

"Can you manage it?"

Harad turned his gaze. The Grand Duke's residence was wide open. It seemed to be saying to come in if he was confident.

"Not quite."

Harad deliberately averted his eyes from the monster. As the saying goes, you see as much as you know—Harad newly realized just how tremendous the Aura settled over the Inner Fortress was.

The Superhuman called Grand Duke Aratus felt like a giant as large as the Inner Fortress.

'That human died.'

Even having regressed, Harad could not easily believe it.

If you hate bugs, feed them bugs. Until they like them.

To Seria, Mages were bugs.

Since he could not feed them, he had to keep showing them. In cockroach terms, to the degree that even if their backs did not look pretty, they were tolerable to look at.

If it were up to his feelings, he would have wanted to attach Kubel. It was a dangerous notion. Kubel usually went out on more dangerous boundary patrols than Seria, but there he was together with knights.

He had to prevent Seria from jumping elsewhere, and had to deal with her until her regeneration stopped. It meant giving a Mage the distance that was their core, and requiring rich experience as well.

For Kubel, both were still difficult problems. Having given up Predation, Kubel needed more time.

Harad satisfied the conditions, but since Seria did not become agitated toward him, the only suitable Mage was Cassion.

'It is not as if the opponent is an Inquisitor.'

In truth, even an Inquisitor would be easy. Though what he did made it seem otherwise, Cassion was nominally 5th Rank.

The swordsmanship he had honed to disguise himself as a Knights Commander was also impressive. To see him struggle, one would have to bring at least an Apostle.

For such a Cassion, dealing with Seria was an extremely easy matter.

'He really thinks he is a knight.'

What beheaded Seria was not magic but the sword, but the cause of death was not important.

What was important was that Seria became agitated when she saw Cassion.

'The Mage in imagination induces agitation.'

The suspicion itself that one might be a Mage made her go mad. However, she could endure it a few times. Then all that needed to be done was to increase that number of times.

"Will it be effective?"

"It is a Northern proverb, is it not?"

"Seria is a priest."

That conversation had been several days ago already. In the meantime, Seria had replaced her head quite frequently.

When the head regenerated anew, the agitation disappeared. As Seria expressed it, all afflictions inside her head were cleanly emptied.

However, in Harad's view, her mental strength was being refilled. Her patience.

In terms of physical training, it was as if the body returned to before exercise. However, the effect of exercising before that did not disappear. Even if the head had regenerated anew, it was still Seria.

Seria was cultivating patience faster than anyone through the cheat called Divine power. Though pain accompanied it, Seria was a priest familiar with death anyway.

Every time Cassion beheaded her, blood scattered in all directions, but the North was land where cleaning was easy. Blood was bound to be buried in snow eventually. If one swept it along with the snow later, it became spotless.

"Hey, priest."

"Yes, Sir Cassion."

The regenerated Seria answered. Cassion smiled like a villain before her eyes.

"I am a Mage."

"I know."

"If you know, go mad."

Cassion spoke teasingly and waited for Seria to become agitated. The key lay not in beheading her but in the process of Seria enduring.

Thus, ten days.

"Priest, go mad."

"Please wait. I will try going mad shortly."

"When."

"I do not know……?"

Seria no longer went mad toward the suspect called Cassion.

"Cassion, try implementing magic."

A small dot was implemented above Cassion's hand. It was magic resembling his Origin, erasing even its own presence and traces of Mana.

Then Seria became agitated.

"……Demon!"

In other words, only toward Mages.

'This actually works.'

Harad scratched his neck. Before he knew it, Seria, beheaded and regenerated, clapped hands with Ellen.

"As expected."

Ellen stared intently at Harad's face, then spoke.

"A lie. That was a lie just now, was it not?"

"……"

"It really was?"

Ellen was pleased. She had guessed correctly just by looking at his face.

"Better than not trying anything."

It was no loss anyway.

"But she feels all the pain?"

"Because it is not me who is in pain."

As said repeatedly, Seria was Ellen's friend. Not Harad's friend.

"Demon!"

Seria shouted toward Harad. It was not scary.

"Now do it while showing magic."

Since results had emerged, he had to work harder. Harad jerked his chin toward Cassion.

"……Demon-like bastard."

Cassion muttered. His eyes were full of loathing.