I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills

Chapter 179. The Observer (2)

Paladin Tember.

I had forgotten his name for a moment because I had been calling him Tambourine so much.

My connection with that friend went way back.

Our first meeting was, well, a mess.

At that time, at Alina's request, I had been having clandestine meetings with her every night.

It was also right after I had rescued her from the human necromancer Tribus, but it wasn't as if I was meeting her out of simple pity.

It was, so to speak, a calculated decision.

Because I had learned that Alina was a person who should have originally become a legendary hero of the vampire duchy, and that she was the granddaughter of Count Pewin, one of the real powers in the empire.

Anyway, our paladin, Sir Tember, who was once naive and had feelings for Alina, had thought of me, who was meeting Alina every night, as a romantic rival.

He had thrust a sword imbued with holy aura at me without warning.

Of course, after I pretended to be an inquisitor for a bit, he got scared and avoided me.

“…….”

By the way, come to think of it, that friend was also my teacher.

Because he was the one who had made me a ‘necromancer blessed by God's grace’.

Thanks to him, I was later able to defeat Count Calvenia with holy aura and debut as a war hero chosen by Luark.

Of course, I had no intention of treating him like a teacher.

It wasn't as if only one or two people had taught me skills.

My true master, the ‘Shield’ mage, was revered as a master only because he had taught me a skill with his last breath.

As they say, a martyr is a martyr because he died.

If he died in battle, well, I might consider it.

‘Uh oh? That logic is a bit like a psychopath's…’

‘Hoho, Eyeball my boy. Is our master being strange a new thing?’

‘Kiuiing?’

When the local broadcast gets noisy, let's focus on the conversation again.

“Ahaha, yes. Sir Tambourine. He's in charge of training the new paladins lately. He's infamous for being such a strict instructor knight. I guess he doesn't remember his own foolish days.”

“As they say, a frog doesn't remember its tadpole days.”

“Is that a proverb you made up yourself?”

“It's a saying from my hometown.”

“Gunterburk, right?”

That's right.

When I first registered as a mercenary, I had recorded that as my place of birth.

Come to think of it, it was as if I had created a non-existent identity.

Looking back, it was a scam.

It was possible because the administrative processing of the mercenary guild was quite haphazard, as it was a group where people died commonly, and also because a proper mage had a status similar to a semi-noble among the common people, that is, a status similar to a priest.

‘But master, you were a swindler since you were young, weren't you? Even if I hadn't changed your face, you might have taken on the emperor's identity.’

‘Tick-tock tick-tock.’

As they say, when you become famous, you get criticized no matter what you do.

I ignored the slander, which was like white noise, and walked.

The air in the forest was certainly clear.

One of the biggest evils of industrialization is environmental pollution.

Although it was less so because the fuel was magic stones, it was impossible for there to be no air pollution at all from hammering metal and running engines.

The residential area of Wolfskrig was separated from the factory complex.

A cool breeze brushed my face.

It was less humid than a while ago.

February was slowly coming to an end.

The winter rainy season was ending.

Kalisto, which was adjacent to the wasteland, and the regions further north would soon welcome spring.

As I walked, I thought that even if it was a half-baked rest, it wasn't bad.

The doppelgänger in the form of the emperor was still diligently listening to reports, holding meetings, and stamping documents, but I still felt like I was resting.

I had heard that dolphins sleep with their left and right brains alternately.

Since they were mammals living in the sea, they had to come up for air periodically, but since they couldn't stay awake 24 hours a day, they would sleep with one half while moving.

Well, in my case, since I had two bodies, it didn't really matter if I slept alternately or at the same time.

Still, for some reason, I felt that my mental fatigue was being relieved.

After a walk, we returned to where we had tied the horses.

“My noble lord.”

Alina said, untying the reins.

“You have nightmares often, don't you?”

I hesitated for a moment.

I nodded.

“I do. I always have.”

“Sometimes, it's heartbreaking to see you carrying so many burdens.”

“It is a burden a lord should rightfully carry.”

“You are carrying the burden of two people, no, perhaps even more.”

At this point, I couldn't shrug it off as if it were nothing.

Have I ever told her?

No.

She knew I could use necromancy, but she didn't know that I was actively using the power of the sacred relics to act as Tribus or the emperor.

No.

I had overlooked one thing.

Alina's trait.

‘…The Scales of Good and Evil of the Four Angels.’

An ability to distinguish a target's essential disposition into good and evil, and to see a kind of aura of black and white energy with spiritual eyes.

Generally, it was almost impossible to distinguish people with this ability.

Because it was like distinguishing orange and green, red and reddish-brown, only by their brightness in a black and white screen.

However, she had said it once.

That I shone particularly white.

I didn't know why I, who wielded necromancy and even the church's sacred relics, was good by the standards of the Luark Church, but that wasn't what was important now.

She must have seen it.

What color the original emperor was.

I knew about [The Scales of Good and Evil of the Four Angels] because I had also used it in the game.

I didn't know how differently the aura that reflected good and evil looked on the game screen and in reality.

However, at least the good and evil of the emperor reflected on the computer screen was white, but not so bright.

It was closer to a light gray.

That light gray began to shine white, or in Alina's words, ‘truly white’.

From the day the emperor, who was dying of the plague, suddenly became healthy.

It wouldn't have been difficult to know that that point in time was after my last sick visit.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

A hand covered the hand that was holding the half-untied reins.

A white hand.

The soft, warm touch, without a single callus, enveloped the back of my hand.

“If my words were presumptuous, I beg your forgiveness. I just want to be of help.”

“…….”

“My noble lord, you are a saint sent by Luark. No, even if that is not the case, you have already saved many people, and above all, you are my benefactor.”

I turned my head.

Just then, the wind blew.

The cold air and Alina's hair, pushed by it, simultaneously tickled my face.

I could see her face between the golden waves of her hair.

This time too, she was close.

“I would be happy if I could be your rest.”

A distance where our breaths could touch.

I was not unaware of what this gap meant.

I also knew the meaning of the rest she was talking about.

It would surely be helpful.

Psychologically and mentally.

Alina was a good woman.

As is often the case with ‘saintesses’ in games, not only her appearance, but also her personality and abilities were flawless.

She was the type to be loved wherever she went.

Quite different from me.

The trust and support received from such a person would in itself be a motivation and a force.

Even if war was just around the corner, well, did people not have children on the battlefield?

On the contrary, children are often born in times of war or when it is difficult to make ends meet.

Being able to confide my secret would also help to charge the battery of my will.

It might not be particularly helpful for the physical battery of my disguise.

Because she was a terrible cook.

A smile suddenly appeared at the silly thought.

Seeing the brown eyes fill with bewilderment, I said.

“Let's go back. The sun will set soon.”

It probably wasn't the answer those eyes wanted.

***

The scene of my home when I returned from school as a child was similar to that of a typical middle-class, single-income family in South Korea at the time.

The comforting smell of home. The sound of something boiling in the kitchen. The ocher-colored faux-wood flooring. The ticking of the wall clock. The ever-changing clatter of dishes being washed or the whirring of the vacuum cleaner.

Especially the last noise changed every time according to the procedure of my mother, who was in charge of the housework, but there was also a sound that did not change.

The television.

The one that was immediately visible upon entering through the double doors of the front entrance.

My mother, who was in charge of the housework, always had the TV on like background music.

Variety shows or news would sometimes be on, but what was usually playing was a drama.

At that time, the TV programs my family enjoyed watching were foreign detective dramas or movies that aired on a few channels, so perhaps that was why the background music program was always a Korean drama.

I never sat down and watched them, but if you glanced at them while passing by, you would get a rough idea of the whole story.

I always wondered then.

Why did the drama protagonists act so frustratingly?

If you're going to kill them, kill them, and if you're going to love them, love them, what's with all the melodrama?

Did the writers all have a disease that prevented them from dragging out the story?

Perhaps if my past self saw my present self, he would think the same thing?

“…….”

By the time we returned to the city, the sun was setting.

A subtle silence had fallen between Alina and me.

Awkwardness? Distance?

I don't know.

Although it wasn't as if I had built a wall with women, it was also true that I had spent most of my twenties without any contact with them.

The only romance I had had was a brief, puppy-love-like experience in my school days and around my first year of university before I went to the military.

In the noisy clamor of the city, the presence of silence was felt even more strongly.

We arrived at the stables of the lord's castle, handed the horses over to the groom, and came out.

“My noble lord.”

Just as I was about to say goodbye after walking ahead, Alina pulled on my sleeve.

I obediently turned to face her.

“To be honest, I know it can't be helped, but it pains my heart that I cannot carry the burden for you.”

“…I know.”

“Well, I'll be generous. I'll be your sanctuary whenever you want. And I'll visit you once in a while when you look tired. For a walk or a nap. Because you need to rest to run again.”

“If you keep making me rest, I might refuse the meeting?”

“First of all, you won't be able to refuse because I'll visit you under the pretext of work. I'm a bishop, you know?”

Alina smiled wryly.

Yes.

This would be fine.

It felt like I was constantly making excuses to myself, but it wasn't the right time yet.

I was performing a tightrope act with death, separated by a single line.

Beyond the peaceful and bustling scenery of the city, the flames of war were still surging.

Since I was not a psychopath like the Emperor, I thought it was not an appropriate judgment to create a weakness at a time like this.

However, it seemed I was also human.

Seeing that I wanted to attach conditions derived from emotion to a rational judgment.

So, a hypothetical like this.

If it wasn't now.

“Then, I'll be heading in now. I'll submit the report on the bishop recommendation list by tomorrow morning.”

“If. I mean, someday.”

“Pardon?”

“…It's nothing.”

“?”

“I don't want to set up a death flag. We'll talk later.”

Alina tilted her head for a moment.

Soon, she chuckled and turned her back to walk away.

She smiled, glancing back with just the side of her face.

“Is that another one of those ‘sayings from your hometown’?”

I let out a dry laugh without realizing it.

After sending Alina off, I walked in the opposite direction.

The sun had set, but the streets were crowded.

Under the light of the street lamps, carriages, horses, carts, people, dwarves, and elves crossed each other's paths with busy steps.

Come to think of it, when I first settled here, it was a ruined city with only a few immigrants.

Now it was a city far from being quiet.

I entered the factory complex and looked up at the sky.

Something was moving.

Caw-

A bird.

A crow.

I naturally turned my steps and headed for the outskirts of the city.

The crow, which had been circling high in the sky, lowered its altitude and began to follow me, hopping on the rooftops.

After walking for a while, I stopped between the closed shops.

The crow nodded its head, spread its wings, and jumped down to sit on the wall.

Caw-?

The creature with red eyes stared at me for a moment and then began to caw.

Soon, it spat out a saliva-soaked lump.

It was a rolled-up piece of thin leather.

I spread it open.

A short sentence was engraved in a small but neat handwriting.

[Lumer is on the move.]