Chapter 26 : Chapter 26
Volume 1
Chapter 26 : The True Function of the Black Book
The strength of a late-stage first-rank warrior did not give Muen enough of a sense of security, because just as when he had faced the assassin before, it had been useless for anything except letting him run fast enough to take a knife for Selicia.
“The protagonist is probably only at the late stage of the first rank in terms of warrior strength right now.”
“But she can use magic! She has a divine blessing! And all kinds of items!”
“As she is now, if she ran into a pure mage or a pure warrior, it probably would not be a problem for her to fight two ranks above her!”
The more Muen thought about it, the more keenly he felt just how enormous the gap between himself and the protagonist Ariel was.
—In the original novel, the only reason Muen Campbell had been able to throw his weight around over the protagonist during the twenty chapters he stayed alive was because of his noble status!
...
After thinking for a moment, Muen added one more line behind “Become stronger,” the last item on the paper.
→ Be able to protect myself against the protagonist Ariel.
“For now, this is my ultimate goal.”
Muen did not think he could ever surpass Ariel, so he settled for the next best thing.
Since the conflict between him and the protagonist could not be reconciled for the time being, then at the very least he had to reach a point where, when faced with her retaliation, he would not lose his life.
But even that alone would be extremely difficult.
Because having read the original novel, he knew all too well what kind of absurdly overpowered monster the protagonist Ariel was.
After all, she was the protagonist of a Soaring Phoenix novel.
If she were not outrageously powerful, how could she possibly be arrogant enough to soar?
“Ordinary methods definitely will not work. I need some other means!”
...
...
Muen took out the black book again.
Because after thinking it over and over, the only thing that might possibly become his cheat power was this black book, which ordinarily did nothing except automatically write a diary for him and suddenly give him unreliable prophetic dreams.
And Muen discovered once again that there was something unusual about it.
“The evil god flames the assassin got through sacrifice—even if that dress was a powerful defensive magic artifact, there is no way it could have blocked them. You must have done something!”
Muen stroked the mysterious black book and muttered under his breath.
“And at that time, I really did feel you react.”
“If you have any other functions, then show them to me!”
Muen opened the black book once more.
It was no longer a wordless heavenly tome like it had been the first time he opened it.
Instead, it was densely packed with records of Muen’s experiences.
From the moment he obtained the black book until now, it had recorded everything in exacting detail.
Even what had happened with Selicia was written down very thoroughly.
“Damn it, why does this read like some dirty book? And one with me as the main character, no less?”
Muen cursed under his breath and skipped over that part of the story.
Then he finally discovered something different.
“The words here are red.”
All the text in the entire black book was black.
Only when it came to the assassin who had attacked Selicia, the two characters for “assassin” were a blood-like red.
“Why? Is there something different about it?”
Muen pondered the question, then instinctively placed his finger over those two scarlet words.
Suddenly, the blood-red text released an enormous pulling force, as if it were dragging at Muen’s soul.
He did not even have time to scream before his vision went black and he lost consciousness.
...
“What is going on? Where am I?”
Muen stood up from the ground, his face full of confusion.
A moment ago, he had clearly been in his own room, yet now he had arrived in a strange place.
Everything around him was black, and he could see nothing.
“No, it is not darkness.”
Muen lowered his head and looked at his own hands.
He could see himself, which meant the surroundings were not truly dark.
The reason it felt like darkness was because everything here was black.
Black walls, a black floor, a black ceiling.
He could not even make out the boundaries between them.
It was as if he were standing inside a fog.
“Could this be a space inside the black book?”
“But what is it for? A storage room?”
Just as Muen was puzzled over this, he suddenly heard a strange sound.
Tap.
It sounded like the footsteps of one of the Duke household’s maids walking in leather shoes across a marble floor.
Muen raised his head.
His eyes widened involuntarily, and a look of shock appeared on his face.
Because not far away from him, someone was walking toward him.
A maid.
It was obviously the uniform of a maid from the Duke household, one Muen knew all too well.
That was why even the sound of the footsteps was exactly the same.
But the problem was the maid’s face...
It was that assassin.
“How can this be? Weren’t you dead?”
And why had she appeared here?
The assassin did not answer.
She merely raised her face, revealing eyes as cold and mechanical as a machine.
A chill suddenly flashed through Muen’s heart.
But before he could do anything, his vision blurred.
The assassin disappeared.
The assassin appeared.
Just like when she had tried to kill Selicia, she crossed the distance between them in an instant, in a way that defied all reason.
Then... a cold flash cut through the air.
Muen felt a streak of icy chill bloom across his neck.
The world spun.
The last thing Muen saw was the bloodied dagger in the assassin’s hand, and... a headless corpse.
...
...
“What the hell?!”
Muen jolted awake at the desk.
Because he had moved too violently, he knocked over the chair and lost his balance, falling heavily to the floor.
But he paid no attention to that tiny bit of pain. Both hands frantically groped around his neck.
“Thank goodness, thank goodness. My head is still there.”
Muen let out a sigh of relief.
For a moment, he had almost thought he had died again for real.
“Then what was that just now... another dream?”
No, that was not right. That was not a dream.
The sensation of death still lingered on the skin of Muen’s neck.
No dream could possibly have felt that real.
Muen got to his feet and looked at the black book again.
It was still lying where it had been, and the blood-red words “assassin” on the page were especially eye-catching, carrying an inexplicable allure.
“Could it be...”
A conjecture suddenly formed in Muen’s mind.
But if he wanted to verify that conjecture, he would have to test it.
So he reached out again, intending to touch the red words once more.
Only, his hand was trembling a little.
Even if it had happened too quickly for pain, the taste of death was not something so easy to endure.
“Damn it. I have already died more than once or twice. What is there to be afraid of?”
A sudden ruthless resolve flashed through Muen, and he slammed his trembling hand down.
...
The black space.
Just as before, the assassin in the maid outfit was still standing there.
Her appearance, movements, expression, even her strength—there was not the slightest difference from what Muen remembered.
But her expression was cold, like that of something dead.
“As I thought, she is not the assassin herself, but a record constructed by the black book, just like those records of me.”
“This record is just far more detailed, far more real. You could even say... it is no different from the real person!”
As he looked at the assassin, it was as though Muen had understood everything.
A somewhat feverish excitement spread across his face.
“I think I finally understand the black book’s true function.”