Chapter 76
[If we lie, we’ll disappear too.]
[Ignore a question, and it’s a breach of contract. We can’t exist.]
[Eat. If you go down without passing through the 4th, 3rd, and 2nd floors in order, we’ll eat you.]
The distant, grinding sound grew louder—crunch, crack, crack.
“Where… is this place?”
The crown prince, who finally seemed to have come to his senses and realized what he had been about to do, halted mid‑step.
The portraits burst into cackling, their laughter full of malice.
[The Archmage made this—to kill the Emperor and the four traitors.]
[All black magic requires an equal exchange. You can’t drag the living into the reverse world without a price. This mansion can’t be sustained for long.]
[So if you pass through the traps one by one, we have to let you go.]
One of the portraits reached out violently.
[We told you, so give us flesh. Meat. Meat. Meat. Meat. The blood of the living. Blood. Just one eye. Give it. Give it. Give it to me!]
Yeniel, having regained her composure, tried desperately to take command of the group.
“Run! To the 4th floor! We have to go there first and pass through the rooms in order! This place—it’s structured like a dungeon!”
I thought to myself that hard‑mode games really are brutal, and wondered why on earth a defense tower would have such grotesque portraits in the stairwell.
Our party ran again, breath catching in our throats, scrambling up the stairs.
The door to the 4th floor creaked open—as if by magic.
The portraits could no longer pursue us once we stepped inside.
Panting heavily, Sian and Yeniel looked utterly drained, their faces pale.
“…Lady April has saved me again. Did she deliberately protect me? How did she know the portraits were there?”
The crown prince’s expression was tangled with confusion.
All I’d done was stop him from running off like a disposable extra and dying alone—but somehow it looked like I’d known all along.
“Lady April didn’t know,” I said, tilting my head.
No one looked convinced.
“Please tell us the truth, my lady. Then why did you ask the air that question? What do you know about this mansion?”
Yeniel asked calmly, though her hands trembled ever so slightly.
“That’s because…”
“Because?”
“Because April is an angel who fell from the sky!”
I said it brightly, with the same innocent smile as when we’d first met.
“……”
Of course, no one believed me.
My answer was so absurd that one by one, they began to come back to reality.
“It feels like we were all under some kind of hallucination,” Yeniel murmured, rubbing her temples.
Max and the crown prince frowned as well.
“I think so too… but I can’t remember what I saw.”
“Nor can I.”
We decided to continue climbing the defense tower.
Sian stayed silent the entire time we walked.
Max, too, was oddly quiet.
At the stairs leading to the second floor, the crown prince turned to Sian and commanded,
“Sian. If possible, I want you to prioritize protecting me. The knights of the founding royal house may have once served us, but they are still monsters of the reverse world—they might attack me like any other creature.”
“…That’s impossible.”
A silence like hell itself followed.
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
I was a little curious.
The people who had been so quick to discard me—would they at least trust one another?
Sian desperately began to summon a high‑level spirit once more.
“Eschenella la Tium. Repasa Bennen…”
He must have known it would fail, yet still he tried—proof that he feared he’d be discarded as useless otherwise.
Indeed, compared to me (with my berserker trait) and the spirit mage Yeniel, Sian was the weakest. In the eyes of the crown prince, he was little more than dead weight.
A wet sound—wal‑kak.
Silent red bloomed and spread.
Blood welled up from within Sian, dribbling from his lips and splattering onto the floor.
Even as he covered his mouth, the blood seeped through, staining his robe.
The price for attempting to summon a high‑tier spirit without the qualification.
“Ugh…! Cough, cough.“
Sian doubled over.
“Sian!”
“Your Highness. My trait… it’s gone. I can’t summon high spirits. My magic and all spirit arts are useless in the Archmage’s reverse world.”
“……!”
“I’m no longer any use in combat. I can’t protect you, Your Highness.”
For an instant, Sian’s voice trembled.
It was only a fleeting expression, but enough for everyone to recognize the despair written on his face.
“Is that your honest answer? Right now?”
The crown prince’s voice was icy cold.
Something about his tone felt… wrong.
Why is he like that? I thought. Normally, he’d just calculate silently and move on—he’d never openly lose his temper over someone losing their ability.
It wasn’t immediately relevant to me, but still—cornered as Sian was, he must have mistaken that coldness for contempt, for the weight of being deemed useless.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Good. Internal discord is useful—especially before I switch sides.
