Chapter 2 : The Eternal Second’s Gambit
First, I drew near to the female lead. She was a kindhearted girl—unlike Phileon—so it was by no means a difficult task.
“I have heard much about you from my master! He says you are a sorceress of remarkable skill…”
“Eryon, let us not weave falsehoods.”
“Ha-ha, yet it is the truth…”
Later, I also delivered the documents Count Volx so fervently desired.
Since the other mages had already provided them, my refusal alone would have seemed far too suspicious. I had no choice.
Perhaps for that reason, though he summoned me countless times, Count Volx never once discerned that I harbored another intent.
There was no need to deceive anyone else.
Fiona, disheartened by me, had long since returned to the family. The mages of Volx within the Tower of Magic had already distanced themselves. As for the remaining sorcerers, they too shunned me—out of fear of Volx and Delarc.
Even my titles were no different from those etched in the original tale:
The Eternal Second.
The Family’s Shame.
Volx’s Failure.
‘But that shall soon come to an end.’
I forged a flawless false identity, prepared my escape route. None cared for me any longer. Even Phileon no longer sought me out.
‘Eryon hides it well, but just as in the tale, she must be preoccupied with her bond to the hero.’
And then—three months after the heroine entered the Tower of Magic—came the mission entrusted to the three of us: myself, the heroine, and Phileon.
The timing was identical to that in the original tale: an investigation into the monsters that had arisen amidst the ruins of the ancients.
On the day we reached those ruins, I provoked Phileon just as Raylee had in the story, and proposed a wager—who would slay the greater number of beasts.
And the outcome was precisely as foretold.
“I told you, Raylee—you shall never best me.”
Yet my entrapment with the heroine had been part of my design all along.
The snares lingering in the ancient ruins were so intricately wrought that even Phileon took time to detect them, allowing me to remain alone with the heroine.
Without Phileon—only the two of us.
‘By now, Phileon must be facing the assassins Count Volx dispatched.’
In the tale, it was I who led Phileon to those killers, taking the heroine hostage to bind his hand.
That mission had been a grand snare woven by Count Volx to see Phileon destroyed.
And during that clash, Phileon slew me—
With a single, decisive strike.
‘When Count Volx beholds Phileon returned alive, after slaying both me and the assassins,
“L–Lady Raylee! Those things!”
They were all but phantoms of my own design.
“W–what in the world is this…?”
“Are those… demons?”
“What?! Why are demons here… Kyahhh!”
“Eryon! Hide yourself!”
The crashing of boulders, the earth-shaking tremors, the dreadful screams—all were born of my sorcery.
I had prepared it so, after leading Phileon away, for had he been close, he would have pierced through the illusion in an instant.
I shoved Eryon aside and cried out:
“Run! Quickly!!”
“We must flee together!”
“I must hold them here. I cannot allow the demons to ascend to the surface!”
“B–but…”
“Besides… this is my sin as well.”
“Your… sin?”
“In truth, this place was once the site of Count Volx’s experiments—to summon the Demon King.”
“What!?”
“It was I who received the Count’s order and brought Phileon here. To kill him.”
The heroine froze, paralyzed by shock.
“I am sorry… for telling you so late.”
“Raylee…”
“These creatures are but the remnants, the by-products of that ritual of summoning. Should the Demon King himself be called forth, demons far more dreadful than these shall flood into our world.”
I smiled with sorrow.
“Please… stop Count Volx.”
“……”
“In my laboratory within the Tower, I gathered every record of what the Count had done in these past years. Use it.”
I had contemplated revealing those documents long before, yet always withdrew at the last.
For I knew well, Phileon would never believe me.
He had always despised me.
But at the very least… he would listen to Eryon.
With a bitter smile I whispered:
“Please, Eryon… I beg you.”
And before she could answer, I hurled myself toward the phantoms.
KWOOOOONG! The ceiling collapsed once more, a wall of stone dividing us.
“Raylee!!”
Everything proceeded precisely as I had devised.
“Ah… my performance was flawless.”
I continued weaving spells to leave the traces of a fierce battle.
There was no need to conjure corpses of demons—for they hailed from another realm, and upon death, they vanish like smoke.
As do the humans devoured by demons.
“But if I leave nothing at all, suspicion may arise…”
I tore apart my cloak and scattered it about.
A few drops of my own blood—painstakingly collected over three months—I splattered across the ground, mingling strands of my hair amidst the wreckage.
“This will suffice, will it not?”
When I had fashioned a dreadful scene that could conjure only the darkest imaginations, I crept upward toward the surface.
For months I had walked these ruins as if they were my home, all for this plan. I knew every passage as I knew the lines of my palm.
Soon, I located where Phileon and the heroine were.
From afar, I raised my scope, and though distance separated us, I heard their voices as though close.
“Master, Lady Raylee… she… she protected me from the demons…”
The heroine sat upon the earth, weeping in anguish. A pang of guilt struck me, for I had deceived her so cruelly.
“It was my fault… if only I were stronger… I could have saved her…”
And Phileon…
‘He looks exactly as he did in the past.’
No—truthfully, he bore the very same emotionless visage he had worn years ago.
‘Had he not, of late, smiled mockingly whenever he looked upon me?’
And yet…
‘To see no reaction at all—it is rather disappointing.’
But of course, to him, I am but the daughter of Count Volx.
No more than a stone cast aside upon the road… just as in the original tale.
Yet none of it mattered to me.
‘At last… I am free!!!’
I emerged from the ruins dancing a danse macabre.
And as the plan decreed, I left the Empire behind, fleeing wholly to the Eastern Continent, where none who knew me could ever find me.
Five years passed.
The Empire had changed but little since my departure.
“Thank you for choosing our service. We wish you a pleasant journey!”
The crew’s greeting drifted to my ears as I stepped forth slowly.
‘It has been so long… since last I spoke the tongue of the Western Continent.’
The reason I returned, after five years? As ever… money.
Upon my first arrival in the East, I lived as a mercenary. Few sorcerers dwelt there, so work consumed me endlessly.
With the gold and ties I forged then, I opened a potion shop—one that flourished beyond expectation.
Until, a year and a half ago, a quake reduced the building to rubble.
Potions ruined, materials destroyed, and—tragically—the vault itself shattered, stripping me of every coin.
Bound by contracts I could not fulfill, merchants demanded compensation, leaving me no path but to return once more to the mercenary’s life.
And thus… I accepted this task.
“Lady Rex Emile?”
I pressed my temples, drowning in bitter memories, when a voice called out.
A tall youth approached, doffing his cap before bowing with courtesy.
“I am Brandon of the Asil Agency. You requested aid in transporting your luggage to the inn, did you not?”
“Ah, yes! Indeed. A pleasure to meet you. I am Rex Emile.”
Brandon smiled as he clasped my hand.
“You speak the Western tongue fluently.”
“Yes. My parents hailed from the West, and they taught me. Yet as I was raised wholly in the East, this is my first visit to the Western lands.”
“Then it falls to me to guide you safely. Consider it my duty.”
“Thank you.”
I lied as effortlessly as breathing, hefted my satchel, and followed him.
As I wandered the streets anew… no great stir of feeling arose within me.
A trace of nostalgia, perhaps, but no true joy. After all, I carried no fond memories here.
Everything lay as it had when I departed…
Until I stopped, frozen.
…No. There was one thing that had changed.
Pointing toward a massive bronze statue in the square, I asked:
“What is that?”
It was a likeness of a woman with flowing hair, clad in a mantle, bearing a staff—the very image of a sorceress.
“She seems to be battling a beast that rose from the sea.”
“Ah, that statue?”
“I studied history a little, yet I do not know who she is.”
“It is only natural. The statue was raised merely three years ago. Perhaps her name has yet to reach the histories sent East.”
“I see…”
“Ah, so much transpired in those years! I still recall my shock upon hearing the Demon King was nearly summoned!”
I nodded absently, until suddenly I froze in place.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it? Yet it is wholly true! The Tower of Magic declared it officially!”
“……”
“And the greater astonishment—that the man behind the summoning was Count Volx himself, the very hero who once repelled the Second Great Monster Wave!”
I had not expected to hear this tale so soon upon setting foot in the Empire once more.
“And what became of the Count?”
“The Tower apprehended him before he could complete the ritual. Isn’t it remarkable?”
My word… it seemed everything had indeed concluded well.
Relief softened my heart. It appears events had aligned with the original tale after all.
“And after that, they raised this statue.”
…But wait. Was there such a statue in the tale?
“None of it would have been possible without that sorceress. Her name is…”
Fortune favored me—Brandon was about to reveal her name. I, too, began to guess, lips parting to speak.
The sorceress who had done all this. Her name was…
“Eryon…”
“Lady Raylee Volx!!”
My mouth fell open, frozen, unable to close.
