<881 – The Unqualified One (4)>
“How about we put aside our grudge for now and deal with the Shinigami first!”
The members of the Dark Cult showed more hostility towards the Shinigami than caution towards me.
After all, the First President of the Dark Cult had just been trapped in the Netherworld, only to be killed repeatedly by the God of Death. Their grudge was practically sky-high.
“Get away from our President this instant!”
“If you even touch a finger on him, I’ll annihilate you!”
“Hey you, hurry up and bring the Shinigami Breaker!”
The aggressive attitude of the Dark Cult members made the Shinigami spin around in circles, eyes wide and hands raised.
Members who had been ready to attack hesitated with confused looks.
“Huh?”
Even I was taken aback by this behavior.
Is that…
“The Shinigami is surrendering?”
Indeed, it was a surrender.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the God of Death’s minion, cutting down mortals every time you come to the surface?”
“What’s this guy doing? Is he mocking us?”
“Stop! This child is not a harmful Shinigami.”
The tension broke as the once-frightened seniors shivered in shock, then called out in joy.
“President!”
“Are you back to your senses?”
The First President of the Dark Cult, wrapped in a dress as delicate and soft as fairy wings, lifted her head, revealing a striking beauty that bloomed like a flower.
If Titosso were a girl engulfed in sunlight blinding everyone, the President radiated light through her own beauty.
“Shinigami are combat slaves, created to serve the God of Death at the end of unimaginable torture where heroes lose their rationality and forget their pasts. They are just poor little lambs bound by their unfortunate fates, but if they can find their hearts again, they can indeed become human.”
Surprisingly, the First President had tamed a Shinigami that killed her, unbeknownst to the God of Death.
She replaced malice with compassion for the one who repeatedly killed herself under the God of Death’s orders, restoring humanity to a being whose mental power transcended ordinary limits.
“I’m more concerned about that child over there. What’s your name?”
“Oknodie!”
“How unfortunate. To think there’s another person of my class in this world.”
It’s hard to break through the pinnacle of a Magic Swordsman; it’s not a difficult class to enter.
The rarity worthy of discussion naturally becomes that other class.
Until now, this title had been used like a proper noun referring to me.
It’s a supreme class bestowed upon a girl with the potential of a Demon King.
“Dark Princess?”
“Unfortunately, that’s correct.”
The President surprisingly possessed a high purity of Dark Mana, enough to hold the class of Dark Princess.
Considering that the purity of Dark Mana cannot increase unless one is incredibly familiar with death, she likely considered the battlefield of death her cradle and playground.
How high must her affinity with death be after countless cycles of dying and resurrecting beside the God of Death?
‘It might not be as pure as mine, but it’s comparable!’
Just as I was astonished to see the President, she too was struck with awe upon seeing me.
“You too were trapped beside the God of Death?”
“I’m the formal heir of the Wahyhiemhai Foundation!”
As the President’s gaze demanded an explanation, the seniors of the Dark Cult glanced at me and hurriedly shared a summary of my life.
“The Wahyhiemhai Foundation artificially discovers suitable candidates through Dark Mana exposure and trains them under relentless orders of obedience, nurturing puppets to rule over the Dark Guild.”
“Oknodie was born as the Chief Scholarship Student through the cruelest education and, after the Director’s demise, united the remnants of the Foundation.”
“Ah, the Director of the Foundation. That man must have been the new ‘Shinigami Candidate.'”
At the President’s words, my ears perked up.
“Did our Papa become a Shinigami Candidate?”
“A hero transcends the label of a criminal. Unbound by good or evil, he’s a talented individual verified solely by ability, making him a suitable target for the God of Death, who seeks only to destroy personality and leave a vessel.”
“And what about Emperor Papa?”
“Why are there two Papas?”
The First President, accustomed to traditional family structures, found herself bewildered by the idea of having two Papas.
“Oknodie is the adopted daughter of the Empire’s Seonhwang.”
“Ah.”
“Did Emperor Papa go there too?”
“I couldn’t sense the Emperor’s presence.”
Though the Director of the Foundation had died while sealing away his power in the spiritual world, it seems the soul seal still lingers.
Staying hidden so well!
The longer Emperor Papa holds out, the longer the Director’s spirit will suffer and the time until Shinigami’s corruption will stretch endlessly. But… who cares?
The Director had made others suffer.
I don’t mind if the Director suffers a bit!
“While that family history is certainly unique, the power that saved me… was it yours, Oknodie?”
“That’s right! It was me!”
“As a recipient of favors, I cannot close my eyes without repaying a debt. If anyone wishes to be resurrected with my Power of Resurrection, I’ll lend you a hand. Do you have someone in mind?”
One person does immediately come to mind.
“Emperor Papa?”
“Unless he’s your biological father, a medium is required. If you have any belongings or treasured items he used in life, could you show them to me?”
“Here!”
I handed over the formal fountain pen belonging to Seonhwang Papa that I had separately stored at the bottom of my backpack.
Using the residual mana bound to the pen, the President connected it to Seonhwang Papa with the function of [Resurrection].
A large map was drawn on the ground following the dim echo of the revived connection.
“This is… Shinigami Candidate Tutorial Institute?”
As expected, the result was as I anticipated.
“I’m sorry. As someone just escaped from the Netherworld, I lack the ability to revive a soul so near to the God of Death.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t think it was possible anyway. I was just curious if you were there!”
“You’re quite kind.”
Yet, amidst our friendly conversation, a senior from the Dark Cult pointed an accusatory finger at me with a furious face.
“It’s true that Oknodie helped, but it’s also true they interrupted our resurrection ritual and barged in, nearly ruining it!”
The President gazed mournfully at the senior.
Feeling guilty, the senior fidgeted.
Regardless of how it came to be, I was her savior.
I can’t repay kindness with malice.
Expressing those thoughts through my expression, the President spoke again.
“I can’t fulfill your wish right now, but until the resurrection of the one you seek, please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“Do I really have to say it now?”
“If I start doing what needs to be done, I might not have time to use it for my benefactor.”
“What is it that you need to do?”
“Of course, it’s revenge. I have to track down and eliminate those who killed me and imprisoned me in a trap from which I could not be resurrected.”
Witnessing her determined energy for revenge, I felt the First President would adapt well to the current life.
So I answered without any burdens.
“Then please fill the vacancy left by Professor Mahabharata!”
“…Professor? Me?”
“It’s not much; just follow the simplified regulations from page 1 to 32,850, which I heard from Okashii-ne. It’s the handover document prepared by the former Professor Mahabharata in case they resign, and it’s stored on a mana board, so I was told you’d adapt quickly in 40 years!”
“32,850 pages as a summary? 40 years, quick?”
The First President, caught in cognitive dissonance, stepped back, sensing something was amiss, but the Principal, who was suffering from the tediousness of filling the vacancy, would never let such a good opportunity slip away.
Suddenly, a great head peered down at us from the split sky.
[You little rascal, how considerate! If you wish to repay the debt to my academy student, I, as the Principal, shall accept that debt for you. From today, become a professor at Gift Academy!]
“I-I don’t want to.”
[Don’t want to?]
Surprisingly, the President showcased immense mental strength by refusing in front of the Principal.
“I have a revenge to fulfill…”
[Who cares?]
“…”
[If you don’t intend to pay the debt, I’ll send you back to where you were. The God of Death would be thrilled to see you again, you know!]
At this point, with the Principal’s entrance, the President’s fate was almost sealed.
As a result, the Dark Cult endured the tragic experience of losing their long-awaited resurrected First President to the Principal right after succeeding.
“Wait a moment!”
While everyone stood stupefied or dazed, suddenly someone gasped in shock at something.
I found it surprising.
Since transforming into a girl, Sing had been terrified of catching others’ eyes and was now startled, yelling without caring about attention.
The Shinigami, who had been left behind alone as the President was taken away by the Principal, was playing with a sword.
“Sia, what’s wrong?”
“That’s Eastern swordsmanship.”
“Really?”
“It’s not just any swordsmanship. It’s the Eight Draconic Swords of the Eastern Empire, only said to be wielded by the Emperor!”
“What’s the problem with that?”
Thanks to the Eastern Empire’s wealth in swordsmanship content, I knew such styles existed.
But I was shocked by the next remark from Grandpa of Okashii-ne.
“As far as I remember, the Emperor who wielded the Eight Draconic Swords over the past few centuries has only been one person. Since ascending 20 years ago, that would be the current Emperor of the Eastern Empire, [Cheonkeunje]. If that Shinigami is using the swordsmanship of Cheonkeunje, then it raises quite a strange question about the current identity of the Emperor in the Eastern Empire, doesn’t it? Hehe.”
A non-existent Emperor exists simultaneously.
If he receives a death sentence, the clone also disappears.
Thus, we have the False Emperor.
That is, a fake Emperor.
[The new regional event in the Eastern Empire has been unlocked.]
[Time limit: 1 year]
A new crisis unfolded across the continent that players had yet to touch.
“What’s with this old man? How does he know that?”
It seemed peculiar enough that Sing stared suspiciously at the overly knowledgeable Grandpa of Okashii-ne, almost thinking he was the dark shadow behind it all.
