Dark Fantasy’s Extra Chapter 195

“…So the Infiltrator is destroyed. What an incredible skill. Just who could they be?”

Charmol pondered.

Though Infiltrators had unparalleled abilities in stealth and tracking, the trade-off was that their information gathering itself wasn’t particularly impressive.

At best they could only determine where a predetermined target was currently located, but details like what was being said or their condition were difficult to ascertain.

Moreover, due to their characteristic of moving underground, they could be easily neutralized just by entering areas where the ground was stone rather than soil, or water, or inside buildings.

Still, as long as targets were walking outdoors, they could follow them without ever being detected to track their location.

Even Blanc hadn’t noticed the Infiltrators’ existence for 500 years, yet now one was suddenly destroyed.

“Could there have been another surveillance we weren’t aware of?”

Yorick’s suggestion was possible.

The destroyed Infiltrator was one that had been recently attached to Eugene.

Though the exact internal circumstances of the Order were unknown, it was easy to guess that Eugene would be drawing attention there in various ways.

It wouldn’t be strange for high-level surveillance to be attached, and such surveillance might be able to detect an Infiltrator.

“…No, that Eugene is just a lower-ranked hunter. To detect an Infiltrator would require at least a high-ranked hunter or elite agent from the Intelligence Department as surveillance. They wouldn’t use such high-tier personnel for something like this.”

“Then… could it be that third party?”

“Most likely.”

The third party.

An exceptional someone they had theorized about since hearing the information about Vile’s defeat.

They had heard that Ozwald, Eugene, and a few mid-ranked hunters had worked together to take down Vile.

Taking down Vile in just one day after storming his base with just that level of force?

Not a chance. 

There were no signs of a high-ranked hunter being involved, and it was even more impossible for a 1st-rank hunter to have stepped in.

Though they had heard the witches disliked Vile, lending aid to Eugene’s group made even less sense.

In the end, there was only one conclusion they could reach.

There was someone with power exceeding a high-ranked hunter that Charmol hadn’t known about.

Either someone who had hidden even more thoroughly than Charmol for hundreds of years, or a recently born behemoth, or another card the Hunting Order had kept hidden, or perhaps some being from foreign lands they couldn’t even imagine.

Any of these were possible, but there was no concrete evidence to pinpoint which.

The only characteristic of this third party that Charmol could determine was that they were cooperating with Eugene.

“Damn it… that guy’s ability is the problem. Just where did he get such mind control power…”

Eugene’s unidentified mind control ability.

Most of the witches had already fallen to it.

That third party must also be following Eugene after succumbing to that ability.

If there was one question, it was why someone with such power would still be struggling as a lower-ranked hunter.

Everything was questionable.

It wasn’t a good situation.

But what angered him even more was that the mind control was being directed at Blanc as well.

Without a doubt.

Blanc’s obsession with that guy wasn’t just due to her nature but because of that mind control.

“To think he beat me to it…”

How much had he given to the witch to learn the dark arts of controlling behemoths.

After paying an enormous price that couldn’t even be compared to a mere lower-ranked hunter and making deals, that human had already been controlling Blanc long before.

An unbearable sense of humiliation and defeat.

If Blanc had at least acknowledged him honestly for his own character it would be different, but now only hatred and rage remained.

“This can’t go on. I can’t leave this in others’ hands anymore.”

“Surely you don’t mean…”

“I’ll handle it personally.”

“You mean… you’ll go to the surface?”

“That’s not my style. There’s a chance that mind control could affect me too, however slight. No, I should assume that even I wouldn’t be able to resist if we met directly. Since both witches and Blanc fell to it.”

“Then a trap?”

“Yes. A trap. But a crude trap won’t do. There are those protecting him. First, we need information. Find out where he’s heading and report anything noteworthy about his route, no matter how small.”

“Yes… but Master, if I may carefully suggest something?”

“What is it?”

“I, too, have encountered that guy several times, but I don’t feel I was particularly affected by mind control. I still hate him and could kill him anytime. There must be limits and conditions to that ability, so perhaps we should carefully investigate those first for safety…”

“Your words are correct. But we can’t waste time.”

“Time… you say?”

“Yes. Right now the witches merely desire him, but what if it goes beyond that? What if by some chance… they swear loyalty to him, or give him their full support?”

“S-surely that couldn’t…”

“Why think it impossible? The witches are already falling into his quagmire. Though they’re clearly keeping each other in check to capture him, it’s not easy for anyone to make a special move now. Then one of them might think the opposite way. If they can’t overpower him with force, they’ll try to win him over.”

“I can understand winning him over. But why would that lead to loyalty or support…”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten? What we did at Vinears?”

“…”

The fall of Vinears also started with small acts of winning over.

Winning over became trust, trust became loyalty, loyalty became blind faith.

That’s how they made the humans devour each other and destroy themselves.

“The possibility is more than enough. To prevent such a future, we must kill him and eliminate him completely. Don’t even leave a corpse. If possible, burn even his soul to nothing. He’s already transcended the categories of lower-ranked hunter, no, of humans and Beasts altogether. The world isn’t ruled simply by the strong. Don’t forget that fact.”

500 years ago, there were incomparably more behemoths than now.

Even Blanc, who could now be called the highest tier, was just an awkward high-tier power then, and Charmol was too weak to even present his credentials.

But what happened to Kenken who fought Little Mermaid’s army head-on alone?

What happened to Iron Hans who led an army of behemoths to invade Red Hood’s territory?

What happened to Arachne who built a nation of subordinates and was called a god in a castle that even a human emperor would struggle to build?

They all died.

Blanc, who had no special abilities and was incomparably weaker than Kenken, still survived with just the single ideology of running away.

He himself, who was ridiculously weak, still survived with just the skill of hiding.

Power was always necessary, but strength that relied solely on brute force or magical power was weak and unstable.

History had endlessly proven this fact.

“This is war. Fight to survive. Kill that guy Eugene.”

“What about increasing our allies?”

“Allies?”

“Yes. Getting help from those who want him dead.”

“…Indeed, we’ll need secret negotiations.”

*    *    *

“Nothing’s impossible with negotiation, right?”

Maia said while leaning her back against my chest.

In front of us, the campfire crackled as it burned and the edges of jerky skewered on sticks were being crisply roasted.

“No matter what, it’s not possible.”

“There you go again. Someone like me could make a good protagonist.”

“That’s not the issue. I’m not a god or anything anymore.”

“Tch. You don’t really think that.”

“…”

That’s true.

No matter how much I deny it verbally, the system still considers me a god.

That must be why the witches, Hilde, Gerda, and Zepetia are changing.

A kind of mind control, or rather fate manipulation.

And of all things, they’re all women.

The reason for that is obvious too.

Since the protagonists in my creations were always women, the system manipulates their fates and minds to assist my creation.

It makes sense, since fairy tale protagonists are generally women.

Probably anyone who could become a protagonist of the world would be influenced by me in some way.

Perhaps that’s even why women are more likely to be born with magical power than men.

“What I think doesn’t matter. The fact is I can’t create anything anymore.”

The current me can’t change the color of the sky with a single gesture.

I can’t grant anyone powers befitting a protagonist either.

Driving away Blanc or manipulating people’s minds around me wasn’t my intention either.

The system just intervened on its own.

Though the fact that I’m the cause doesn’t change.

“Then what if I help you become a god again?”

“That would be pointless too. I’m going to live and die as a human.”

I was a terrible creator.

Despite creating worlds several times, I never particularly improved and even caused destruction once.

…And I was also the one who made Vasilisa that way.

“You won’t die anyway, right? The system will protect you.”

“…”

That fact makes me most uncomfortable.

I thought I had been fighting with my life on the line until now.

I believed that was how I could repay even a little of my debt to the seniors who protected me and left.

But what if it was all meaningless?

What if I had a body that couldn’t die from the start?

What if the resolve I had staked my life on was actually useless?

I… just what parts of me are real?

What if… what if even my current thoughts and resolve to find Vasilisa are being guided by the system?

“No…”

I lowered my head in denial.

It was a weak voice that surprised even me as I spoke.

All the days I had desperately trained felt futile.

My pride as a hunter, my conscience as a human, even Eugene’s existence as a person all felt like illusions.

“Here. Eat first. It’ll burn if we leave it any longer.”

Maia took a skewer from the campfire and handed it to me.

“…Thanks.”

It’s pathetic, but I still feel hungry even in this mood.

I took the jerky skewer and took a bite.

As Maia said, it would have gotten weird if we left it any longer and let it burn completely.

That’s how fire is.

If you’re not careful, it burns everything.

Just like Vasilisa did…

“I’m never giving up.”

Maia said.

“I’m a witch now too, right? So I probably won’t disappear either. Since I’m a being bound to the system like the other witches.”

She swallowed a bite in one go.

“I have all the time in the world. Which means infinite opportunities.”

“Even so, I’ll die eventually. Even if I don’t die fighting, I’ll die of old age someday.”

“Hehehe, who knows? That’s uncertain too. You already died to the White Witch long ago but you’re still here, right? Even if you die as Eugene, maybe you’ll be reborn later.”

“…”

“If that happens, I’ll find you before anyone else. And raise you as my own god.”

“Please stop…”

“No. You made me this way, so deal with it.”

I was wrong.

When you feel truly awful, even hunger disappears.