Chapter 16

I had a dream.

I vaguely realized that this was probably a dream.

Still, it wasn't certain that it was a dream.

If it wasn't a dream, there were no rules that allowed me to do whatever I wanted without thinking about the consequences.

There was no reason to slack off either.

So, I took action.

If I decided to do something, I had to give it my all.

I shouldn't leave any room for regret.

It seemed that the enemy was approaching.

A vast army.

Elves, beastmen, various spirits, dwarves, giants, dragons, ghosts, undead, demons, and all kinds of races gathered—forming a multi-racial mixed army that seemed familiar from somewhere.

In contrast, our forces were few.

In front of the throne, there were magnificent golden chairs, but out of the eight seats, five were empty.

Moreover, of the remaining three seats, two of the pieces were already broken and reduced to debris.

They must have been destroyed by that army.

It wasn't surprising.

The disparity in strength was too great.

On the last remaining chair sat a piece made of beautiful crystal.

The finely crafted piece was in the shape of a wolf.

It seemed that this was all the force I had.

...What a lopsided battle.

While the enemy had over a thousand pieces of various kinds, I had only one piece. Although my piece was the strongest, the difference in numbers was stark.

No hero in history, ancient or modern, has ever defeated an army with a single rider.

The power of numbers is that great.

That's why people are captivated by tales of lone heroes and seek out fairy tales.

If it can't be achieved in reality, at least they write it down in fantasy.

This is a natural conclusion.

Everyone has experienced it at least once.

Sometimes they draw it on paper, sometimes they imagine it, and sometimes they experience it in a fantasy world.

So, Helian did the same.

In the sandbox called [Tactics Chronicle], he pursued romance,

worked together with his companions,

grew into the form he aspired to be,

achieved the feat of a lone hero,

experienced both the bitter and the sweet,

defeated the strong and helped the weak,

brought peace to the world,

extended a hand of love to close neighbors,

and destroyed obstacles with his strength,

intoxicated by the taste of victory.

Helian had achieved all these things, which were nearly impossible in reality, through constant effort, albeit with a bit of luck.

---But, it seems that those glorious days are finally coming to an end.

The lone wolf-shaped piece bravely charged into the army.

The piece rampaged like a thousand riders.

But after slaying a thousand, it was crushed by the ten thousand-strong army.

The "Legion of Ten Thousand Demons" advanced, crushing the remains, and finally reached the king's castle.

Now Helian had no pieces left.

It was a checkmate.

The king's piece had no power to fight.

Unlike soldiers, it had no room for growth.

Having lost all his forces, all that remained was the weakest piece, a pitiful state.

There was no way to turn the board around unless something drastic happened.

But he wouldn't give up.

He wouldn't resign.

Even if it was a futile struggle, he felt that resigning here would be spitting on the pieces that had followed him to the end and the history he had carved out.

He had long been prepared.

He had woven 150 years of history, thinking that this might happen someday.

He should have been mentally prepared to face the conclusion.

But he was scared.

The emotion in front of the conclusion screamed.

This isn't what was promised.

There was no such harsh reality in the sandbox he loved.

No.

He didn't want to die.

Why did it come to this?

What did he do to deserve this?

This ending is too cruel.

However, the situation unfolded as if mocking Helian's plea.

The "Legion of Ten Thousand Demons" surrounded the throne.

Terrifying monsters that a human could never defeat glared at the king's piece.

With a heavy thud, one piece from the legion stepped forward.

The piece had horns.

The piece had a demon-like face.

The piece had red skin.

The piece held a mace drenched in blood.

The piece raised its weapon.

The crude mace approached at a lethal speed.

There was no way to avoid it, and the weakest piece couldn't withstand the attack.

Thus, the king's piece was shattered by the blood-stained mace, its insides scattered—

"――――aaaaaaahhhh!?"

He jumped up.

Rapid breathing.

His heart screamed and pulsed violently.

"Guu...!"

His chest ached as if he had an arrhythmia.

Bending his body into a C-shape and pressing his right hand to his chest, he saw a clean, white sheet in his field of vision.

Where was he?

While enduring the pain in his chest, he managed to lift his head.

What he saw was not an unfamiliar ceiling but a familiar wall.

"......Here, is"

A king-sized bed, too large for a single person.

A luxurious chandelier.

An elegant canopy.

A huge painting on the wall, adapted from a photo from the early days.

This was a room in the castle, the king's private bedroom.

"......Lord Helian?"

He heard a dazed voice and turned to the left.

There, he saw Reive, who looked like she was about to cry.

This was a new emotional expression pattern, a thought crossed his mind out of place.

"Oh, thank goodness... You've finally awakened...!"

Reive's amber eyes were moist.

The transparent droplets at the corners of her eyes soon turned into tears, which ran down her white cheeks.

Finally, Helian realized that he was lying on the bed in the bedroom.

"――――A, dream?"

There was no sign of the approaching army.

There were no monsters surrounding him.

The only one in the room was his first subordinate, who was worried about the king and shedding tears.

"What? What happened...?"

He moved his right hand from his chest to his forehead.

The palm felt sticky with unpleasant sweat.

As he recalled the events leading up to this point, several fragments of memory flashed through his mind.

The founding celebration,

the transfer,

the audience,

the exploration,

the elves,

the inter-racial war,

the village,

the rebellion, and then—

"――!"

He remembered.

His consciousness suddenly awakened.

He instinctively put his hand to his head.

Fortunately, his skull was still intact.

But that fact didn't match his memory.

Didn't he die with his head crushed?

"――The ogre! What happened to the rebels? What happened?!"

His last memory was of the blood-rusted mace approaching.

Could that have been a dream too?

"Please calm down, Lord Helian. You mustn't get up yet. You've been asleep for over half a day."

"......What?"

Nonsense.

He had no memory of falling asleep.

He had no memory of getting into bed on his own.

No, if his memory was correct...

"Did I... get killed by that red ogre?"

The words, spoken like a soliloquy, made Reive lower her gaze and reluctantly answer, "Yes."

In response, Helian let his upper body, which he had raised, fall back onto the bed.

The high-quality bed, made with expensive materials, sank silently and softly caught his body as it fell.

---He understood.

The memory of being killed by the ogre was real.

The king was killed by the rebels.

But,

"――Did the auto-resurrection work?"

In the game [Tactics Chronicle], the king's death did not mean an immediate game over.

There were penalties and limits, but the king could be revived.

That's why Helian was revived.

He was killed by the rebel ogre and then revived.

"......Reive"

He called the name of his subordinate.

Reive wiped the tears from her cheeks with her slender fingers and responded with a short "Yes."

"Is the throne safe? What happened to the rebels? What about that red ogre? What happened after that?"

"The throne is fine. The elite of the Second Legion, led by Baran, are still guarding it. The rebels were thoroughly eliminated this time. After crushing their skulls, they were completely erased, leaving not a single piece of flesh. And that red ogre... it had a unique ability."

Unique ability.

An ability that a character possesses independently of their race or class.

A rare and unpredictable power, but often an irreplaceable and excellent ability.

Sometimes, a unique ability can even turn the tide of a battle.

That's what the red ogre had.

With a slightly trembling hand, he opened the <Tactical Virtual Window> and called up the <Character Information>.

A semi-transparent virtual window appeared before him. In the small display on the left side, the image of the red ogre was shown. On the right side, various stats and abilities revealed through battles, investigations, and defeats were listed.

Helian read the text in the ability section.

"‘Strike from the Nether’... An ability to counterattack once after death, huh?"

The effect was simple: "A guaranteed hit attack on the nearest enemy."

Since it was a guaranteed hit, it was already decided that the attack would hit the nearest enemy when the ability was activated.

And in front of that ogre was Helian, who had approached carelessly.

He had defeated it.

The extermination itself was successful.

Gardi, the commander of the Fifth Legion, had certainly killed the rebel.

That's why Reive and Ertina had let their guard down.

And that's how it ended.

"I'm sorry!!"

Reive suddenly knelt and bowed her head.

Regret that she couldn't hide was contained in her apology.

"Despite being entrusted with your protection, I failed... There's no excuse. I'm prepared for any punishment. Please, punish me."

With her head bowed, Reive was ready to accept any punishment.

After all, she had let the king, whom she was entrusted to protect, die.

She had betrayed the king's trust.

It was a terrible crime.

In her value system, the death penalty was appropriate.

So, she was prepared to drop her head if told to die.

"......Reive, come closer."

She responded immediately.

"Excuse me," she said, stood up, and walked to the side of the bed.

"You can get on the bed. Come closer."

She moved as instructed.

Although getting on the king's bed was considered impolite, the king's words took precedence.

She climbed onto the bed and leaned close to the king.

The king's hand reached out.

She didn't know his intention, but she didn't care what kind of punishment it was.

Reive stared at the hand approaching her, and when it disappeared from her field of vision, her thoughts stopped at the unexpected action of the king.

"――――Huh...? Ah, uh, eh?"

Her thoughts had stopped.

Yet, a voice escaped her lips.

It was a natural reaction, expressing confusion: "I don't understand what's happening."

The cause was the sensation of the king's hand touching the dog ears on the top of her head.

What Helian did was simple.

He just placed his hand on Reive's head.

Then, as if to confirm the sensation, he slid his palm and brought his right hand to her cheek.

In the process, the fingers that had been on the dog ears slipped off, and the ears, which had been pressed and deformed, stood up straight.

Ignoring the confused and completely stiff Reive, Helian stroked her white cheek.

The warmth transmitted through his palm. It was slightly hot.

If he applied a little pressure with his fingertips, the soft skin indented to the shape of his fingers.

A pleasant resistance.

He continued to slide his palm down to her neck, avoiding the silver choker and touching the base of her neck.

His fingertips felt the rapid heartbeat.

Next, he wrapped his arm around her slender neck and leaned his face close to Reive's nape.

Breathing in at a touching distance, a faint scent tickled his nose.

After a while, the pulse transmitted through his arm accelerated to an abnormal speed.

He slowly pulled his face away from her nape.

When he raised his gaze, he saw Reive's large eyes blinking.

In her amber eyes, which were close, he could see his own face reflected.

Reive's cheeks were slightly flushed, and her breathing was becoming rough.

"――――"

Ignoring her state, Helian, as a final check, wiped the tear at the corner of Reive's right eye with his index finger.

The slightly wet sensation on his fingertip. He licked it.

---It tasted slightly salty.

"......!? ...! ...!?"

Reive seemed to be at a loss for words.

It was understandable to be confused by such sudden and unusual behavior.

It was a natural reaction.

If Reive were a real person, it would be normal to be confused—extremely natural.

Helian closed his eyes once.

He exhaled and then opened his eyes quietly.

Recalling the sensations that were undoubtedly real, from his visual, auditory, olfactory, and tactile senses, to the taste, which he had yet to confirm.

Looking at Reive, who was still opening and closing her mouth.

Seeing her new emotional expression.

Seeing the reality that could never be expressed by a combination of zeros and ones.

And, therefore.

To prevent something from spilling from the corners of his eyes, Helian looked up at the ceiling.

"......Ah"

Indeed, there was no sign of the approaching army.

There were no monsters surrounding the king.

The legion commanders were still alive, and the country was safe.

What he had seen earlier was indeed just a dream.

But—

"This... isn't a dream, is it?"

He couldn't return to reality even after waking up.

So, he had to say it out loud.

He finally said it out loud.

Thus, he recalled the intense events of the day.

The numerous facts and phenomena that diverged from [Tactics Chronicle].

---The senses that were supposed to be dull in the game became real.

When he cut his palm, blood flowed, and the pain was real.

---The key language lost its meaning.

Characters began to act on their own judgment and harbored undeniable self-awareness.

---He obtained impossible information in a forest he had never seen.

He heard a history that didn't exist in the game and learned that there were many humans, who were supposed to be a unique race for the king.

---He didn't return to the real world even after waking up.

The events he experienced today were filled with a sense of reality that was not a dream.

---And most of all, the person in front of him.

The person who had been with him all day was undoubtedly a real existence.

He had re-observed this fact with all his senses, including taste.

Therefore, Helian had no choice but to acknowledge it.

He had no choice but to accept this cruel reality.

---This is not a dream.

Being transferred to an unknown land with the castle.

Being unable to return to the real world.

The half-elves facing a tragic situation like a poorly written drama.

The ogres who rebelled and became gruesome corpses.

The existence of NPCs with unique personalities in front of him.

All of it was real.

It was no longer a game.

It was not a dream.

This was undeniable reality.

But it wasn't the real world.

It wasn't inside [Tactics Chronicle].

It was a different world that just resembled it.

He was now in a place he had never been, experiencing events that only existed in comics and novels.

---He had come to another world.

"――――――――――――――――"

...Strangely.

Surprisingly, he didn't lose his composure.

He thought he would be unable to accept the reality and scream in a half-mad state, but he didn't.

Perhaps he had already accepted it to some extent.

The fact that he had tried to convince himself that this was a dream was proof that he had already understood it as reality.

That's why he didn't shed tears.

That's why he didn't shout in anger.

But, a little, he was getting close to his limit.

"......Reive"

He called out.

But there was no response.

Looking to the side, he saw Reive, who seemed to be in a complete panic, opening and closing her mouth while frozen in place.

He smiled slightly and called out again.

"Reive"

"A... Yes!"

This time, she responded.

Poor thing, her face was bright red.

The triangular ears on her head were moving frantically, and her fluffy tail was displaying an indescribable behavior.

Thinking about it, he had committed a terrible act of harassment, but he would deal with that issue later.

"Besides the ogre's rebellion, were there any other major problems?"

"Y-Yes! No! I mean, um...!"

"You don't have to rush. Answer calmly."

"I'm fine! I'm calm! I'm calm!"

He smiled again.

If she were really calm, there would be no "um."

Reive was supposed to be a calm and capable older sister character. The "um" was too much of a contrast.

"Let me say this. There have been some minor issues, but no major problems that could immediately shake the nation."

"Is that so... What about the other legion commanders?"

"They are continuing to carry out the king's orders. The commanders of the Third and Fifth Legions are giving instructions to their legions while waiting for your decision."

"Then, have the Fifth Legion Commander continue to maintain order. In case of another rebellion, instruct them to take action on their own judgment unless otherwise directed by me."

"......Is that alright?"

The question was whether it was appropriate to continue entrusting the Fifth Legion Commander with the task after failing to handle the rebellion.

But, if someone else had been in charge, would they have predicted the red ogre's counterattack?

In fact, Reive and Ertina hadn't noticed it either.

The same would be true for other legion commanders.

Unique abilities are quite rare. Moreover, being attacked by a corpse in a world without undead monsters or necromancers was unimaginable. Who could predict such an exception?

Gardi would have fulfilled his duty if not for the "Strike from the Nether." It should be fine to continue entrusting him with the task.