#078. Dad Is Too Kind (2)

#078. Dad Is Too Kind (2)

Lonoewe and Hansel’s clash.

It was a collision of experiences.

The experiences of the vampire’s victims, and the vampire’s experience.

Ironically, Lonoewe, who had grown stronger by consuming the tragedies of countless victims, wielded the power of those victims.

Conversely, Hansel, who had overcome a terrible tragedy and grown stronger by consuming the blood of exploiters, wielded the power of the perpetrators.

They each wielded reversed powers, but the one with the upper hand was Lonoewe, not Hansel.

“Even if you have many kinds of powers to wield, the amount of ‘resources’ to unleash them is finite. A high-ranking vampire’s plaything, who elegantly avoids trampling on others and eschews blood-drinking, can never surpass the amount of mana I have increased with the souls I have trampled upon and the gold I have extorted from them.”

Rhonowe, who possessed so many more resources, did not hesitate to trample others underfoot.

His ceaseless barrage of instantly-cast, incantation-free magic was a quantity of bombardment difficult to overcome with mere blood power.

Deflecting volleys of energy bolts, fire bolts, and ice bolts with thorns of blood, he charged headlong, yet the kaleidoscopic elemental arrows that followed, the lightning that flashed like quicksilver, drained his strength.

Even a vampire’s thick, concentrated blood magic, faced with the relentless magical onslaught, eventually dwindled.

‘The moment this blood is entirely depleted will be my end.’

An inescapable defeat materialized in Hensel’s mind.

In contrast, the future of Rhonowe’s mana being depleted… Hensel, at least, could not envision it.

The key to overturning this contest, from the beginning, lay not with him, but with Ian.

“Go on. Whatever it is, I will crush it.”

Rhonowe’s provocative gaze.

He did not fear Ian’s intervention.

Rather, he goaded him on with arrogant eyes, as if wanting to test that power with his own eyes.

Ian did not avoid the challenge.

Here stood a wicked alchemist for a wicked brainwasher to confront.

Only one villain, of Rhonowe and Ian, could survive here today.

“I know ‘where’ you bestowed the power you took from my mother.”

“…A rather sharp deception, but it will not work on me. Not even Pinkie could access that classified information.”

“Is it so strange that I know the fact that you gifted my mother’s talent and swordsmanship as a genius swordswoman to the ‘Hero’ is classified?”

“!!”

“But I already know. And I will wager this secret against your power. If you do not relinquish an amount of power commensurate with the secret, you will forfeit the power you gained through exchange as compensation.”

Though the method was different, the power that Rhonowe wielded was also a type of brainwashing.

However, the difference was that it was a brainwashing that affected both himself and his opponent.

Exchange.

This ability presented exchange conditions and exacted a value equivalent to them.

But depending on how you approached it, this was also possible.

First, forcibly present valuable information and, if he failed to offer suitable compensation, his power would be lost.

A ‘strategy’ that reversed the power of exchange, which relied on mutual transactions.

A strategy that, even if the opponent did not desire the transaction, exploited such a transaction to forcibly demand an exchange.

Secrets were one of the most powerful bargaining chips.

Because their mere awareness weakened the opponent.

If he accepted the deal, he would lose a portion of his power, but if he refused, the exposure of the secret would force a tremendous loss upon him.

How many adventurers had fallen, how many had been defeated, before arriving at this strategy?

How many players had failed and had to return to the beginning?

But the strategies of players who did not know how to give up eventually reached their goal.

Rhonowe’s strategy.

‘The combat power required for the formal strategy is a clan of 12 reaching at least Grade 7, or a raid of 24 all leveled to Grade 6.’

Here, all the combat power required was compressed into a single Hensel, and the knowledge and role of forced exchange accumulated by 12 or 24 people was borne by Ian alone.

Surprisingly, the subjugation of the Chapter 3 boss, condensed into just two people, had a possibility of realization.

“I present an ‘alternative condition’ for the exchange. I will not share the secrets of your ‘brainwashing’ ability with anyone, nor will I reveal them in any form. Conversely, if you do not agree to this deal, your ability will surely be revealed. Power encompasses knowledge. This alternative condition is valid.”

Rhonowe was confident.

This, then, was the counter-attack against those who preyed upon the weaknesses of the Exchange.

Weakness wasn’t something one possessed alone.

Everyone had a weakness.

Even more so those who wielded dishonorable power.

That was how he had risen to his position within the Hero Party.

He had encountered many of the powerful’s secrets.

The number of secrets he held *was* his power.

Enough to build his own workshop within Count Dracula’s central spire and perform the ritual of the Lion’s Resurrection.

‘You are no exception. My son, inheritor of my wickedness. Isn’t accepting this exchange reasonable?’

Ronove would only lose a portion of his power.

But Ian would lose all his human connections.

No one sought to harm others while simultaneously losing everything themselves.

“I don’t care. Even if you expose me.”

He was being denied.

Ronove’s worldview, that is.

For the first time, there was an exception.

“Are you serious? This would revert all the human relationships you’ve built to nothing. Are you confident that you can endure that? You’ve seen closer than anyone what becomes of those who lose everything. Weren’t you raised witnessing ‘Theresa’s’ collapse?”

Ronove’s intent was clear.

Were you prepared to become like that?

“If my courage can defeat you and bring peace to Mother, then I am willing to embrace a future where I am hated by all.”

Ian’s will was firm.

Ronove laughed.

The power of a few of his instant-cast spells vanished.

“Very well. As the price of this trade, I have lost a fraction of my power. But now you cannot avoid ‘exposure’. It is time to pay the price for your deeds.”

Ronove’s telepathic magic echoed widely beyond the spire, throughout the entire vampire lord’s castle.

[Ian, son of Theresa, possesses the power of mind control. Mind control twists and distorts the hearts of men. All affection you have felt for the human called Ian is a feeling warped by mind control. You cannot guarantee that any fondness, any experience, was genuine.]

“!!”

[Cease this meaningless fighting and return. Especially the ‘Holy Maiden’ and ‘Inquisitor’ of the ‘Order’. Or perhaps this is preferable. If you intend to execute this heretic among heretics, this ‘Mind Manipulator,’ then come and find me. I will grant you the opportunity to destroy my son, who deceived you with his own two hands.]

Ronove was certain.

The Order knew no compromise.

With this, the Holy Maiden Cecilia and the Inquisitor Maria could no longer side with Ian.

Instead, they were enemies.

Even if the others tried to defend Ian, those two at least would turn against him, becoming enemies who sought his death, creating dissension.

If anyone climbed the spire, it would be either the Inquisitor with a mace stained with the blood of her comrades, or the Holy Maiden.

“This is the price of your arrogance. Do you see? Even after losing a portion of my power, the gap remains unbreachable.”

Even the blood he had absorbed while ascending the castle was being lost, and Henzel’s complexion grew paler and paler.

“Henzel.”

“I won’t stop. If we were afraid of death, we wouldn’t have taken on a fight you couldn’t win. Compared to Marbas’ seven hundred years of despair, this human is nothing.”

“Huhu. An astonishingly emotional vampire. That is why you cannot win. Every ability has an ‘aptitude.’ The vampire’s aptitude lies in a cruelty that seeks out tragedy. There is no blood that will resonate with a vampire’s power that empathizes with the victim. That is why your blood is draining so rapidly.”

Ian realized that even the information Ronove was throwing out, as if doing him a favor, was tied to the “Exchange.”

If a worthy counterweight to the information he offers cannot be placed upon the scales, the price shall be exacted by force.

For instance, by forfeiting ‘combat endurance’ and collapsing at an ever-steeper angle.

“You are mistaken. Behind Hansel stands the will of seven hundred years’ worth of sacrifices, the ones who brought down Marbas. It is a fortitude unbesotted by cruelty that allows Hansel to endure like a human, untouched by the countless ‘cruelties’ of blood.”

It can be felt.

The rate at which Hansel’s blood was being consumed, growing ever faster, visibly improves.

Even Roneve’s treacherous tongue – the cruel magician and alchemist who drove so many to ruin – cannot break Hansel, not while Ian, the wicked mind-manipulator, still stands.

“Heh heh heh. Foolish to the very end. For your sake, it would have been better had Hansel fallen, had you lost here and now. Your obstinacy has finally permitted it. The arrival of ‘reinforcements’.”

The twin entrances of the spire.

From one emerged Theresa.

From the other, Maria.

“Ian. Is that truly the case?”

“Maria… sister.”

“Do not call me ‘sister.’ I am an Inquisitor of the Revolutionary Order. If you are truly a mind-manipulator, a wicked mind-manipulator who twists and distorts human hearts… then you are an enemy of the Revolutionary Order. And an enemy of the Inquisitor. The enemy I must strike down!”

Please, say it isn’t so.

The fervent will contained within Maria’s eyes pierced Ian’s heart.

His mother, Theresa, rising from the opposite side, demanded an answer as well.

“I am…”

Ian denied nothing of his past, nothing of the evil deeds he had committed.

No, he could not.

The moment he denies the results of the exchange, Roneve’s power, lost during the prior ‘forced exchange,’ would return.

“I am a wicked mind-manipulator who twists and distorts human hearts. There is not a shred of falsehood in Roneve’s words.”

“…I admired you. I sincerely believed you to be a saint possessed of noble faith. It is regrettable. That it was all a lie.”

Maria squeezed her eyes shut.

Strength surged into her slackened hand.

A palpable bloodlust bloomed in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her mace.

“Theresa. Step aside.”

“I cannot. Ian is my son.”

“And a heretic.”

“…”

“If you will not yield, then so be it. Perhaps it was always destined to end this way. I shall strike you down as well.”

A bygone infatuation.

Emotions once mistaken for love.

All were defiled, and the girl’s rage burst forth.

“This is the consequence of your actions. Are you satisfied?”

“No. I cannot be satisfied. Nor can I yield. Therefore, I shall continue to declare it. The information you are forced to exchange.”

“…?!”

The collision of Theresa and Maria.

Bearing the betrayal of comrades who had once been allies upon his back, Ian continued to declare.

“The true reason Count Dracula, boss of the Financial Faction, does not belong to the Beastmen Alliance is because of the possibility of the natural manifestation of ＜Ancestral Bloom＞, traceable through his blood. And you tricked the beastmen into becoming test subjects by pretending you would bestow that power upon other races.”

“…Pinky. Perhaps making an example of that wretch instead of simply disposing of him was a miscalculation.”

“The fault is all the evil you have wrought. The demand remains the same. Loss of the power you possess. Refuse, and all the captive souls will become your enemies. That ‘Exchange’ ability, knowing this, will acknowledge the value of the exchange and forcibly hasten the loss of greater powers.”

Adventurers have no wicked past to defend.

Thus, they can weaken and defeat Lono’we with righteous ease.

But for me, who has so much to lose, this is a battle of revelations.

“Then I, too, shall tear apart your soul and heart. Your very existence is a symbol of the tragedy that ruined Theresa.”

“Lono’we! Can’t you shut your mouth?!”

“Heh heh heh. It is of no use, Theresa. Do you understand what I offered in exchange for your ‘Swordsmanship’ and ‘Genius’? It was you. Ian and Anna.”

“!!”

“This is the truth. Theresa lost her swordsmanship because Ian, you were born. And she lost her genius because Anna was born. That is how she fell. Because you were precious. That preciousness destroyed your mother. From the day you were born, you became the original sin, the symbol of the tragedy that ruined your mother!”

No loss of power through exchange occurred.

That was the proof.

There was no lie in Lono’we’s words.

“No. Don’t take such drivel to heart!!”

In the past, Theresa’s words held no falsehood.

My birth brought ruin to her life.

If I had never existed, she could have been different.

“It’s all lies. I have never once regretted giving birth to you!!”

The radiant life of a genius swordswoman.

The glittering life of a noble lady.

A life that could have endlessly ended in a filthy alleyway at the whim of a player’s choice, but it didn’t have to.

“Ian!!!”

“Tch. Can’t stand to hear it. What a complete sham~?”

My mother, screaming towards me, and Maria, standing in front of her in tears.

Lono’we, trying to break me with cruel truths, and Hansel, bleeding, drawing nearer to death with each passing moment.

All eyes turned to Saint Cecilia, who had newly ascended the tower’s steps.

“Lono’we is the one who ruined Theresa. Ian is the one who raised up Theresa after she had fallen. Where, in all of this, is Ian at fault?”

“You… a Saint of the Order, condoning and defending a mind-control mage? Do you believe your God allows you to use your divine magic for such things? It’s a heinous act that deserves immediate penance to your god.”

“Of course, they allow it. What could be wrong with scolding adults so pathetic they blame their children for their faults? Heh heh. You’re the one who needs to apologize. Apologize for a subhuman fiend, a failure as a parent, even pretending to be human.”

Despite all the harsh truths, Cecilia did not deny Ian.

The core of her heart was not easily broken or shaken, like Maria’s.

“I see. I shattered everyone’s hearts, yet I was not enough to overcome even the Saint. I concede. You are a true Saint. A much better person than the fake Saints of the hero party.”

“Your praise sickens me, so just bite your tongue off and die. You’re not even worth being alive!”

“It is regrettable, but I am not the kind of man who would obediently die when asked, with such quick renunciation.”

The twisted grin on Lono’we’s face deepened.

“Even I never expected the day would come when I would use this magic. But it seems there is always value in accumulating power. My understanding has grown.”

Lono’we unleashed the final pattern of the third boss, the one that would corner the mind-control mage the most.

“Mind Control Release.”

A wide-area release skill that simultaneously dispels all mind control.

A skill that brings an end to the mind-control mage’s false bonds.

Magic that forcibly returns distorted and twisted hearts to their proper place was activated.

Teresa, too.

Maria, too.

Hansel, too.

Cecilia, too.

Every companion who had followed, climbing the spire.

Their eyes snapped wide, struck by the aftereffects of the Mindbreak.

[MINDBREAK]

[Effect: Nullifies all compulsions and reveals the nature of any mental distortions.]

It was done.

“What… what is this?”

“How could this be…?”

“This… this is the Mind Weaver’s work…?”

A chorus of bewildered voices.

Ian closed his eyes.

He steeled himself, ready to be struck down by any hand.

“This isn’t… not a single strand of it is evil…!”

But the voices that reached Ian’s ears were not laced with wrath, directed at him.