'The assistant writer…'
Is in Godric's hands.
The fact that they're trapped isn't the problem. Well, of course, that's an important issue, but since they're already a corpse, concerns about their health have taken a backseat.
What matters right now is─
'The writing authority.'
The last time I checked, the distribution was something like this: Butier had 31%, Godric had 30%, and Orlie had 2%.
If Orlie being trapped isn't just a physical limitation but also a suppression of their authority as a writer…
If that diminishing share has gradually shifted to Godric…
'The authority could end up greater than the main author's.'
In terms of share, Sub-writer 2, who holds the remaining 37%, should technically take the main position, but… well, who knows.
"…"
37%.
The number that exactly matches my scenario weight as a character.
Since the last moment of El Dante, or perhaps even longer, I've been suspecting it, though unconsciously.
[Thank you for keeping your promise.]
Original Leonardo said that. I promised to protect the members of the Ertinez family. Perhaps, Leonardo ended his own life, handing it over to Leovald.
'Foolish possession story.'
Isn't it a rather common and popular theme? Especially in modern times.
'On the other hand, the
The main writers stick to the traditional heroic style. It could be said that the style was changed to resolve the issue since Godric inevitably killed the protagonist.
'Original Leonardo said he made a promise with me.'
That means I was the one who proposed the terms of the deal to him.
Which means, maybe I…
[
A warning in red text suddenly appeared before my eyes, swirling around. It was threatening, as if trying to drive an outsider away from a restricted area.
The translucent window bathed the shabby tent I was hiding in with a bright red light, and in an instant, a chill ran through me, causing me to hesitate and step back.
Thud, something touched my back. A cold sensation crawled up my spine, and my head jerked back.
Only then did I realize that what the
Godric, whose entire body was bathed in the glow of twilight, was there.
"I thought you were hiding somewhere, checking alone? Were you really that worried about that hypocrite?"
"Ck…!"
A mocking smile, and one that almost seemed pitying. Soon after, a dull pain surged around my neck. Godric was choking me.
"Ugh, hack…!"
In an instant, my breath became shallow, and I was suffocating. My vision flickered. It felt like fireworks exploding in front of my eyes, blinding me, and tears began to form, blurring my sight. Through the foggy vision, I saw Godric, making a soothing sound, "Shh."
"That's right, just a little more."
[
My brain felt numb, and my thoughts gradually slowed down. In the final, final moment, I was barely allowed a single breath. With just a small inhale, an overwhelming sense of satisfaction spread throughout my body.
As my legs gave way, and I collapsed, I faintly felt Godric's body draw closer.
"You're really hard to hold onto."
***
Vittorio walked briskly around the expedition's camp.
It wasn't difficult to obtain any supplies when the Ertinez family knights were around, but when Vittorio wandered alone, people wouldn't easily hand anything over.
'It's probably because we were just attacked…'
It had been a long time since he'd received such cold treatment, but it didn't bother him.
Vittorio filled his water pouch and grabbed some bread and ham before quickly setting off. The reason he took not only water but food as well was because of something Leonardo had told him once.
[An individual must take good care of themselves. Injuries sustained on the battlefield can lead to a fall, and in such cases, no one can guarantee your life. When you have the luxury, it's better to look after your companions too. The reason altruistic behaviour is valued is that it contributes to survival.]
[Then I'll give you this…]
[…That doesn't mean you need to share your food with me. Don't blindly sacrifice your own things, learn to distinguish who really needs help. For example, Isaac tends to get careless when he's nervous.]
[Careless?]
[In eating, resting, or sleeping. That's when we can help him.]
Leonardo didn't just teach swordsmanship; he taught how to survive. Until then, learning from experience on his own had been necessary, but having someone by your side to show you these moments was a continuous lesson.
And now was exactly when Isaac needed help.
'I thought he seemed nervous.'
So, I should prepare everything.
As Vittorio was about to cross through the gap in the camp to return, someone suddenly blocked his path. Startled, he looked up to see a knight wearing a delicately decorated white helmet.
Vittorio recognized them as the royal guards.
Raul hated the royal guards so much that even seeing their shadow would make him furrow his brow and mutter, "Those damn guys," which made Vittorio become more conscious of them.
Although Vittorio didn't fully understand Raul's hostility toward the royal guards, the heavy weight of the sword sheath pressing against his chest made his fingers twitch. The face behind the helmet was hidden from view.
At that moment, Vittorio saw something brilliantly approaching. The long sleeves of a robe fluttering in the wind and blonde hair carelessly flowing. Eyes glowing red.
The king was being carried in a palanquin, heading towards the old castle ruins.
Vittorio quickly lowered his eyes. He understood why the royal guard had blocked his path.
He knew that Leonardo and Isaac were wary of the king. But beyond that, his entire body screamed that he shouldn't attract attention from that person.
As the palanquin passed directly in front of Vittorio, the child caught a faint sensation through the slightly open door. Something familiar, but he couldn't quite put it into words. Was it a smell? A sound? Or a shape? Everything he could see, hear, or smell was too faint, like a mirage, making it hard to pinpoint exactly.
However, the feeling of the blanket as he opened and closed his eyes every night, or the dampness brought by the morning dew—those simple, everyday sensations—briefly passed through his mind.
As Vittorio stood there absentmindedly, the king's palanquin had already moved far away.
Only then did the royal guard, who had lowered his sword sheath, walk away without even glancing at Vittorio.
'Something's strange…'
A sense of foreboding surged within him, and he quickly hurried his steps.
But what awaited him was not the familiar smile or touch, but the perplexed expression of Duke Marchez.
"Where is Isaac…?"
At that moment, a knight approached and reported to Duke Marchez.
"We searched the area, but we couldn't find him, Your Grace."
"Then, search further, farther."
The duke, having briefly glanced at the knight, calmly began listing the facts.
While Vittorio had been away, the king had visited briefly, and Isaac, who had been talking with him, suddenly disappeared and had not returned since.
The water-filled pouch dropped to the ground with a thud.
The dirt floor became damp, and a dark-coloured puddle began to form.
***
'I made a mistake.'
The first thought that came to mind when I opened my eyes was regret.
The imprisonment of Orlie, Godric's intentions, the possibility that I might not just be an outsider who fell into this world, all rushed in at once, and I became careless.
'No. No, from the start… Godric must have been planning this for a long time.'
Since the last moment of El Dante. After realizing that I have the coffin of the corpse and the repository of the original work, he must have planned everything meticulously while setting up the stage for Act 3.
'The dragonbone sword, the First Field Army, the evil dragon, those things.'
Plans upon plans, layered on top of each other, blurring the intentions. I knew Godric always had more than one plan, but I still fell into his trap.
As I muttered curses to myself, suddenly a voice rang out.
"Your eyelids are twitching. If you're awake, open your eyes."
The voice I least wanted to hear in this situation.
I had to figure out where I was and what Godric was plotting anyway, so reluctantly, I opened my eyes. Godric filled my vision. He was sitting on a chair a few steps away, guarding the bedside like someone tending to a patient.
"What—"
My voice cracked, making it unbearable to hear. The pain that I hadn't been aware of suddenly hit me hard. After coughing dryly several times and curling up, Godric, who had approached unnoticed, stroked my back and handed me a cup.
From the smell and colour, it seemed like tea, but I waved my hand and shoved the cup away. It flew far, knocking over a carefully woven colourful mat and leaving it in a mess.
"You're prickly."
Godric withdrew his hand without seeming particularly upset. When I shoved him away and stood up, I felt an unfamiliar weight around my ankle.
'What…'
Then, a strange sound echoed.
Feeling the chill, I looked down and saw a thin chain connecting my ankle.
Isn't this the kind of shackle that's put on prisoners? I looked back at Godric, and he nonchalantly pushed his hair behind his ear as he answered.
"It's not high enough to fall to your death, but I figured if you tried jumping, it would be better this way than keeping you asleep all day."
"Did… you hit me?"
I barely squeezed out the words, rasping them out. Godric smiled gently. His smile was as flawless and solid as the delicate marble statue's face that I could see over his shoulder.
'…Why is there a statue in the middle of nowhere?'
Only then did the surroundings come into full view.
'This isn't a tent.'
This wasn't the tent I had seen endlessly during the expedition. Through an open door of a building made of solid stone and wood, a hallway could be seen.
"Where am I?"
Godric stretched his long, white fingers behind my back. I could see a large window. The same window that Godric must have thought I might try to jump out of.
Outside the window, an unusual sight was unfolding.
The sun was rising while the moon was setting. Like a broken wheel that couldn't stop spinning, the celestial bodies shifted erratically, flickering between light and dark.
The multi-layered buildings that filled the city were quickly being erected only to collapse, and some trees had their roots not in the ground, but growing horizontally in mid-air.
The neatly laid roads suddenly sank below the ground, unnaturally cutting off, while birds in the air froze mid-flight, unable to move.
Most strangely of all, there were no shadows.
With no distinct shading, everything appeared flat, as if it were drawn on a two-dimensional plane. Like a poorly painted stage backdrop on a wooden board.
Godric whispered softly.
"Welcome to the royal palace."
[Entering ■■■■
[Incomplete Scenario Area: ■■ severely hindered■■■.]