Reunion (1)
[A new scenario note has been assigned!]
Take 1. Entrance of the Vernis Mountains (Day/Outside)
The assembled hunting squad from various regions come into view, with banners of numerous noble families fluttering in the wind.
As they move deeper into the mountains, tensions between the nobles stationed in the royal capital and the provincial nobles become apparent.
Noble 1: "Look at those tents. The ones from the capital have already taken all the prime spots."
Noble 2: "It doesn't matter. Once the main event begins, assigned seating will be arranged."
Noble 1: "Tsk, can't you see? They have no interest in the hunt. They're just trying to curry favour with the king."
Take 2. Ancient Fortress of the Vernis Mountains (Day/Inside)
The hunting squad set up a temporary outpost in the midsection of the mountains, while the noble leaders are invited to a welcoming banquet at the ancient fortress.
Duke Marchez: "Young master, come and take a seat here."
Duke Marchez, Count Bermont (Lopez), and the young master from the Ertinez family gather, creating an atmosphere of unity among the southeastern and western regions. At the same time, the divide between the provincial and central factions grows more pronounced.
Take 3. Ancient Fortress of the Vernis Mountains (Night/Inside)
King Godric leads a grand procession and arrives, marking the beginning of the eve of the Leap Year Great Hunt War.
Main Characters: Leonardo, Duke Marchez, King Godric
Scenario Clear Condition: [Participants of the Leap Year Great Hunt War gather at the ancient fortress of Vernis.]
The scenario notes completely took over my field of vision before gradually dispersing, revealing a new sentence.
[Special ability,
1. Informant (Immersion: 80%)
2. Disguised Lover (Immersion: 72%)
3. Apostle (Immersion: 37%)
'Oh.'
Could it be that my actions during the intermission were reflected?
The immersion levels of Informant and Disguised Lover had increased quite a bit.
[The
[The
[The
So that's why they had been so quiet during the intermission. Were they simply lying low because the stage wasn't in motion?
As I glanced at the masks, each asserting their opinions before fading away, I realized the hunting squad had already passed along the road to the ancient fortress.
Before long, the structure referred to as the ancient fortress in the scenario notes came into view.
The space was vast, resembling ancient ruins. As I curiously took in my surroundings, Duke Marchez wiped his glasses with a cloth before adding an explanation.
"This is the fortress of the old dynasty. As you can see, parts of the towers have collapsed. It has remained unused since the capital was relocated to Kargasthol, but every Leap Year Great Hunt War, it serves as the central camp."
"Ah… Thank you for the information."
Careful not to break the illusion of being nothing more than an attendant who had just learned of the duke's identity, I replied with measured politeness. Sensing this, Duke Marchez casually remarked that there was no need for excessive formality.
I responded courteously that I would keep it in mind, though I intended to maintain some distance for now. There was no reason to reveal that I was the same person as the Black Cloak—at least, not yet. Best to avoid any unnecessary recognition.
Once the duke had moved on, I spotted Raul a little ahead, his expression stiff, his lips curling up on just one side.
His eyes had narrowed into thin slits as he scanned the nobles around him, an insincere social smile plastered on his face. Occasionally, his cheek twitched as if he were chewing on something—though I was fairly certain what was actually swirling inside his mouth were unspoken curses.
Leonardo muttered seriously.
"We need to isolate him."
"What… Is he a fighting cock or something?"
"Hmm."
Leonardo didn't bother denying it. Instead, he swiftly herded Raul to the back of the formation.
Raul, hissing like an agitated pufferfish, bristled with irritation before ultimately flopping onto a supply wagon of his own accord.
With the crowd growing denser the deeper we ventured into the mountains, it was better to keep him out of sight—someone might recognize his face. The knights murmured among themselves, causing a small stir.
"The technical advisor has collapsed again!"
"Again…?"
Finally, at a location some distance from the ancient fortress, the entire subjugation force began setting up tents.
"Do not unpack everything! Once the opening ceremony ends, we will move to our assigned sectors."
Lopez, his expression tense, issued a warning in a sharp and impatient tone. Unlike the younger Duke Marchez and Leonardo, who had never participated in a Leap Year Great Hunt War before, Lopez had prior experience.
By nature, Lopez would have normally avoided sticking with us, preferring to run off the moment we arrived in the mountains. However, after enduring the oppressive formalities of the dinner event, his spirit had been thoroughly crushed, reducing him to an efficient information dispenser.
It seemed he believed that if he shamelessly clung to the central nobles or King Godric, I would make him pay for it. Honestly, I hadn't given it much thought. But since he had voluntarily turned himself into a convenient tool, I had no complaints.
And at least when we approached the ancient fortress—where only titled individuals and their attendants were permitted entry—I hesitated for a moment before scanning the hundreds gathered with the
I still remembered what had happened the last time I dared to directly observe King Godric's procession. But not everyone here was from the royal capital. Believing that it would be fine, I steeled myself and opened my eyes.
The dead, the survivors, those who walked around wearing someone else's skin, and humans who had submitted to other entities were all jumbled together in one chaotic mass.
Monsters wearing human faces blended in as if it were the most natural thing in the world. If this wasn't Halloween or a Hyakki Yagyō,1 then what else could it be?
As my fingers instinctively curled in hesitation, a firm yet gentle hand slipped between them, wrapping around mine in reassurance. I glanced briefly at Leonardo, who was soothing me in his usual way, then gave a silent nod.
Under the grand stone arch of the ancient fortress, heavily armoured royal guards were stationed, meticulously verifying the identities of those entering. The procedure was similar to what I had experienced at the El Dante checkpoint, but far more stringent.
Rather than a mere sprinkling of holy water on the forehead, each entrant was required to prick a finger on a wedge-shaped needle prepared beneath the archway, drawing a small drop of blood before having holy water poured over it.
Though the nobles grumbled at the indignity of bleeding themselves, they complied without resistance, understanding that this was a necessary precaution for the king's safety.
I immediately noticed something unusual.
'Two jars of holy water…'
The guard on the left sprinkled water on those who are human.
The guard on the right did so only when an assimilated being approached.
The holy water that the guard on the right was sprinkling was probably fake. It was just a ceremonial procedure for show, yet it seemed that the other attendees were convinced by this visible process, believing that nothing corrupt had been mixed in.
Given that the king had aligned himself with corrupt forces, manipulating such rituals was likely an easy task. In the end, they were all just playing along with his scripted scenario.
At that moment, the two royal guards came close and locked their gaze onto me. The royal knights, who were nothing more than puppet corpses controlled by those forces, did not even blink.
They pressed my hand onto the wedge-shaped needle with force, and blood quickly began to bead up. When the holy water was sprinkled over it, the tiny wound remained visible. The guards observed that the wound did not heal but did not comment on it.
Instead, they simply nodded, allowing me to pass despite the wound remaining.
'Godric must have ordered this.'
They were testing whether my earlier statement—that my death would be real, and I would never heal—was true. It seems they still found it hard to believe in the concept of an unkillable hand, one that could drag everything down into death and sink it.
I chuckled bitterly, and just before passing through the arch, the two guards spoke in perfect unison.
"His Majesty welcomes you."
The sound of their voices clashing against the flat metal plate of their helmets echoed hollowly, sticking to my ears.
And that was it.
'The opening act is already this intense.'
For some reason, Leonardo, who also seemed to have been pricked sharply by the needle, approached me with a hand still trembling from the holy water. He held my hand and, noticing the blood rising from my fingertips, handed me his glove. It was a black glove with a small silver ornament bearing the emblem of the Count's family, attached to the wrist.
"This should help conceal it."
I whispered a quiet "thank you" and briefly squeezed his hand before releasing it. Above us, the banquet table prepared for the opening ceremony was visible at the top of the ancient fortress.
I took a step back, staying in my role as an attendant. The real Duke Marchez, with his double in front of him, also stood in a similar position. Not long after, the sound of drums echoed from afar.
The deep resonance of brass instruments, the footsteps of dozens of people, the fluttering of heavy flags hanging from tall poles—these sounds filled the air. The nobles all rose from their seats, bowing their heads in a display of subservience to greet their ruler.
While everyone else looked down, I realized I didn't need to lower my posture. After all, with everyone already bowing, it didn't matter whether I bent my waist or stood straight. The approaching presence wouldn't care either way.
A massive banner emblazoned with the royal crest cast its shadow over the fortress. The symbol of the sun, embroidered in gold thread on the flag, illuminated the space behind Godric's head like a halo.
His reddish-brown eyes swept over the crowd and then stopped, locking onto me. He pulled the corners of his mouth into a smirk.
[Sub-writer 1: Hello?]
It was an unpleasant déjà vu.