Oknodie approached Darknodi with a cautiousness, glancing around nervously.
The desire to flee was still strong, but too much had happened.
Someone had to clean up this mess.
Now that Mahabharata was dead.
Only she could step up to the task.
Darknodi sensed Oknodie’s presence without even turning around.
“It cost too much in sacrifice.”
“You’re not bad! I was, I was the one who was bad!”
“I’m not making excuses. This is all the result of my foolishness.”
Darknodi’s kind-hearted nature, which didn’t blame others, returned to life.
How could she harbor such a cruel heart when her life was extended by Mahabharata’s sacrifice?
Such self-deprecating remarks were like a dagger piercing Oknodie’s conscience.
“It’s all my fault. I’ll do anything to help. Please give me a chance to be forgiven!”
Darknodi watched Oknodie kneel and bow in apology.
Then she approached and grabbed Oknodie’s leg.
If she was going to throw a fit, Oknodie would have to accept it peacefully.
Holding her lips tightly in anticipation of the coming pain, Oknodie felt something odd.
The leg she expected to be flung away was simply raised upwards.
“If it were Oknodie, this is how she’d apologize.”
“This is… a curtsy?!”
“Go back. And take care of the mobs for me.”
“Were you watching all along?!”
“I’ve stopped now. This spying, which only tormented me.”
Oknodie realized how starved for affection this child was.
Darknodi, though a spitting image of Oknodie, was special.
The interpretation she had formed of Oknodie didn’t encompass such expressions or moods.
But the thought that Darknodi was far more qualified as Oknodie’s avatar than simply imitating her appearance and relations crossed her mind.
Sincerity.
And desperation.
The depth of that desperation was distinctly different.
“If you value it that much, you can go back. I can gladly pass the mantle to you.”
“Following Oknodie, now I have to imitate you too? How cruel, really.”
“Ah! I didn’t mean to hurt you!!”
Seeing Darknodi’s sorrowful smile, Oknodie rushed to redo her curtsy.
Darknodi straightened her clothing to cover her exposed belly, putting Oknodie back on her feet.
She tucked the protruding shirt back into her pants and smoothed it out.
The blood on Darknodi’s sleeves, which had splattered from Mahabharata’s decayed body, amplified Oknodie’s feelings of guilt a hundredfold.
“I’m not worthy to be with him. If I hadn’t been so greedy from the beginning, if I hadn’t lashed out, this wouldn’t have happened. My selfishness will ruin that child, even if I stand beside him. So… I’m not worthy to be with him.”
“Darknodi…”
“Go back. And make Mob happy.”
In Darknodi’s sad eyes, Oknodie saw the truth.
Though she had become a Demon King, her desire to oppose or usurp her original self vanished.
What remained was the crushing need to atone for her sins and the hollow wish to escape the weighty reality.
“Oknodie. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Live a better life than I did.”
With those final words, Oknodie couldn’t bring herself to stop Darknodi from leaving.
“Oh, Oknodie! The city is, the city is in ruins!!”
“Dark Princess!! All the forbidden lifeforms have been released!!”
“…I’ll help with the aftermath!”
Oknodie was overwhelmed by the consequences of all her actions, paralyzed by a never-ending tragedy and the sight of Darknodi’s deep, sorrowful expression.
Thus, she threw herself into work.
To restore the city.
To capture the surviving, pretending-to-be-dead, fleeing forbidden lifeforms and re-isolate them.
The restoration work, which she wished would take longer, finished unexpectedly quickly.
The adventurer’s supervisor, Kiote, and the Golden Dancer Riske rolled up their sleeves alongside her, working diligently.
“You look kind of sad.”
“You did look gloomy.”
“Well, if a city built with that much money and resources ended up like this, it’s understandable you’d feel down. We need to work harder to help, especially now.”
The managers of the Forbidden City pledged to work diligently to gather, contain, and fill back the forbidden lifeforms for the moody Oknodie.
*
Oknodie returned.
To the Academy.
To the Mirror Dungeon.
To the empty throne.
She hugged her legs close and sat down.
She sat up straight and then lay on her side.
Still, her unsettled mind was full of sadness and fear.
[How was your outing?]
“P-Principal…!”
[Was it fun?]
Was she questioning her responsibility in Mahabharata’s death?
Should she transform into her form instead?
Maybe that would release her anger.
Countless thoughts raced through her mind, but transforming into Oknodie brought the same instincts she had taken on.
If she did such a thing, Omoshiroi would take it as an insult and would likely kill Oknodie on the spot.
“It wasn’t fun…”
[Why wasn’t it fun?]
“Things kept happening that I couldn’t handle. And I couldn’t take them back, so, so… I’m sorry… Ugh. Professor Mahabharata…”
The Principal chuckled lightly.
[Mahabharata enjoyed it.]
“Huh…?”
[So you don’t need to feel guilty.]
The infamous Dragon Principal.
Rather than being eaten as punishment, receiving comfort was beyond what she could imagine.
[You might have forgotten, but I’m the Principal of this Academy. Mahabharata was my lowest-level student whom I taught for the longest time. What was so enjoyable that made him hang around me?]
For the first time, a gentle look crossed the reptilian eyes that flickered with the dragon’s greedy and ferocious glint.
How many years had they traveled back in time, what centuries of the past could possibly cross Oknodie’s mind?
[In conclusion, that guy is one who does not do what he doesn’t want to do, even if it kills him. So don’t pity that fool.]
If he enjoyed it, let him have a drink.
With a face closer to relief, akin to a festival than a funeral, the Principal disappeared as he pleased, just as he had appeared uninvited.
Oknodie didn’t resent him.
She just felt a bit braver.
Braver to speak of all these colossal events without keeping them secret, to tell the truth.
Of course, a target for the tale was decided.
It was none other than Oknodie.
*
Oknodie’s news was truly shocking.
“So the Man’s Representative performed a divine show, and the professor was so thrilled that he ascended unconsciously, and now the Darknodi who inherited all his wealth has become the Demon King, right?”
“…That doesn’t sound quite right!”
“Isn’t that exactly what I said?!”
Without my knowledge, they were throwing a super fun event.
I was going to do it first!
Twice with the shock show, and people might get less startled and more bored, so I sulkily crossed out my appointment for the divine show on the event schedule twice.
“So where did Demon King Nodi go?”
“Apparently to the Demon Realm, but I’m not sure…”
“Aha. Darknodi, moved by Mahabharata’s sacrifice, is going to the Demon Realm to sacrifice herself for humanity just like the professor!”
“Shouldn’t we stop that?!”
“Me? Why?!”
It’s strange enough to have this event, but Oknodie and I had fundamentally different perceptions.
“I won’t stop my kid from doing what she wants!”
“While thinking that, you left the child locked up in the isolation facility… in the fortress?”
“Training is good for her!”
“In a mana confinement facility?!”
“If she gets caught wandering around and gets stuck in mana operations, crying and being hit, wouldn’t it be better if she learns other methods in advance?!”
That’s why I like Magic Swordsmen.
Mana is sensitive to external environments, but the swordsmanship training yields maximum efficiency in the most extreme conditions.
If she could break through the mana confinement facility with the accumulated skills, that would be the icing on the cake.
“Wait a minute. Did you misinterpret something?”
“Misinterpret?”
“The professor didn’t ascend; he passed away.”
“Oh. You didn’t see the messages!”
Oknodie had led a quiet life, disconnected from the world of points, so she might not know.
But to me, who was more earnest about earning points than anyone else, such messages appeared.
[Pay homage. A new god has been born on the continent.]
[The name of the god is Mahabharata.]
[He occupies a seat among the 24 in the heavenly realm, as the [God of Points].]
The divine presence is established through the expansion of a world domain that covers a world with its dominion.
This is the typical condition for ascending to divinity.
But sometimes, gods ascend in slightly different forms.
A plunderer who has stolen too many divine offices, overflowing with power, causes the heavenly throne to react and becomes a god.
And natural gods, whose accumulated virtues in life have reached such a vast extent that their deeds touch the heavens, resemble theirs in the expansion of the heavenly realm.
Mahabharata belonged to the latter.
Though called a natural god, at this level, he was nearly a spirit.
Elemental spirits of fire, water, and the spirit of points.
For over a millennium, he grew stronger at the Dragon Principal’s side for world peace, distributed points, soothed the leaders of various nations to not provoke the malicious tendencies of the Evil Dragon, appropriately compensated the harsh educational curriculum, and collected points from various places as needed.
In fact, it’s ambiguous to say he “collected points.”
Without Professor Mahabharata, countries might have perished by angering the dragons long ago, there would be nations ruined for not cleaning up accidents that occurred in the academy, and Great Evil would destroy nations if he had never become a professor.
All threats would have been managed in exchange for the points he received.
“So he’s probably enjoying himself in the heavens now. When new content opens, new players get super busy!”
“Then it’s a relief…”
“How was it? Is he really a good person?”
“…It’s scary now that such a professor is gone.”
“Pfft. Oknodie, really. I have no idea why you’re so scared. Is it due to your inherent traits that allow you to flee anytime you’re in crisis?”
Even now, she flinched as if wanting to run away, which made me chuckle softly.
She looked like a little coward, reminding me of my old days.
Did I really have such a period back in the day?
Am I really not misremembering?
Just thinking about how I think differently now makes me feel a little dizzy.
I try to poke the keyhole but it just won’t fit, making me feel frustrated.
What does it matter?
I’m no longer a newbie!
*
Oknodie thought for the first time in a long time.
Was her the replica of Oknodie the incredibly ridiculous being beyond imagination?
Though they weren’t intimately close, that child could be so calm regarding the professor’s death yet display that special innocence along with a transcendent inhuman nature.
Between human and inhuman.
Between mortal and transcendent.
A strange and fearful child with an unfathomable gap coexisting.
“Still… I feel guilty.”
“For what?”
“Mahabharata thought of me as you, and that child thinks of you too. He died for you, but you’re living unharmed. Doesn’t that make his death meaningless?”
“I’ll live hard enough to cover for that person!”
“The guilt I feel towards Darknodi is even greater. She must have someone she likes, and her Academy life should be enjoyable. Isn’t that so pitiful?”
“Now that she went down the Demon Realm route instead, she’ll have new connections! You know? In the Demon Realm, she can use Dark Mana to throw balls that connect with other dimensions to collect demonic beasts!”
Collecting monsters and making them fight is a unique content of the Demon Realm.
It can be done outside, but it’s not as strong and lacks diversity!
Honestly, whether I should find Oknodie’s assertions reassuring or confusing is hard to tell.
“Aren’t you sad?”
“There are many sad things. People die easily. If we’re always gloomy, we can’t move forward.”
What a wonderful thing to say.
If it weren’t for the image of being punished in the Dark Cult’s punishment room.
Now sitting in the visiting room, Oknodie finally gathered the courage to ask.
“I’ve been curious for a while, but why were you locked up there?”
“I got caught stealing snacks in the morning!”
“…I feel sorry for Darknodi.”
When I think of Darknodi, born as a replica of the original and now suffering in the Demon Realm, I can’t help but wonder if this is right.
“But you know.”
“What?”
“There’s a route for Mahabharata to become a god, but usually, when that opens, something big happens, right?”
“With the professor’s character, I didn’t think it would be a problem… why?”
“The professor was, before being a professor, a subordinate of the Principal, right?”
“True?”
“And now that the professor has become a god?”
“Hmm? Oh?”
“If a god asserts the authority to appoint disciples to the Principal, how much stronger will the Principal become?”
Oknodie’s mouth dropped open.
Firstly, what task was Oknodie currently facing?
Handling the Principal.
But the snowballing series of events rolled off in an unspeakably absurd direction.
As if it weren’t enough for the Principal, who lacked rivals in the Middle Realm, to grow even more powerful.
No, at this point, it surpassed the degree of a mere tumble.
It was as if a massive snowball bouncing down a hill had struck a town directly.
‘If the Principal receives support from Mahabharata, who has become a god, just how much stronger would he get…?’
I wasn’t just doing something to feel sorry for Darknodi; I was also doing something to feel sorry for Oknodie.
