Chapter 7
My impression of House Nebla was a single one.
How much money had they poured into this place?
From the moment I entered the ducal house in a car, I was surrounded by a golden spectacle.
That impression became even more pronounced as I followed the chief butler, who had introduced himself as Sebastian.
A sword that had once been designated a kingdom's national treasure. What was it called again? The Fall of Secunda?
Even when he was explaining that masterwork of a sword, I didn't feel particularly moved.
Perhaps it was because Mist, who was following behind me, had told me about the circumstances of this ducal house.
'It smells like blood.'
Even I couldn't help being dazzled by such a display of wealth.
But these were possessions belonging to a family where blood relatives had slaughtered one another, so they left me feeling somewhat uneasy.
As I merely looked around and followed Sebastian's guidance, listening to him explain various treasures and works of art for some reason, we eventually arrived at the top floor of the mansion.
"This is where the head of the family resides. I pray you have a peaceful time."
As though he were unable to enter this room himself, Sebastian bowed politely.
Mist, who had been following me one step behind, also remained rooted in place, as if she had no intention of entering the head's room.
"Thank you for showing me the way."
With those words, I entered the room where the head of the family was.
My impression upon entering the head's room was very simple.
Heavy.
It felt as though I had dived into the deep sea with nothing on, with pressure pounding my body from every direction.
It wasn't mana.
No matter how excellent my ability to conceal mana was, I couldn't possibly fail to sense the force pressing down on the entire room.
Then was it an ability?
That wasn't it either. I had fought countless battles in the capital's back alleys, and abilities always had a distinct sensation when they used their characteristic power.
If it wasn't mana or an ability, there was only one answer for the source of this pressure.
"Welcome."
A sickly middle-aged man who looked as though he might die at any moment.
His muscles had wasted away, perhaps because even eating was difficult for him, leaving him with a terribly gaunt appearance. Yet the man's eyes shone so vividly that they seemed capable of boring straight into my brain.
The head of House Nebla.
The king of the back alleys and the de facto ruler of the South.
The name I had heard from Mist before coming here.
Serban de Nebla.
'Haa...'
As I looked at Serban before me, everything began to make sense.
The source of the pressure in this room was none other than the sickly man on that bed. It was simply radiating from him.
'Is he a monster?'
His body was utterly riddled with illness.
He probably found it difficult even to lift a glass of water, and yet he was giving off this kind of presence?
"Thank you for the welcome."
Admiration was one thing, but I still bowed my head to the duke.
"But why did you summon me here?"
He looked so ill that, in his current state, I could have accepted it even if he dropped dead on the spot.
Hearing my question, the duke raised one corner of his mouth and spoke in a voice thick with phlegm.
"To see the heir who will carry on my family."
"..."
"Come closer. My eyesight is failing, so I can't see you from that far away."
"Yes, understood."
At the duke's request, I slowly approached him.
A huge room. And at its center, the duke lay alone on an enormous bed.
Why?
Why was there a room laid out like this?
Step.
It was as though...
Step.
It was a room where I could rampage as much as I pleased.
Step.
As that thought occurred to me, I unconsciously fidgeted my hand and checked once more that the cigar was still in my pocket.
I had been told he was sick, so I had put it away because I couldn't smoke a cigar while facing such a patient.
Step.
And that consideration was my fatal mistake.
"Kheugh!"
A sudden attack. One with absolutely no warning whatsoever.
I could feel it—a formless something that seized my heart directly through my back.
'What?!'
Crunch.
The attack caught me completely off guard, followed by the sound of my heart rupturing.
Everything began to grow more distant.
With the heart that had been pounding so violently gone, my body began to die rapidly.
The sensation of air against my skin disappeared, and the taste of blood bursting from my mouth gradually faded as well.
I felt the aura of death I had experienced in my previous life encroaching upon my body.
And so my vision slowly began to turn black.
.
.
.
"So, what do you think?"
"Gasp!"
The vision that had gone black began to regain its color.
My senses returned, beginning with the distinctive hospital-room smell I had noticed from the moment I entered this room.
"Huff. Huff."
I reflexively groped at my chest to check my heart.
I had definitely died because my heart had burst.
Thump. Thump.
Yet as if to betray that thought, my heart was beating violently.
'What is this?'
The smoke was still being maintained.
The defensive smoke that was constantly maintained like a thin film coating every vital point on my body.
My final safeguard, maintained for twenty-four hours a day—even while I slept.
It possessed enough durability to stop even a decent sniper rifle and withstand a high-level spell at least once.
But had that been breached?
Yes, if it had been breached, I could understand. Dealing with an attack beyond my common sense couldn't possibly be as easy as it sounded.
‘No, no—it wasn't breached.’
My defense had not been breached even once since I had met and faced the head of the family.
Had he killed me by bursting my heart itself without penetrating my defense?
Then why had I come back to life?
I didn't know. My head was in a state of extreme confusion, as if it had been mashed into dough, with unnecessary thoughts getting mixed in.
"You're calmer than I expected. The previous one started screaming at the top of his lungs the moment his heart burst. It was so loud my ears hurt."
The duke's voice slammed into my confused mind.
I looked at the duke in front of me without trying to calm my ragged breathing.
"So, what do you think? What did it feel like to taste death?"
The duke smiled as though he were merely watching a minor spectacle.
What? How did I feel?
"Of course it feels fucking awful."
I dropped the honorifics.
Could I possibly speak politely to someone who had attacked me—someone who had actually made my heart burst?
"Why the hell are you asking me something like that?"
"Heh heh heh. Quite right. If I were treated the way you were, I wouldn't be speaking politely either."
Brushing back my disheveled hair, I glared at the man before me and spoke in a low voice.
"Hey, what the hell is this bullshit?"
I had to buy time.
Because I had refrained from smoking for the duke's sake, the amount of smoke available for use within my body was severely limited.
The duke answered my question in an unruffled voice.
"Why, I have to test you as well. People reveal their true nature when they die. So I killed you once to begin with."
What? They revealed their true nature?
"There are all sorts of reactions. Some scream when death suddenly comes upon them, even though they never thought they might die, while others are simply paralyzed by fear."
Don't make me laugh. That was supposed to be a person's true nature?
A person's instinctive desire not to die was only natural.
Was the manifestation of that instinct supposed to be their true self?
It was nothing more than the typical sophistry of a psycho.
"But you were different. Even after experiencing death, you immediately grasped the situation. Truly impressive."
That was because I had experienced reincarnation.
What was reincarnation? Wasn't it the fact that I had already died once? Death was something I had already experienced.
So naturally, my reaction had to be different.
"Oh, is that so!"
The instant the duke finished speaking, I gathered all the smoke stored within my body, along with all the smoke defending my vital points, and shaped it into a massive sword before attacking the duke.
The greatsword formed from that immense mass of smoke was truly enormous, nearly the size of a car.
Boom!
A cloud of dust erupted with a deafening roar befitting its enormous size.
My vision was obscured. And somehow, a cigar was now in my hand.
I was just about to light it and replenish the smoke I had used in the attack.
Slash!
This time, I felt my wrist being severed, dropped the cigar, and watched it fall to the floor.
'What is this?'
My vision had clearly been obscured.
No, even if he had been able to see, how had he blocked my attack and severed my wrist?
"Guh!"
It seemed as though I could see my severed wrist falling to the floor, a fountain of blood gushing from the cut end.
Yet as if mocking those sensations, my hand remained firmly attached.
I had felt my skin split and my muscles and bones being cut, yet my hand was still intact?
"Ahahaha. You even launched a counterattack. It seems I caught a much bigger fish than I expected."
The duke's voice reached my ears as I stood bewildered by a situation beyond anything I had imagined.
A massive shield that seemed entirely out of place in reality was blocking my attack around the duke.
Creeeeak.
"Oh, what a powerful ability. Your ability is smoke, was it? My apologies. I'm not generous enough to give a weapon to someone who has attacked me."
An absurd scene unfolded before my eyes.
I could feel my brain operating at full speed under the extreme flood of adrenaline.
The situation just now, and that massive shield that seemed utterly unreal.
Reality manipulation? No, that wasn't it. There was no way such a cheat-like ability could exist.
Besides, if it were reality manipulation, he could have simply killed me or immediately healed me when I felt my wrist being severed.
Yet even though my heart had burst and I had felt my wrist being severed, neither had actually happened in reality.
The information came together. Unlike my violently pounding heart, my calm brain eventually arrived at a single answer.
"A hallucination?"
Yes, if it was a hallucination, everything made sense.
The fact that he had penetrated the smoke defending my vital points,
the fact that I was still alive despite feeling my heart burst,
and finally, the fact that my wrist was perfectly fine despite feeling it being severed—all of it.
The only problem was that I didn't know what that shield blocking my attack actually was.
"Correct."
Perhaps he had heard me mutter. The duke gave a simple affirmation accompanied by a spine-chilling smile.
In the end, I experienced death caused by hallucinations exactly forty-four times.
Since I was only dying in hallucinations, it was surprisingly manageable.