The Death Mage Who Doesn’t Want a Fourth Time Chapter 369: The former emperor whose slow life is threatened, and the self-proclaimed old man in th

Chapter 369: The former emperor whose slow life is threatened, and the self-proclaimed old man in the Farzon Duchy

During his reign, Marshukzarl, the former emperor of the Amid Empire, had dealt with nobles who had committed grave crimes and whose value was not worth overlooking those crimes. And from these nobles’ mouths, he had heard words like these countless times: “I cannot live on as a commoner! Your Majesty, please take pity on me! If that is my fate, then at least sentence me to death!”
In the majority of these situations, Marshukzarl had ignored them and stripped them of their court ranks and confiscated their assets, forcing them to become commoners.
He had done this because it was better received by the people. Even if the end result was the same, the people would perceive the emperor as cold-blooded if he were to wield his authority to sentence an entire noble family to death, but they would perceive him as merciful if he merely stripped the noble in question of his court rank and confiscated his assets.
Still, he had needed to give the death penalty to nobles who had committed particularly heinous crimes; otherwise, the people would contemptuously perceive him as ‘weak’ or ‘soft.’ He had needed to be aware of the boundary between the two decisions.
That was the only thing that had gone through his mind when making such decisions, so naturally, he had not given a single thought to whether the nobles in question would actually be able to live on after they lost their court rank and assets.
“But it is surprisingly manageable. Perhaps those that I thought would die like stray dogs in the streets are actually still surviving. So then, when they told me that they ‘cannot live on’ and that I should ‘sentence them to death,’ was it just an act? If that is the case, I fell for it completely,” Marshukzarl mused as he moistened his throat with tea that he had prepared himself.
What he currently lived in was a shabby cabin with three rooms. Its floor had been painted to prevent it from degrading, and he had made its inner walls out of mud for insulation; it was quite a full-fledged cabin.
He was sitting on a chair that he had placed on the cabin’s wooden deck, where he was enjoying a morning break.
There were various agricultural crops squirming in the fields near the cabin, and beyond those were an orchard and a chicken coop. A little further still, there was a space where he was keeping what had once been goats and pigs.
And all around the cabin were flowers whose swaying movements were completely unrelated to the wind, and there were several hives of what had once been honeybees.
“No, perhaps it is a little hasty to assume that they were able to make do as I have,” Marshukzarl said.
“That is completely and utterly correct,” said Vandalieu, whom Marshukzarl hadn’t realized was there. “I think the idea that you have somehow made things work for yourself through your own efforts is a mistaken assumption to begin with.”
“Ah, you’ve come to check how I’m doing, have you?” said Marshukzarl with a smile, gesturing for Vandalieu to take the seat opposite him. “It is indeed correct to say that it’s only because of you that I am able to live like this despite losing my assets and my position in society.”
After being driven from his throne, Marshukzarl had been imprisoned in a mansion far away from the imperial capital, and his captors had come up with a suitable reason to give the public – that he was in ill health and in need of recuperation.
The servants there had not been his vassals; they had been there to keep an eye on him and ensure that he had the necessities to live. The knights stationed there as security had been there to keep him from escaping. But other than the high likelihood of being disposed of one day through his meal or drink being poisoned, it had been a life without any inconveniences.
Schneider of the Storm of Tyranny had rescued him from that prison and handed him over to Vandalieu, and he was now living a modest but free life here.
But although Vandalieu had intended to keep Marshukzarl alive, he had no intention of taking care of him.
Vandalieu had left him various kinds of equipment, such as carpentry tools, as well as materials such as lumber and nails, then simply abandoned him.
To be more precise, he had checked on him every day to make sure he was still alive, and provided him with food and water as necessary, but that was it.
Marshukzarl had ended up with no choice but to build his own place to live in.
He had no thoughts of escaping, and he was absolutely certain that he had no chance of succeeding in doing so anyway. After all, he was currently inside one of Vandalieu’s Inner Worlds.
The sky was its ceiling, and the earth was its floor. For some reason, there was wind blowing, but it was unclear whether this was created by Vandalieu’s breathing or whether the Inner World had some kind of mechanism for circulating air.
There was generally no rain, and the weather was always sunny. But for some reason, there was day and night.
Marshukzarl’s life in this strange space had initially been considerably troublesome. Having led a lifestyle of sophistication and refinement, he had possessed almost no experience in DIY carpentry. He had a reasonable amount of knowledge when it came to things like urban planning, or large-scale flood control and public works. But he’d had no experience in actually hammering nails himself to build pillars or posts.
However, the environment inside the Inner World had been pleasant enough for him to live in even without building a cabin.
The food was more modest than what he had eaten in his prior lifestyle, but he had been provided with enough to eat for every meal. The flavor hadn’t been bad, either. The climate inside the Inner World was maintained at a comfortable level for living, with no rain. He could have slept outdoors all he wanted.
After the first cabin he had attempted to build collapsed in the blink of an eye, such thoughts had indeed passed through Marshukzarl’s mind – perhaps he could accept a lazy lifestyle of sleeping outdoors.
But then he had remembered the ambitious and rebellious spirit that he had possessed before he became emperor, the spirit that had seen him rise to the throne despite being a half-Elf and far down in the line of succession.
It was precisely because he had nothing that he had possessed pride, and it was because he was struggling just to live that he’d had no choice but to strive towards his ambitions until the day he was poisoned or his head was parted from his neck.
Marshukzarl’s spiritless, or perhaps despair-filled demeanor had evaporated, and he had begun acting with renewed vigor.
He had used magic to build a cabin, put together all the furniture he would need, and requested various things of Vandalieu when he came to check in on him – crops to harvest for both practical reasons and for peace of mind, cloth to make clothes for himself, paint to use on the outer walls of the cabin… Requests that would be considered impudent, given that they were being made to someone who only cared that he was still alive and did not value him any more than that.
Marshukzarl had expected that Vandalieu would refuse these requests, but most of them had ended up being granted… though Vandalieu had shown signs of reluctance, such as being completely silent for a while after Marshukzarl made the requests.
To Vandalieu, Marshukzarl was only barely worth keeping alive, and more importantly, he was someone that he disliked. He held no deep grudges or hatred for him, but he was someone that he wished to avoid conversing deeply with due to the differences in their values.
However, Marshukzarl was still worth keeping alive, so Vandalieu would be troubled if he were to die. That was why the Vandalieu of this Inner World had no choice but to check in on him every day and provide things such as food.
And the Vandalieu of this Inner World shared the real Vandalieu’s personality, memories, and senses. Thus, Marshukzarl’s existence was causing stress to Vandalieu himself.
That was what Marshukzarl was to Vandalieu, and he was requesting to grow his own food. If that went well, Vandalieu would no longer have to provide him with food every day.
That was why Vandalieu had granted Marshukzarl’s requests and provided cloth, sewing tools, agricultural equipment, crop seedlings, and paint. Marshukzarl’s requests had escalated, and Vandalieu had provided him with livestock such as chickens, goats, pigs, as well as fruit trees.
And ever since Marshukzarl prepared himself an environment where he could live a simple but plentiful lifestyle, Vandalieu had mostly left him on his own other than checking on him once a day.
“Unlike me, the nobles who lost their assets and court ranks did not have an emperor of an enemy nation who is open to deals so close by,” Marshukzarl said. “So, what would you like to know today? Scandals regarding prominent nobles? Where the secret passages inside their mansions are? Or the locations around which the activities of the Fifteen Evil-breaking Swords are centered, perhaps? No, is it information regarding the fortresses of the Mirg shield-nation that you’re after?”
The reason Vandalieu had checked in on Marshukzarl once a day was because Marshukzarl freely gave away the secrets of the nation that he had once ruled. In exchange, Marshukzarl asked for nothing but extravagant meals, silk cloth, porcelain tea sets with tea leaves, and other nonsensical items.
Marshukzarl had offered these trades because he knew that national secrets of this caliber were of almost no value to Vandalieu and his companions.
Based on the information that Marshukzarl had seen before he was removed from his throne, he could surmise that the power Vandalieu and his companions possessed made the presence or absence of any leaked secrets irrelevant. If they conducted a frontal assault, they could clear the area they were attacking by wiping it completely including any buildings, or they could simply make the buildings themselves collapse by turning the materials they were made of into Golems. Unless the buildings were made of Orichalcum, they were worthless.
And if they could gather information from the dead, they were capable of learning most useful information regarding any scandal.
At the very least, this was how Marshukzarl saw things.
And as for the locations where the Fifteen Evil-breaking Swords were based, it was likely that they had already relocated to new locations that Marshukzarl was unaware of the moment he was kidnapped.
That was why Marshukzarl had no hesitation in selling this information for cheap.
“… Marshukzarl, I have never met a person more worthy of being known as a sly old man than you,” said Vandalieu, aware of what Marshukzarl was up to.
Marshukzarl’s smile only grew wider. “Thank you. But if that’s true, then the nobles of Orbaume have much room to improve… and as for you, you worry too much.”
The information given by Marshukzarl was of such little importance that it didn’t matter whether Vandalieu and his companions had it or not. And yet, Vandalieu was providing goods in exchange for that information.
And that was because Vandalieu kept wanting to hear this information ‘just in case,’ and because he felt it would be awkward to not provide goods worth more than that information – though another reason was because the goods he did provide weren’t a big deal to him.
“That’s just my nature,” Vandalieu said. “And it isn’t like I am losing anything, so I don’t mind.”
“Didn’t you wish to spend as little time speaking with me as possible?” Marshukzarl questioned.
“Marshukzarl, the ‘me’ you see before you is the me of this Inner World. This me can’t leave here and go outside. Therefore, this me has nothing to do other than monitor you.”
“In other words, you’ve grown accustomed to dealing with me to the point that you can convince yourself to do so for such a reason.”
“Yes. This me is just one of countless.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand that idea no matter how many times I hear it. After all, I’ve never heard of a single soul controlling multiple bodies and minds. And I don’t think that this is due to a lack of knowledge on my part.”
Marshukzarl was a highly sophisticated individual who had received some of the most advanced education available in the world of Lambda. However, he was not from a scientifically advanced civilization.
If he was knowledgeable in the science that had developed on modern-day Earth, he might have understood that Demon King Familiars and the Vandalieus of the Inner Worlds were like client devices connected to Vandalieu’s main body, which acted as a server.
“A single soul?” Vandalieu repeated, and then he paused for a moment. “… Yes, I have one soul. Although I can divide it, there is no changing that there is only one group of entities that is known as ‘my soul.’”
Because Vandalieu did have scientific knowledge, he considered his current state of existence to be similar to the client device and server analogy. And now, he suddenly realized that with that being the case, any attempts to create more main bodies and such were doomed to fail.
If I define a main body as a physical body with much of my soul in it, and a split entity as a physical body with not much of my soul in it, then creating more main bodies has always been impossible to begin with. I can freely tear up my soul and return it to its original state. But its total quantity doesn’t change. Without increasing the quantity of my soul, I can’t create more main bodies, Vandalieu thought.
If Vandalieu’s soul’s total quantity were 100… No, let’s say 10,000 units. Demon King Familiars and familiar spirits sent to his companions when they used the ‘Familiar Spirit Demonfall’ Skill generally contained a quantity amounting to less than 1 unit. Banda, who was bound to Meh-kun – Amemiya Mei – accounted for just 10 units.
With that being the case, one might think that he could create any number of main bodies by dividing this soul, but even by creating a split entity and giving it 100, 1,000, or close to 10,000 units of his soul did not cause it to become a main body. It was still just a split entity with more of his soul than others.
So then, could he create two main bodies by dividing his soul evenly between them? Vandalieu had thought of this but quickly decided against even attempting it.
He didn’t see any problems with doing so, but he could sense that it would result in his main body with 5,000 units of his soul and a split entity with 5,000 units of his soul, rather than two main bodies with 5,000 units each.
In other words, I can’t create more main bodies. But I want the benefits of having multiple main bodies in existence. So then, should I aim for a state that is no different from having multiple main bodies, without actually creating any more main bodies? Hmm…
The two components of this objective seemed to contradict each other, making it appear impossible to achieve.
But in combination with the realization he had come to previously – the realization that the ability to create split entities was not the condition that made the main body the main body – something nagged at him. He felt like with a little further push, it would take form as an idea.
Maybe I’ve been considering the ‘main body’ as having too much special importance. Maybe I should consider the ‘main body’ as just another part of myself, like my limbs or my organs. It was worth imprisoning Marshukzarl in this Inner World just to be able to come to this realization, but… I don’t really want to tell him that, so let’s not, Vandalieu decided.
“Leaving that aside, did you have a request in mind?” he asked Marshukzarl.
“Yes, about that. I feel as if the crops have been a little too lively lately… Can nothing be done about that?” Marshukzarl said, casting his gaze towards animated, rapidly-growing crops.
Naturally, these were no ordinary vegetables. They were all Monster Plants.
“They have been like this ever since that tree that is taller than a castle appeared close enough to be visible from here,” Marshukzarl said.
As he suspected, his crops had become Monster Plants due to Vandalieu placing the tree form of Eisen, who had become an Iggdrasil Sapling after her Rank increase, inside this Inner World to experiment with her ‘Earth Fertilization’ Skill.
There was nobody in this Inner World other than Marshukzarl, and if anything happened, it would be simple to evacuate him and relocate him to another Inner World, so Eisen had tested her maximum output without holding back. As a result, Marshukzarl’s crops had all ripened at once and then transformed into Monster Plants.
“The fruit tree saplings I’d planted have become fully grown trees that now move about on their own, and my chickens have become Giga Birds… I’m afraid I am not knowledgeable enough to know their proper names, but my goats, pigs, and honeybees also seem to have turned into monsters,” Marshukzarl said. “Thanks to that, it takes much more effort to collect eggs and milk from my livestock. I haven’t attempted to do any butchering or gather any honey yet, but I’m sure I will need to take much more care in doing so than before.”
But Vandalieu had no intention of explaining the experiment that he was carrying out. “Have you ever felt endangered?” he asked.
“No, I suppose it hasn’t quite reached that point,” Marshukzarl replied. “The Monster Plants walk about, but they do not resist being harvested. The Giga birds and livestock have become a little more aggressive, but… though my skills have dulled, I was born to the imperial family. I have not faced any major problems yet.”
The Amid Empire was not a tribe of barbarians where the strongest individual held the right to rule. However, as they held valued positions in society, nobles and those of the imperial family were expected to reach a base minimum level in combat-related skills and magic.
The higher one’s position was in society, the higher that ‘minimum level’ standard was. And because Marshukzarl had been born as a half-Elf and possessed many enemies even before his rise to the throne, he had trained himself beyond that minimum level.
With that said, he was nowhere being worth comparing to someone like Schneider of the Storm of Tyranny, and he was certainly not capable of standing on the frontline of the war against the Orbaume Kingdom, mowing down enemy soldiers while commanding his army. At his peak, his ability might have been equivalent to that of a C-class adventurer. Now, with much time having passed since the last time he engaged in training that resembled real combat, his senses had dulled considerably – though his skill with magic had returned somewhat due to having used it here for building and farming tasks.
His abilities were limited, but not to the point that he felt endangered by Rank 2 Monster Plants and Giga Birds.
“Then I’ll give you some new equipment that you can use for harvesting and butchering,” said Vandalieu, deciding that providing Marshukzarl with things like a sharp knife and protective equipment to cover his face and arms would suffice.
“I am much obliged,” said Marshukzarl. “Those who come here are all beings that no weapon would stand any chance against unless it were made of Orichalcum, so please give me a truly sharp knife without any unnecessary suspicion that I might plot to do something unsavory with it.”
“I know,” said Vandalieu. “And there might be something else occurring sometime in the near future, so please be prepared and cautious.”
Isla had become a Lifeless Queen, and Vandalieu was planning to test her new Skill in this Inner World as well.
“Life here is never dull, and rather enjoyable… and it seems that the Empire is still intact,” said Marshukzarl.
The very fact that Vandalieu was keeping him in this Inner World and monitoring him regularly made him certain that the Amid Empire had not been destroyed.
If the Amid Empire had been destroyed, Vandalieu would have let Marshukzarl out of his body long ago.
From Marshukzarl’s perspective, he needed to appeal his own abilities to Vandalieu sufficiently before then in order to survive.
He had gathered that even if Vandalieu didn’t like him, even if their values weren’t aligned, he would not kill him for those reasons alone.
Given all that had happened thus far, it was difficult to imagine that Marshukzarl would yield to Vandalieu. To begin with, it was likely that Vandalieu would somehow see through any attempt to act obedient.
With that being the case, he needed to make Vandalieu believe that he could be of use despite being unlikeable.
If all goes well, I should be able to get involved with the ruling of the Amid Empire once it is under his control… as long as the entirety of the populace hasn’t been turned into Undead. It is unlikely that Vandalieu intends to do such a thing, but I can only pray that Eileek… or Alda, rather, doesn’t incite the people too much, Marshukzarl thought.
Meanwhile, in the southern region of the Orbaume Kingdom, people were gathering one after another in the Farzon Duchy that bordered the sea.
These were the people who had received Divine Messages from the gods early on and promptly obeyed them – potential heroes and their companions; the leaders, high priests, and priests of Churches of Alda and Churches of gods belonging to Alda’s forces; and those who belonged to groups of elite forces such as the Seven Mountain Generals of the Jahan Duchy but had chosen their gods over their nation.
These individuals represented a considerable total military strength.
In a certain bar, an old man was nursing his mug.
“Things are getting serious lately,” he muttered, with tension in his voice. “Folk who you can tell are no ordinary travelers at a single glance are coming in one after another. Has some huge Dungeon been found or somethin’?”
“You say that, but I haven’t seen your face around here before either,” said a man whose clothes resembled a cleric’s, despite not having been spoken to.
“I came from the village for work,” retorted the old man. “In place of my son, who’s bedridden, you see. And you, you’re a high and mighty cleric, aren’t you? You sure you’re allowed to be drinkin’ in the middle of the day in a place like this?”
“Hah!” the other man scoffed. “Allowed? I’m no cleric anymore; I’ve been excommunicated!”
“Being excommunicated from a Church ain’t somethin’ you see every day. What’d you do, youngster?” the old man asked.
“I paid for some prostitutes,” the former cleric replied. “Only a few times, mind you. Excommunicated, for that… I know there are other priests and high priests around now, the ones who came from other duchies, but that’s just too much, isn’t it?!”
“That’s terrible,” the old man said sympathetically. “Alda-sama doesn’t even instruct his worshipers to never visit prostitutes.”
The Church of Alda did indeed forbid fornication… sexual relations outside of romantic relationships. But humans created loopholes for everything.
Visits to prostitutes were romantic relationships that lasted a single night. The money exchanged was a gift from the man. Whom one was romantically involved with, what they gave as presents, and the reasons for parting with their romantic partners was that person’s business and nobody else’s. Thus, this meant that such relations did not go against the Church’s teachings.
In places such as the Amid Empire or the Jahan Duchy, where the Church’s teachings were expected to be followed more strictly, clients would purchase bouquets from a middleman to gift the prostitutes, and the prostitutes would receive the money from those middlemen.
“Yes, exactly! And this is the headquarters of Alda’s peaceful faction! What’s wrong with financially supporting Beast-kin women like Rabi-chan!” the young former cleric rambled, even naming one of the prostitutes.
The old man gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, but… was this the headquarters?”
The ideology of Alda’s peaceful faction was one that Alda’s worshipers in the Orbaume Kingdom had started advocating for across the long years of repeated war against the Amid Empire. Thus, there were no clear records of where the ideology had originated.
Therefore, there wasn’t supposed to be a location that served as the headquarters for the faction.
“Hmm, we’ve always supported Heinz-sama and the others of the Five-colored Blades, and we took Selen-sama into our care, so it’s not an exaggeration to call it the headquarters… no, you could even call it a sacred place, couldn’t you?!” the former cleric said.
“Is that so? Heinz-sama and Selen-sama, huh. I never could tell, seeing as I live out in my village, but the world really has changed,” the old man mused.
Heinz and the rest of the Five-colored Blades were treated more clearly as heroes here than in other duchies, partially due to the fact that the duke had invested much to support them.
Alda had used his divine authority to create a Dungeon for Heinz and his companions, and Heinz had successfully awakened the heroic god Bellwood. It was also a well-known fact that Heinz and his companions had exterminated a tribe of Majin and Merfolk who had lurked in the duchy for years, possessing a fragment of the Demon King and worshiping an evil god.
“But from what I heard the other day, the Five-colored Blades have gone to the Amid Empire, haven’t they?” the old man said.
Although it wasn’t publicly known yet, there was trustworthy information that the Five-colored Blades had been seen in the Amid Empire… at the Great Church of Alda, no less.
And people like this old man had begun spreading the news that Heinz had crossed over to an enemy nation.
“What! Are you serious, old man?!” the young former cleric exclaimed. “E-even… Even if that’s true, I’m sure he’s gone to, you know, preach the teachings of Alda’s peaceful faction to the Amid Empire! There’s no mistaking it! I mean, no matter what anyone says, the heroic god Bellwood and even Alda himself have accepted the peaceful faction!”
But there was no concrete evidence that Bellwood and Alda supported the beliefs of Alda’s peaceful faction. The people around Heinz and his companions simply assumed that this was the case because Bellwood and Alda were supporting Heinz.
But there were far more people than just this young former cleric who was drinking in front of an old man who had made this assumption. Duke Farzon was probably one of them, so even Bellwood’s own intentions were likely irrelevant.
“You’re right about that. But it doesn’t make much sense that he’s chosen to go back to his old home rather than the Farzon Duchy that has supported him for all these years, does it? The way I see it, I personally reckon he should’ve at least come to say goodbye to the duke,” said the old man.
“Well, you might be right about that,” the former cleric agreed.
The old man shared some drinks, along with some more words that dealt considerable damage to the reputation of Heinz and his companions, with the former cleric before leaving the bar.
And then, moving unnaturally swiftly for someone with such white hair and such plentiful, deep wrinkles, he strode down a back alleyway and knocked on the door of a certain building.
“Password?” a voice said on the other side.
“… Yeah, yeah, it’s ‘self-proclaimed old man,’” the old man replied, reluctantly reciting the password which he very much disliked.
“Quick, get in!”
The door opened, and the old man was dragged inside by a beautiful Elf woman and a large man with dark skin and a mohawk.
Inside the room was a slender, older gentleman and a beautiful Dwarf woman, both on full alert and ready for combat. The Elf woman and the man with the mohawk quickly cast spells to search the area around them.
“It can’t be… You haven’t been tailed?!” exclaimed the man with the mohawk.
“Nobody saw through Schneider’s old man disguise?!” said the Dwarf woman in shock.
“It was noticed without fail every time he tried it in the Amid Empire… You have improved,” remarked the older gentleman.
“Really? Maybe the people in this city just have terrible eyes?” said the Elf woman doubtfully.
“You guys, how about taking a leaf out of Zod’s book and just praising me for my improved disguise technique?” said the old man… Schneider, as he made large, twisting movements.
His body made creaking and cracking sounds in time with his rhythmic movements, and –
“HAAH!” he shouted, pumping up every muscle in his body.
In a single instant, his 170cm-tall body swelled up to a height of 190cm, and his physique that was visibly thin even through his clothes transformed into one with well-developed muscles that threatened to tear his clothes apart.
Finally, he puffed out his cheeks to return his face back to normal.
“Now then, let’s consolidate the information that we’ve gathered, shall we?” he said, having regained his wild, handsome looks without a single wrinkle to be seen.
And so, the ‘Thunderclap’ Schneider and his companions began their information exchange session.