books44 Chapter 229
Chapter 229
Oscar is a lunatic.
There is no room for argument against this statement.
It is an unshakable fact.
A face that smiles brightly every single day.
A sense of pure white innocence that is ever-present.
That unwavering directionality pointing squarely toward madness.
Madmen all make incomprehensible choices.
In Oscar’s case, it involves threatening me inside the Vatican or, out of nowhere, bringing up talk of the “another realm”.
The randomness of such actions is something a normal person cannot easily comprehend.
‘That’s why he’s called a madman.’
By that logic, I suppose I’m also a madman.
I can’t even remember the last time I made a proper, textbook decision.
Frankly, coming to the Vatican for a witch trial just to earn a [Title] was an insane decision in itself.
‘Of course, I wouldn’t have done something so reckless if I weren’t stuck in this situation.’
If you think about it, I am a madman shaped by my environment.
In order to navigate the cursed storyline of this damned game, I, too, have no choice but to embrace madness.
And so, I like madmen.@@@@
Madmen are fixated on a single purpose.
When they’re an enemy, it’s a clear weakness. But if our goals align, they can be unmatched allies.
Take Oscar, for instance, despite his obsessive nature.
If I can just find the right trigger to change his thinking, he may not become a loyal companion, but he could certainly be a useful asset.
Oscar possesses overwhelming abilities.
And I covet them.
He was born to be an exceptional piece on the chessboard.
...Even while being threatened for my life, I find myself thinking these thoughts about him.
‘I guess I must be insane.’
Well, there’s no avoiding it.
You have to be crazy to tackle the remaining scenarios.
After all, there’s no way to defeat the final boss, the Bloodstone Cult Leader, through normal means.
That’s why I willingly walk into the trap Oscar has laid with a radiant smile.
“A being from another world?”
At my question, Oscar smiled as though he were the happiest person alive.
His already handsome and delicate face became even more striking.
It seems he truly enjoys my playing along with him.
He opened his mouth, grinning brightly.
“Mano has spoken.”
“The Great Prophet Mano?”
“Yes. The great prophet, the grand priestess, and our beautiful Mother Saint Mano.”
The Great Prophet Mano.
A prophet who greatly influenced the Fantasy X Academy worldview.
A mother to all, who spoke of the world’s end and sacrificed herself to delay it.
Oscar’s expression softened, as if recalling a cherished memory of his own mother.
“Mano said that with each birth and death of a person, two meteors fall.”
Here, the birth and death refer to a 70-year lifespan, and the meteors symbolize beings from another world.
—Oscar added his own explanation.
The content, of course, was shocking.
It implied that the existence of “transmigrators” had been prophesied.
How many people, I wondered, are aware of this prophecy?
I subtly prodded Oscar for answers.
“It’s not written in the Mano’s Book of Prophecy.”
“Have you read it?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, impressive. But this prophecy is known only to a select few within the Deus Church.”
“A select few?”
Oscar held up two fingers.
“The Pope and the Inquisitor.”
I sighed with relief internally.
It’s better if the concept of “transmigrators” isn’t widely known.
Even I would view someone who claimed to be a transmigrator with suspicion.
Most people simply wouldn’t consider the idea because it’s outside their realm of thinking.
‘That’s a relief.’
Still, it’s unsettling. Even though I’ve kept it well-hidden, the anxiety lingers.
—Step.
I moved toward the mirror, each step heavy with contemplation.
Two choices lay before me.
Persuade Oscar, or defeat and subdue him.
‘Neither option is ideal.’
Persuading Oscar wasn’t entirely out of the question.
If I could figure out the purpose that drove his obsessive madness, and align myself with that purpose, I might win him over.
The problem was, I had no idea what that purpose could be.
It might even be something completely nonsensical.
As for subduing him...
‘It’s probably impossible.’
Oscar was one of the strongest combatants in the Holy City of Constantin, second to none but a select few.
If we were to clash purely in terms of physical strength, lasting even a few moves would be a miracle.
That might even be an overestimation of my abilities.
Thus, neither method was ideal—persuasion was uncertain, and combat seemed hopeless.
“Stand here, please.”
Oscar, his gaze filled with unwavering confidence, led me toward the mirror.
This man was a lunatic—unpredictable and impossible to analyze.
And so, I chose a different method.
Just before my reflection could appear in the mirror, I spoke.
“Oscar, something’s fallen over there. It looks like that doll from earlier.”
As I diverted his attention, I quickly enveloped my entire body in ether.
[Mirror: True Reflection]
A mirror that reveals the essence of its subject.
Combining the way Oscar used the mirror with the information I had, I realized something critical.
If my physical form—my skin, even slightly—was not directly reflected, the mirror would be unable to discern my true essence.
Therefore.
‘It’s possible with Ether.’
I shrouded my entire body in transparent ether.
Oscar picked up the cloth scrap I had supposedly dropped, tilting his head in confusion.
“I don’t recall when this fell, haha. The sanctum storage rooms should really be kept cleaner. Anyway, Ian, please stand in front of the mirror now.”
Though his lips carried a smile, his eyes bore into both me and the mirror with an unsettling intensity.
“Fine.”
I nodded and stepped in front of the mirror.
The reflection formed.
“...”
It showed the body I was inhabiting—Ian Blackangers, unchanged.
Oscar’s lips twitched slightly.
“What... what is this?”
He alternated glances between me and the mirror, his confusion palpable.
“It’s pointless to keep looking. This is who I am.”
“Aha... that can’t be...”
His voice wavered, a thin veil of bewilderment laced within it.
It was subtle, but from someone as composed as Oscar, it stood out.
It worked.
At this rate, all suspicions would be cleanly resolved.
Even Oscar would stop obsessing over me.
“This should suffice. I’m leaving.”
I began stepping away from the mirror when—
—Whoosh!
A fist came hurtling toward me, aimed precisely at my head.
It was an attack meant to kill.
If I didn’t block it, I would die for sure.
I expanded my ether shield to intercept the blow.
—Boom!
The room trembled violently.
—Rumble!
Dust and small debris poured down from the ceiling like water.
But the worst part of all—
“Pleased to meet you, Ian.”
Oscar stood there, one corner of his mouth curled into a sly grin, staring at me.
Beyond that, my reflection was visible.