Let the Whales Fight, This Shrimp is Leaving! - Chapter 77

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 77
I’d abandoned the eternally loud Beval in the office and fled to my room with work in hand.
And there, I laid out everything that had happened so far, everything I’d heard and seen.
One piece at a time, I arranged the events yet to come, untangling the knot of confusion in my head.
‘The crux of it is this.’
There is an Angel at the root of all this chaos.
That Angel helped the Demon, and the Demon inflicted terrible suffering on Deyan, yet Deyan’s extraordinary recovery was a power gifted by the Angel.
‘The Angel possessed the body of the Adorif Emperor.’
The Demon likely made a Contract with Joaquin Perez.
If I’d known that when the Demon’s order collapsed, the very constraint of making a Contract with only a single human would crumble alongside it, I would have suspected from the start.
‘Either way, the intention is clear. Focus on just that one thing.’
War.
The chaos spawned by war.
The Demon hungers for souls, and the Angel seeks to grasp Freedom itself through that very chaos.
‘What is Freedom, anyway?’
I found myself examining that definition anew, but I couldn’t explain it clearly.
If I can’t define it, then perhaps I should understand why she yearns for it—yet how could a mere human ever comprehend what an Angel desires so fiercely?
‘Sariel would know.’
But she wouldn’t tell me.
The moment I realized that Sariel’s manifestation before me was all part of a plan, I felt contempt for myself.
‘And there I was, acting presumptuous without even knowing it.’
How foolish Sariel must have found me.
Watching a wretched human who would drop dead at the slightest push, yet believing herself to be pulling their strings…
“Sigh.”
Fine, then. Laugh at me.
What else can I do? It’s only natural that a human appears contemptible.
I swept away idle thoughts and stared at the Map.
On the Map spread across my table, removed from the wall, sat small Chess Pieces.
Several Bishops on the Agavni United States.
One King in the imperial capital of the Adorif Empire.
On the Cordi Kingdom, I’d placed two Kings and two Knights each.
One King represented the aging sovereign now bedridden with illness, the other the Crown Prince; the remaining Knight signified the 2nd Prince and Joaquin.
Joaquin was a Knight because he had no Right of Royal Succession.
He had once committed infidelity while married, blinded by love, and that alone wasn’t enough—he’d even falsely accused his wife’s family and destroyed them entirely.
As he shoved his lonely wife into a corner and placed his mistress upon his lap, the King, unable to bear his madness any longer, had stripped away even his rights as a royal.
Shortly after that incident, the Crown Prince contracted the same illness as his father.
The 2nd Prince, next in succession, had such a gentle temperament that opinions within Cordi remained divided.
The only saving grace was that the King still lived.
That meant the Succession could be reassigned at any moment if necessary, and the 1st Prince was said to be steadily working on his recovery…
‘Wait.’
The hand hovering over the Map froze.
‘Succession Rights?’
It couldn’t be.
My heart seemed to have shifted; my throat throbbed violently.
The mistress Joaquin had loved died by the hands of his wife, maddened by vengeance.
She had embraced the mistress and thrown herself from the castle Wall.
Joaquin had watched it all, and his grief was profound.
Moved by pity at seeing his own blood grieve, the King had restored all his titles as a Prince—
And among those, naturally, was the right to the Succession, however meaningless it seemed.
I stood abruptly and looked down at the Map from above.
I swept away all unnecessary pieces and kept only what mattered.
“The legitimate Heir, the Crown Prince, is ill.”
I picked up the white King I’d placed in Cordi and let it fall to the floor.
“The 2nd Prince’s qualifications are disputed.”
I knocked over one white Knight.
“The King is too old—no one knows when he’ll pass.”
I flicked the remaining King aside with my index finger.
The white Piece tumbled helplessly, rolling across the Border of Plene.
Standing alone in the Capital of Cordi was a single white Knight.
“…This insane bastard.”
I understood Joaquin’s purpose.
What this wretched cur wanted, why he was attempting to start a war.
“Wages war just to secure one Right of Royal Succession?”
Joaquin Perez, who had already been abandoned by his supporters once, needed to restore his honor.
But he had no suitable opportunity.
To gather backing, he needed one massive event that could overturn public opinion.
A decisive blow that could cast aside the 2nd Prince with his gentle temperament.
If he could only convince the nobles that he alone was the sole Heir capable of strengthening the nation, he could gain their support and contend with the 2nd Prince equally for the throne.
…After all, the Crown Prince was going to die anyway.
‘Once he had their backing, he would have killed him with his own hands!’
The madman.
How much more greed could possibly satisfy him?
“Sigh.”
I pressed my throbbing temples with the heels of my palms.
The headache wouldn’t fade, so I clawed at my hair and crouched down where I stood.
It was the moment an answer arrived for a problem I’d been wrestling with all along.
‘The citizens living at the Border must be evacuated.’
A man already burning with desire to wage war had been given an immense power—a Demon.
He would pursue his aims by any means necessary.
“You must choose between lives and homes. You cannot save both.”
Deyan’s words had been right.
I had thought it reasonable then, certainly, but I’d still believed there must be another way.
I hadn’t thought it was the best option—yet it had been.
“So he wasn’t just wandering about, slaughtering indiscriminately.”
That the one who had always stood in the position of a butcher would offer such an opinion meant one thing.
‘It was true, then.’
Deyan did not enjoy war.
He understood the desolation it wrought.
Even as he dutifully carried out orders, he’d pondered better methods, striving to minimize suffering.
Without such effort, such an opinion could never have emerged so readily.
“Truly.”
He was certainly an irritating opponent.
So why did I keep finding reasons to apologize to him?
I covered my face with my palm and sighed heavily, again and again.
* * *
Deyan sat on the floor, watching the cat.
The kitten, which had grown considerably in the meantime, innocently ransacked the room as it eagerly chased a small ball.
The ball was a toy made from scraps of cloth by the maid Nancy.
Meow—
The creature, now proficient enough at cat sounds, struggled with all its might to free the ball wedged between the furniture.
Deyan stretched out his long arm and gently extracted the ball for it.
Pitter-patter-pounce.
The cat rolled the ball and bounded after it, then suddenly tumbled over.
“…Slaph.”
Deyan called the cat’s name awkwardly.
It was a name Idir had given arbitrarily, and somehow it felt like referring to himself, which embarrassed him.
“Come here.”
Though Deyan called, the cat merely perked up its ears and utterly ignored his command.
It didn’t even turn to look at him.
It simply sprang to its feet and focused entirely on rolling the ball and playing again.
His idle hand clenched and unclenched repeatedly, until finally he held it still and tight.
There was no sound in the quiet room but the cat’s cheerful play.
Having always lived amid the noise of war and the Demon’s whispers, Deyan did not dislike such quiet.
The quiet of the Grand Ducal Castle of Plene was particularly tender and warm.
When he sat like this, watching sunlight seep through the window, the silence felt as comforting as a blanket…
But today was different.
The stillness felt strange and uncomfortable.
“You seem composed. Is that because it’s not your problem?”
“Whose fault is that?”
Idir’s words, full of resentment, ached more sharply today.
He couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but it simply felt bitter.
Had he grown fond of her without noticing?
Had he deluded himself into thinking they’d grown closer?
Deyan gave serious thought to why he was feeling this way.
In ordinary times, he would never have reflected this deeply.
He’d always believed it easier to simply live as life came, do as he was told, and avoid great thought or worry.
Yet watching Idir’s eyes, brimming with vitality as she strives desperately to protect what she must, he comes to realize something.
That just as she is alive, so too is he still alive.
Then wasn’t it a human’s duty to struggle a little harder?
Deyan resolved to begin that struggle by seeking out the self he had long abandoned.
And naturally, the beginning was—
‘Why am I doing this much?’

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————