Otherworld TRPG Game Master

221 – The Blind Knight and the Mysterious Mage, and the Mimas -7

Sicel Urensto happened to meet the old man Alonso.

The old man still stood tall, his eyes shining with clarity. The childlike innocence in his gaze made him look at least twenty years younger.

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

“Knight Sir.”

This old man was the opponent Sicel Urensto had faced in the tournament, and he had declared his surrender because he was not pleased with Sicel’s answer.

Sicel shrank back slightly.

She still did not know the reason why Alonso had surrendered. However, she remembered the old man’s disappointed and disheartened gaze, which made her feel a bit intimidated.

The old man looked at her with his wrinkled, sunken eyes, and with the wisdom of someone who had lived long, he vaguely sensed the change in the lady knight.

“Your gaze has changed quite a bit. Has something good happened?”

“⋯⋯Yes, perhaps.”

“Do you need to add ‘perhaps’ when distinguishing good things?”

“It’s complicated because there are bad things mixed in.”

Starting to sing with Karen was a good thing, but still, that outfit seemed like a bad thing. She never imagined that her less-than-ideal figure would draw so much attention.

Sicel recalled the stage from the previous night, feeling a mix of embarrassment, joy, and longing in turn. Then, she felt a strange courage. The courage to face disappointment. She asked the old man something she had been curious about.

“⋯⋯Elder, you told me I was an ‘already defeated opponent.’ What does that mean?”

“I will ask first. What do you think a tournament, a duel is?”

“It’s an assignment. A homework to solve.”

“Then the opponent in front of you was merely an obstacle.”

The old man Alonso shook his head. It was a denial.

“The moment you regard the sacred duel as a mere task, there is no honor or glory to be found there. Not even respect.”

Why is battle called the conversation of iron?

For those standing in the tournament, each has their own desire. They must have had the resolve to train themselves through blood and sweat and to challenge the monumental task of selecting a warrior.

The mercenary named Kargan, who was defeated in a single blow, must have stood there, tirelessly honing his skills, harboring his own earnest wishes.

If one were to crush that without any respect, what could be more fleeting? The old man Alonso said this.

“How can one be a knight without chivalry?”

“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”

“In the next match, pay attention to your opponent. You will surely gain much from it. Perhaps… you might even come to see it as a game rather than a task. You will hear my answer then.”

The old man spoke only this and glanced at Sisell Yurenshto.

On the street where countless people passed by, she stood there, dazed.

She recalled the wishes of those close to her. Karen aimed to rise to the highest rounds and promote the troupe she intended to establish.

She felt how earnest her wish was. Wandering the streets, singing, practicing, and simultaneously honing herself. Sisell knew well what color that dream shone with.

But if some powerful and indifferent knight were to abruptly crush her without giving her a chance to utter a word. Especially if that knight had… no particular reason to win against her.

If all her earnest efforts were belittled by someone.

– With this, I cannot become a splendid knight suitable for Yurenshto. Anyone could do this; I must try harder.

That would be incredibly sad.

——–

Sisell was very sad.

“Give me a V! Look this way, please!”

“Take me, Bunny Princess!! Kyaaah!!”

“Ah, ahaha… V, V…”

She raised her finger awkwardly, her face contorted in a pout.

Even that elicited a raucous cheer from the audience. Her face felt like it was about to burst from the heat. It would have been a disaster without the mask. How did it come to this?

It had been about four days performing while hiding her identity in a bunny girl costume and mask. Sisell absorbed Karen’s singing techniques like a sponge, and now she could sing even difficult songs quite well.

There were occasional mistakes, but Karen often reassured her that it was okay. Up to this point, everything was fine. Singing was enjoyable, and on days when she received encore requests, she felt elated all day long.

However, this was more than she had expected.

“Si-sisell, we’ve become too popular…?!”

“What should we do…?”

Yes, the problem was that they had become too popular.

Was it the choice of a “bunny girl,” reflecting the mad wizard’s rather personal taste, that summoned this wind, or was it that the charm of Cissel’s stage was stronger than expected?

The mask-performance hall, once a place known only to a select few, was now nearly full.

It had gained fame. A graceful woman singing under the name of Rabbit Princess in the Trumpet Hall was said to sing so incredibly well, and her presence was a delight to the eyes!

It was enough to catch the attention of Pingvalez, who had come after hearing the rumors.

This was not the fame Cissel had desired. Nor was it what Mima had hoped for.

Caren and Cissel escaped from the thronging stage and entered a quiet, cramped waiting room to talk privately.

“…But the bunny girl effect is amazing, isn’t it? So many people have seen it, and yet no one has figured it out?!”

“Who would ever think that someone like the deputy commander of a knight order would dress like this and sing…?!”

“Ouch, ouch.”

Cissel puffed her cheeks slightly and glared at Caren. Then she playfully pressed down on Caren’s head, who was grinning widely. Sometimes, Caren could be quite annoying.

Caren stuck out her tongue and said, “Still… it’s fun, right?”

“…….”

From noble mtl dot come

“Once the tournament is over, Cissel will return to her place, but… if you ever have a vacation or some free time, come visit! By then, I’ll have formed a proper team!”

But time.

“…Yes. I will definitely do that.”

The answer came out before the thought could fully form in her mind. And, suddenly, Cissel realized that the switch of death lay quietly in her grasp.

If she doesn’t use it, ‘Cissel’ won’t die.

But if she doesn’t use it, Cissel Yurensto will die.

Cissel hesitated in silence for a while, fiddling with the bunny headband, before speaking to Caren.

“Um, Caren.”

“Yeah?”

“…I have a dilemma. If you have some time, could you listen to my story—”

Inside Caren, Mima silently cheered. It worked. Thanks to Mima’s intricate charm work, Cissel had opened her heart to Caren.

A jolt.

“Ah.”

At that moment, Caren flinched. It was a loud enough sound to be startling.

“…Caren?”

——–

I quickly manipulated Caren to cover it up.

“No, it’s nothing! I just felt a chill down my spine for a moment, so don’t worry about it!”

“Well, isn’t that outfit a bit too revealing? This bunny girl costume…”

“That’s what makes it cute!”

Cicel grumbled with her expression, but I knew deep down she liked the bunny girl outfit. I had seen her meticulously adjusting her clothes while looking in the mirror.

I thought that if I played my cards right, I could get her to wear something even more revealing, but I held back, fearing that Yuna’s punch would hurt three times more.

“Um, I just remembered something urgent today… I’m sorry, Cicel! Can we talk about it later?”

“Oh, yes. It’s fine…”

It couldn’t really be fine. She mustered up her courage to request a consultation. I wanted to accept it so badly. It was a precious opportunity!

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow! I’m really sorry, Cicel. I’ll tell you what happened once it’s resolved!”

“……..”

But something more urgent came up. I left my spot and switched to another avatar in Karen.

Just a moment ago, I detected an anomaly.

Should I say it was for the purpose of creating an alibi? Just in case I ran into Cicel outside or if there were any doubts about this stage itself.

The NPCs that appear are implemented as physical holograms, placed along the streets where people’s gazes can reach. Even now, the old man with the pick is wandering the alley, and the master of foot magic is pretending to be cool while sipping on a strong drink at the tavern.

And if it seems like I might run into Cicel, I would switch places with one of them.

As the ‘Courage’ tournament has progressed to the round of 32, there are about twenty-three NPCs remaining without being dismissed.

Not all of them are participating in the tournament.

Some have been eliminated but linger in the city out of lingering attachment, while others remain for potential troubles outside the tournament—there are quite a few left for such events.

And just now.

“……..”

I lost connection with one of them. In a very physical manner.

Was it a simple accident? If someone had gotten into a dispute, I would have set up a device to send me a warning signal. There were no traces of contact in the logs either. This means… they were dismantled in an instant.

To confirm the exact situation, I needed to retrieve the black box. I pulled up my hood and headed to the last point of disconnection.

——–

People have weaknesses in the parts they want to hide. Everyone does. It’s the same with our father. He wants to protect his vulnerable parts and make them strong.

Even if no one in the world knows about those vulnerabilities, even if it’s something that would go untouched if left alone, the anxiety of possibly being discovered leads to layers of armor being added on.

The ‘Mad Wizard’ must be the same. He too must have some weakness in a certain sense, and he would have put in a lot of effort to hide it.

But would that put me in a difficult position?

No. For the worker who has taken the first step, it’s actually a good thing. It makes it very clear where to aim.

In the holy city of Trumpet Hall, many people have come in due to the tournament, and they are still steadily entering. Among them are those with uncertain identities or those who are quite malicious.

However, looking at it now, it seems that there were a few ghosts mixed in as well.

The man passing beneath me right now is called Abel. He claims to have come from a far-off southern region, but that’s not true at all. It’s not even certain if he ever existed in the first place.

Not a single person knows of his whereabouts. It seems like he just popped up in the Trumpet Hall out of nowhere.

Could it be that he lived in a very deep and secluded village, which is why no one knew him? One could think that, but…

There are more suspicious points.

He has no digestive function.

Yes, he can eat and drink. But when no one is watching, he goes to a secluded place and vomits it all out. Upon examining the contents, it was clear that nothing had been digested. It was as if it had been taken straight from a bottle.

Even more astonishing is that there are others just like Abel. They have no past before entering the Trumpet Hall and cannot digest their meals.

I tried to capture him and interrogate him. I pressed closely behind him and stabbed a dagger between his ribs.

“────.”

“Huh…?”

But the sensation of it going in felt strange. Even when I twisted and shook the dagger, he didn’t scream. Even when I tried to create three hearts, it didn’t take. Only after I disassembled him piece by piece did I finally understand.

“It’s an illusion magic. This.”

My father’s friend said. Another branch of the illusionist school, erased by the current tower master, was to summon beings from illusions into reality.

In that way… perhaps they summoned beings that mimic human forms. I can’t know for sure.

I don’t know the intent. But look, it must have been a difficult task to unleash such creatures into the city. Yet, the fact that they made such an investment is significant.

It doesn’t matter why they are doing this. Whether the target, the “Mad Wizard,” is plotting to overthrow the city, trying to manipulate the tournament to their liking, or aiming to create their own puppets as heroes.

You don’t have to think about that. Just do the opposite. Keep doing things that they would hate to endure. If you inflict wounds, they will strive to heal them, and if you repeat this process, eventually, a gap will reveal itself.

Let’s kill all the “fake humans.”

Kill them, and display their deaths for all to see, so that many people will know. To the extent that their identities cannot be recycled.

——–

A crowd of citizens and the sound of murmuring.

At this point, I realized that something gigantic had gone wrong. The point where the citizens had gathered in a circle was exactly where the NPC had lost contact.

I pushed through the crowd using illusion magic and approached the center. And there…

“…What the hell.”

The NPC was cut into pieces, bleeding and dead.

This doesn’t make sense. Since it was a being created by hologram magic, it could exert a certain amount of physical force, but it was ultimately just an empty shell made of magical power.

It can’t bleed for real, and if it’s cut apart, it would turn into magical energy and disperse.

So what is this? I cast a recognition-inhibiting spell and lowered my posture to touch the flowing blood and flesh. This is real. It wasn’t an illusion.

Could it be an unbelievable coincidence? No way.

Fortunately, the black box remained nearby. It absorbed information and reconstructed it in my mind. An NPC walks down an alley. Then, in an instant, someone approaches from behind and stabs it in the back, shattering it.

The broken hologram scattered like shards of magical power. The hooded figure seemed to hesitate for a moment before leaving the scene── and shortly after.

They dragged in someone who looked exactly like the NPC and killed them.

It’s not just a lookalike. They look exactly the same.

I don’t know how. But I understand this b*stard’s intent. They’re trying to socially kill my hologram. If this death becomes public knowledge, I won’t be able to use that NPC again.

⋯⋯⋯⋯.

In the midst of the scenario, just before the round of 16⋯⋯ a series of murders began to occur targeting tournament participants in the holy city of Trumpet Hall.