novelzi Chapter 101: Family (2)
Chapter 101: Family (2)
Chapter 101: Family (2)
Yeriel opened her eyes to see white snow falling from the dark sky.
Fluff... fluff...
The snow gently touched her face as it fell. Yeriel closed her eyes, wiped away the dampness, and then opened them again. Everywhere she looked, there was snow. The sky, the earth, and the horizon were entirely blanketed in white.
Slowly, Yeriel stood and gazed into the distance, where a curtain of snow mist shifted. Amidst the white expanse stood an old mansion, its roof and window frames buried beneath the snow. Yeriel blinked, taking in the snowy landscape.
“Where have the vassals gone?” Yeriel wondered, her first thought upon realizing that the four vassals who had accompanied her were nowhere to be seen.
After a moment of hesitation, Yeriel approached the only place not covered in snow.
Crunch, crunch...
She stepped through the snow, leaving her footprints in the untouched whiteness.
“... Everyone! Are you there?!” Yeriel called out as she reached the mansion’s door. No answer came, and the door remained locked when she tried the handle.
“Oh.”
Realizing something, Yeriel took the key from her pocket. She inserted it into the locked door without searching for a keyhole. The key slid in effortlessly, and with a twist, the door creaked open.
“Is anybody... here?”
The interior was ordinary, exactly what one would expect from an old mansion.
Crackle— crackle—
The sound of a crackling fire in the fireplace and the aroma of roasted tea greeted her. Drawn by the warmth, Yeriel walked toward it. She stopped abruptly as she entered the living room. Near the fireplace, a familiar figure sat in a rocking chair.
“Deculein?”
The man turned to look at her, holding a teacup in one hand and resting the other on the armrest of the chair, and said, “Yeriel.”
Yeriel tensed. If Deculein was here, it could only mean one thing.
“... Did you already know?”
He shook his head. Though her question had been serious, his response felt strangely unsettling.
“I am not Deculein.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am your diary.”
“... What?” Yeriel muttered, frowning at the absurd claim.
The figure resembling Deculein explained, “I am a guide created to welcome those who enter this place. I am an artificial intelligence formed by magic, and I am the embodiment of the artifact.”
He tapped the teacup on the table.
“That is what I am.”
“... Oh?” Yeriel murmured, momentarily stunned, but it made sense.
After all, this was an artifact created by her father, Decalane. The artifacts he crafted, though limited to the realm of Artifacts, were on a level that surpassed the understanding of ordinary mages.
“Where are my vassals?”
“Those without a key have been temporarily recorded by the security system.”
“... Recorded?”
He handed her four notebooks. Yeriel approached cautiously and took them.
“This is...”
The cover of one plain notebook was titled Roel, the name of her longtime butler.
“You will understand once you read it.”
Yeriel turned to the first page.
Scratch— scratch—
Sentences were being recorded on the pages in real-time.
I don’t know where this place is. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in this world... though I’m not sure if it’s truly a world.
As Yeriel read the page, shock spread across her face.
... Above all, my concern is for Lady Yeriel. If this space exists within the diary, my priority must be to find her.
These were the thoughts of Butler Roel.
“What is this...?” Yeriel asked, looking up.
The artifact in Deculein's form calmly sipped from the teacup and said, “They were recorded as memories by the security system. You, however, are protected from it because you hold the key.”
“So these sentences... represent their thoughts?”
“Correct. Their entire essence has been transcribed into records,” the artifact said.
Yeriel remained silent.
“You seem surprised.”
Yeriel opened another notebook, this one had belonged to her escort knight, David.
I must act quickly. I need to prepare and press on to be of service to Lady Yeriel...
The other notebooks belonged to Head Maid Rachel and Mage Regillon... Their thoughts unfolded in simple words. Yeriel placed a hand on the back of her neck. It felt stiff, and her head throbbed with pain.
The artifact from the diary spoke, “When magic reaches a certain level, it becomes true magic. It surpasses simple spells like Telekinesis or Fireball. I am something that has neared the realm of absolute truth.”
“Is there a way to return things to normal?”
“There is. They are not dead, so there is no need to worry. They have merely been caught by the security system.”
Yeriel steadied herself and said firmly, “In that case, I want to see Deculein’s memories.”
“By all means,” he said, rising from his seat.
Yeriel followed him as they left the living room and entered the right hallway. Countless frames lined the walls of the long corridor.
“All of these are Deculein’s memories. You may examine any of them.”
“... Really?” Yeriel asked.
“However, it will require mana.”
Yeriel stood before one of the frames. It showed a study that was both familiar and unfamiliar to her. The room was in Yukline Castle, but the arrangement of the furniture was different, making it feel strange.
“Do I simply look into it?”
“Indeed.”
As she looked around, she found the office empty, with nothing but a notebook lying on the desk.
“What’s going on?” Epherene blinked, her innocent expression reflecting her confusion.
***
I entered into the diary. Inside, the world was a boundless expanse of snow. White blanketed everything, with only a distant, dilapidated mansion interrupting the endless white. Instinctively, I found myself moving toward that old structure.
“... It seems Yeriel was the one who opened this,” I muttered.
I mused as I noticed the door was already ajar. Straightening my clothes, I stepped inside. The living room was empty, with only a fire crackling in the hearth.
Thud— Thud—
Then, I heard footsteps echoing through the room.
I turned toward the sound and instinctively furrowed my brow as I said, “You... resemble me?”
A man who resembled me stood there.
The man gave a nod, his expression unchanged, and said, "I am the diary itself. A guide crafted to greet those who enter here, an artificial intelligence formed by magic, and the living embodiment of this artifact."
"... Whose diary?" I asked.
The artifact responded, "I am a diary for both of you. All of your memories, hers and yours, are recorded within me."
After a brief moment of thought, I asked, "Where is Yeriel?"
"She is observing your memories," the diary stated, indicating the right hallway.
But I had no interest.
"Is she safe?" I asked.
"Yeriel holds the key," the diary responded.
I wasn't sure what key he meant, but I understood that she was safe enough.
I glanced to the left and said, "If the right side contains my memories, then the left must hold Yeriel's."
"Indeed.”
Fzzzt—!
Just then, the fire in the hearth sizzled out. At the same time, darkness and a snowstorm began to creep in, despite the windows being closed. In that strange atmosphere, I fixed my gaze on the figure who had introduced himself as the diary. The Villain’s Fate reacted.
"You are a threat," I remarked.
"Hide," the diary commanded.
"I see death when it's near; I can perceive every detail. However..."
The diary’s face, voice, and aura had been brimming with signs of death, bubbling up like foam.
"You’re brimming with murderous intent right now," I stated.
The diary, nodding calmly, remained expressionless as it said, “That might be true.”
I smiled faintly. This being might have resembled me, but it wasn’t truly me. More accurately, it wasn’t modeled after me. Its original form had been crafted after someone who looked like me—no, someone who resembled Deculein. In other words, Deculein’s father.
"Your model must be Decalane," I observed.
The diary's eyebrows had a slight twitch.
"That’s understandable, given that this is one of Decalane’s creations."
The diary remained silent for a moment before finally nodding, saying, “That’s correct. I am the master’s creation, a magical entity designed for succession.”
"Succession? Are you referring to the succession of Yukline?"
"Indeed. The master never intended to decide so easily. He never trusted you."
"... He never trusted me?"
"Correct," the diary confirmed.
"That is unfortunate to hear," I remarked as a quest notification suddenly appeared in my vision.
[Independent Quest: Family]
As I read through the quest details, the diary commanded, its voice filled with ominous undertones, "Hide."
I chose not to respond.
Swoooosh—!
The dark snowstorm took shape, swirling violently around me.
Once more, the diary commanded, "Hide."
"I do not hide."
The diary’s expression shifted and said, "... The security system is approaching. Hide."
"Must I?"
He fell silent. I had no real way to escape, especially with the entire mansion brimming with signs of death. Still, following the advice of someone intent on killing me was out of the question.
"In that case, you’ll become part of the diary," the diary said, a cruel smile twisting his lips.
I stared into his eyes and noticed a flicker of emotion gleaming within them.
Swooooooosh—!
The dark snowstorm twisted around me like a tornado, and the fierce winds engulfed me entirely.
***
The snowstorm subsided, leaving the living room in a quiet stillness.
The diary fixed its cold gaze on the notebook lying on the floor and murmured, “I knew you both would come to visit me someday.”
At that moment, Yeriel emerged from observing the two frames.
Weary from the mana she had expended, she sighed deeply. But then, catching onto something, Yeriel asked, “You knew about it? Wait, what do you mean by you both? Who else besides me?”
“Who else could it be but Deculein?”
“Where?!”
“Here,” the diary said, extending a notebook to Yeriel.
Yeriel accepted it absentmindedly, but when she read the title, her eyes widened in shock.
Deculein.
Deculein had been transformed into a notebook.