Iger stared at the dagger planted before Ashe. His parched lips trembled slightly as a long-forgotten fear tore through him like a wolf. So... am I afraid of death after all?Am I nothing more than this kind of man? At the end of the day, am I just an unqualified fraudster?
Fear slowly devoured the veela's calm, the very lifeline of a fraudster. Once composure was drained, it would mark the end of a fraudster's career.
Iger could no longer recall the last ti he had truly felt fear. Perhaps it vanished the day he successfully swindled his first lollipop from another child at the orphanage, or when he preemptively accused the other children, framing them before the headmaster could speak.
Later, after studying the Mind Class in depth, Iger concluded he was born with an antisocial personality. To waste such a life by not becoming a fraudster would be unthinkable. To him, manipulating human nature was not rely a ans of profit; it was survival. He was the kind of man who could only exist in darkness. Without sches, without deception, he could not endure.
The unique social climate and strategic advantages of the Blood Moon Kingdom had smoothed his path. Even when the Heresy Court captured him, he felt no fear and treated it as professional training. The inmates of Shattered Lake Prison were harder to deceive, but that only fueled his sense of challenge.
Iger had never feared the uncertainties of fate. He had faced far graver dangers, like being surrounded by assassins from secret organizations, a hand cannon pressed to his head, or even pinned down and threatened with mutilation. Yet he had felt no fear. The reason was simple. The first person a fraudster deceived was himself.
A fraudster who did not believe himself immortal could deceive no one. Likewise, without faith that his next words could change the outco, every manipulation would fail.
Iger had no idea why fear gripped him now. He was not truly in mortal danger. He still held Ashe's wish in his hand. With a single command, Ashe could be rendered completely harmless.
Iger thought, He will most likely strike Harvey first.
He did not even consider the possibility that Ashe might refuse the invitation. Ashe had no reason to spare them, just as a veela would never refuse a beastman delivered to her door.
For escapees from Shattered Lake Prison, mutual slaughter was practically a form of greeting. If opportunity did not present itself, they'd create one. And if opportunity arose, they would ruin each other without hesitation. Between them existed only pure exploitation. There was no room for rcy.
Strangely, even after their escape, when no conflicts of interest remained, Iger remained deeply wary of the others. Even strangers seed more trustworthy than his forr companions.
They were of the sa kind, incapable of peaceful coexistence. If forced to act together, death would be their inevitable end.
Iger often wondered why he harbored murderous intent toward them. If it were to erase the past, the Heresy Court still held thick files on him. If it were to protect secrets, now that they had left Blood Moon, neither Harvey's nor his own secrets mattered.
No. It was simpler than that. Everything boiled down to self-preservation.
Iger realized that no matter how much he distrusted the others, no matter how vigilant he remained, when the mont ca, he would still choose to cooperate with Harvey and Ashe. And they, in turn, knew his combat style as well as he did. Sohow, they had beco... companions who relied on each other.
As the concluding notes from Ansu Fables · Companions[1] once said, "Dependence is the most dangerous blade, handed by one's own hand to the ally behind one's back."
To expose oneself was foolish. To rely on others was disgraceful. To have companions was to start the countdown to betrayal. In another ti, in another place, Iger might have risked befriending such people. But of all the places available, they had t as death row inmates in a prison. No one would dare accept companions picked from a garbage heap.
The sa went for Iger. He knew Harvey and Ashe would not either.
If they could not truly beco companions, yet were forced into a tacit understanding like one, the only possible outco was enmity. That was the way of the people of Blood Moon. Others would always only be others.
Betray first, and you would never be betrayed. That was the law of selfishness.
So when Iger saw Ashe draw the dagger without hesitation, he felt no surprise. What caught him off guard was that Ashe did not advance toward Harvey. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Iger.
Iger's thoughts raced. He understood Ashe's plan imdiately. Ashe intended to force him to expend his wish before moving on to Harvey. If that happened, the fraudster would lose his final ans of deterring the forr cult leader.
Just as expected of you... Just as expected of the detestable enemy who has suppressed from start to finish... You truly are a cult leader who brings misfortune, and I am rely one of your victims.
Everything unfolded as predicted, and Iger felt no anger. Yet for so reason he couldn't explain, a faint disappointnt stirred within him.
Ashe crouched before him, lifted his chin, and pressed the dagger against his dust-streaked face. A new thought surfaced in Iger's mind. If this continues, I'll die anyway. Rather than waste the wish preserving my dignity in these final monts, I might as well drag Ashe down with . Let us die together, buried in the Virtual World, ghosts of the past. If I cannot live, then your life no longer matters. Or... I could use the wish to make you kill . End my pain, and complete your rebirth.
Just as Iger's emotions surged, Ashe paused and turned to the Everlasting Doom. "Can you guarantee that once I complete this task, you'll let go?"
The Everlasting Doom replied calmly, "If you truly prove your loyalty to the Four Pillars Deities, you will naturally receive the treatnt you deserve."
Ashe said, "You're dodging the question with empty words. Fine, let's put it in writing. I have contract papers crafted with a Miracle. With the Virtual World as guarantor, I'll believe you."
The Everlasting Doom eyed him. A strange smile curved her lips, and a faint breeze stirred around the silver throne, lifting the hem of her dress lightly.
Crack!
With a sudden, explosive snap, the hovering chain of fla above Ashe's head broke. He hurled the dagger at the Everlasting Doom, but the falling suspended brazier smashed into his back, and he convulsed on the ground like a shrimp, wracked with pain.
An invisible current deflected the dagger, sending it skimming just beside Everlasting Doom's cheek, narrowly missing her round, delicate face.
A chanical arm retrieved the dagger and returned it beneath her skirt. She gestured for the black-robed figures to bind Ashe with a Miracle, then spoke leisurely, "As expected. My judgnt was correct. You are neither a follower of the Four Pillars Deities nor the Watcher of Doomsday. You are simply Ashe Heath."
1. This is a made-up book within the story and does not exist in real life. ☜
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