---
Whether they could speak or not.
I believed the gap between them was that small.
Once I grew a bit, I could distinguish them, but it didn't change much. Humans were like any common wooden puppet — their arms would pop off if you shook them too hard, their heads would come right off.
No, of course I loved dolls. Just the word "doll" was enough to make me happy.
There were well-made dolls and poorly-made dolls, but plenty of dolls I loved despite their flaws.
If anything, humans were… dolls I disliked. Dolls that, despite being dolls themselves, were full of complaints and did nothing but make things difficult for me.
Was it after I met my Master that this changed?
Not right away. After meeting my Master, going to the magic city Sharia, reuniting with him, and then several years passing — before I knew it, I no longer hated all humans.
The turning point might have been
She was the slave procured by my Master,
At first, she couldn't even speak and could barely manage anything on her own. She was a troublesome existence.
My Master had ordered me to look after her.
Troublesome as she was, every doll must be carved from a block of wood before it can become a doll — so I told myself I must treat her with care, and I taught her things one by one.
Before I knew it, Julie was no longer a burden.
It wasn't hard to understand why. She listened to my instructions without complaint and absorbed my Master's techniques with remarkable speed. Watching her become the kind of person I preferred over any human I'd met before — there was no way I could continue to dislike her.
Perhaps it started around the time I began living with her.
The other humans around me started to look a little different, too.
I noticed it when Ginger arrived.
Ginger was someone who always nagged me.
She mistakenly believed that trivial, small things were important, and insisted on discussing matters from the branches and leaves outward.
Roots are more important than branches — I explained that if the roots are solid, even fewer branches can bear fine leaves — but she never showed the slightest understanding.
Honestly, she was an irritating presence.
But when we reunited, she wasn't irritating anymore.
I don't know why. She simply wasn't.
She still nagged just as much, though.
Why? Why had I changed so much?
It was undoubtedly my Master's influence.
My Master never gave up on me.
I was a clumsy, brutish man who would destroy any doll he tried to make. I had little mana and could never meet my Master's expectations. No matter how many secrets of doll-making my Master tried to pour into me, I wasted them all.
I had been on the verge of giving up. Believing I could never make dolls. That doll-making was the work of gods alone.
But my Master never gave up. He tried every method to teach me doll-making, tried to get me involved in the craft.
I was happy. No one had ever looked at me the way he did.
If not for my Master, I never would have realized that Ginger was looking out for me, either.
That was when this foolish person finally understood.
Dolls and humans are different.
And that this matters.
I didn't understand why it mattered, but I understood that it did.
My Master never said such things aloud. He simply showed me through his actions. He made me "realize."
For that alone, I owe him a debt and hold him in the highest respect. I feel proud to have had such a person as my Master.
But even this foolish person sometimes failed to understand my Master's actions.
Take
Silent Seven Star.
Nanahoshi Shizuka.
She was apparently researching a summoning magic circle to return to her homeland. She never told me where that homeland was, and I had no interest.
Homeland meant nothing to me. It was a place with no pleasant memories. I felt no sympathy for Nanahoshi-sama's intense desire to return.
My Master, too, had told me that his homeland, the Kingdom of
And yet my Master devoted himself to helping Nanahoshi-sama. When her spirit was broken, he brought her to his home to care for her. When she fell gravely ill, he traveled all the way to the
I helped too. For some reason, I never felt reluctance. It was simply what my Master was doing — helping him — so I didn't overthink it.
I just didn't understand why my Master helped Nanahoshi-sama.
During all of this, something changed within me.
Before I knew it, I found myself thinking about my own homeland.
Since Nanahoshi-sama kept talking about her homeland, perhaps it was contagious. There were even days when that irksome Shirone royal palace felt inexplicably nostalgic.
That was why, I thought, when the rescue request came from
That's what I believed.
But I was wrong.
At Karon Fortress, when my Master tried to convince me to come home, my heart wavered.
I wanted to return. Life with my Master, making dolls, was so fulfilling and enjoyable that I could have said the country didn't matter at all.
But I couldn't go back.
There was only that one feeling — I cannot return.
"I want to save Pax because he's my brother" — that was nothing more than an excuse I blurted out on the spot.
I figured my Master would accept it if I said that.
And yet, for some reason, it felt right.
I didn't understand why. I had once heard that when you tell a lie, after a while it starts to feel as though it were true from the beginning, and I thought that must be it.
When Pax jumped and I saw his remains, a memory from long ago flashed through my mind.
An invitation from my elder brother, the Second Prince, to a party he was hosting.
What kind of party it was, I can't remember. It wasn't the sort of thing one was required to attend, either.
Why I attended, I don't recall.
All I remember is that, by pure chance, young Pax was seated beside me.
This was before
We didn't speak. He simply sat next to me.
There was a sense that Pax was trying to say something to me, but I couldn't be bothered and didn't even turn my face toward him.
Pax never spoke to me in the end, either.
In a sense, I ignored him.
He hadn't actually spoken to me, but I ignored him.
When I picked up Pax's body, I thought: why didn't I say even a single word to him back then?
And then everything became clear.
I understood.
I understood my own inexplicable actions, and I understood the meaning behind my Master's actions toward Nanahoshi-sama.
My Master had likely thought of Nanahoshi-sama as a younger sister.
Why hadn't I realized it sooner? My Master had an actual younger sister, after all.
The way he treated his elder sister and the way he treated Nanahoshi-sama were very similar. Slightly different, but very similar.
Watching over what they did, stepping in to help when something came up — it was very much alike.
My Master had cared for Nanahoshi-sama with the same tenderness one shows a sister.
And why had I helped him with it?
Why did I start thinking about my homeland afterward?
Why, when the letter came from Pax, did I decide to return to my country despite everyone's objections?
Why, after the battle at Karon Fortress, did I feel compelled to rescue Pax?
Why did that excuse burst out of me on the spot?
Why did it feel right?
I understood. I understood everything. Everything connected.
But it was too late.
I shouldn't have figured it out so late.
Pax was dead.
Things hadn't gone the way they had with my Master.
But there were still things I could do.
---
They say "the going is easy, the returning is terrifying," but the return was smooth.
I used the magic armor to tow the carriage. When we reached the forest, I had them prepare a teleportation magic circle, and Zanoba and I dismantled the armor into pieces and transported it to the floating castle.
Roxy went ahead through first, and Zanoba and I went back to pay our respects to
Perugius greeted us with his usual curt "Is that so," then led us to the usual room and delivered a lecture about how "binding oneself to a nation is foolish."
Zanoba nodded sincerely and explained that he was renouncing his royal status.
Perugius seemed satisfied with that.
I also received a word of acknowledgment from Perugius — "Well done."
For all his bluster, he was probably relieved that his tea-drinking companion wasn't gone for good.
Incidentally, I also reported my return to Nanahoshi, but she just let out a long sigh.
Crying farewell and then returning — it ruins any sentimental impact. I understand how she felt.
Now,
I had to be by her side for the birth.
Going home…
But before that, there was something I had to do.
Reporting to
--- This time, I'd been outplayed.
I suffered no personal harm, but going forward, Shirone — the Republic — would produce a person of great importance to Orsted.
In other words, he'd lost a strong piece.
Thinking about it that way, maybe I'd come back too soon. I should have stayed in that country longer and worked to influence the Republic…
No, wait. If the goal was for it to become a Republic, Orsted wouldn't have told me to "save Pax" in the first place.
Regardless, I should report what happened honestly. And if there was a way to make up for it, I'd do it.
"Roxy, I'm going to stop by the office first. I want to store the magic armor there."
"…Understood. I'll go ahead and let the family know we're safe."
I parted ways with Roxy near the town entrance and headed for the office. For some reason, Zanoba followed.
"What is it, Zanoba?"
"I wish to thank Orsted-sama for the armor that saved my life, and to apologize for damaging it."
"I see."
Zanoba thanking Orsted — now that was unusual. I'd assumed the curse suppressed all such emotions.
Perhaps
He might try to punch Orsted the moment he saw him, but he could probably restrain himself.
Reassured by this thought, I returned to the office with Zanoba.
I stored the magic armor in the armory, locked the door, and moved on to the main building.
Through the empty lobby. To the president's office.
*Deep breath.* Before going in — a deep breath.
This was a failure report.
There had been a few failures before, but this was a major one.
I might be scolded.
Maybe he'd be out today? No, no — the sooner the report, the better.
Right.
First, a knock.
A knock gives the other person a moment to compose themselves.
A respectful knock. Lightly, with the fingers. *Knock, knock.* "Rudeus."
He was in. Of course.
But I had everything organized. I would be sincere and straightforward.
"Excuse me! Rudeus Greyrat, reporting my return from the Kingdom of Shirone!"
I flung the door open and strode in with a bow.
Then I looked up.
"Wha—!?"
Orsted was wearing a black full-face mask, and it made me cry out in surprise.
Was this… one of those? The new face Cliff made? No, a magical tool.
"You seem to have returned safely."
"…Y-yes."
Caught off guard, but no matter. I would report my failure with full sincerity.
I achieved nothing. No — that wasn't quite right.
"I have a report to report—"
I laid out the events in a measured tone.
What I'd been mindful of, what I'd failed to notice.
I went through it calmly and carefully, one point at a time, so there'd be no grounds to push back afterward.
What I'd gained from each development, what I'd thought, how I'd reasoned, whom I'd consulted, how I'd reached my conclusions, and how things had turned out.
My predictions of the
I summarized all of it.
"I am deeply sorry. I failed to carry out the mission and allowed Prince Pax to die."
Finally, I bowed my head.
No matter how I dressed it up, a failure was a failure.
If there was a punishment, I would accept it.
"……"
Orsted exuded a heavy, oppressive aura.
Not being able to see his expression made him more frightening than usual. Honestly, for me, he was scarier when he wore the helmet. Why was he even wearing that thing? Would he take it off?
"King Leonard Kingdragon of the Dragon King Kingdom was the Man-God's Apostle. General Jade of the Kingdom of Shirone was likely an Apostle as well. The Man-God manipulated these two to corner Pax, driving him to suicide."
That was Orsted's conclusion.
Two Apostles.
First, he manipulated the King of the Dragon King Kingdom to provide aid to Pax. In doing so, he planted in Pax the sense that "he must live up to the expectations of the Dragon King Kingdom's king."
He gave him a princess, gave him a Death God, put him in an impeccable position… then manipulated Jade to sabotage everything.
That was probably how it went.
If the Man-God could see the future, he must have known exactly who needed to do what in order for Pax to take his own life.
"…What about the last one?"
"The last one is either the King of the Bihta Kingdom… or possibly no one at all."
"Come to think of it, the Death God mentioned that the former Demon King,
"…………If that Demon King were an Apostle, he wouldn't stay out of sight."
Right, he wouldn't. He was an attention-seeker, after all.
In any case, I must have been an irregularity for the Man-God. That was probably why he'd made such an effort to turn people unlikely to cross paths with me into Apostles.
But I hadn't caught on to the Man-God's intentions.
Pathetic.
"Should I go take out Jade now…?"
"It's too late."
Orsted's voice was devoid of emotion.
"…I'm sorry."
"There are points I should reflect on — having made the wrong prediction beforehand, killing Leonard, and not going to the Kingdom of Shirone myself instead of leaving everything to you… but…"
He said that much, then fell silent.
He wasn't going to tell me not to worry about it.
This failure was that serious, then.
"Um, is there no way to use someone as a substitute for Pax?"
"There is no substitute."
"Nothing at all?"
"…………"
He said nothing.
Was the Shirone Republic really that crucial? He'd said it twice already.
What should I do? How could I make up for this?
"If I may, Orsted-sama?"
A voice came from just behind me.
I turned. Zanoba was standing there.
How long had he been there? From the beginning?
He'd been quiet, so I assumed he was waiting outside.
"Zanoba Shirone…"
Even Orsted seemed to have just noticed him.
No, he probably genuinely hadn't noticed. That helmet did block the front of his vision.
…Come to think of it, he could speak now. Which meant he could breathe, too.
"First, I must express my gratitude. Thank you for lending me the armor. It was destroyed, but it saved my life."
Zanoba stepped forward and bowed.
I couldn't read Orsted's expression, but the helmet should have softened the impression somewhat.
Ah — so that was why he'd been wearing the helmet. He'd sensed Zanoba's presence from the start and put it on in advance.
"If you wish to thank someone, thank Rudeus. Is that all?"
"No, it is not only that."
He was just going to thank him? I could've sworn that was all. But Zanoba took another step forward, as though pressuring Orsted.
"From what I just overheard the Master say, this affair involved Pax being caught up in a struggle between Orsted-sama and an opposing force. Is that correct?"
"That is not wrong."
Was Zanoba perhaps thinking that Orsted had orchestrated this? If so, I should probably stop him.
"However, I also heard that Orsted-sama attempted to help my brother. Is that so?"
"I was not trying to help him. I wanted the nation he would create, and the person who would be born from it."
"The nation he would create? The person who would be born…?"
"Even if I explained what that meant, you wouldn't understand."
Orsted was being unusually cryptic today.
But this was something I wanted to know, too. If I didn't understand what it was, there would be no way to make amends.
"Orsted-sama, if you could explain in detail, I would appreciate it."
"……"
At my words, Orsted fell silent.
The room went quiet, and all I could hear was breathing from behind the helmet.
Under other circumstances, it might have sounded like the tension was easing. But instead, each breath sounded like an angry exhalation, and my own tension only mounted.
"……Pax Shirone will become king and establish a Republic."
Yes. I'd heard that before.
What I wanted to know was what came after.
"After some time passes, a former slave merchant will rise to prominence. His name: Bolt Macedonius. Pax will place great trust in him."
Bolt Macedonius. He was the key figure.
"Bolt Macedonius will become a pillar of the state and take root throughout the Shirone Republic."
"What kind of person is he?"
"Bolt Macedonius himself does nothing. However, from his descendants, the Demon God
Laplace.
So he appeared here.
"With Pax dead, there is no telling where Laplace will be born."
In other words, Pax creating the Republic was the trigger for Laplace's birth.
"…But wait. What if we created the Republic from now? Or set up Bolt Macedonius with the woman he would have married and had children with…"
"It's futile. You think I haven't tried that before?"
Across the many loops, Orsted must have tried every approach. Among those attempts, he had used randomized variation to pin down exactly when and where Laplace would be born.
It probably wasn't limited to the Shirone Republic. Over the course of a hundred years, he'd been engineering things so that Laplace would be born at a single, fixed point. Perhaps some of the work I'd already done had been part of that.
If even one element went wrong, nothing would go as planned.
"Laplace is someone who must be killed, in order to reach the Man-God. After reviving, he will lie low for a time, gather allies, and wage war. Defeating his subordinates while taking down Laplace requires enormous effort and mana. And immediately after that, I must fight the Man-God."
"Um… couldn't you recover your mana after defeating Laplace and then fight the Man-God?"
"The timing of Laplace's revival is roughly fixed. It occurs near the end of the loop. I've tried to engineer an earlier revival before, but it didn't work."
Orsted exhaled heavily.
"War alone will not bridge the gap to the Man-God. This loop is a failure."
*Failure.* The word echoed in my head.
Then why hadn't he come to the Shirone side himself?
The petty part of me screamed the question, but I didn't say it aloud.
I had been given a job and I had failed.
This assignment had been a test of my usefulness.
Was it over? Had I been found wanting? Had Orsted given up on this loop?
If so, what would happen to me from here on…
"It is premature to call it a failure."
Zanoba spoke up in a bright voice.
How much of the conversation had Zanoba understood? He'd been blindsided by talk of the future — he must have been confused.
"If a war is coming and Laplace's subordinates must be defeated before he can be taken down, then we need only begin preparing our forces now."
"Oh?"
"We needn't go so far as to build an army. We should gather people capable of defeating Laplace and win them over as allies."
Good — Zanoba had said something worthwhile.
That was right. If the concern was mana consumption, Orsted didn't have to fight personally.
"Orsted-sama may be unable to make allies due to the curse, but… I am here as well. And I will help."
With that, Zanoba stepped forward before Orsted, dropped to one knee, and bowed his head.
"This proposal is only half-baked at best. It may well be off the mark."
I wasn't sure whether it was on target, but it seemed like a sound idea.
Laplace's revival was… eighty years from now, wasn't it? The timing of his revival being roughly the same meant there was only a few years' margin of error.
In that time, gather powerful allies — Death Gods, people like Perugius — and throw them at Laplace when he revived.
That way, Orsted would emerge unscathed.
"I don't know the full details, but I've heard that you two are joining forces to fight against the Man-God. And that Man-God is—"
Zanoba cut himself off, raised his head… and looked at Orsted.
Then he placed his hands on the ground.
"He is the one who killed my brother."
Zanoba lay flat on his stomach.
Full prostration.
Not the kind where you simply flop to the ground as he usually did.
Slowly, elegantly, as a mark of respect.
"Please — allow me to serve as one of Orsted-sama's retainers as well."
"……"
"I want vengeance!"
I thought I saw Orsted glance at me.
His view should have been blocked by the helmet…
But perhaps he wanted my opinion?
Did I even have the standing to offer one?
"If Zanoba joins us, the magic armor will continue to improve. His proposal also seemed sound. This situation has created even more challenges, and as far as I'm concerned, one more person—"
"Very well."
Orsted didn't let me finish.
He nodded, rose to his feet, and looked down at Zanoba.
Then he declared: "Then you will serve under Rudeus and follow his instructions. If you claim you can gather allies — show me."
"……Ha!"
Orsted still wore the helmet. Zanoba still lay flat on the ground.
And just like that, Zanoba became Orsted's subordinate — and my colleague.
--- Pax was dead.
Shirone — the Republic — would never be born.
Orsted's plan had been thrown dramatically off course.
The losses were enormous.
Because I hadn't moved well enough.
In exchange, Zanoba had joined us.
I didn't yet know what this would lead to.
At the very least, the magic armor would keep advancing with him around…
But still — was my existence actually a benefit to Orsted?
He'd told me my previous work had given him considerable breathing room, but this failure seemed to erase all of it.
Or perhaps the losses actually outweighed the gains.
Could my future work make my existence worth more than the damage I'd caused?
No. It had to.
If not, I wouldn't understand why Orsted had saved me from the Man-God in the first place.
Besides — Orsted could easily move on to the next loop, but for me, this was the only life I had.
Life is a one-time thing. Getting a second chance was a miracle.
Miracles don't happen twice.
I had to live this life with everything I had.
Even if, hypothetically, I could start over as this Rudeus Greyrat once more…
If this time I proved to be a burden to Orsted, a nuisance— If he realized I wasn't just useless but actively harmful— The possibility of being discarded without a second thought still remained.
I had to give it everything here, because there would be no next time.
If I proved harmful to Orsted, then the me from the next loop would be deceived by the Man-God again, sent hurtling into the past, made to fight Orsted… and killed.
Or perhaps I'd be killed even earlier.
During my childhood in
Or during the journey to the Kingdom of Asura.
Which of these it would be depended on what lay ahead…
Orsted treated me kindly. There were many reasons, but self-interest was surely a large part of it.
His kindness might simply be a way of testing what I would respond to in preparation for the next loop.
I could not forget that possibility.
This time, I had still been somewhat pampered.
Somewhere in my heart, I'd believed that if I followed Orsted, when the time came, I could ask him for help and he'd find a way — he'd make things work.
I had to stop relying on Orsted.
Let me carve that into my heart once more.