Retracing our steps, we headed back toward the Endenburg estate.

  As we passed through the residential district and commercial sector, moving deeper into the noble quarter, I could feel my steps growing heavier.

  Behind us, the chaotic streets overflowed with freedom. Even though I had a purpose—to save Misha—I was still overwhelmed by that world.

  But what about the scene before me now?

  The neatly maintained streets, the splendid mansions lining the dazzling space—I felt nothing from them.

  "Kid, you look pale."

  "Do I?"

  Beside me, Schneizel, who was carrying Misha on his back, gnced at me with concern. His blue eyes reflected my face—and indeed, I must have looked terrible.

  Well, I guess this was inevitable.

  The pce I was returning to was my cage.

  I was willingly walking away from freedom.

  It wasn’t as if there was no way to escape this hell.

  But it was a gamble. And if I relied on that method, I’d be locked into a path I could never deviate from.

  "Did the vampires do something to ya?"

  "No, it’s not that."

  "Hmm. Well, if ya don’t wanna talk, I won’t pry."

  Whatever he saw in my expression, Schneizel didn’t press further and fell silent.

  This was just like in the game.

  Schneizel loved battle more than anyone, sometimes making irrational decisions for the sake of a fight—yet he was sharp when it came to reading people’s moods.

  Silence settled around us.

  Misha, still carried on Schneizel’s back, shifted slightly as if in discomfort.

  We kept walking until, eventually, the Endenburg estate came into view.

  "That your pce?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I’ll leave ya here. Once I hand over this maid, we’re done."

  "I... see."

  —This was probably my st chance.

  Schneizel’s status was high—someone like me couldn’t just meet him whenever I wanted.

  If I let this opportunity slip, I’d likely never speak to him again in my life.

  Alright. I’d say it.

  After today’s adventure, I’d steeled my resolve.

  "Schneizel."

  "Hey, kid."

  Our words overpped, and we both blinked at each other in surprise.

  Schneizel was the first to ugh.

  "Pfft—hah! What, this about earlier?"

  "Yes."

  I met his gaze head-on, dead serious.

  What I was about to do was hijack the story.

  I’d take Norwin—a character who was barely even a mob—and propel him to the heavens.

  This one move could change everything—the Endenburg family’s curse, my own powerlessness, Cressencia’s fate.

  With all my emotions poured into it, I spoke:

  "Schneizel... Will you take me as your disciple?"

  Those were words that, in the original story, should have been spoken by the protagonist, Arthur.

  Midway through the tale, after his own weakness led to the deaths of many, he sought greater power and asked the strongest man in the world to train him.

  That was how it was supposed to go.

  But I was stealing it.

  I cked strength, talent, and—at this point—probably even the resolve.

  But that was exactly why I needed this. The power to survive in this world.

  To become Schneizel’s disciple here and now.

  The price?

  I’d be throwing myself into a life of endless battle.

  Schneizel was searching for a successor—and if I put myself forward as a candidate, I’d have to live up to that role.

  But I didn’t care.

  For a while, we stood there in silence, locked in a battle of stares.

  Pressure, presence, killing intent—it all intensified. His gaze felt like it was trying to shake me loose.

  Somehow, I held on, barely keeping my crumbling resolve intact.

  How many seconds had passed?

  Then—

  "Eh, passable, I guess."

  Suddenly, the pressure vanished as Schneizel patted my head.

  "S-So...!"

  "Yeah, I’ll take ya as my disciple."

  "Really?!"

  Joy threatened to burst out of me.

  I nearly jumped on the spot, but Schneizel quickly added a warning.

  "But don’t think it’s gonna be some cushy master-disciple retionship. Think of it more like an experiment. I’ve never taken a disciple before, so I don’t know how far I can push ya or how to make ya grow. I’ll be figuring all that out on you, got it?"

  "I don’t care! If that’s what it takes to get stronger, I’ll accept it all!"

  "All of it, huh? Heh. Alright then, first things first—we gotta get your parents’ permission."

  "Ah—"

  Oh. Right.

  Being his disciple meant leaving the Endenburg household.

  And as a seven-year-old kid, I obviously needed my parents’ approval.

  Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.

  I’d never even seen my parents, but something told me they’d never agree.

  Instinctively, I turned to Schneizel with pleading eyes—just like before, begging for help.

  "Earlier, I stayed out of it since it wasn’t my business. But if you’re my disciple candidate, that changes things. Leave it to me."

  What I saw then was a grin brimming with confidence—the smile of a man who knew he was absolute.

  —Oh no.

  I think I’m falling for him.