Chapter 86

A rift had opened along Count Vermilion’s ship’s route.

It was a monster rift, the kind that appeared only in conflict zones.

Why one had opened somewhere that was not a conflict zone was beside the point for now.

What mattered was that the survival rate among civilians in the vicinity when such a rift formed was less than three percent. That three percent included victims left critically injured beyond recovery and those suffering from severe mental derangement.

Erabelle requested permission to leave the ship temporarily, but her request was denied.

“Wait here.”

Dezeb spoke gently after rejecting her request in the communications room, where, for some reason, several of the Dogs had also been assembled.

“Don’t worry.”

Then he glanced at his Dogs. The surveillance team bowed their heads deeply beneath his gaze.

“Be careful not to let what happened yesterday happen again. If it looks like it might, set a few people aside in advance. We can hold a carnival for the first time in a while.”

“Yes. We apologize.”

Whatever had happened, the Dogs kept their heads lowered while Dezeb alone smiled lightly and addressed Erabelle again.

“I’ll be right back.”

And he truly was.

Less than an hour later, Erabelle was able to meet the Count, who appeared entirely unharmed.

“A rift?”

The Count looked as though he had no idea what she was talking about.

“Well, we never came that way. Didn’t you hear? We took quite the detour aboard the ship House Avganis provided.”

Erabelle had heard that the Count’s backup flagship had been nearly torn in half by the rift.

By the time it was recovered and repaired, she suspected the part about “the ship House Avganis provided” might disappear from the story, leaving only the information that they had “taken a detour.”

It was remarkably similar to what had happened with Majia.

“Anyway, enough of that nonsense. You—!”

Cohabitation, scandal, failure to make contact, and so on.

While enduring the barrage of grievances the Count had accumulated, Erabelle furtively shifted her gaze toward the window.

The stars scattered across the darkness remained motionless. The ship had entered standby mode and was stationary, relying on the gravity of a nearby planet.

Even after the multi-passenger shuttle carrying Count Vermilion and his attendants entered the ship safely, the vessel remained at a standstill.

Erabelle had a faint sense of foreboding.

Something had definitely happened.

Even at midnight, the ship had not left standby, and Dezeb had not contacted her at all. The Dogs seemed somewhat subdued as well.

“Has something happened?”

“Well, we don’t really know....”

But the Dogs’ reactions were awkward. They answered when asked, yet each of them visibly tried to avoid being the one who had to respond.

“If there’s anything I can do, I truly want to help in whatever way I can.”

“No. Nothing serious has happened to him.”

That sounded very much as though something serious had happened.

But not a single one of them would give her a proper answer.

“Would you like to go see him?”

Erabelle turned at the sudden question.

“Dezeb is in very bad shape right now. He was severely injured, and he’s recovering slowly.”

It was Virgo.

She had not seen him in a very long time. This was their first meeting since his head had been cut off on Colony 80.

His recovery seemed to have gone well; his face and neck were perfectly smooth. But judging by the way he was speaking so politely, he did not appear to be entirely normal either.

“Commander Dezeb... is injured?”

It was difficult to believe that a man capable of half-destroying Sanctuary by himself could have been injured doing anything.

“Yes. He was injured very badly.”

“Did he perhaps hurt himself...?”

“You really are quick on the uptake, Lieutenant. Well, that’s about half right. But it’s true that he’s in bad shape. If you go to him, you’ll be an enormous help. In fact, the person Dezeb needs most right now is you.”

“...Me?”

It was nice to be useful, but surely not to that extent....

“I’ll give you 10,000 cp if you go.”

“.......”

“Well, if you truly don’t want to, there’s nothing I can do. But remember, I did tell you that Dezeb needs you.”

“I’ll go.”

Virgo beamed at her immediate answer. The other Dogs, however, scowled.

《Chief, what are you—》

“What? We can’t just stay on standby like this forever.”

《Even so, where do you think you’re sending the Lieutenant in his current state? Have you lost your mind?》

“You little shit, watch your mouth. If the Lieutenant says she wants to go, why don’t you try stopping her yourselves?”

Their consciousness-based communication was exclusive to their kind. From Erabelle’s perspective, Virgo was talking to himself.

What is this, some kind of hilarious one-man show?

In any case, judging by the mood, the other Dogs seemed to oppose Virgo. Erabelle quietly rooted for the operations team’s insubordination, but they merely prepared a small spacecraft for her.

The Dogs had neither conscience nor backbone.

“Lieutenant, perhaps you should reconsider while you still can. You will undoubtedly regret this.”

“Then perhaps you could break my legs or just hit me hard in the back of the head—”

“We depart in five minutes.”

The Dog helping her prepare hurriedly avoided Erabelle as though she were carrying the plague.

That was just cruel.

Well, she had intended to go anyway.... More importantly, the entire situation had arisen because of the Count. Still, their behavior left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Erabelle clicked her tongue, and the Dogs shared a united thought for the first time in quite a while.

《What are you planning to do?》

《You even shook off the entire surveillance team. Their team leader isn’t going to let this go.》

《What if the Lieutenant suffers mental instability? She’s already in poor condition....》

《Humans lose their minds over a few tentacles. With Master in his current state... what if she dies of shock?》

《What in the world are you thinking?》

Under the barrage, Virgo merely shrugged.

“What do you think?”

Rubbing the back of his neck where it had once been severed, he replied calmly,

“I think she’ll be perfectly fine.”

The Dogs fell silent at Virgo’s answer.

“The Lieutenant was unharmed even near the Molt. If she can remain unaffected this time as well... then....”

Then it’s real. We truly have hope.

“In that case, I’ll gladly bow my head before her and serve her forever as the lady of the house.”

The Dogs disparaged their immediate superior to his face, telling him not to state the obvious.

“It won’t work.”

“You should keep your hopes realistic.”

“How can you expect something from a Lieutenant who isn’t even thirty when the Marquis and Marchioness themselves failed?”

They had given up on true hope and merely wanted this cycle to remain peaceful for as long as possible. Virgo grinned at them.

“Stop running your mouths and place a bet. One million cp says the Lieutenant will be fine. If I lose, I’ll go to Defit.”

The Dogs shook their heads.

“Running away won’t solve anything.”

“.......”

“If anything happens to the Lieutenant, you’ll be finished even if you flee to the edge of the universe, never mind Defit. I heard the surveillance team was promised a banquet just because Sanctuary breached their defenses for a moment. If something happens to the Lieutenant, then you....”

“What about me?”

“Wouldn’t it go far beyond a banquet? Why don’t you appoint the next team leader in advance? How about me?”

“What kind of bullshit is that? Do you think sacrificing me alone will settle things if something happens to the Lieutenant? You’re all finished too.”

“.......”

“We already have an emergency because forced lichification caused his mental instability, and now we make it even worse? At that point, a banquet would be heaven.”

Virgo grinned at his pale teammates, then looked toward the place where Vermilion had departed.

Still, one never knew.

Perhaps she truly would become their hope....

But he decided to prepare for the possibility that things went wrong. Searching for a poison that could actually kill them, Virgo asked,

“Anyone want to place a group order?”

“What could we even take that would kill us...?”

“I’m looking, you fucker.”

“You’re the one who caused this mess! Why do we have to die too?”

“If you truly don’t want to end up on the banquet menu, hurry up and help me look.”

“Fuck....”

Around that time, Dezeb lay sprawled against the half-destroyed ship, silently staring at the rift stretched wide open before him.

It was quiet.

He needed to return, but his wounds were not healing quickly enough, leaving him unable to move.

The closer the rift came to its critical point, the larger it would grow, and his condition would deteriorate with it.

And the more difficulty he had maintaining human form, the more raw and vivid his rage, humiliation, and self-loathing would become.

Dezeb lay deathly still and waited to recover.

Then he narrowed his one remaining eye and raised himself.

“Erabelle...?”

A small spacecraft was drawing closer through the residual smog of the dark rift.

“Erabelle.”

Which bastard did this?

He opened a communications channel and spoke in a coaxing tone.

“I don’t think you should come here.”

“Do you not need me?”

Erabelle’s characteristically cautious yet matter-of-fact voice came through the communicator. Dezeb let out an incredulous laugh.

“No, I do need you. I mean that it would be better for you not to come.”

“If you need me, I’ll come.”

The answer was so completely predictable that he was at a loss for words.

“...You really do have a tendency to dig your own grave.”

“Is... is that where my grave is?”

“Maybe?”

Dezeb laughed as he asked,

“If I say it is, will you stay away?”

“I’m coming in.”

“All right.”