Volume 6 Chapter 119 The One Who Will Inherit Me
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Humans have a limited lifespan. Therefore, inheritance issues inevitably arise.
According to Ms. Floria, 80% of the world’s conflicts stem from inheritance. That might sound exaggerated, but judging from the historical dramas I’ve seen, family feuds over wealth and succession are a timeless classic.
I never imagined I’d be tangled in such matters myself. Before I realized it, I’d become quite a wealthy individual. If this world had a Forbes-style ranking, I’d likely be near the top. It feels unreal, especially considering the days I used to scrape by.
In games, once you defeat the Demon King, your gold maxes out and stops increasing. But this world isn’t a game.
…Wait. Is it?
Could I have built this fortune back in Japan—or anywhere on Earth?
Ms. Floria says inheritance troubles come from people avoiding the reality of death one’s own death. She also mentioned that issues like those in King Lear, where succession triggers family drama, are surprisingly common.
Well, I get it.
If I’m going to stake my life on this kingdom, I need to choose my successor properly.
”How about, if something happens to me, Ms. Floria picks my successor?” I asked.
Ms. Floria has a sharp eye for character. If she wanted, she could likely become queen herself.
The Electorate system… was that risky?
”I can’t do it,” she said. “The people of this country are captivated by Your Majesty and follow you.”
Cut the flattery. I’m no charismatic hero like the Conqueror King. I’ve just been fortunate to be surrounded by capable people. My luck must have been absurdly good.
”You have low self-esteem,” she said, “so let me tell you—many of the Conqueror King’s former subordinates have joined your side. You’re not lacking in charisma.”
”Ah, strength is amazing,” I said. “Chivalry’s great, but even a hero needs food to survive.”
”Ugh! That’s true, but it’s not the point,” Ms. Nina snapped, cheeks puffing.
Ms. Nina looks adorable when she gets impatient. It’s one of her moe [charm] points. I want to protect that weird little expression of hers.
”As long as you work hard, anyone can enjoy curry whenever they want,” Ms. Floria said. “This land is a prosperous kingdom under a wise king. Once the rightful heir is named, the people will rest easy.”
She really does love curry. Lately, she’s been obsessed with yogurt curry. Thanks to the boom in dairy production, our nation’s cuisine has leveled up fast.
”‘Wise’ is a bit much,” I muttered. “I’m just aiming for a healthy, culturally minimalistic lifestyle.”
”What more could you ask for?” she replied with a smile.
…Huh? Are we talking past each other again? Another cultural gap?
Anyway, I understand I need to name my successor.
Ideally, I’d wait until the children grow up so I can judge their talents and personalities—but Sar-Sar hasn’t even given birth yet.
Tizzy and Ms. Shirakaba’s children, born in Uno’s nest, must be pretty big by now. I really wanted to meet them.
El’s child must’ve grown too—in both size and species. There’s historical precedent for a giant-tribe king ruling human lands, but that’s a legend from the Age of Gods.
Honestly, I’d be fine with any of the kids taking over. They could even split the country between them… but that never works. Wasn’t that part of what caused the fall of the Kamakura samurai?
When I think about it like this, primogeniture—inheritance by the firstborn—seems like the simplest option. No second-guessing. The risk, of course, is if the firstborn’s incompetent.
They say if the palanquin is light, it’s fine to have a capable assistant carry it.
But in my case, defining the “firstborn” gets complicated.
Sar-Sar was the first to get pregnant, but Ms. Shirakaba gave birth first, back in Uno’s nest.
Is this a time paradox? The Urashima effect?
”Hmm, I’m starting to lose track of what’s what,” I muttered.
”In reality, it’s quite a difficult matter,” Ms. Floria said with a sigh.
I’d planned to ditch the country and vanish if things got too messy. But once I started a family, I couldn’t be that irresponsible anymore.
For now, I’ll name Sar-Sar’s unborn child as the heir and write the succession order on parchment, then sign it.
”It feels like my era is ending,” I murmured. “Somehow… it’s a little lonely.”
”It’s not time for you to retire yet, Father,” Ms. Nina said.
”Retirement and wandering the world to fix things does sound kind of fun,” I said with a chuckle.
Ms. Nina grinned mischievously. The fact that they can still laugh at a time like this… honestly, it’s amazing.
Rain drummed.
That took more mental strength than I expected. Compared to this, meeting the Demon King sounds like a walk in the park.
Thanks to decrypting the Demon King’s communications, I can track their movements almost like holding a roadmap in my hands—even their future plans.
But of course, the encryption itself could be a trap. Yakou’s reconnaissance hasn’t gone to waste. Cross-referencing info from multiple sources has really helped our accuracy.
”It’s not good. Does Your Majesty really need to go out personally?” Shea-Shea asked.
Looks like I didn’t explain it properly.
”Please ask Ms. Floria for the details,” I replied.
”The soldiers are itching to fight,” Shea-Shea said. “If Her Majesty moves, we won’t be able to restrain them.”
…Huh? My army’s that eager?
It seems the Demon King’s eerie broadcasts have worn down their spirits. Now they’re ready to act, no matter what.
People aren’t always rational.
I’m glad some former hunters are among the commanding officers. They understand the pain of waiting and have been keeping morale steady.
”It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll sneak out of the castle. To fool the enemy, you start by fooling your allies, right?”
”Please don’t deceive your allies,” Shea-Shea cried. “I won’t know what to do!”
Though I tried to act calm, Shea-Shea was clearly rattled. Honestly, I’m right there with her—barely keeping it together.
Still, I’ll leave Ms. Floria behind. We should be fine.
* * *
After casually saying goodbye to Shea-Shea and the others, Ms. Nina and I rode a cart toward the docks.
”It’s just the two of us again,” she said.
”Yeah,” I replied.
…I might die soon.
I thought I’d accounted for everything. But there might be a hole somewhere in the plan.
If anything happens to me or Ms. Nina, this could be our last moment alone.
We both clutched the cart’s railing in silence.
At the ramp stood a familiar figure—horsefolk Claire. The advanced wind spirit, Mistrena, floated beside her.
Had word already leaked? Or was it just the wind whispering?
”I’ll accompany you,” Claire said.
A companion for a trip toward death. The thought flashed cold and fast through my mind.
I’d planned to rush through using the Hover Shield. Fewer people meant fewer casualties. Should I try to persuade them?
No. Judging by the serious light in their eyes, they’d already made their decision.
”Then I’ll leave the land route to you,” I said.
The plan would change. Infiltration would become an assault—but we’d gain time.
I shared the revised strategy via a mental image. It’s a form of silent empathy that only those who’ve shared pleasure can understand.
”I see,” Claire said. “In any case, infiltration would’ve been impossible with those guys around.”
She pointed toward the sky.
Far above the Demon Lord’s main base, I spotted tiny dots—like grains of mustard.
”What are those? They weren’t there a second ago.”
Searching is one of my few strong suits.
I activated Radar Scan—there was a faint but certain ping.
Had I missed them earlier? Careless. At a time like this?
I raised my binoculars. It wasn’t a spirit—it was a physical form. A humanoid with wings. Gargoyle-like.
They weren’t using any Stealth-type skills.
”The Demon Lord’s playing their trump card,” Mistrena said. “Those things are good sentries.”
Advanced spirits like Mistrena have knowledge stretching back before the World Tree. Assuming they haven’t forgotten.
Unknown entities? Maybe they’ve never been named. Let’s just call them gargoyles.
”I wonder if Curse of the Sky works on gargoyles?” I asked.
”It works, but even if they fall, they won’t be hurt,” Mistrena replied. “They’re just a lower-tier pixie.”
”So they’re that small? I got tricked by their silhouette and assumed they were huge. My bad.”
In my head, gargoyles were goblin-sized.
”You’re terrible at staying tense,” Ms. Nina muttered, narrowing her eyes.
She still looked cute, even while glaring daggers at me.
Pixie-level flight… That’s a pain. Tiny scouts dotting the sky.
Should I unleash Curse of the Sky and bring them all down? But that’d give away our position instantly.
A strong enemy isn’t the real threat—it’s the clever ones.
This must be the Demon Lord’s trump card. Makes sense.
”If we’re going to be spotted anyway,” I said, “why not raise the military flag and storm in? Reverse strategy.”
”If we could do that, we’d have done it already,” Nina said dryly.
Even the Conqueror King hasn’t given up on negotiations. He keeps sending envoys. Not one has come back. Not even a corpse.
They’ve all been taken alive.
”If those gargoyles have a Wall Barley allergy, we might still be able to move as planned.”
Just one whiff of Wall Barley dust and they’d be useless for hours.
”If it’s about the wind, I can adjust it somewhat,” Mistrena offered.
Even a wind spirit can’t fully control the breeze. Just predicting it is already huge.
I simulate it in my head. Flying gargoyles—too many variables. Even one left standing could become the Demon Lord’s eyes.
Wait. A reverse strategy.
”Let’s show the Demon Lord how invincible we are,” I said. “That might make him want to talk.”
If he’s sports-minded, that’ll work. He’ll at least be curious—These guys are interesting.
Anyway, the gods are probably watching us…
”That sounds interesting!” Claire said, eyes bright.
Claire was clearly excited.
”I’ll give this to Claire,” I said, handing her a training lance made from walnut wood—a gift from a Dwarf.
”It’s light and easy to handle,” she said, giving it a test swing. “Are you planning to stick with no-kill methods?”
”No,” I replied, tightening my grip on the shaft. “The blade might get stuck, so it’s better if I just knock aside anyone in the way.”
I’d made several during woodworking practice. The material was solid—walnut rarely splintered. Good wood could beat cheap steel any day.
Feeling Nina’s gaze on me, I pulled out a wooden shield from my early training and offered it to her. Her specialized equipment was stronger, sure—but this wasn’t about firepower.
For Mistrena, I handed over a boomerang. A difficult weapon, one that demanded finesse. She smiled.
Mission accomplished.
Small conflicts often sparked from the pettiest seeds.
* * *
The sun dipped low, dyeing the sky orange.
Perfect timing.
Against humans, a night raid or dawn ambush would’ve worked. But orcs and goblins had night vision. I picked twilight—when wariness waned and shadows softened.
The fading light gilded the world in gold. My favorite hour. The scene begged to be captured.
Not like filming a movie. More like staging a play. Since we couldn’t guess how the gods viewed things, the best we could do was ensure nothing looked off from any angle.
I stored Ms. Nina and Claire in the magic bag and swapped them out for the Indra Gun, firing special rounds skyward one by one.
With all of Stargazer’s skills, calculating trajectories wasn’t hard. Still, mistakes weren’t an option—tension coiled in my gut.
The rounds were canisters filled with Wall Barley powder. Once the rear propeller rotated enough times, the lid would pop. They resembled stubby torpedoes.
Not that anyone here knew what a torpedo was.
The “propeller” was just a counter, really—no propulsion. In fact, it added drag. I needed to be careful not to confuse the Mind Communication skill with sloppy naming.
Simple plan: release smoke, run the corridor.
The smoke wasn’t dense enough to blind, but for Wall Barley-allergic orcs and goblins, it would sting like hell.
Inhumane? Probably. But sometimes the greater good crushed the lesser comforts.
I went first, alone, riding the Hover Shield straight over the canal.
Sliding down the ramp, I accelerated—then launched.
Here we go! I shouted silently.
The Hover Shield had improved. The body itself was nearly silent now. Still, the wind it stirred across water and land made noise. Future problem.
Mistrena hovered close above, watching over me. The Curse of the Sky didn’t affect wind spirits.
But was it even magic? It triggered easier than most household spells—even kids could use it.
Yet its effect was immense: unlimited range, randomized tremors. If we had it on Earth, even missiles would’ve been useless.
And calling it a curse felt off. My theory? Maybe it invoked a powerful curse using only basic magic.
Whatever it was, I was grateful for Mistrena. As an Advanced spirit, her strength might surpass even a demon king’s.
That said, spirits didn’t interfere with the gods’ entertainment. Maybe they were gods?
Above, the gargoyles shifted formation. They’d noticed us.
The orcs across the canal hadn’t reacted yet.
No attacks came as I landed on the far side.
I pulled Claire from the magic bag and vaulted onto her back.
The first smoke round burst right on cue. A gentle tailwind helped it along.
White umbrellas of powder opened one by one. It looked like fireworks.
Claire charged through the forming corridor of smoke. So far, no resistance.
Then—screams.
More than expected.
At this rate, we’re the villains.
Drums and bells pounded from deeper in. Amid chaos, the Demon King began to rally. So much for slipping through unnoticed.
A huge orc with an axe blocked the path.
Claire slid her lance, deflecting the weapon like she’d rehearsed it, and sped past.
”Impressive,” I muttered.
An Orc Lord, maybe? His face was a mess—tears, snot, the works. He hadn’t even tapped into ten percent of his power.
Above, the gargoyles began targeting the smoke rounds, firing bursts of magic.
If they were like pixies, they could use spells.
Pixies leaned toward wind and lightning, but these gargoyles? Definitely fire-based.
Fire? That gave me a bad feeling.
”Claire! Wind barrier!” I shouted.
A high-pitched whine.
Then impact.
I hit the ground hard. Pain—sharp, burning. Not as bad as I expected. Which was…worrying.
I didn’t know what hit me, but I had a guess.
I used Dragon God’s Herb on Claire, sprawled beside me, then dosed myself.
As long as it wasn’t instant death, the herb would heal everything. Basically a cheat item.
But I couldn’t fix my gear. If this kept up, I’d be facing the Demon King in my underwear.
Dust explosions—unpredictable, hard to trigger on purpose. And now, of course, they were going off nonstop.
Were the gargoyles idiots? They kept spamming fire magic, even though they were catching themselves in the blasts.
The Curse of the Sky still worked—barely. I dipped in altitude, wobbled, then recovered.
If it was just one enemy, I might be able to slam them to the ground again and again. They’d crash, sure, but probably not fatally.
With the gargoyles busy blowing themselves up, maybe we could ignore them? Except…we were getting caught in it too.
Without the Wall Barley debuff, there’s no way we could’ve broken through.
Dust explosions weren’t all bad.
But this whole scene—honestly, it looked like a slapstick farce. The gods must’ve been howling.
More rounds fired.
Turns out gargoyles were allergic to Wall Barley too. I aimed higher this time. Maybe a broader cloud would work better?
I should’ve designed an adjustable propeller speed. A proximity fuse? Give me six months—I could build one.
Why didn’t I think of that back in Uno’s nest?
Ah! A sudden inspiration.
I shoved my favorite fountain pen into the magic bag and pulled out an unfamiliar pouch of ammo.
Loaded it.
Fired.
It exploded near a flight of gargoyles. They inhaled deeply—then dropped, reeling and gagging.
The magic bag’s principle: it’s a time tunnel. It links me to my future self. No reaching backward.
Time only flows forward, after all.
But the tunnel was open now. Could I just…push myself into it?
Regardless, my future self did a fantastic job.
Before the dust could explode, I’d neutralized the gargoyles.
Still, no time to relax. If the fire spirits decided to join the fun, we were toast.
* * *
”Is that the Demon King’s… castle?” Claire asked, shielding her eyes.
After chain-chugging Dragon God’s Herb, our destination finally came into view.
That had to be the Demon King’s main camp—on the move.
Claire thought it was a castle?
To me, it looked more like an airship.
Not a teardrop-shaped one, either—more like a floating tissue box.
It even had a steering fin.
Instead of a gondola, it dangled a massive carriage.
Wait—was that Emperor Totoana’s legendary forty-horse carriage? Had they stolen it?
No way that thing could roll on normal roads.
So—airship?
Probably too heavy to fly outright, but buoyancy lifting force must offset the weight.
If the carriage stayed grounded, it’d avoid sky curse targeting.
I knew what they were doing.
I’d even dreamed up a similar design once.
Which meant I knew its weaknesses, too.
”Mistrena,” I said, “gently stir the wind from the side. Just a little.”
”Sure, sounds fun!” she said, beaming.
White smoke drifted across the meadow.
Tiny Wall Barley particles swirled over the still-green stalks.
A nasal, panicked voice barked orders. The orcs gripped their ropes, trying to steer.
Even an ogre joined the scramble—face covered in mucus.
”Ah, the airship can rotate,” I noted. “Like a weathervane.”
”We almost flipped it,” Mistrena said, eyes wide.
”No need to go that far. We came here to talk, remember?”
As Mistrena released her hold on the wind, the breeze shifted—naturally this time.
”Ah.”
The entire airship tilted, dragging carriage and orcs along as it slid through the meadow.
Was that our fault?
Nah.
Just natural wind.
Swear on the gods.
The problem with aircraft lighter than air?
They’re wind-vulnerable.
Buoyancy demanded surface area—and surface area caught wind.
That’s why they went extinct on Earth.
”Ah, no!”
When Mistrena blows the wind in the opposite direction, a bigger disaster happens. She probably didn’t mean any harm, but that was pretty awful.
As a comedy skit, this is top-tier. I almost felt like I saw a vision of the gods laughing their heads off.
”Stop iiiit!!”
A small figure jumps down from the carriage and starts running toward us. It’s a high-pitched voice. Sounds like a girl.
Notes:
• El – She is a giant woman, appeared as Saburou’s captor, living alone in a large tent, skilled in hunting and cooking, proposes marriage to Saburou.
• Ms. Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Nina – Doll Princess (Auroora 217), renamed by the protagonist. Beautiful blonde, ~168 cm, slim waist. Wears adventurer attire. Made from artificial parts and wooden limbs, resembling a princess. Knowledgeable, can read, write, and use basic healing magic. Reliable partner, often saves the protagonist with her skills.
• Shirakaba – A paladin who seems to be a skilled fighter. He’s introduced as someone with a strong defense and healing abilities.
• Tizzy – Claims to be Duke’s daughter, a noble with advanced magic skills. MC and Ms. Shirakaba lover.
• Ra – The blue-skinned Demon King; a self-proclaimed scientist and explorer whose spaceship crash-landed; fights with childish enthusiasm.
• Yakou – A newly created kunoichi spirit with high specs from Mubiel. She pledges loyalty to the Narrator as her ‘Lord Shogun’ and seeks to punish villains.
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
• Mistrena – Wind spirit, wears hotpants and is quiet; mysterious but included among potential wives.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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