Chapter 33: The Ghost in the Bronze Mirror
The corridors of Castello di San Vigilio were silent, save for the rhythmic clanking of Julian's own spurs against the stone. He had just secured a Queen, outmaneuvered a Hero, and stabilized a frontier. By every metric of the game Imperium: Total Conquest, he was playing a perfect run.
But as he reached his private solar, Julian stopped. He didn't light the candles. He didn't call for a servant. He walked toward a heavy, polished bronze mirror hanging on the far wall.
In the dim moonlight, a young man stared back. Silver-blonde hair, sharp aristocrat's cheekbones, and eyes that held the cold, steady gaze of a predator.
"Who the hell are you?" Julian whispered.
The face in the mirror didn't flinch. It remained perfectly, terrifyingly composed.
'I'm losing it,' he thought, a cold sweat breaking out under his gambeson. 'I'm pulling a Zilgon from Overlord. I'm turning into an undead in a living body.'
He thought back to the courtesan house in Milan. The old him—the real him—would have been a vibrating mess of nerves and excitement. He would have been cracking jokes to hide his heartbeat. But the "Julian" who stood there had been a machine of pure efficiency. He hadn't seen a woman; he had seen a source of "Tier-2 Intelligence." He hadn't bought a person's freedom; he had "acquired a strategic asset."
"I understand them now," Julian muttered, a self-mocking smirk twisting his lips. "All those isekai edgelords I used to laugh at in my streams. I thought they were just poorly written. I didn't realize that when the world tries to crush you, the first thing that breaks is your ability to feel the weight."
The Boy from the Screen
Julian turned away from the mirror, unable to look at that "perfect" noble face any longer. He grabbed the reins of a horse from the stables, ignoring the confused bow of the night watchman, and rode out toward the river that cut through the valley of San Vigilio.
He found a gnarled oak tree near the water's edge, a flat stone sitting beneath its roots like a natural altar. He sat, the cold of the stone seeping through his breeches, and closed his eyes.
He didn't search for "Julian von Andechs-Merania." He reached deeper.
He reached for Kaito Arisawa.
He remembered the smell of stale energy drinks and the hum of a dual-monitor setup. He remembered the blue light of the screen at 3:00 AM while he streamed the "Peasant Challenge"—taking the weakest, most pathetic factions in grand strategy games and grinding them into empires. He had spent 2,000 hours on the Andechs-Merania route specifically because it was the "Trash Tier" start.
"I died for this," Kaito whispered into the Italian night. "Exhaustion. Heart failure after finally hitting the 'Universal Emperor' ending. I beat the AI... and then the AI claimed my life."
He imagined his modern self—the otaku with messy hair and a sarcastic streak—standing by the river. He reached out a hand in his mind, touching the shoulder of the boy he used to be. For a moment, the two souls twisted together, the cold efficiency of the Viscount clashing with the chaotic, terrified humanity of the gamer.
The System's Confession
[System Notification: Synchronization Error.]
[Status: Julian... or Kaito. You're making the processors run hot. Stop thinking. It's inefficient.]
"You did this, didn't you?" Kaito asked aloud, his voice cracking for the first time in weeks. "You muted me. You turned down the 'humanity' dial so I could win."
[System: I did not remove your personality, Kaito Arisawa. I simply stopped reminding you of the consequences. In the 'Peasant Challenge,' if you hesitate, you lose. I merely ensured you never hesitated. You wanted to survive; I gave you the mind of a survivor.]
"I don't want to be a skeleton in a skin-suit," Kaito snapped. "I want to be able to laugh at a joke without calculating its political value. I want to look at Emilia and see my wife, not a 'Support Pillar of House Schwarzberg'."
[System: ...Understood. The 'Efficiency Filter' is being recalibrated. Warning: This will result in increased emotional pain, fear of death, and potential strategic blunders. Do you accept?]
"Accept," Kaito said, his eyes stinging. "Give me back my soul. I'll handle the blunders."
The Human Anchor
[Condition Updated: The Soul's Tether.]
[Status: Humanity Restored (40%).]
[Immediate Trigger: The Burial.]
The System didn't give him a quest with a golden reward. It gave him a feeling. A crushing, heavy sense of guilt for the King of Naples—not as a political move, but as a man who had lost his life while Julian sat in a tent and waited for the "right time" to move.
He stood up, his legs shaking slightly. He felt... tired. Not the fatigue of a soldier, but the bone-deep weariness of a human being.
"Kaito Arisawa," he said to the river. "You were a history buff and a streamer. You liked cheap ramen and hated arrogant NPCs. Don't let the Viscount kill the Gamer."
He walked back to his horse, a small, genuine laugh escaping his lips—a jagged, rusty sound. He thought about Valerius and the courtesan house.
"If I go back there now," he chuckled to himself, "I'd probably be too nervous to even look Isabella in the eye. Great. My 'cool protagonist' buff is gone, and I'm back to being a socially awkward strategist."
As he rode back to the fortress, he saw the torches of the watchmen. He saw the banners of the Queen of Naples fluttering in the wind. The world was still dangerous. The Spanish were still coming. Albrecht was still a threat.
But as Julian—Kaito—passed through the gates, he didn't look for the "optimal path." He looked at the stars and felt a cold breeze on his face. He felt like he was finally, truly, in the world he was trying to save.
"Alright, System," he muttered as he dismounted. "No more meta-gaming. Let's see if a human can win this 'Peasant Challenge' without losing his mind."
[System: Final Warning—The Queen of Naples is currently crying in the West Wing. Her favorability is high, but your 'Humanity' is now active. If you go to her now, you won't be able to stay cold. Prepare for 'Feelings', Kaito. They're worse than Spanish fire-magic.]
To be continued...