Calypsophobia.
It was the official follow-up made by the same developers who had created Psychedelia, the game Alon used to love playing, but it was not a game he had ever played himself.
That was why, when he had first heard the name Contanias, all that came to mind was what Evan had told him. Nothing more.
But now, in this moment, after hearing the absurd words that had come out of him, fragmented memories about Contanias finally began surfacing in Alon’s mind.
'Contanias, traitor to the Empire.'
Of course, he did not know under what circumstances Contanias had come to be called a traitor to the Empire.
He had never played Calypsophobia in the first place.
Still, he had been infamous on the community boards as a character people cursed out for his vile mouth.
Even Alon, who had never played Calypsophobia, had read posts about him once or twice.
'......I’m pretty sure they said that, based on the way he talked alone, he sounded less like an imperial prince and more like some street thug......?'
Certainly, even now, his tone itself was old-fashioned, but the way he actually spoke hardly felt like pure fantasy nobility, so Alon found himself staring at Contanias anew.
And as he looked back at Alon, the corner of Contanias’s mouth twisted upward in a sneer.
At that moment—
Snap!
With the sound of fingers snapping, Contanias, who had been standing there just a second ago, vanished without a trace.
It happened so suddenly that Alon, bewildered, turned his head to the side.
“My apologies.”
The mask, which had been standing beside him watching Contanias hurl abuse, lowered its head.
“......What just happened?”
“It seemed an unnecessary fight was about to break out, so I sent him back.”
“......You can do that?”
“Yes. At least inside the tower, it is possible.”
While Alon was still marveling at the mask’s answer—
Thud! Thud-thud-thud-thud!
footsteps began ringing out from far away.
In an instant, they drew close.
And there was Contanias, charging toward them at a speed that could not possibly belong to an ordinary human.
'......So he really isn’t normal.'
He was clearly more skilled than any average knight.
Alon watched him come at them with a vicious expression.
But—
Snap!
Once again, fingers snapped, and Contanias disappeared.
A shriek followed right after.
...At that point, Alon briefly found himself thinking, Doesn't he have some kind of anger management problem?
Then he looked at the mask.
“But is it really fine to do that?”
“What do you mean?”
“......Contanias.”
Just from looking at him, he seemed like an utterly spoiled wreck, but at this point in time, with the Empire split into four, Contanias was still the Emperor of the Northern Empire.
Naturally, Alon had his concerns. But—
“The Seeker does not wish for the defeated kings to fight. If that is the case, then it is my duty to prevent unnecessary conflict.”
“......Though for that, it seems rather extreme.”
“If I did not, it seemed inevitable that he would cause trouble.”
The mask remained perfectly calm.
Either way, it seemed thorough in the way it handled things.
Alon felt the curiosity he had shoved aside about the Seeker begin to rise again.
'What exactly is the Seeker?'
The Seeker.
Maybe Calypsophobia had mentioned it, but in Psychedelia, the Seeker’s Contract had only seemed like a tease for a sequel or DLC, so there had been no way to know anything about the Seeker.
And according to what Nangwon had told him ➤ NоvеIight ➤ (Read more on our source) on the way here, this place had appeared one day out of nowhere.
“Anyway, I apologize for making you go through that.”
Lost in thought, Alon came back to himself at the sound of the voice.
The mask was bowing its head.
Alon slowly waved a hand.
“It’s fine.”
“Thank you for your understanding. I do not believe today’s meeting will go well under the circumstances, so it would probably be best to leave it for another day.”
“Very well.”
It was time to return to his room under the skull mask’s guidance.
Several more days passed in the tower after that, but nothing had really changed yet.
Naturally, he had not been able to learn much of anything about the Seeker either.
From the moment Alon entered the tower until now, he had not seen the Seeker’s face even once.
As a result, Alon had essentially done nothing but wait for the appointed day with no real information, and as the date drew closer, he merely greeted the people who kept arriving at the tower one after another.
And then, after time passed, the day itself arrived.
“It is time.”
“Should I go?”
“Yes. It is time for everyone to gather.”
Without complaint, Alon followed the mask out.
“You’re here, Teacher.”
“So you’ve come, my lord.”
As soon as he entered the enormous conference chamber, familiar faces greeted him.
The first ones to catch his eye were Yutia and Siyan.
“Brother.”
“Ahem—welcome.”
Then Karsemm and Palmarian, as though they had been waiting for him, greeted him as well.
After lightly returning their greetings, Alon sat in the seat the mask guided him to.
He had already met and spoken with them over the past few days, after all.
...Though in Siyan’s case, she had arrived late last night, so they had not gotten the chance to talk.
When Alon looked at Siyan, she looked back at him.
Siyan wore a faint, unreadable smile.
After the brief exchange of glances, Alon casually turned his gaze and checked who was in the conference chamber.
'Only about half of the seats are filled.'
Aside from the people who had just greeted him, there were others present whom Alon did not know.
As his eyes swept over the room, he soon realized that the emperors of the various Empires had not arrived yet.
There was no sign of the bright platinum-blond hair that could be called the symbol of an imperial emperor.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the door across from where Alon sat opened, and a man walked in.
A man with bright platinum-blond hair shining brilliantly—someone who, no matter who looked at him, clearly seemed to carry imperial blood.
The instant he entered, the atmosphere in the conference room, which had at least been relatively calm until then, changed.
Among them, Yuman and Palmarian, who were seated with Yutia, as well as several others, either openly avoided the man’s gaze or looked at him with visible hostility.
The mood had changed far too abruptly.
But Alon was not flustered by this situation.
The truth was, he had expected it to some extent.
'I heard they look down on the other kings too, even among themselves.'
Alon had deliberately avoided the places where the kings gathered to get acquainted over the past few days, but he had still heard those rumors already.
So he had some idea of the situation and was not caught off guard.
The man who changed the air in the room the instant he appeared swept his eyes across the table with gentle-looking eyes unlike the others of imperial blood.
Then, the moment his gaze met Alon’s—
he broke into a bright smile.
Alon looked baffled at the sudden reaction, but the man paid that no mind. Without hesitation, he walked straight over to Alon.
“Hello, Mr. Alon.”
He greeted him with a smile so flawless it did not contain a single crease.
Alon stood up almost instinctively and took his hand as he replied,
“......Yes, i-it’s good to meet you.”
“Yes!”
“Though.......”
As Alon started to ask something, the puzzled man suddenly let out a small exclamation, as though he had just realized something.
“My apologies. I introduced myself too late.”
The bright smile on his face deepened—so suspiciously innocent that he seemed fundamentally different from all the others Alon had heard rumors about or met in person so far.
“My name is Nataman, and though I am lacking, I lead the Western Empire.”
He bowed his head as he said, “I look forward to working with you.”
The Emperor of the Western Empire.
'The Emperor of the Western Empire......? But I’m pretty sure I heard the Western Empire had fallen......?'
For an instant, Alon ran through the information in his head.
And as he looked at the bright, cheerful man before him, he felt a strange sense of incongruity.
Yes, incongruity.
As if he had seen that look somewhere before—
As Alon stared blankly at the emperor’s face, something flashed through his mind.
He realized it.
'......Elivan?'
That his smile looked strangely similar to Elivan’s.
And while Alon was caught in that sense of déjà vu—
Yutia’s crimson red eyes were silently fixed on Nataman.
Quietly.
And without a word.
Right after that, unfortunately, Alon did not get the chance to speak any further with Nataman, the Emperor of the Western Empire.
Because, along with the other fractured emperors of the Empire who entered after him,
[Everyone is here.]
as if it had been waiting for that exact moment, a figure appeared in the high seat that had been empty until just then.
'......The Seeker.'
Alon could not properly make out the Seeker’s form, even though it had appeared all at once.
Even in the tower’s light, where the Seeker’s appearance should have been clearly visible, it looked dark, as though submerged in pitch-black shadow.
And what was even stranger—
'......I can’t sense anything at all?'
—was that he could feel absolutely nothing from the Seeker.
At some point, Alon had become able to perceive traces of magical power, and because of that, even if a person was not actively using magic, he could still roughly gauge them as long as he could perceive them.
But with the Seeker, he could sense none of that.
As though it were not a living person at all.
And so, just as Alon felt an odd sense of tension—
[From this moment forward, the Seeker’s Contract will be carried out.]
the Seeker’s voice rang out.
[Excluding the fourteen rulers present here, the remaining thirty-three are judged to have abandoned their duty and will be stripped of the contract.]
[Those gathered here, meanwhile, are henceforth judged to be carrying out the Seeker’s Contract.]
[Beginning tomorrow, you will participate in the conference, and afterward, through proper procedure, you will divide and receive ‘power.’]
Having delivered that announcement in its uniquely heavy, solemn aura, the Seeker vanished in an instant without allowing so much as a single question.
“......What?”
“Is that it?”
Silence fell at once.
The moment the other kings muttered in confusion—
[That concludes the opening ceremony. We would appreciate it if you would participate in the conference beginning tomorrow.]
as if it had been prepared for this, the skull mask appeared and bowed politely.
Every attendee frowned.
Had they not all been summoned here in the middle of wartime, despite each of them being the head of a kingdom?
And yet this was all there was to it.
It felt as though their time had been wasted, so without exception, negative emotions showed on their faces.
But in the end, as though there was nothing to be done, they rose from their seats.
“......It seems it’s over, Brother.”
“Seems so.”
As Alon followed Yuman and started to rise as well—
“Hey. You there.”
a rude voice flew at him.
When Alon turned his head, there was Contanias, Emperor of the Northern Empire, glaring at him with obvious irritation written all over his face.
“What is it?”
When Alon asked, Contanias let out a disbelieving scoff.
“Do the idiots of the Allied Kingdoms not know what courtesy is?”
“......Not know courtesy?”
“Yes. If you’ve caused someone harm, isn’t it only natural to apologize?”
“Harm?”
“Yes. By sitting here in the same room, you’re making me this unpleasant.”
For a moment, Alon went blank.
The provocation was so absurdly blatant it bordered on the ridiculous.
And yet, absurdly enough, it was full of absolute sincerity.
Suddenly, Alon remembered a few days ago.
The same man who had hurled abuse at him and then been sent straight back to his room.
Thinking of that, Alon felt like he roughly understood what the bastard was getting at.
It was too annoying to even bother responding.
At that, the expressions on Yutia’s and Yuman’s faces behind him hardened too.
And at that moment—
Baaaam!
Contanias’s body flew through the air and slammed straight into the table.
Bang! Craaash! With a deafening string of noises, he rolled violently across the long table before finally smashing into the tower’s inner wall.
At the sight, Alon’s mouth fell open before he even realized it.
The violence had come far too suddenly.
Of course, that alone was shocking enough, but the real reason Alon was stunned was—
“Brother? You really shouldn’t talk like that.”
the fact that Nataman, the Emperor of the Western Empire—
the same man who had been smiling so warmly when he spoke to Alon earlier—
...had just caved in Contanias’s face.
“Hmm?”
And he had done it with a chilling smile on his face.
Of course, apart from all that, only a single thought completely filled Alon’s head.
What the hell is happening here......?

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