Extra's Descent-Chapter 215: Proposal [1]
"Huh?"
Ciel was perplexed as she stared at the tome.
It didn't disintegrate, nor did the system break.
"....Something went wrong."
And so, she opened the tome, the pages flipping instantaneously towards a certain page.
——[Sovereign's Will]——
[Name: Brandon Locke]
[Mana Core: Tier 5]
[Status: A]
[Innate]
∟ Sovereign of Creation — Level 8
∟ Experience — 31.5%
[Skills]
∟]Elemental Manipulation
∟]Mana Disruption
∟]Accelerated Cognition
∟]Mana Burst — Timer: 1 Hour.
∟]Mage's Resolve
∟]Aeolus Blessing
[Inventory]
———————————
"There's nothing wrong…."
How could this be?
With everything she had set up, especially by the fact that she had chased Lumian out of the city, Brandon should've encountered him by now.
By now, Brandon should've struggled, losing a part of himself in the process.
And in the process, Belle would arrive and…
…..Her death would be cemented.
Due to that fact, Brandon would sacrifice everything to try and revive her.
In particular…..
"His Sovereign's Will…."
But it wouldn't work as the Sovereign's Will wouldn't allow itself to be sacrificed like that.
For that reason, his connection to the Sovereign's Will would grow faulty, and Jin could easily take him over anytime.
With all the instability surrounding him, Brandon would have no choice but to rely on Ciel.
But….
"There's no cracks in his system…."
Undoubtedly something went wrong.
"Tsk."
Ciel clicked her tongue.
Either was able to retreat safely, or….
"No."
Ciel shook her head.
"He couldn't have beaten Lumian. It's impossible. I can see his status, and he's too weak for that low blooded half–Wraith."
What went wrong….?
Ciel could never tell.
Not unless Brandon tells her himself.
Good thing she had made a good first impression on him.
"As long as he trusts me…."
Then there were plenty more opportunities to break him.
***
"Ah, Brandon. Great timing, we were just about to eat."
Approaching the group, Brandon emerged from the bushes. There, he could see Amelia—seated by the campfire, Carl and Aurelia—seated on opposite sides.
"Oh? Stew?"
"How did you know?"
"Just a hunch."
He shrugged his shoulders.
Amelia narrowed her eyes and scanned his hand—in particular—the gloves he was wearing.
"Feeling cold?"
"Ah. Yeah."
With a casual movement, Brandon tucked his hands into his pockets nonchalantly, approaching Amelia.
Sitting beside her, Brandon turned his head and looked at her intently.
Amelia seemed to have felt his gaze as she looked back at him.
"What's wrong?"
"How do you feel about the Imperial Army?"
"...."
Amelia seemed to have been taken aback by his question as she paused.
After all, Brandon could quite guess her inner turmoils.
"You want to quit the Army, right?"
"...How did you know?"
Brandon shrugged his shoulders at her question.
He continued.
"You want to become a full fledged ranker, right? To explore the world. To be free."
"...."
"But at the same time, you want to serve the army to salvage your father's reputation."
"...."
"With two separate factions, one backing you up, while one is fully against you… It has you conflicted."
"....Stop."
Amelia whispered, barely audibly.
"You want to leave. Yet the same time, you don't want to let down the people who still harbor respect for your father."
"...."
Brandon had come to realize by now that Amelia Constantine wasn't as strong as she presented herself on the surface.
"Compartmentalization."
"...."
Her way of coping with everything that has happened.
'Due to my past dilemma, Amelia Constantine has projected herself into me, using me as an escape to push her issues aside.'
At first glance, it was an honorable thing to do.
'But prolonging it even further, adding to the fact of future issues ahead of her, then this woman would break eventually.'
The woman who seemed perfect at first glance, was actually the most fragile.
'You are a parasite who's too co–dependent on helping people resolve their issues, to further push your own internal issues aside.'
In turn, deluding herself that she was fixing her own inner turmoils, under the satisfaction of helping someone.
'She still sees me as a child, a little brother–in fact. What she should rely on is not the moral dilemmas of others, but on a sole person that's willing to listen to her.'
Belle may have been that person. But Amelia understood it would place even more burden on her best—friend.
After all, Amelia was never the type of person to rely on others.
She wanted to be perfect.
To appear perfect.
It was her father's teachings.
'And that is wrong.'
"But are you really sure you don't want to aspire for the Grand Marshal position…?"
"....That's not something for you to trouble yourself with. Come on, let's have dinner—"
As Amelia tried to get up, Brandon grabbed her wrist and she halted her words. However, she didn't look back at him.
It was for that reason, that Brandon stood up and gently grabbed her chin, turning her face close to his.
Staring deep into her blue eyes, Amelia seemed to have been taken aback as her eyes widened.
"Tell me, you want to live up to your father's legacy, right? In your heart, you want to become a daughter—Albert Constantine would be proud of."
"...."
She looked away.
Brandon leaned even closer, too close that he could hear her panicked breathing.
"You want to become a ranker as well. And it seems like it's the best choice for you. You're scared of someone eventually stabbing you in the back if you actually become the Grand Marshal."
After all, there was disdain towards Albert Constantine.
"In the process, the Constantine name would be tarnished, and your father would lose the respect he still had."
"....Please, shut up."
"Look me in the eye, Amelia, and tell me I'm wrong."
"Uhm, Brandon…"
Looking at them with panicked expressions, Carl suddenly chimed in.
Brandon turned his head slightly and flashed him a smile.
"Don't worry, Carl. Just continue your meal."
Then, he looked back at Amelia—who had a conflicted look on her face.
Eventually, she exploded.
"You're right. I can't deny it. Everything you said is correct. But what's it to you?! Why are you suddenly saying all this?!
"Because further down the line, you'll break. Relying on no one, never asking for help. It'll backfire on you eventually."
"So what?! That's not your problem!"
"Maybe not. You're right. It isn't my problem. I should just leave you alone."
"...."
"That's what you want me to say, right?"
"...."
She stayed quiet. The words seemed to be stuck in her tongue, unable to voice out her thoughts.
"Amelia Constantine. The Golden Child. The perfect daughter."
"Please, shut up…."
She quietly mumbled.
Brandon continued, staring deep into her blue eyes.
"Admired by everyone. She doesn't need any help. Her coping mechanism is to run away from her problems after all."
"Shut up…!"
"Hm? Isn't this what you want to hear?"
"...."
"Tell me what you really want."
"Then what do you suggest I do?!"
She screamed.
Brandon couldn't help his amusement as a smile spread across his features.
He had succeeded.
To fully break Amelia Constantine.
She was finally listening to him.
"Become the Grand Marshal."
He stated.
"...I don't want to."
"Are you sure?"
"...."
"Or are you just running away again?"
"Then what… If I become the Grand Marshal, I'll just fuck it up again just like my father."
Brandon was taken aback as Amelia suddenly cursed.
He had never heard her curse before.
But his words were finally reaching her.
But listening to her words, these were her real thoughts.
Undoubtedly, even Amelia was in the minority of the conflicted faction. The faction that took no side.
Was Albert Constantine in the wrong?
Or was he just a victim?
It was due to the phone call with her father back then that had left her conflicted.
The pride of a military man.
And that pride had sent a thousand of young and innocent soldiers to their deaths.
Suddenly, Brandon leaned close to her ear and whispered.
"Rely on me. I'll make you the greatest Grand Marshal this continent has ever seen."
"You aren't even in the army."
"You can vouch for me. My sister can vouch for me. And with my strength, I can easily become a General, a Field marshal, or whatever."
"Pftt…"
Amelia chuckled.
"You sound so confident in yourself."
"Maybe so. But it's that sheer confidence that had pushed the great Albert Constantine to the top and retained his position for years."
"I don't have that confidence."
"You do. You have it in you this whole time."
"...."
Suddenly, Brandon kneeled down on one knee and grabbed her hand.
"Will you accept my proposal, Amelia Constantine?"
"...Okay."
She whispered.
All of a sudden, he leaned close to her hand and pressed his lips against it.
"...."
Amelia's eyes widened in shock but she didn't look away.
Brandon pulled away and looked at her straight in the eye.
"Couldn't hear you."
"....I said okay."
"That's good enough for now."
If it all worked out, Amelia Constantine would become the Grand Marshal, having full control over the entire military power of the continent.
With this stunt of his, he had cemented himself as her close aide and confidant. Her assistant, and the person she would rely on the most.
And with that fact, Brandon would easily become the second most influential person on the continent.
"Kht."
Brandon held back his laugh.
His interest in Amelia had skyrocketed, the moment he had gained all of Brandon Locke's memories.
Not once in those memories was Amelia Constantine mentioned.
'So that begs the question.'
Who are you, Amelia Constantine?
Why do you have the Sovereign's Fragment?
What is your connection to the Sovereign?
Are you a friend, or a foe?
He had to keep her close.
With her influence backing him, Amelia Constantine was his only shot at breaking through the highest positions in the military.
But if she were an enemy, a threat to this world.
'Then I'll kill you myself.'
And in the end, he would become the Grand Marshal in her stead.