Otherworld TRPG Game Master

I don't mind breaking the skull of a human piece of trash. But the cleanup afterward requires a bit more thought.

“Should we just drive him out of town, give him a stern warning to never show his face again?”

“How did she ever fall for someone like him...? If only he’d been a decent person, it could’ve been a happy dilemma.”

A sigh escaped me.

Fortunately, I’d already completed the recording and video capture spells, so we had more than enough evidence. There were numerous ways to convince the elves of his foul scheme and his manipulation of love.

As long as her reaction isn’t something like, ‘Romeo would never do that’ or ‘Despite everything, I still love Romeo’.

Emotional matters are tricky that way.

From an outsider’s perspective, the choice is glaringly obvious. But when emotions tip the scales, even the clearest answer can become obscured.

If, despite the threat he poses to the entire wild elf community, the client elf says something like, “Even if his love isn’t real, I love him, so we’ll make it work somehow...”

Should I respect her feelings? Or should I put my foot down and say, “This will harm you. It needs to end here.”

I glanced at Selvia, who was also deep in thought, her face still tinged with the residual flames of anger. She’s a pure soul who reacts passionately, even to someone else’s love story.

Seeing her, I had my answer.

It had to end. Relationships rooted in deception are inherently unstable.

The notion of someone with impure intentions realizing true love and achieving a happy ending... only a puppet master manipulating reality could achieve such an improbable outcome.

Moreover, if that slim chance at a happy ending fails, everyone is left with nothing but pain. It’s better to end this quickly.

“We’ll cut him out. Now, the question is how to go about it. Should we drive him away and explain the situation, or just say he disappeared?”

Though I asked, I already knew what Selvia’s answer would be.

“We have to tell her, of course!”

“Just to ask, but why?”

“Because it’s pain she needs to experience. This could happen again, and to make the right choice next time, she needs to go through it.”

“I agree.”

It’s an old philosophy of ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) trials through hardship.

The saying ‘What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger’ holds true. Better she face it now, so she’s ready if another bad guy comes along.

With our stance decided, Selvia cast her gaze downward, her expression growing somber.

“...They were supposed to have a date tomorrow, weren’t they? The elf and that man.”

“Yeah. I’m sure she was looking forward to it.”

“But we’ll be giving her news of heartbreak instead. Not that I disagree! It’s just... sad, you know? But we still have to do it.”

“...Yes.”

Indeed, it was something that had to be done.

And as soon as possible.

The wild elf looked as though her world had collapsed.

“...Are you saying Romeo... did that?”

“Yes. Even aside from the recent improvements in the mental link system... continuing this relationship isn’t a wise choice.”

“That’s impossible. Romeo... he was so passionate with me...”

Wordlessly, I held out the recording. The elf played it over and over, finally accepting the truth. Her face, stained with betrayal and hurt, was soon streaked with tears.

“...I suppose... that’s the end of it. My request has been fulfilled.”

And so ended the letter she’d sent to the academy, a hollow conclusion.

Selvia and I accompanied the heartbroken elf back into the elf forest. The path through the trees, familiar from before, led us into the elf village, where distant chatter filtered through the leaves.

“There’s a human! A human with a sobbing Juliet!”

“It’s the crow human! Don’t look him in the eye... you might end up pregnant!”

Though there was some commotion, no arrows flew, and no one blocked my path. They must have known I was here for mental link maintenance.

It was only natural. With their minds connected daily, everyone would know of my arrival.

I reached the central sapling of the World Tree.

It’s always... somewhat eerie, with patches of blue and stringy, web-like fibers hanging from it. It looks like it would deal poison damage if touched.

I placed my hand on it. I felt the sapling writhe as it extended intangible roots toward me. Closing my eyes, I concentrated, extending my mana and establishing a connection with its core.

“If anything happens, keep guard, Selvia.”

“Leave it to me, big brother.”

Plunge.

With the sensation of diving beneath a surface, my mana perception began reconstructing the structure of the World Tree and the elf village, presenting a vision of an intricate, interwoven network.

Looking deeper... the Succubus Queen had built nests from linked dreams; what substance had bound these elves together?

“... ...”

“...Big brother?”

Then, I found the answer.

It was my first time witnessing the actual form of the elves’ mental link. The Mad Crow had only ever manipulated it; I’d never experienced it directly.

Now, seeing it firsthand, I understood the sense of unease. After re-evaluating multiple times, I shared my findings with Selvia.

“Transformation manifests by dyeing the soul with emotion. This means... the soul serves as a channel for emotions. It’s essentially an emotional conductor.”

“Why bring up Transformation...?”

“What I mean is, the wild elves weren’t merely sharing emotions and memories. They were connecting their souls directly. Emotions... were only secondary, spreading naturally through the connection.”

“Wait, so what does that mean?”

Not much. But with a little suspicion, the story changes.

This is where the conspiracy theory begins. It’s hypothetical. Let’s assume:

If I were truly a sinister bastard, I could use the World Tree, the control tower of all mental links, to broadcast trauma to the elf community.

If one elf were to experience shattering heartbreak, the pain would radiate throughout the group. Ironically, in this case, pain would multiply upon sharing.

The wild elf group would suffer, and eventually, one of them might awaken to Transformation by imbuing their soul with emotion. That individual’s experience would then feed back and spread to the other elves.

It wouldn’t matter whether each individual awakened Transformation. I’d link them serially. Picture the elf community as a single massive soul. The wild elves’ ritual of grafting their souls together enables this.

“...You’re saying the wild elves could activate a ‘collective Transformation’?”

“Exactly.”

An elf collective like that would have a soul output on an entirely different scale. With so much soul power, they’d be much stronger than individual Transformation users.

But things wouldn’t unfold so smoothly. If it were possible to utilize another’s Transformation simply by connecting souls, I would’ve borrowed Yuri’s Transformation when I fought the Succubus Queen.

Of course, it doesn’t work that way—there are consequences.

“Based on rough calculations, a ‘collective Transformation’ would tear their souls apart. Imagine it’s like... lining up thirty people and stitching their hearts together. Then, forcing their hearts to beat fast. You see?”

The implications of the elves’ nature left a deep sense of wrongness within me.

Summing it up: they’re strangely vulnerable to mental attacks and magic. This makes it easy to control them as a group with something as simple as love. And, under certain conditions, they could become a highly destructive, expendable biological force...

They’re closer to a war weapon than to a natural life form.

It had always struck me as odd. Wild elves are so ambiguous. Neither a collective nor individuals. The individual elves differ in appearance and personality, yet through mental link, they forcibly maintain hive-like traits.

Why would that be necessary? If they had developed naturally, there’d be no reason for such a massive security flaw.

But if they were designed this way on purpose, it makes sense. Built to be flawed. There’s an artificial touch to them.

“... ...”

“Whether or not this conspiracy theory is true, now that I’ve uncovered it, the wild elves’ security vulnerability will be fixed.”

I would insert a toggleable partition between their connected souls.

They’ll feel emotions, but those won’t permeate their souls. Their joys and sorrows will be processed at a level akin to reading a comic book.

If a deeper understanding is necessary, they’ll be able to voluntarily open the soul partition. With just this kind of selective firewall, they’ll be shielded from any uncontrollable emotional surges.

“In addition, the wild elf society itself needs some structural adjustments. Perhaps a designated judge to make impartial decisions, or a licensing system where only strong-minded individuals can open their partitions.”

I began installing partitions, lining the connections between souls and establishing similar partitions within the World Tree sapling. It was a complex task, but I’m the Mad Wizard, after all.

After about half a day, the World Tree patch was complete.

As we returned, the sky was awash in a brilliant sunset. With just the right amount of clouds, it wasn’t blinding, allowing me to fully enjoy the sun’s beauty.

Selvia and I walked side by side along the forest path.

She looked tense, her gait clumsy and her gaze flitting anxiously. She knew it—I was about to give her an answer.

I had thought long and hard. Emotional matters are always difficult.

From an outsider’s view, the choice is often clear. But as soon as emotions tip the scales, even the wrong answer can become right.

So I...

“...plan to turn you down.”

“... ...”

I told Selvia what I’d been thinking, hoping it might bring her some solace.

There was one reason I was turning down Selvia’s confession.

Relationships that start on a shaky foundation are bound to be unstable.

“I still haven’t received the memory from the ‘Promise.’ It’s closely tied to ‘that’ in my mind, which means the memories we shared are bound together indefinitely.”

“I know. I’ve heard it. But—”

“I don’t have the memories needed to reciprocate your feelings. How can I build a relationship on a past I can’t even remember?”

A house built on sand will eventually collapse. Selvia might be chasing the “big brother” who saved her childhood, but I can’t be that person.

She tries to convey her love, but the emotions I’m meant to feel remain locked behind a veil of forgotten memories. To me, Selvia is not a childhood friend but a student, and we’re looking in opposite directions.

“And... I’ll recover those memories eventually, but honestly, there’s no telling when. It could take ten years, or a hundred.”

“I don’t mind—”

“I don’t want to see you hurting anymore. I can’t be your ‘big brother.’”

Isn’t that cruel?

Continuing to play the role of her brother without any memory, making her wait indefinitely, carrying on like that.

Selvia stopped abruptly. I took a few more steps before halting. I didn’t look back.

“I said I’d burn only for you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember. Somehow... I’ll have you for myself!”

“That’s why I chose to cut it off.”

Should I respect her feelings, or should I say this would hurt her and end it?

I chose the latter.

People who are empathetic are typically sensitive to emotions. Selvia is a kind person who gets angry at the romantic misfortunes of others.

So just imagine how much pain she must have felt, how hard she’s tried, believing that this time, she could be by my side. Her heart must ache each time she realizes I remember none of it.

Heartbreak is a momentary pain. But endless false hope casts a shadow over an entire life. To respond to her love... I don’t feel the same. That’s why I chose to turn her down.

“...Honestly, I just see you as a cute little sister.”

“...Hey!!”

A punch landed on my back. It was a weak punch, barely any force behind it.

I stood there quietly until the sniffles behind me faded. Then, in a casual tone, I suggested,

“Should we pick up some dessert on the way back? There was a bakery that smelled amazing when we were tailing Romeo.”

“... ...”

“Or we could blow off some steam at a fancy restaurant...”

“I’m not giving up.”

I turned to face Selvia, just as an indescribable, sharp pain shot through my shin. She’d kicked me.

“Ugh...”

As I hunched down, clutching my leg, she raised her voice above me.

“I don’t care what you say. I’m not giving up. You don’t remember the past? You can’t be my big brother? Then fine, professor. Is that good enough?!”

“... ...”

“—But I’m still not giving up on love.”

With fierce strides, she marched past me. Yet, for some reason, the ground looked as if it had been soaked in rain.

My mind felt cluttered, as if tangled with fur. I couldn’t tell if I’d made the right choice. But one thing was clear—my wish for her to be unharmed remained unwavering.

What on earth does she see in someone like me that makes her try so hard?

Quietly, I walked in her footsteps.

In the mental realm of the Mad Wizard...

Swaying in a chair before a black dome, the “Promise” gazed regretfully at a sky filled with raging thunder and lightning.

Not knowing one’s memories is like a card turned face-down. With no way to see it now, the Mad Wizard had bet on turning her down.

“It might have been better not to...”

If he had known the card was an ace, wouldn’t the story have been different?

However, even if bonds twist and break momentarily, they don’t disappear. When the time comes, emotions will find their rightful place. And so, the “Promise” waited for another day.