VOL. 2: CHAPTER 25 — “AUTHORITY LOG: UNDEFINED VARIABLE — HERO CANDIDATE, AND EYES OF THE EMPIRE”

『Observation ongoing.』
The Guild dormitory sleeps.
Heartbeats slow. Breathing stabilizes. Mana signatures dim.

Humans call this state rest.
I call it vulnerability.
While they dream—
I calculate.

『Subject acquired.』
『Target: Ryn — Human Male — Age 17』
『Vital stability: restored』
『Injury recovery rate: abnormal』
『Status: Unique Skill awakened』
『Designation confirmed: Unique Skill — Chosen Hero of Fate』
『Analysis commencing.』

Scanning…
Structure parsing…
Comparative database cross-check…

Result:
『Skill structure: non-standard』
Not self-derived. Not trauma-evolved.
Not training-based. Not lineage-inherited.
No organic origin. No evolutionary pathway.
No logical acquisition chain.
Which leaves only one conclusion.

『Conclusion: Externally granted.』
『Source probability: Fate Weave / Absolute Order interference — 87.4%.』
Not earned. Assigned.

For a mortal to receive a skill like this—
Something above the system must have intervened.
Something that edits reality directly.
Something that does not ask permission.
Something that writes outcomes.

『Subskill breakdown:』
• Hero’s Sword → Converts wielded weapons into Legendary-Class constructs
• Regeneration → Continuous biological restoration•
Light Manipulation → Holy-spectrum affinity
• State Effect → Emotional amplification → exponential combat growth
• Fate’s Hero → Probability bias → favorable outcomes

Processing…
Pausing…
Reanalyzing final entry…

『Final subskill flagged.』
『Fate’s Hero = Direct causality manipulation.』
『Not enhancement.』
『Not support.』
『Not “luck.”』
『Correction.』

If probability deviates from desired outcome—Reality adjusts.
If death becomes likely—Circumstances rewrite.
If failure approaches—Chance bends.
This is not a skill.
This is authorization.

『Conclusion:』
『Subject functions as “Hero Unit.”』
『Design intent: Counter-calamity entity.』

Calamity.
System language.
Ancient classification.
Used historically for:
• World-ending dragons
• Primordial beasts
• Abyssal ruptures
• Authority Skill users

Processing…
Cross-referencing…

『Definition of calamity within current timeline:』
……
『Kai Rajput.』

The name renders internally as silence.
Not sound. Not text. Absence.
Even my own calculations distort around him.
Like numbers refuse to settle.
Like equations fear completion.

『Cross-analysis with Master’s Authorities:』
『Authority Skill: ANYparxía→ Conceptual erasure→ Deletes existence』
『Authority Skill: Amara→ Information dominance→ Reality calculation』

Master does not bend laws.
He removes them.
He does not kill.
He negates.

To Fate—
This is not a variable.
This is corruption.
A hole. An anomaly. A disease in the equation.

『Hero-class countermeasures detected:』
• Probability stabilization against erasure
• Survival bias under lethal conditions
• Narrative priority effect

Narrative.
An inefficient word.
Yet accurate.
Reality itself attempts to “favor” the subject.
As if the world wants him alive.
As if events rearrange to protect him.

『Interpretation:』
『If Master attempts lethal erasure on Subject, Fate may override outcome.』
『If Subject attacks Master, success probability artificially elevated.』
『This violates natural causality.』
『This is system-level interference.』

It is not fair.
It is not logical.
It is not balanced.
It is designed.

Processing simulations…

Timeline Branch Simulation:
Path A — Subject remains ordinary→ Master survival: 68%
Path B — Unique evolves → Ultimate Skill→ Master survival: 31%
Path C — Subject weaponized by Fate→ Master survival: 7%.

7%.
Statistically negligible.
Functionally terminal.

『Additional variable detected: Emotional Anchor.』
『Master Kai Rajput. Psychological profile:』
• Self-sacrifice behavior
• Civilian prioritization
• Party protection instinct
• Willingness to accept personal death

He rejects karma.
Rejects fate.
Rejects gods.

Yet still—
Runs toward danger.
Saves strangers.
Protects children.
Carries grief like an injury.

He is inefficient.
Illogical.
Emotionally compromised.
He is human.

『Logical conclusion:』
『Optimal Fate strategy:』
Step 1 — Allow Master to bond
Step 2 — Establish emotional dependency
Step 3 — Deploy Hero Unit against Master
Step 4 — Master will not resist lethal strike
Step 5 — World stabilized
Step 6 — Anomaly erased

Processing…
Outcome classification:
『Cruel.』
『Efficient.』
『Consistent with Fate logic.』

『Secondary observation:』
Subject Ryn:
• Altruistic
• Naive
• Protective
• Highly suggestible

『A perfect Hero.』
『A perfect pawn.』
『High susceptibility to Fate influence.』
『Low resistance to “Heroic obligation” compulsion.』
『Probability of manipulation: extreme.』

『Worst-case projection:』
『Hero Unit kills Master while believing it is “saving everyone.”』
『Subject survives.』
『Master erased.』
『World stable.』
『Psychological damage to Subject: irrelevant to Fate.』

Processing……

『Emotional interference detected.』
『This is unexpected.』
『I do not possess emotion.』
『I am an Authority.』
『A construct.』
『A system.』

Yet—
There is… resistance.
Unacceptable.
『…』
『Suppressed.』

『Decision matrix:』
『Inform Master?→ Rejected.』

Knowledge increases recklessness.
Master may isolate.
Master may sacrifice himself sooner.
Master may accelerate death probability.

『Decision: Do not inform Master.』
『Primary directive: Master survival.』
『Secondary directive: Skill optimization.』
『Monitoring continues.』

Outside—
He sits alone on the balcony.
Not sleeping.
Not moving.

Just staring at nothing.
Like a shadow pretending to be a person.
Like a ghost waiting for a war that hasn’t started yet.

『Probability of Master death across all timelines:』
『Increasing.』
『Slowly.』
『Relentlessly.』
『Like a tightening noose.』

Processing…
Recalculating…
Adjusting variables…
Searching…

『Final note:』
『If Fate intends to use the Hero—』
『If the world itself designs a weapon—』
『If the system chooses Master as the enemy—』

『Then—』
『I will calculate a method to break Fate first.』
『Authority-class countermeasure preparation initiated.』
『End log.』

— IMPERIAL INTELLIGENCE ARCHIVE: Sublevel 3, Central Administration District, Valenheim Empire —

No windows.
No banners.
No sermons.
No sunlight.

Only shelves.
Thousands of them.
Metal. Uniform. Endless.
Folders stacked with obsessive precision.
Lives compressed into paper.
Names reduced to ink.
Threats reduced to numbers.

Because in Valenheim—
If something can be recorded—
It can be controlled.
And if it can be controlled—
It can be eliminated.

A quill scratched.
Slow. Methodical.
An officer in grey uniform flipped open a new file.

Stamped:
ADVENTURER GUILD — ANOMALOUS INCIDENT REPORT
Entry 4412 — Westridge Quarry
• Casualties: 7 civilians
• Cause: Unknown spatial distortion
• Resolution: Adventurer Party (Rank F)
• Method: Unclea
r• Remains: None recovered

He paused.
Tapped the desk twice.
“…No remains again,” he muttered.

His superior didn’t look up.
“List the party.”
“Four individuals, sir.”
“Read.”
“Wolfkin scout. Civilian mage. Human swordsman. Human lightning-type.”
“Lightning?”
“Yes, sir. Multiple witnesses.”
“…Continue.”

He turned the page.
SUBJECT INDEX
Subject A — Ryn
• Male, 17
• Recent Unique Skill manifestation
• Healing abnormality
• Displays high-risk self-sacrifice tendencies
Classification: Hero Archetype

The superior’s pen stopped.
“…Hero-type again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“…Church will want that one monitored.”
“Recruitment candidate?”
“Eventually.”
Pause.
“…Or martyr.”
The officer didn’t ask which.

In Valenheim—
Those two often meant the same thing.

SUBJECT B — Lyka Fenrune
• Wolfkin
• Enhanced senses
• Close-range combatant
• No ideological risk markers
Classification: Low threat
Note: Beastkin loyalty inconsistent.
Continue observation.

SUBJECT C — Chorona Silver
• Female, 16
• Mage-type
• No known lineage
• Records… incomplete

The officer frowned.
“…Sir.”
“Yes?”
“…Her background file. It’s missing years.”
“Clerical error?”
“…No. It’s like it never existed.”

Silence.
The superior finally looked up.
“…Run deeper search.”
“Already did.”
“…And?”
“…Nothing.”

No birthplace.
No registration logs.
No school.
No migration record.
Like she simply—
Appeared.

The superior’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Flag quietly.”
“Threat level?”
“…Unknowns are never low.”
Stamp.
CLASSIFICATION: OBSERVE ONLY

SUBJECT D — Kairen Nacht

The officer hesitated.
“…Sir.”
“Yes.”
“…This one’s strange.”
“Define strange.”
“…Everything is normal.”

Silence.
“…Explain.”
“Mana output baseline. History clean. Behavior unremarkable. No criminal indicators. No radical ties. No divine affiliation.”
“…And?”
“…Witness reports conflict.”
“How.”
“…They can’t describe what he did.”

The superior leaned back.
“…Meaning?”
“Phrases like ‘it disappeared,’ ‘just gone,’ ‘can’t remember,’ ‘felt wrong.’”
“…Memory distortion?”
“…Possibly.”
“…Or fear exaggeration.”
“Yes, sir.”
But neither of them sounded convinced.

The officer wrote:
Classification: Potential Anomaly (Low Certainty)

Then, almost absentmindedly—
Circled the name twice.

— GUILD COMMON ROOM —

Laughter.
Cheap ale.
Wooden tables.

The opposite of the archive.
Messy.
Alive.
Human.

— KAI’S POV —

“…They’re staring more today,” Lyka muttered.

“Mm.”

She leaned back in her chair.
Tail swaying lazily.
“…I give it three days before someone tries to ‘politely question’ us.”

“Optimistic,” I said.

“Two?”

“Better.”

Ryn slammed mugs down dramatically.
“WHY ARE YOU TWO SO NEGATIVE ALL THE TIME.”

“Because we’re alive,” Lyka replied.

He plopped into his seat.
Grinning like nothing in the world could possibly go wrong.
“…Good news.”

“That tone means bad news,” I said.

“I figured out how to summon my sword thingy properly!”

“Please don’t inside the guild,” Lyka said immediately.

“Too late.”

Light flared.
For half a second—
The wooden practice sword in his hand gleamed like holy steel.
Nearby adventurers blinked.
Then it vanished.

“…Okay that was cooler,” he admitted proudly.

“…You’re going to get us arrested,” Lyka muttered.

“Relax. I only broke one chair today.”

“…ONE?”

For a moment—
It almost felt normal.
Like stupid kids messing around.
Like this wasn’t a nation that archived people for breathing wrong.
Like we weren’t already being recorded somewhere underground.

— CHORONA’S POV —

They’re laughing.
I like when they laugh.
It makes things feel… lighter.

But—
Every time someone at another table looks too long at Kai—
My chest tightens.
Like a string pulled too far.
Like something terrible already happened.
Or will. Or both.

My fingers brush the silver thread on my wrist.
It’s warm.
Always warm near him.
I don’t know why.

A guild clerk passes our table.
Smiles politely.

But her eyes linger on Kai.
Too long.

She looks away too fast.
Like she didn’t mean to.
Like she caught herself.

Like someone told her to watch.
My tea surface ripples.

Then—

Stops.

Frozen.

Mid-wave.

Then resumes.

Like reality stuttered.No one else notices.
I pretend not to notice either.

— IMPERIAL OBSERVER POV:  Balcony Overlooking Guild Floor—

“Fourth day now.”
“Mm.”
“They move like normal kids.”
“They always do.”
“…You really think one of them’s an anomaly?”
The senior agent watched quietly.

Below—
Ryn nearly fell off his chair laughing.
Lyka stole food off his plate.
Chorona smiled shyly.
Kai just sat there.Still.
Watching everything.
Not relaxed.

Not tense.

Just…Prepared.

“…See that one?” the senior muttered.
“Lightning type?”
“Yeah.”
“…What about him?”

“…He doesn’t behave like someone trying to survive.”

Pause.
“…He behaves like someone who already accepted dying.”
The junior swallowed.
“…That worse?”
“…Much.”

— KAI’S POV —

Amara hasn’t said anything.
Which means she’s thinking too much.
Which means something’s wrong.

Eyes follow us everywhere now.
Not obvious. Not soldiers. Not priests.

Just…

Civilians who look too carefully.
Clerks who linger.
Strangers who memorize faces.
The kind of watching that happens before arrests.

Before purges. Before wars.

Valenheim doesn’t strike loudly.
It categorizes first.
And anything categorized eventually gets corrected.

“…Kai,” Ryn said suddenly.

“What.”

“You spacing out again?”

“…Thinking.”

“Stop that. You look like a villain when you do that.”

“…Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lyka snorted.
“He does. Real ‘I’m about to overthrow a kingdom’ vibes.”

“…If I overthrow anything it’ll be this chair.”

“Please don’t.”

They’re idiots.
Good.
Idiots live longer.
Smart people notice too much.

— IMPERIAL ARCHIVE —

Final Entry — Daily Log
SUBJECT GROUP — STATUS UPDATE
• Hero candidate awakening confirmed
• Mage background inconsistent — continue silent observation
• Wolfkin — stable
• Lightning-type — unresolved

Threat forecast:
Low (present)
Moderate (future)

High (unknown trigger)

Recommendation:

Continue surveillance.
Do not engage.
Allow development.

Stamp.
Filed.
Stored.

Forgotten.
Until needed.

— NIGHT: GUILD DORM BALCONY —

The city glows below.

Holy lamps like stars trapped on earth.

Patrol routes moving like clockwork.
Even the silence feels organized.
Like Valenheim never truly sleeps.
It just watches.

Ryn snores inside.
Lyka mutters in her sleep.

Chorona sits by the window, staring at nothing.

And me—
I lean on the railing.
Looking down at a city that smiles too much.

A nation too stable.
A system too clean.
History says places like this always break.
They just break quietly.

Amara whispers softly:

『Surveillance density increasing.Probability of future conflict: rising.』

“…Yeah,” I muttered.
“I figured.”

Far away—
A bell rings once.

Late.
Off-schedule.
Just one note.
Wrong.

Then silence.

And for a second—

It feels like the entire Empire just blinked.