"Your younger self was really innocent. To think you'd leave something like this in a book."
Jack said, handing over the tome he'd received from the inquisitor.
That secret book, full of shame, which the Mel born into this world had been writing since she was little!
"Did you think I knew my own family would do that to me?"
Mel snatched the book and hid it inside her clothes.
She was a little embarrassed, if she was being honest.
This was the early period of her previous life—or, more precisely, not long after she'd been reborn into a game.
<Akrasia Continental War.>
A reasonably popular game that had run from Season 1 through Season 3.
She was likely a third-generation Possessor—someone who'd been reincarnated into Season 3.
From her previous life's research, each season had roughly a hundred Possessors, and she'd been born into this world in the third wave.
'More precisely, I'm something like a reincarnated Possessor.'
Despite its grandiose name, Akrasia Continental War was a gacha game.
A run-of-the-mill mass-produced game with auto-hunt and auto-combat systems, where you combined pulled characters and weapons and roamed the continent.
'SSS-Rank Strategist Mel.'
She'd possessed the top-grade character she'd pulled.
No, she'd been reborn as Mel.
Supposedly only a hundred SSS-Rank cards appeared per season, and Mel was one of those hundred.
'Not that it mattered much.......'
There were already hundreds of Possessors.
Their arrival points varied wildly.
They hid among various races and factions, concealing their identities.
'The fact that the holy orders openly hunt Possessors is bad enough, but.......'
Above all.
'First-generation Possessors are the biggest problem.'
The senior Possessors who'd arrived in Season 1 had been born roughly several centuries ago by this continent's calendar.
Few first-generation survivors remained, but those who had established power bases had thoroughly crushed every later generation into submission.
'And some of them aren't even in human form.......'
In truth, doing anything was difficult.
[Akrasia Continental War] was, plainly, something like a downgraded copy.
This continent was incomparably larger than in the game.
Even in-game knowledge was incomplete, and every known hidden piece had been monopolized by the first generation.
'Mysteries being among them.'
Aura manuals, swordsmanship, grimoires, items, castles, and more.
All manner of things that spontaneously appeared from somewhere were collectively called 'Mysteries.'
Finding them was the foremost objective of every faction on this continent, Possessors included.
In her previous life, the Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company had acquired quite a few Mysteries.
While she was musing, Jack asked.
"What's written in that book?"
Mel glanced at the cover.
[Mel's Continental Conquest Plan]
Mel's cheeks flushed.
More than anything, she was mortified.
It reminded her of the youthful conceit of her younger days, when, born as the eldest daughter of a margrave's house, she'd harbored the ambition of becoming the next Margrave and commanding the continent.
"Just, you know, notes about what's out there in this world......."
Strictly speaking, it was a collection of [hidden pieces].
Half of which had already been unearthed.
"Didn't you say that stuff was useless?"
"I didn't know yet back then."
As Mel hedged, Jack changed the subject.
"You never imagined your younger brother would sell you out. I understand completely. Who would ever think someone could abandon family bonds and betray their own blood?"
He'd pushed too hard and now felt bad, it seemed.
'The Boss is the Boss.'
Mel actually felt even more embarrassed by Jack's attitude.
It was true that her younger self had been complacent in this era.
So she naturally redirected.
"Boss, you really were a monster from the start."
"A monster? I'm a man whose head can be cut off too."
Jack spoke in an even tone, no, a tone tinged with pride, recounting the experience of having his head severed.
"What the hell, the Empire's First Legion and the Emperor's Blades all came after just you? Why did you even go?"
"Persistent bastards. They said if I wanted to hold a funeral for you all, I should come out, and, ah—. I just couldn't hold back."
Five days of brutal fighting, and then Jack died.
"You went through hell too, Boss."
"Since I'm back, it all worked out in the end."
Jack smirked and shared a remarkable discovery.
"Mel, a person can still move even after their head's been cut off."
"Huh?"
When he got to the part about moving his severed head with Spirituality, the boy beside them went 'Huk!' and held his breath.
Mel gave a sly smile and asked.
"Boss, is that kid over there a new recruit?"
"Ah, I was going to introduce you but got carried away in the moment."
Jack had brought along some young stranger and introduced him to Mel.
"Mel, this is Thomson. He's good with letters and numbers, handles horses well. Oh! He can butcher monsters and cook, too."
Then he clasped Thomson's shoulder and continued the introduction to Mel.
"Thomson, this is Mel, a companion from the future like me. She's our mercenary company's strategist, and she goes by the epithets Branded Demon and Witch of Annihilation."
Eep!
Thomson trembled and bowed his head.
"N-n-nice to meet you!!!"
Jet-black hair that fell like an elegant curtain.
A woman with one red eye and one blue.
Her slender build suggested she wasn't an aura-wielding knight.
She looked like she had no combat ability, yet her gaze was terrifying.
Like that of a predator.
"Nice to meet you! For the record, the Boss's epithet was Rip-Anything Jack."
Mel mentioned Jack's epithet and watched Thomson's reaction.
'He's already seen the Boss's strength.'
Thomson looked immensely relieved.
Probably because he'd heard Commander Jack's relatively normal?-sounding epithet.
Definitely green.
Mel took it all in and smiled.
"Ripping anything is actually the most terrifying part, but he doesn't know a thing yet."
With that cryptic remark, Mel turned her gaze to Jack.
Something mischievous yet bewitching in her eyes.
She said.
"So that's why you were late?"
"Late?"
Jack shrugged.
"Your companion is held captive by an inquisitor, and you abandon her to go settle the humiliation of your first battlefield? And while you were at it, you picked up some kid you liked and brought him along?"
Mel fired words like a machine gun, gauging Jack's reaction.
Given his personality, he'd surely apologize, and yet.......
'Hm?'
Jack wasn't fazed in the slightest.
***
'I knew this would happen.'
Mel had a quietly persistent grudge streak, so the moment she fixated on my being late, she'd probably nurse that grievance for twenty years straight.
"Boss, why did you go to the battlefield before coming for me? I nearly died, you know!!!"
Something like that.
With the one who'd normally borne the brunt of her grudges, her older brother, no, younger brother, now neutralized, Mel would likely seek a substitute.
But I had a flawless argument.
"I had no choice. I was escorting Father."
I showed her the golden coffin.
"Shouldn't my genuine desire to offer my first battlefield to Father take priority?"
"Ah......."
The swagger drained from Mel.
She couldn't very well look at a deceased father's coffin and say, 'You being late nearly got me in big trouble, Boss!'
But what happened next exceeded my expectations by a mile.
"Th-this is the great man who made the Boss into a human being......."
Mel approached the golden coffin, trembling from head to toe.
Then she dropped to her knees and prostrated herself in a full-body bow.
A humbling posture, but it was actually the greeting custom from the world Mel had come from.
'Specifically, a greeting offered to the deceased.'
I knew this because, at Mel's suggestion, the entire Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company had performed this bow on every anniversary of Father's death.
The sight of over ten thousand mercenaries facing the direction of the Kingdom of Alton and bowing in tribute had been quite the spectacle.
Father must have been proud of the son he'd raised.
This life would be even more gratifying.
'Now they can bow before the actual coffin.'
Mel expressed deep reverence before Father's coffin.
"I pay my respects to the great, no, the supreme god."
An excruciatingly excessive display.
She hadn't been like this in the past life, had she?
'Hm.......'
Something was off.
'Is she mocking me in a roundabout way?'
It was so over-the-top that the thought crossed my mind.
Mel would never insult Father.
But I couldn't fathom why she'd bow so extravagantly.
Looking more closely—.
'She's more devout than I am.'
It was sincere.
Mel was genuinely paying her respects to Father.
"To the great one who served the War God and in his final years raised the man called the Boss, Mel, the Boss's companion, offers her belated greeting."
Two bows.
Then a lowered head.
"I'll....... bring an offering of spirits next time."
She even looked apologetic for not having any.
I had to ask.
"When have you ever met Father?"
Even someone who knew Father wouldn't be this reverential.
"No, but I've seen the Boss, so I know full well he was a great being."
I tilted my head.
She elaborated.
"You can tell how incredible the father who raised the Boss from age three must be, can't you? Ah....... Seeing him enshrined in a coffin like this, the feeling is something else."
Once, my companions had suspected Father of being a Possessor.
Or that the War God was a Possessor.
In any case, the suspicion had been thoroughly obliterated by my fury—.
"You're not about to start that bullshit again, are you?"
Mel's eyes now held the same look as back then.
"Father didn't use those incomprehensible expressions of yours, Mel. I've never even heard the piece-of-shit god's voice."
"But the War God is still a possibility, right?"
Unlike my past life, I didn't deny the possibility outright this time.
But I had no intention of affirming it, either.
"A Mystery would make more sense."
Half my life had been spent on battlefields, and the other half collecting Mysteries with my companions.
Even our mobile fortress had been one such Mystery.
The very idea of something the size of a nation's city roaming the continent at will was absurd in itself—.
This was still more believable than the piece-of-shit god called the War God.
"Our regression is probably something similar."
I said this with a hint of smugness.
Mel stared at me, eyes wide.
"Huh? How do you know that......."
"Ah, regression?"
Normally, specialized terms like that were taught to me by my companions.
Or rather, drilled into me would be more accurate.
I grinned and said.
"Father taught me."
"Ah, as expected of that great man!!! Father—."
Mel was gearing up for another uncomfortable round of Father worship, so I casually shifted my gaze.
She followed my line of sight and turned as well.
"......."
"Cough—."
Two men gasping for breath came into view.
It seemed I'd successfully diverted Mel's attention.
"They can't die."
Mel would surely grant those two a far more meaningful death.
She tended to her younger brother and the inquisitor with care.
In the meantime, we talked.
"Restoring the Kingdom of Alton."
"Hm?"
"The first great achievement I have in mind for the Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company."
"Oh....... Nice, huh? Your instincts really are on a monstrous level, Boss."
"When you're strong enough, your thinking deepens."
My monstrous strength could solve most problems in the world.
Once I'd realized that, my thinking had grown sharper and my imagination more expansive.
While I was at it, I told her about my changes.
"You've even got your Spirituality right now, Boss?"
When I revealed that my Spirituality existed, Mel was genuinely shocked.
"I didn't carry over anything."
But she soon expressed disappointment.
The number of Mysteries Mel had possessed surpassed that of any single nation's king, and I acknowledged as much.
"But you've got two eyeballs now, haven't you?"
At my words, Mel cackled.
"Right? Before I became the Branded Demon, they used to call me One-Eyed Mel."
"Shame about losing the forehead tattoo."
The criminal's brand.
Honestly, I'd thought it looked rather cool.
She looked like the embodiment of defiance, living freely in spite of the oppression of the continent's three great orders.
"Oh, that brand?"
'The Branded Demon,' that was what they'd called Mel.
Before meeting me in her past life, Mel had regarded the brand on her forehead as a mark of shame.
She'd always hidden it beneath a headband.
But I'd eradicated that trivial shame of hers completely.
"Brand? I didn't know the evil gods used things like that. It just looks like a cool tattoo. Walk around with it showing."
"One of the three great orders stamped it on me as proof of sin, you know?"
"You've only got one eye, Mel, so it must already be a pain. If you're wrapping a headband on top of that when you're trying to survey a battlefield as strategist, wouldn't that be even more uncomfortable?"
"E-even so, everyone talks about it."
"Trust me."
I'd killed everyone who badmouthed Mel's brand.
Enemy soldiers, I ripped apart. Allied soldiers, I beheaded and mounted on pikes.
Before long, no one dared utter the word 'brand' in Mel's vicinity, and as whispers spread behind the scenes, the epithet 'Branded Demon' was born.
A rather fine epithet, I'd say.
Mel had felt the same way.
"You know what, maybe later I should go to the Council of Light and ask the Pope to put one on me?"
Mel smirked and asked. I was genuinely puzzled.
The Council of Light—wasn't that the Church of Latia's assembly where only the continent's power brokers gathered?
The sole occasion the Pope appeared in person. (Before regression, we'd used that opportunity to kidnap the Pope.)
"Would we even qualify to attend at this point? We haven't accomplished anything notable yet—."
In response to my seriousness, Mel answered just as seriously.
"Boss, who am I?"
"Mel."
"Last name?"
"Mel What's-Her-Name."
Mel smirked.
"Remembering every noble's surname is a waste, I'll give you that. But remember mine!"
Mel Kranel.
"The Margrave house of the Kingdom of Alton, and—."
My plan was to restore the Kingdom of Alton.
It seemed Mel agreed it was a perfectly sized first achievement.
"—the name of the family that will soon become a duke's house and use this kingdom as its puppet state."
***
Jack, the Boss, had earmarked this kingdom as a cornerstone for the great war to come.
A grand plan: save a kingdom destined for ruin and put it to work for the Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company.
'The Boss chose this by gut instinct, of course.'
Naturally, Jack had followed his instincts and understood none of it.
"Being the duke of a kingdom with a puppet government isn't much, is it? You'd be nothing but someone's lackey."
"What if that someone is our Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company?"
Mel summarized it in a single line so the Boss would understand.
Jack's eyes went wide.
"This life's Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company starts with noble power and wealth from day one!"
That's right.
A starting point incomparable to a mere ten gold coins.
"Can you become the house head when you were locked up on heresy charges?"
As expected, the Boss was an idiot but not a fool.
To his sharp question, Mel grinned.
"I have justification, don't I?"
"Justification?"
Mel's younger brother, beaten to a pulp.
The inquisitor in the same state.
Wasn't this a situation where 'usurpation' fit better than justification?
Jack thought so.
"Usurpation doesn't sound bad either—."
Before he could finish, Mel burst into laughter.
Eyes curved like crescent moons, she said.
"The house head, Father, is still alive."
Reduced to something near a vegetative state, unable to act at all, lying bedridden, but alive.
"Boss, you said you have Spirituality, right?"
"It's weak, but......."
Mel knew full well that 'weak' by the Boss's standard meant 'overwhelming' to everyone else.
If regression had a silver lining, wasn't this it?
"Use that Spirituality to wake our father up for just one day."
Just as Mel expected.
Jack nodded and said.
"If I burn through all my Spirituality, one day should be possible."