<Protagonist>
It was, quite honestly, a bizarre word. Something that shouldn’t have appeared here.
“Protagonist”? What the hell did that mean?
In its dictionary definition, it referred to the main character in a fictional story—someone around whom the events revolve.
Which is exactly why Nigel couldn’t understand what the word was doing here, in reality. A protagonist only existed within stories. Reality didn’t have protagonists or side characters. At least, that’s what Nigel had always believed.
If this really was reality…
That word shouldn’t exist.
“……”
Protagonist. Reality. Story. Protagonist. Reality. Story. Protagonist. Reality. Story.
That word—one that should have remained confined to fiction—had bled into reality and was now tearing through Nigel’s thoughts like shards of broken glass. Each syllable cut into him.
<Protagonist> was standing before him, here, in the real world. That didn’t make sense.
Could a world that had protagonists still be called reality?
If protagonists existed… didn’t that make this place more like a story than reality?
<system: An error has occurred!>
Suddenly, a searingly blue screen flooded his vision. It was an unnaturally bright, almost ominous shade of blue—so intense it seemed to block out everything else, as if telling him you don’t get to see anything else.
<system: An error has occurred!>
The window flickered rapidly. A blinding mix of white and blue light flared up as if it were going to scorch Nigel’s retinas and burn straight into his brain.
Not just sight—every sense felt like it was being set on fire. A phantom pain spread through him, consuming his body.
Nigel collapsed to the floor, unable to bear it. He didn’t even have the awareness to feel embarrassed. He simply screamed and clutched his head, writhing in agony.
“A-ah, aaaaAAAHHH!”
“D-Duke Magnus?!”
Someone’s panicked voice reached him, but he couldn’t respond. Words—words that shouldn’t exist—were stabbing into his brain, grinding his thoughts into pulp.
Protagonist.
This… this reality…
No.
This story…
<Forget.>
Yeah, forgetting would probably be easier.
Just like always.
<system: Unable to resolve error.>
A red window floated above the sea of countless blue screens. Nigel let out a low groan, mouth slack, unable to speak.
And then—shattering through all those windows—Inas came running.
The moment he arrived, the pain that had crushed every inch of Nigel’s body vanished like it had never been.
“Inas…”
Nigel reached out for him, desperate. But his arm wouldn’t lift—it merely dragged weakly across the floor.
Instead, Inas caught him with the urgency of someone saving a man falling from a cliff, wrapping his arms around Nigel and lifting him up.
“Nigel!”
That desperate cry, that deathly pale expression full of concern—it made Nigel smile, even through the fog of unconsciousness.
***
Nigel was gravely ill after collapsing.
He regained consciousness briefly, but his fever was so high that he could hardly be called lucid. In that haze, he felt someone’s hand touching him. He didn’t know whose it was, but identifying them didn’t matter right now.
“What’s the situation…”
“Don’t worry about that. Please rest, Nigel.”
It was a gentle voice, but firm and tinged with frustration. Inas.
Why was he being so kind after killing Nigel twice? Nigel wanted to snap at him, but passed out again before he could.
When he came to again, it was still night.
His personal physician, Hayes, and Inas were all present.
“Your Grace. You’re awake.”
“…Yeah. How long was I out?”
Nigel’s brows furrowed deeply.
He groaned, rubbed his temples, then looked around at the three of them. He directed the next question at Hayes.
“How long was I out? What’s going on outside?”
“It’s been two days. And… well, there are some strange rumors going around, but… it shouldn’t become a major issue.”
The vague answer was suspicious.
Nigel mentally reviewed which nobles were hostile to him, which relatives were eyeing his position. The situation was bad enough to make him sigh. He had collapsed in a hall full of nobles—it was absurd to think this wouldn’t become a problem.
“Tell me everything. In detail.”
“Nigel, you need to rest right now.”
Inas interrupted. Nigel shot him a sharp glare—why was he pretending to be so concerned? But eventually, he sighed and nodded.
He’d been deathly ill as a child, barely surviving more than once. Many had opposed his succession to the dukedom solely because of his health.
So Nigel’s greatest enemy had never been a person—it was his own body.
After taking over as Duke, he’d worked tirelessly to prove he wasn’t unfit to lead. And now, in front of everyone, he’d collapsed like he was having a seizure.
Of course, most of the real threats had already been crushed. His power base was solid. No one could take the title from him now.
But flies still gathered, reckless and arrogant.
It wasn’t a position he’d wanted… but he’d sacrificed everything for it. He wasn’t going to hand it over.
Looks like things were about to get busy again.
“So what’s the verdict on my condition?”
“There’s no obvious cause. If anything, you’re in unusually good health. No signs of poison or drugs either.”
The doctor spoke cautiously.
Honestly, it would’ve been easier if it had been some drug-induced hallucination.
Not knowing the cause was more terrifying. Nigel thought back over his symptoms.
This is straight-up psychosis.
A status window? A protagonist? He was obviously going mad.
The doctor probably thought so too, but couldn’t say it aloud—not to the man signing his paychecks.
Nigel waved everyone away instead of pressing the issue. He needed time to think.
“I’ll leave some medicine to help you recover. Please rest, sir.”
“…Fine.”
Once the physician and Hayes left, Nigel stared at the medicine bottle.
As expected, the information window popped up.
Elixir of Amantasa
A potion brewed from the giant snake Amantasa that lives in the Pagan Mountains of northern Lemad. Its signature fishy stench is nauseatingly strong, but so is its potency.
Effect: HP +999
Price: 100 rubel
He’d only checked to make sure it wasn’t poisoned, but now he wished he hadn’t.
Amantasa wasn’t some ordinary snake—it was a monster. Disgusting to look at and even worse to smell. Just thinking about it made him queasy.
As Nigel shuddered and tried to push the bottle away, a large, firm hand stopped him.
Inas.
“You can go too.”
“Not until you take this, Nigel.”
When they were younger, Inas had stuck to Nigel like glue, attending to him constantly.
Getting Nigel to take his medicine had always been one of Inas’s top priorities—and clearly still was.
His loyal knight stared at him stubbornly.
It was hard to refuse.
With a shiver of disgust, Nigel drank the potion.
The taste was so vile he nearly gagged after the first sip.
He had to suppress several retches before he managed to finish it.
Then Inas pulled out a small candy, wrapped in paper, and gently placed it in Nigel’s mouth.
“……”
The hand that once killed him brushed lightly across his lips. The sensation sent a chill down Nigel’s spine.
Maybe it was because he’d been murdered in his bedroom each time, but just being alone with Inas in the same space was enough to stir those memories.
Nigel forced himself upright, lifting his chin stiffly as he glared at Inas. He refused to show fear.
“I drank it. Now leave.”
“I have something to ask you.”
“Later.”
“It has to be now.”
The blatant insubordination made Nigel’s brow twitch.
“You think I’m a joke now that I’m losing it?”
“You’re not losing it, Nigel.”
Inas answered calmly.
That unwavering certainty wasn’t comforting—it was creepy.
Nigel stared into his knight’s strangely luminous eyes.
Something was wrong.
This wasn’t the same Inas.
This was the Inas who had stabbed him in the chest.
Fear surged again.
Could he possibly be planning to kill Nigel a third time?
Inas didn’t have a weapon right now—but his Skill Window was filled with hundreds of dazzling magic spells, all marked [Master].
And even without magic, those thick arms of his could snap someone like Nigel—a duke who had never once held a sword—in an instant.
But as his thoughts spiraled, fear gave way to fury.
He’d given his entire life to Inas. And Inas had betrayed him.
And just before that anger could explode, a strange new window popped up in front of Nigel.
[Inas Idenbach] has sent you a party request.
Do you accept?
YES
NO
Party? What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Nigel tried not to show how confused he was as he read the sentence. But no matter how many times he read it, it made no sense. Even the options—YES and NO—were in some foreign language.
Still, somehow, instinctively, he understood. YES meant accept. NO meant reject.
But… what even was this?
He didn’t have time to dwell on it. The window refused to go away and hovered in his vision no matter where he looked.
Nigel squeezed his eyes shut and made his choice.
▷ NO
Whatever this was, he had no intention of “joining” anything with Inas right now.
The rejection came straight from his gut.
Finally, the annoying window vanished, and he could see Inas’s face again.
But Inas looked… expressionless.
Had Nigel made a mistake? His heart dropped.
Inas watched him calmly for a moment, then spoke.
“Nigel. Something rather interesting happened right before you collapsed.”
“Interesting?”
“Yes. A system error occurred—centered around you.”
System error.
A jarring phrase, spoken with disturbing ease.
Inas stepped closer, his presence suffocating.
Nigel froze like a mouse in front of a cat.
With a single push, Inas sent his rigid body toppling backward.
He leaned over him, pressing Nigel’s shoulders down with a firm grip.
“Inas…”
It was a face Nigel had never seen before.
Not the Inas who loved him.
Not the Inas who killed him.
This Inas… was utterly devoid of emotion.
“How did you see it?”
“What?”
“The party window.”
And then Inas—calmly, naturally—spoke a word Nigel had never imagined he’d hear from someone else’s lips.
