Chapter 2 – Twisting the Story for My Benefit, I Will Live at All Costs

【Eksu PoV】

It’s been a few years since I was reincarnated, about 10 years, and well, my defense is still absolute, but my attack hasn’t improved at all.

Nothing at all, not even a single sign of improvement.

My attack remains as feeble as that of a human who cannot wield mana.

I tried to train with my parents, yet even they struggled to help me advance.

They, despite being ordinary citizens with simple dreams, wanted me to learn how to defend myself.

Even though I lacked a powerful attack, my enormous defense made me stand out.

Eventually, I was destined to attend the magic academy, as was the norm here.

Men and women over eighteen must attend the academy to hone their skills.

But even with my parents’ persistent help, I could not improve my attack.

Perhaps it is the very nature of my defense that stifles my offensive power.

After all, I rarely needed to focus on the attack when my defense carried the weight of every challenge.

He knows…

The best defense is attack.

Yet, that is not all bad.

After all, I never intended to join wars, nor did I wish to fight in grand battles.

My defense is already sufficient to handle many threats.

Every time I ventured out to play and enjoy my childhood, my absolute defense kept me safe.

So, in many ways, I have little to complain about.

Now that I’m 10 years old, I continue to savor every moment of my carefree youth.

Today, my parents have planned to teach me the art of hunting.

By the way, my mother’s name is Valentina and my father’s name is Thomas.

This morning, my father roused me from sleep with a gentle urgency.

“Eksu, come quickly.”

“Wait for me, dad, I’m going…”

Everything was going smoothly, each moment as expected, until a girl knocked on the door before I could even leave the house.

“Hello… my name is Elizabeth… I’ve heard a lot about you…”

【Siegfried PoV】

I am very convinced that this time, this time I will not die.

This Eksu, that impenetrable defense, the ease with which he deflected every attack… I need him.

I want him.

Cough, cough.

Not in a sexual way, but to replace me.

This world has cast me as the protagonist, and even though I try to rid myself of Elizabeth and Lilith, fate continually pits me against them.

If I choose someone weak, they will perish before ever becoming the protagonist.

That is why I need his absolute defense.

But… I have a problem.

Even though I have reincarnated countless times, I have never truly seen him.

This can only mean one thing: he is either a secret character in the novel,

or that lazy Carrara only wrote my character, Elizabeth, and Lilith—

leaving him as nothing more than a mysterious bug in the world.

A presence that should not be here, or simply an idea Carrara drafted and then abandoned, only for this world to inexplicably implement it.

Anyway, I need him to replace me.

Since I almost never encountered him, I had to search tirelessly from village to village until I finally found him.

What aided me was the ten-year boost granted by the novel.

For those 10 years, the story was vague and only stated that I did not meet Elizabeth or Lilith.

As long as I avoided their path, the boost would continue.

For that, I must thank the lazy Carrara.

It took me about six long years to track him down.

I had to send several slayers under the guise of seeking a companion for me—the hero.

During my long and arduous travels, I frequented every local notice board and humble town newspaper I could find.

One crisp morning in a small border village, I came upon a freshly printed news sheet.

Pinned to a rough-hewn wooden board, it caught my attention with its faded ink and timeworn paper.

The headline screamed: “Elizabeth, the Fiery Blade, Challenges Fate at Dawn.”

I paused and leaned in close, examining every carefully written word.

Every word on that parchment was etched with raw determination and urgency.

A hastily drawn sketch of a fierce woman accompanied the text.

Her eyes, wild and defiant, seemed to burn with an inner fire.

The notice recounted how Elizabeth had appeared suddenly at a skirmish near a remote watchtower.

Witnesses said her gaze flickered like burning coals when danger approached.

One grizzled merchant muttered, “Her stare could melt even the hardest steel.”

Another, with a youthful but earnest tone, added, “Her frown alone silences even the bravest of souls.”

I folded the paper carefully, preserving it as evidence of her formidable presence.

In another village, I discovered yet another notice.

This one was tacked near the busy market square, where life pulsed with quiet energy.

It described a sudden commotion in the heart of the town.

The scribbled lines detailed how Elizabeth had arrived like a roaring tempest.

Her eyes, described as “stormy and unreadable,” mirrored both unwavering resolve and hidden sorrow.

The bulletin mentioned that she had paused by a dilapidated tavern.

There, she listened intently to an old widow’s lament.

For a brief moment, her fierce demeanor softened.

But that tender expression vanished almost as quickly as it came.

Villagers whispered that her compassion was as rare as a gentle breeze in the midst of a storm.

I collected that leaflet with deliberate care.

Each scrap deepened the legend that surrounded her.

Another brittle piece of news arrived from a neighboring hamlet.

It recounted a fierce confrontation at the local militia barracks.

According to the paper, Elizabeth stood unyielding in the face of challenge.

Her fists were clenched, and her eyes narrowed like a hawk’s keen focus.

One soldier was quoted, “When she spoke, even our bravest hearts faltered.”

The raw intensity of the words sent a shiver through the gathered listeners.

I could almost feel the trembling in the air as if the very atmosphere was charged with her power.

Every newspaper and every scrap of ink painted a vivid picture of Elizabeth.

Not just as a warrior, but as a force of nature itself.

Each notice offered a window into her volatile spirit.

Some papers celebrated her as a savior, a guardian of hope.

Others warned of her as a harbinger of doom and retribution.

One crumpled announcement from a northern village read, “Elizabeth’s smile may be rare, but her wrath is eternal.”

That single line made the hairs on my neck stand on end.

I began to study these small newspapers like precious relics of an ancient lore.

Every minute detail was noted carefully.

The subtle twitch of her brow, the hard set of her jaw when her honor was challenged—

each nuance added layer upon layer to her mysterious persona.

I saw her clearly through the eyes of those who had witnessed her firsthand.

Their voices, captured in hurried ink and simple parchment, brought her vividly to life.

It was as if every newspaper whispered secrets about the essence of her soul.

I engineered rumors with meticulous care.

I invented a prophecy that spoke of one with 【Absolute Defense】.

According to my tale, this person would vanquish a great and ominous villain by my side.

Though this novel holds no true villain, that secret must remain between us.

No one can ever know that my very survival depends on this ruse.

I spread another carefully crafted rumor.

I claimed that Eksu might be even stronger than Elizabeth herself.

This provocative notion was sure to spark her competitive interest.

I took every precaution possible.

I made sure that not a single trace of my name would be linked to the rumor.

I could not risk losing the only protection I have.

Every village and every town buzzed with this tantalizing rumor.

I watched silently from the shadows.

I saw how Elizabeth’s reputation grew with every whispered word.

Her eyes, as described in the newspapers, burned with an unyielding challenge.

Her posture, every reported gesture, spoke of unbreakable resolve.

I could almost picture her perfectly, standing tall amid the chaos.

A particular notice from a remote village square struck me deeply.

It read, “Elizabeth has arrived, her gaze as cold as winter’s breath, searching for a worthy adversary.”

The detail was vivid and striking.

Villagers even claimed to have felt a shiver run down their spines at the sound of her name.

Each scrap of paper served to solidify her image in my mind.

I marveled at the power of the people’s perception.

Not merely was she seen as a formidable fighter, but as a living legend.

These small newspapers became my secret and invaluable tools.

They showed me the real woman behind the myth.

Her raw emotions were captured in every hastily scrawled word.

I collected every scrap with careful precision and hidden excitement.

For six long years, I traversed this turbulent medieval realm.

I scoured notice boards, tavern walls, and market stalls wherever I could.

Every document added another thread to the tapestry of her legend.

Each new detail fed into my grand plan.

I needed to harness this ever-growing reputation.

It would draw her inevitably to the small village of Eksu.

At 10 years old… I finally succeeded…

I made Elizabeth go to the small village of Eksu…

And I’m going there to make sure that everything will work out…