Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

Before I could find out about the things that Kuzunoha was talking about with Viviane, Sera rang the bastion's bell that I ended up forging because it might be useful when the bastion were in a much more idle state, and that the sudden threat appearance needed a full attention immediately.

Three consecutive tolls meant that every bastioneers except for me and my confidantes needed to gather in the center of the bastion.

Four consecutive tolls mean that my attention and other sub-leaders of this bastion was required post-haste.

In this case, it was a sudden invasion from a pack of Sandstalkers, one of my most favorite common yet somewhat rare Calamity Objects because of how useful their materials were when it came to creating Calamity Alloys.

The bell was rung three times.

"The threat has been dealt with, Lady Narcissus," Amelia reported. "We have already carved the monsters and submitted the materials to Madam Kuzunoha."

"How is the performance of the Skypiercers when it comes to armored enemies like the Sandstalkers?" I asked, with Verina and Lupina in the vicinity since they needed to report in case that there was a problem with the recalibration of the Organic Calculator, especially since Verina was still learning the rope of arcane sorcery there and there.

"Taking multiple Sandstalkers at once might be a repeating problem, but it was nothing that a great strategy can't achieve," Amelia answered, implying that the Skypiercer was not enough to overwhelm the Sandstalkers as it was with a much more unarmored Calamity Objects. "Thanks to the formation you taught us, that focused on flanking large yet fast enemies—we managed to secure a great victory without the assistance of Lady Verina and Madam Kuzunoha."

Great victory meant minimum to no casualties on our side.

Which was surprising as it was hopeful and great, since I doubted that Amelia's current leadership could even catch up to the fast problem-solving skill that the brain of Narcissus possessed, as in vessel, not because of me entirely.

"Something else you want to report?

"... I noticed an abrupt change in intensity with Erika's performance." Amelia looked to her surroundings. It might be fair to assume that she was already planning to report this, and gave Erika a task that wasn't close to our perimeters. "One time, she is in her excited and optimistic self.

"A second later, her eyes lost half of its light as her senses and instinct appeared to be heightened, prompting her to outmaneuver some of the Sandstalkers that hasn't resurfaced as if she was able to see the future, before flanking two of the aggressive ones that was keeping the vanguard at bay."

"As if she was able to see the future, you say?" I parroted, showcasing Amelia in case that she realized that her wording might be far from what she intended.

"Yes," Amelia immediately replied. "I've known many who moved their body according to their fast and reliable survival instinct, but none of them went far as moving like there was something predetermined unfolding."

"I see."

I saw how Erika fought before, this was completely different than her usual behavior in combat.

The content that I added on the Script shouldn't also transform her combating prowess drastically.

I wondered if it was related to the sudden zealous attitude that she took today.

"Likewise, prepare to report to me if there is any subsequent example to this."

With the bastion enjoying a rare moment of respite during the 'actual' Ordeal's hibernation phase, I took the opportunity to have a private conversation with Viviane.

It wasn't just curiosity that drove me; something in her demeanor—her weariness mixed with quiet strength—felt familiar.

I found her in the living space assigned to her, reclining in the plush armchair we'd hastily prepared. The soft light of a nearby lantern illuminated her features, revealing the faint lines of frustration and lingering exhaustion.

"Viviane," I began, stepping inside and closing the door behind me, "Do you have a moment?"

Her sharp orange eyes flicked up to meet mine, and she sighed. "I assume you're not here to offer me mortal ration and tranquility."

"Not quite," I admitted, taking a seat across from her. "I wanted to talk. About… some things."

"Some things?" she echoed, one brow arching skeptically. "Where do you propose we start? Your reckless behavior? The absurd Scripts you've handed out for the sake of slow and forceful brainwashing and indoctrination? Or perhaps your meddlesome tendencies to mankind as a fairy?"

Ah. Straight to the scolding, then.

I shifted in my seat, giving her my best disarming smile. "I was hoping for a gentle conversation, but I suppose constructive criticism works too."

Her lips twitched, though whether it was amusement or irritation, I couldn't tell. "Narcissus, you're young, even by fairy standards. But you've already made choices that would give most of our kind pause."

"Such as?"

She gestured vaguely toward the window, where the faint hum of activity from the bastioneers could be heard. "Your Scripts, for one, are terrifying. They effectively, slowly bind these mortals with an unnatural loyalty, amplified by your psionic curse. Do you even realize the long-term consequences of that?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of her accusation. "I took care of them with passion, just as they gave me their reverence and loyalty," I said carefully. "It is meant to empower and guide them, making them fit to work under my command and expectation."

"And strip away their rightful autonomy of conscience in the process," she countered, her voice firm but not unkind. "Tools or not, you're playing a dangerous game by toying with their wills. Mortals are fragile, Narcissus. They cling to their individuality, their freedom—true or imagined. You risk breaking them in ways that can't be undone."

Her words hit harder than I expected—it reminded me of the passing sentence that my grandmother once told me when I was a child.

I guess Viviane's version focused more on the morality behind my action, alongside the forceful yet undetected influence that was bestowed to those who weren't that much of a direct danger to me.

There was the concept of unfairness in the method, not the cause and reason. Taken negatively, it meant that I could deliberately harm these people and make them suffer with the right and just methods.

Taken positively, the implication behind Viviane's words might have had something to do with the fact that I was a fairy, doing something to the mortals, not because there was a morality to follow.

Now that I think about it, fae's trickery throughout multiple iterations of myths and fairy tales was often direct and visibly engaged with its victim in a way that they would have an idea that something was affecting them.

The opposite of what I did, which was subterfuge in words and undetected psychological manipulation.

"I never meant to harm them," I said softly. "I just… I wanted to create something better. A stability and engagement that involves me and those under my influence. Isn't that worth the action?"

Viviane's gaze softened, and for a moment, the sharpness in her expression dulled. "Your intentions may be noble, but intentions alone don't absolve you of the unprecedented harm you might cause.

"There will be a time where your perfect influence might wane, or maybe there will be a time when a third-party will shake the resolve of your followers, and all of them will be the consequence of your action, not them, because you're the hidden source of their choices.

"This is the act of 'weaving fate', and it shouldn't be something that faes like us must dwell if we want to maintain our existence amongst mortals."

Her voice carried an odd gentleness now, one that reminded me of someone I once admired deeply.

It was enough to make me lower my defenses, at least for a moment.

The act of weaving fate, huh. I guess this concept didn't matter much when I was a human, since we were fragile and were easily influenced by anything that we were exposed to.

But in this case, the fae were of higher existence than humans, and they carry the power to affect human's fate directly, even without exposing them with a certain experience and stimulation.

I started to get where she was going now.

"I'll consider your advice," I said, my tone sincere. "Thank you for speaking honestly. Most people don't."

She studied me for a long moment before nodding. "Good. At least you're willing to listen."

A silence fell between us, not uncomfortable but reflective. After a few moments, I leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of me. "How did you do it?" I asked. "Survive out there, alone, for so long?"

Viviane's expression turned wistful, her gaze distant as if recalling memories long buried.

"I didn't 'survive' in the way you might think," she said. "I endured. I encased myself in a barrier—a ripple in reality, really—that marked my existence and concealed it simultaneously.

"To the Calamity Objects, I was nothing more than a blank space, an absence they couldn't detect."

"That's…" I hesitated, struggling to find the words. "That's brilliant."

It was the same concept that Verina and Lupina used when they were traveling to my direction under the guidance of the mysterious Divinator with the name of Loki. But in this case, it was less of creating an enclosed safe haven, and more of just erasing one's own presence.

Could I also do that if I learned how to perform fae magic?

"It's lonely," she corrected, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Do you know what it's like to sleep for years at a time, wrapped in silence and emptiness? To wake up and realize the world has changed, and you haven't?"

I didn't reply immediately. Her words painted a vivid picture of isolation, one that struck uncomfortably close to home.

Not to mention, a year!? No wonder she looks incredibly excited despite her visible annoyance in our visit to her lake.

"Why did you stay?" I asked finally. "Why not leave the lake and… I don't know, find something else?"

"You already know why, Narcissus." Viviane's lips curved into a humorless smile. "Because I had a purpose—a duty. Or at least, I thought I did. But that purpose became a cage, and over time, I forgot what it felt like to be free.

"It is the very same thing that you used to procure me into your bastion, you dolt."

"Ahaha, at least, you're not alone anymore," I said. "Whatever else happens, know that you're part of the era I'm trying to create. And I'll do everything I can to make sure to involve you in that."

Viviane's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. For a moment, she looked as though she might argue, but instead, she simply nodded.

"Thank you," she said softly.

We sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of our conversation lingering between us. Despite her earlier scolding, I felt a strange sense of bond with Viviane—a connection born from shared our personal struggles.

As I rose to leave, she called after me. "Narcissus."

I turned, meeting her gaze.

"Be careful," she said, her voice carrying a rare note of genuine concern. "You're walking a fine line. Don't let your ambition blind you to the consequences."

"I won't," I promised.

As I stepped out into the cool night air, I couldn't shake the feeling that her words carried a warning I hadn't fully grasped yet.

The repeated mention of ambition and how it proved dangerous when wielded by a fairy.