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Chapter 56: 55

Mozart stared at his enemy warily trying not to miss even a single twitch from his adversary.

Click… There, that motion means that the enemy is attacking with a blow from below.

Mozart smiled, and then simply stepped back, allowing the blow to fall into the void, after which he struck back with a sharp counterattack using his fist.

Light click... A high guard.

A slide kick, then, while the enemy is still airborne - a jump strike. Then a finishing blow while he is still on the floor.

After that, the enemy instead of simply getting back to his feet decided to roll away - this was indicated by the audible slight rustle of plastic caused by the movement of fingers.

Hmm, as if he would allow such a thing. Mozart just smiled, then pushed on the attack. A leap to bypass the enemy, guard from a somersault blow, and then catch him in between frames with a double combo and...

"VICTORY! FLAWLESS VICTORY! "- the invisible referee loudly announced his triumph and Mozart turned toward the man sitting next to him.

"Another match goes to me," Mozart smiled at the technician who decided to test his mettle against an insurmountable opponent in the form of the Child of God today. After putting the controller down, the technician slumped his shoulder in disbelief.

"Seven matches!" He grinned then extended a hand toward Mozart, "Seven matches without receiving a single blow! My respect toward a master."

"Well, I'm after all the Child of God," Mozart grinned, shaking his hand back in respect. Few still dared to play against him in any fighting games after that memorable night, when he won a battle of one against three without suffering a single blow, - "I have a couple of abilities for any occasion."

Any other Servant would consider it an unworthy endeavour - to use their Servants' abilities in something as mundane as playing a console game. But Mozart really appreciated his absolute sense of hearing. And if, thanks to his heightened sense of hearing, he could determine which buttons his opponent pressed and in which direction the controller joystick was pointed towards, then why should he not take advantage of that?

"And yet, how did you do it?" The technician looked at him questioningly, to which Mozart only smiled smugly.

"Let's just say…" - Mozart looked at his fighter - or rather, at the swordswoman, who still stood in a victorious position, - "I was always good with the girls."

The technician, having heard the joke, laughed, after which he sighed and shook his head.

"Well this has been enjoyable" rising from the couch, he glanced at the Servant. "But, the Core recovery team ran into some kind of problem, and they needed me for something. So I have to go back to work ."

"I see," Mozart sighed, "Then good luck with that, Lancel."

Lancel only nodded graciously, after which he left the room.

Mozart was left face to face with the still flashing victory screen.

For several seconds, the Servant thoughtfully watched the victory celebration, after which he sighed. The Chaldea's core, huh...

Mozart was a Servant. Not the strongest he admit . Perhaps even below average. But still he was a Servant, of the Caster class. His knowledge and achievements in magic were great. Unfortunately, he could not help with the restoration of the Core itself.

Mozart was a specialist in Orpheus Magecraft, a rare and very complicated system, built on its own principles that is wildly different from many other magic systems. And therefore, Mozart, although he understood his magic system like no one else, could not help with something so alien to him as the techno-magical miracle of Chaldea's Core, even if he wanted to.

Strictly speaking, Mozart was not really able to help with anything in Chaldea right now.

He then began examining the room he was in, the two controllers from the console, the sofa on which he was sitting right now, placed next to the ottomans with a table full of dirty glasses, he sighed, and then rose from his seat.

Of all the Servants summoned by Ainz, Mozart was indeed, most likely, the best option to leave behind in Chaldea.

In fact, it was a somewhat strange topic to think about now. Yes, Mozart was not the strongest, but he was still a Servant. Someone who stood far above almost any magi - either in the present or the past. It was ridiculous to call him weak - if he wanted or needed to, he could destroy an entire city the size of Tokyo to rubble in a couple of weeks.

However, the situation with Ainz was even more unusual and incomprehensible than the situation with the Servants, and therefore, of all the possible options, Mozart was indeed the most suitable in order to be left behind in Chaldea.

In Chaldea itself moreover, he was not threatened by any danger that could lead to his death either by battle or traps. Therefore, Mozart should have been - and was - grateful to Ainz for the rest provided to him.

However, in Chaldea lies another all consuming danger...

"Boredom" - Mozart sighed. Chaldea possessed beauty-salons, swimming pools, workshops, lounges with a bunch of board games, game consoles and a library, however... There was still something oppressing in a forced rest in a vast but locked down building, with the full understanding that it was now impossible to leave it. At the very least, it was impossible without being burned to a crisp by the infernally raging inferno behind the barriers.

Mozart sighed, and then shrugged his shoulders, stretching his sedentary body.

What should he do now?

Mozart glanced at the game console, which switched to a standby mode after a period without any input from the controllers and shook his head. He had already finished all the single player games at least once, and obviously there's no one that have agreed to play with him either cooperatively or competitively.

Just in case Mozart checked his long hair ,the color of ripe millet, descending much lower than the shoulder blades and was forced to admit that he also did not need to visit the beauty salon. As there was no point in fixing perfection.

As the last possible option, Mozart looked at a book with a bookmark on the sofa, and after a few minutes of deep thought, he nevertheless came to the conclusion that he did not want to read or visit the library right now.

Mozart once again examined the room, not particularly hoping to find any missed thing in it, after which he shrugged and moved toward the exit. Perhaps somewhere in the corridors of Chaldea he will find something interesting.

The lounge room, now occupied by Mozart, was only one of the many rooms in one of the considerable number of wings of the huge complex, so the fact that Mozart did not find anything or anyone outside the door was not surprising.

"Well, silence is also good" - however, given that Mozart still had nothing to do, after some thought, he moved along the corridor towards the central building.

The walkways began to blur together after walking through one after another, differing only in the occasionally appearing directory. On the whole, Chaldea looked very similar from the inside out - numerous spacious white corridors with many rooms - now empty or was never really intended for anything specific, created simply "just in case". This, despite the overall very bright interior, was oppressing. It seemed as if Mozart simply slowly walked through an endless man-made labyrinth of entwined doors, walkways and stairs.

"I wonder what Ainz is doing right now?" Mozart curiously thought. Chaldea was never able to establish a connection with the Singularity, which is why they were now blind to Ainz's circumstances. Mozart, of course, was not at all worried that Ainz could be in any danger - he was a powerful magi, stronger than Mozart himself - and of course, they had Cainabel.

Mozart shivered at the thought of the girl. He is able to hear a lot, much, much more than anyone else. And therefore, he was completely sure - as long as Cainabel was involved - something that could pose a threat to Ainz was more of a theoretical exercise.

Mozart, he admitted to himself, was a weak Servant, but this was true only in the event of a face to face combat. If it were necessary to make a list of fighting capability in the event of a fight, then Mozart would put himself second from the end, surpassing perhaps only Mashu. And that, perhaps, only because of her inexperience.

But if it was an actual Holy Grail War, and with access to resources, time, a workshop and a good enough Master...

In such a case, Mozart was the fourth most dangerous fighter in Chaldea. Three steps above even Arthuria or Jeanne... And two steps below Da Vinci. He possesses a few very promising trump cards, but... Mozart did not even want to think about what she could do if she had the resources and time.

But speaking of Cainabel... Mozart preferred to consider himself a realistic and cautious individual, but even in such ridiculous conditions such as "Cainabel against all of Chaldea's Servants", Mozart preferred not to think about the outcome of such a battle. Because he did not even want to voice his thoughts on this subject. He really do hear much more than what others could.

In this case, Ainz's decision to leave someone like Mozart and taking Cainabel along was logical. The only illogical thing in his decision was that Ainz took Cainabel and still decided to take the other Servants with him too. And even more than that, given the raving words from Cainabel herself, it was illogical for Ainz to take any Servants with him and not just deal with Singularity personally.

Mozart, thinking about it over however, gave up after a couple of seconds and simply shrugged. The purpose of Ainz's actions would not yield itself to a simple calculation of logic - which would only be expected from an unknowable divine spirit from beyond the borders of the universe. Or could he even say... The Root?

"Fou!" Mozart's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the small exclamation. Mozart, looking at the small animal that had just issued the snort, smiled at him.

"Four," Mozart nodded to the little animal that had caught his attention. "Good afternoon."

"Fou?" The animal snorted in a kindly questioning tone.

"Nothing special," however, Mozart, contrary to any possible expectations, answered back, as if hearing and understanding a question from Fou, "I am just walking around Chaldea."

"Fou?" The animal yawned in reply.

"No, thanks," Mozart just nodded. "But thanks for the offer."

"Fou," the beast shrugged in completely human gesture, then continued to walk slowly along the corridor, passing Mozart by. That, having followed him with a look, only nodded to him.

He really heard much, much more than other people.

However, pulling himself out of his thoughts, Mozart looked around, trying to determine where he had ended up. Apparently, being a prisoner of his thoughts, he wandered somewhere where he had not been before. At least not one of the doors around him was familiar - not that it spoke much. In Chaldea, almost all the doors looked the same... Except, perhaps, the door to the room of Serenity. It was difficult not to notice the huge sign "Do not touch! Deadly dangerous!".

However, Mozart only shook his head to get rid of that train of thought, after which, looking around him again, decided to keep slowly wandering on. In an extreme case, he will leave this labyrinth using the left hand rule.

However, as if from a result of some evil irony, walking further along the corridor did yield any turns and even the constant presence of doors ceased existence further along in Mozart's path. He was already contemplating about turning back around and walking back until he saw a door on the end of the long empty corridor.

Unlike the other many, many doors in Chaldea, this door was different from the rest. The huge, massive door made of white metal was clearly supposed to be sealed from the rest of the world - this was clearly indicated by the security panel for magnetic cards and a display with a keyboard for entering the code near the door. However, as Mozart himself knew, at the moment, many things in Chaldea had to be turned off to conserve the energy of Chaldea's Core. As could be seen from the most like supposed to be locked door that was currently open, with the security system located behind this door also turned off.

In general, it was a logical conclusion. At the moment, Chaldea have no need to be afraid of spies from the outside world, as they are all dead, and it is unlikely that the technicians would have decided to rummage around the secrets of Chaldea for some reason, especially realizing that no one needed or wanted these secrets without the surrounding external world.

Mozart shook his head. He, in fact, did not need these secrets either, but all this way he was led by banal idleness and boredom, so the opportunity to brighten up his day a little and maybe quench a little of his curiosity were things that he would accept readily. So Mozart, not bothering to torment himself with any unnecessary worries, took a step inside the unknown room.

"Wow, it's cold here!" Mozart instantly rubbed his shoulders as he came closer to the door. The temperature inside the room was clearly a dozen degrees lower than anywhere outside the room - "Did I get myself into the refrigerator?"

Mozart looked around inside the room - fortunately the light in the room was on - only to see a huge, spacious and virtually empty room. The only exception being that at the very end of it there were several obscure large objects sticking out of the walls. Mozart walked further into the room to take a closer look at the wall of the room that had caught his attention. Literally in the middle of the wall, he saw a small, flickering green screen, and next to it... A small blue window.

Looking around, Mozart himself was able to determine that his initial observation was wrong - in fact, the walls of the room is littered with numerous green glowing displays and bluish flickering windows along all the walls, and the walls themselves were not completely bare, but had many minor protruding parts, suggesting that the walls of the room was used for something.

Mozart closed his eyes for a second, and listened, trying to determine the purpose of a room like this, before opening his eyes after a couple of seconds.

"So that's what it is," Mozart nodded to himself, after which he took a step toward a display on the wall and peered through the window.

Behind the window was a man.

It was a young man - about twenty years old. His black short hair was slightly burned and hung only on one side of his face, covering one of his closed eyes. The second half of his face was burned - as if it was disfigured by an explosion. Blood did not run through the injured tissues, but even with just one look, Mozart could easily determine that the man was seriously injured in the explosion. Part of his face was completely burned and Mozart could see that in some places flesh was torn off almost completely, leaving only bare bone.

Heartbeats. A lot of slow, stuttering heartbeats - that's what Mozart had heard. The room he went into was really a fridge. More precisely, a storage facility for cryocapsules filled with the many people who were injured from the explosion.

Mozart peered at the face of the person immersed in cryosleep for a few seconds more.

Another victim of humanity's extinction, if in a somewhat indirect way.

It was strange to become regretful at someone's fate despite knowing that he might have been more fortunate than others. All the people who were not behind Chaldea's barrier died instantly. They were destroyed by the fire - they did not even have bones or dust left, while this person, in retrospect, while suffering great injury was preserved in a cryocapsule. There was even a chance that he could be cured...

And yet, in spite of such grim comparison, Mozart was looking at a victim face to face. Toward his scars, burns, coagulated crust of blood. Right now, he was looking into the face of one of those had become a casualty in the event known as the "Destruction of Humanity".

Mozart looked at him for a few seconds more.

Who was he?

Perhaps it was one of the selected forty-eight Masters. One of the magis chosen as a participant for the noble mission of researching a temporal anomaly and saving humanity. Maybe he was the noble son of some ancient family of magis. Maybe he was an excellent student of his academy. Or perhaps it may even be an upstart who rushed forward into Chaldea to get himself a Servant for personal use, in order to subsequently use his Servant for criminal activities. Mozart had many backgrounds that he could think of in this regard, and not one of them was unequivocally true or false. Without an answer from the unknown person, Mozart never be able to find out the answer to his questions.

Mozart sighed and took a step back.

"Oh!" - a female voice heard from behind Mozart startled him, causing him to turn toward the source of the sound.

"Ah, chief," Mozart nodded to the approaching Olga-Marie, "Do you need me for some reason?"

"No," Olga-Marie nodded instantly, after which she stared at Mozart, "Why did you come here?"

"Random chance," Mozart answered honestly, moving away from the cryocapsule, "And you, chief?"

"This is my Chaldea - I can go wherever I want," the chief answered him instantly, to which Mozart himself only nodded.

"True," he confirmed, "But any action is usually backed by a reason."

"Which doesn't concern you," the chief replied sharply, taking a step into the room, then stopped, looking at Mozart closely and, after nodding to herself, went to the cryocapsule that he was observing at the moment.

Approaching the capsule, however, Olga-Maria stopped, and then stared at the person behind the glass window. Silence settled for a couple of seconds.

"Is something bothering you, chief?" Mozart glanced at the girl, forcing her to turn towards him.

"Do I look like a person who likes to discuss his inner demons with strangers?" Olga-Marie looked aggravatingly at Mozart.

"No," he admitted, "But you look like a person who needs to vent."

Hearing this, Olga-Marie simply turned back towards the window to the cryocapsule again..

"I don't think such a thing would apply to someone like me, so mind your own business.," Olga-Marie nevertheless replied back after a couple of seconds of silence, continuing to stare at the man's face.

"Did you know each other?" Mozart asked a question after the silence become somewhat unbearable.

Olga-Marie, turning around sharply, looked at the Servant, as if deciding what she should do with him, after which she sighed and looked away, -" No. I don't think so. I think I saw him only at the briefing."

"Hmm, is that so," Mozart nodded. "Then why do you care about his condition?"

Olga-Marie cast an angry glance at Mozart, "How can I not?!"

The Servant only looked away thoughtfully after these words, "How often do you come here?"

Olga-Marie, continuing to look at Mozart, sighed. "You are a bad psychologist."

"Yes," Mozart agreed easily, "But I have never been a psychologist. I'm just a musician."

Olga-Marie reacted to this reply with a frown, turning away from Caster once more.

"I suppose…" -Mozart thoughtfully began, - "With words like "you are not to blame for this, it's all Lev's fault" I can not give you relief?"

Olga-Marie, closing her eyes, inhaled slowly and deeply, then exhaled, after which she looked at Mozart again, "Every day. I come here every day."

"You think it's your fault," Mozart finished knowingly.

Olga-Marie winced and turned away, - "Who else's but mine."

Mozart nodded, suspecting such an answer, after which he nodded again, waiting for the continuation.

"Even now..." Olga-Marie said quietly, "I... Could I have done something differently? Notice the actions of Lev. Strengthen security before reyshifting into the Singularity. Take more care in protecting the Core. To do something to circumvent this disaster…"

Mozart only sighed at this, - "Lev tricked not only you alone. No one noticed his subversive actions until the explosion occurred - and even after that he was outside the circle of suspects until he himself admitted guilt for the act. In addition, I doubt that he used simple explosives for sabotage. Most likely it was magic - and strong magic at that."

Olga-Marie, having heard this, only wrinkled her brows, clearly she had heard such arguments before, after which she shook her head.

"Probably," she agreed weakly, "But still ... What a shitty chief of me, huh?"

Mozart, having heard this, did not rush with any consolation for Olga-Marie. Not because he did not want to support her, but because he finally managed to get Olga-Marie to start talking.

"All my life I was brought up in the magnificent family of Animusphere," Olga-Marie said her last name with a kind of malicious mockery, "An ancient noble and degenerate family of magis. Degenerates down to me."

"Since childhood, they tell you about how much nobler and important you are compared to other people," Olga-Marie grinned at her story, "Magis or not, it doesn't matter. You are an Animusphere, which means you are already the best. It can mess with a growing girl's brain, you know."

Olga-Marie sighed, and then took out a pack of cigarettes from her breast pocket. Mozart sensed Ainz's mana from the pack, so Mozart could only conclude that it was a gift from him.

Olga-Marie set a cigarette alight, and then pulled it in with one eager breath.

"You study, you grow, you live with the stories about the greatness of your family," the girl inhaled the poisonous smoke once more, "Until one morning they tell you that your father once argued a little with another noble magi... And as a result, you are born as shitty as you are. Cursed, for fuck's sake"

Olga-Marie grinned, after which she looked at herself.

"Degenerates, ha," Olga-Marie grinned wryly, "I heard that the Matou family went through something like that. Their heirs became weaker and weaker until they completely lost their magic. The story with me is a little different, ha, but that doesn't make it much easier…"

Olga-Marie inhaled another smoke from the cigarette, burning it to the filter, and then threw it under her feet, not caring about the cleanliness of the room.

"And then you are put at the head of your father's most perfect project, although you only heard about it like twice in your whole life," Olga-Marie grinned bitterly. "And what should I do? They just told me that our family will degenerate, everything will start from me, and then they put me in charge of the organization with the influence and reach like that of the damned Bilderberg Club. At fourteen, fucking, years old! What did they expect from me?! That I will turn out to be a fucking super-genius, who will immediately begin to wring concessions from the "wise" magi who live their whole in politics and intrigue longer than I ever lived? Or that I will turn a super-corporation, which even my father could not finish, into a new Clock Tower?! What did they expect from me?!"

At that moment, Olga-Maria clenched her fist until her knuckles turned white, then she slowly sighed and exhaled. "No one expected anything from me, huh? Yes, and I did not seek anything more. A warm place, all the money and the influence in the world, endless parties and entertainment, and a loyal deputy, always finding resources for my stupid projects. They did not expect anything from me - and I did not do anything."

The chief took out another cigarette, after which she silently lit it and stared towards the cryocapsule, behind the glass of which some random Master was lying in cryosleep.

"I let everyone down and I understand that perfectly," Olga-Marie sighed. "If only I was a little smarter, a little stronger, a little better..."

"I don't think it would have made a difference," Mozart finally gave a voice, forcing Olga-Marie to look at him.

She was silent for a few seconds before agreeing lifelessly, "You're right. Indeed, it would not."

An uncomfortable silence fell.

"Is it possible to save them?" Finally, having finished another cigarette, Olga-Maria asked Mozart, nodding towards the rows of cryocapsules, "All of them?"

Mozart pondered this question.

Mozart was indeed somewhat lacking in many aspects when compared to other Servants. In battle, he would probably lose to most Servants. As an offensive magi, Cu Chulainn was ten steps ahead of him. Any cunning trap or artifact that he could create, Da Vinci could create in a tenth of the time and using only a third of the resources and mana he needed. But if we talk about potential... About some infinitely long process of achieving an unattainable goal, assuming that Mozart could move towards it endlessly... There were few Servants equal to him. It was like the question: if there is some incredibly large almost impossible goal, but still a way to complete it exists exists, then who will win? The one who moves at a negligible speed every second - or the one who travels half the distance in every second?

Mozart moved slowly, but with purpose that is why he always have the capability to achieve any goal.

"Yes," Mozart nodded. He was a specialist in Orpheus Magic — not the kind of magic that correlates well with the healing of the dying... But he was a Child of God. He could come up with something eventually, - "But not now. It takes a lot of time and effort…"

"I understand," Olga-Marie nodded, after which Mozart could see a faint smile on her lips, "But still... Thank you."

"For what?" Mozart glanced at the girl.

"For giving me support, at least," Olga-Marie grinned, lighting her next cigarette. Mozart could hear by her tone, by her heartbeat, by the sound of her breath - that she needed it - "For the fact that they can still be saved. Then, it may turn out that my patronage was not so catastrophic."

Mozart continued to stand silently before reaching a definite conclusion. After all, in Chaldea indeed sometimes there was nothing to do. Therefore, one could say that he just found a new thing to occupy his time.

"You don't want to remain so weak, do you?" Mozart glanced at the girl, forcing a grunt out of her.

"My, what a brilliant conclusion," - Olga-Marie smirked sarcastically, - "And so, what prompted you to such a conclusion?"

"Your words," Mozart answered with a smirk, "In such a case case, I think... I think I can help you with that."

"Huh?" Olga-Maria looked at Mozart with surprise. "How?"

"Well, I'm certainly just a humble musician," Mozart smiled. "But I'm still a Servant, A Caster and the Child of God. I think I can teach you something about magic."

"Hm," Olga-Marie grinned at it, "Is that so? But isn't your magic related to music? I believe I must warn you, I'm tonedeaf."

"It's a pity," Mozart sighed, "So you won't achieve heights in this magic... But for an ordinary magi, even some of the things that I can teach you are enough."

"That's indeed so," - Olga-Maria only grinned at it, - "So are you suggesting that you want to be my teacher?"

"Do you refuse?" Mozart raised one eyebrow.

"No," Olga-Marie sighed, "But I warn you right away. No "let me show you a new pose." Do not use your hands more than necessary, I am not as foolish as to ignore such things."

"I never intended to do anything like that," Mozart sighed, "You're not my type."

"So you're gay?" Olga-Maria grinned.

"What? No!" Mozart frowned at the girl. "I was married! "

"Not that that was proof in itself," Olga-Marie grinned.

"I had six children," Mozart objected to the girl.

"And there have been such precedents for such things before," she answered without blinking.

"Oh," Mozart stopped, after which he rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Well, the thing is... There is one. The one I love. And though you are beautiful, but I love only her."

"Better," Olga-Marie smiled, after which she thoughtfully reached for a new cigarette, "Because I think... I guess I also have such a person."

"So now you are ready to open your soul to me?" Mozart grinned.

"Go and die in a ditch," Olga-Marie curled languidly, then nodded. "So... When's the training?"

"Get ready and let's go," Mozart grinned, after which, noticing the perplexed look on Olga-Marie's face, laughed, "What? There's no better time than right now!"

"Okay," Olga-Marie sighed, and then nodded. "Go, I'll be right behind you."

Mozart just nodded, leaving Olga-Marie alone in the room.

Olga-Marie, on the other hand, simply peered again at the lone unresponsive person behind the glass of the cryocapsule.

"I will become stronger," she clenched her fist. "And then I will make a difference."

Name: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Race: Human (?)

Title: Child of God

Occupation: Servant of Ainz \ Olga-Marie's Teacher

Residence: Chaldea, staff lounge in the residential wing

Karma: +100 (Neutral-Good)


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