Chapter 34: A Choice That Must Be Made

After listening to Venti’s explanation, Bronya felt a mix of melancholy and confusion.
She was not a stubborn or blindly loyal person. If she were, she would have cut ties with Venti the moment he expressed his views on the Supreme Guardian.

But at the same time—
Bronya harbored a deep, almost incomprehensible affection for Cocolia, her adoptive mother.
The fond memories of her childhood, the educational values instilled in her as she grew up, and the responsibility of becoming the Supreme Guardian that she would inevitably inherit from her mother—
In every scene that shaped Bronya’s life, Cocolia’s presence was there.

Sometimes, Bronya wondered if it was precisely because her mother poured all her warmth into her that she appeared so cold and ruthless toward the people, even indirectly taking too many lives.
But none of this could be summarized as “necessary sacrifices,” nor should she, as the beneficiary, forgive her mother on behalf of the victims.

Even the sacrifices of the Silvermane Guards were made with their consent. Only such immense courage, willingly laying down one’s life for others, could be called heroic.
Otherwise, forcing some to die unconditionally for others simply because one held power—how could such actions align with the concept of Preservation?

Therefore, Venti and the others’ desire to end Cocolia’s term and push for an emergency proxy bill to make Bronya the Supreme Guardian wasn’t wrong.
But to enact such a bill, the Supreme Guardian would have to commit an unforgivable mistake, as Hiliya had when the people took her life. Otherwise, the prerequisites for the emergency proxy bill wouldn’t be met.

Unless… Bronya could convince her mother to step down and pass the title of Supreme Guardian to her early.
But the transition of the Supreme Guardian’s position wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Moreover, in Cocolia’s eyes, the position already belonged to Bronya. Why the rush?

This was something that, by common sense, would never be allowed. No matter how much her mother loved her, she wouldn’t indulge her in such a significant matter.
As for persuading her mother with reason? If Cocolia could still heed advice, the current situation wouldn’t exist.

That left Bronya with very few choices.
If she truly joined the resistance, her mother would undoubtedly be furious and deeply disappointed by her “betrayal,” becoming even colder and more extreme.
For Bronya, this was a difficult choice to make.

Even though she knew deep down that having her mother step down was the best course of action, the bond they had shared for so long wasn’t something she could simply sever.
The dilemma tormented her, making her want to escape from answering altogether.

Venti sighed helplessly. He had known this would happen, which was why he hadn’t wanted to rush into telling her.
But he hadn’t expected Svarog to inadvertently reveal it first. No—he shouldn’t blame Svarog. He had underestimated the depth of Bronya’s feelings for Cocolia.

To make her feel better, Venti spoke up.
“I can see that this is hard for you to accept right now. Whether as a daughter or as the Supreme Guardian’s heir, you need some time to process this—”

“No, you don’t need to comfort me. I know doing as you’ve planned is the right thing. I’m just… hesitating.”
Bronya shook her head, her expression desolate and dejected.
“I’m sorry. I do need some time to think about this. Can you wait a little longer for my answer?”

Venti exchanged a glance with Svarog, who, knowing he had made a mistake, handed the conversation back to Venti.
Understanding that he couldn’t rush things, Venti didn’t press the issue further. Instead, he brought up the matter of the sisters in the Fragmentum.

This piqued Clara’s interest, as she had felt she couldn’t contribute much before. She retrieved the surviving automatons from Rivet Town to help search for information.
Since the girl’s sister would trade scavenged items for supplies, setting a few parameters and asking other scavengers about the corresponding features quickly led them to a possible candidate.

Though their names were unrecorded, someone had indeed seen them there, confirming that they were real people and not Bronya’s “hallucination.”
An old scavenger who remembered them also told the two that not far from where the girl lived, there was a defensive line set up by automatons.

Though it had become an “automatons’ graveyard” due to Fragmentum erosion and monster activity, the area was still frequented by scavengers looking for valuable parts. The girl’s sister might have gone there to find parts to sell.

With this information, their search was no longer as aimless as before.
To distract Bronya, Venti, who had some recollection of the incident, decided to take her to Rivet Town.

Though it might sound cruel, Venti wouldn’t endlessly accommodate Bronya’s personal feelings.
He understood her hesitation and knew how difficult it was to make a choice that would affect so many lives and the fate of Belobog.

Compared to them, who had suddenly appeared, no matter how cold and ruthless Cocolia might seem to the outside world, she had indeed given all her warmth and love to Bronya.
The depth of this bond couldn’t be easily dismissed by outsiders. It was natural for Bronya to feel indecisive, but the situation demanded that everyone find their place.

Bronya was Cocolia’s daughter, but she was also the Supreme Guardian’s heir—a leader who should consider the people and seek a path to survival for them.
She could plead for Cocolia, saying her actions were justified, but what about the homeless and those whose lives were upended by Cocolia’s decrees? Who would speak for their injustice?

If Bronya truly couldn’t bring herself to oppose her mother, Venti wouldn’t force her. Instead, he would find another, more suitable candidate—
But by then, they might no longer be able to call each other friends.

Though he believed she would eventually make the right choice, the thought of their friendship ending spurred Venti to take action.
Meanwhile, Bronya, equally bitter about the future, followed him like a lost child, neither speaking up nor leaving.

The atmosphere between them grew heavy.
Bronya showed signs of struggle several times but ultimately couldn’t make up her mind.
Her expression, as if she had been abandoned, made Venti stop in his tracks. Distracted, Bronya bumped into his green robe and stumbled forward.

The young man steadied the once-confident and proud swan-like girl, gazing into her dimmed eyes, which now seemed hollow and in need of filling.
Finally, he sighed softly and said,
“—The journey seems a bit dull. How about I tell you a story? I think the way it makes you think could be helpful.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been too indecisive.”
Knowing she was at fault, Bronya instinctively apologized, then added,
“Please, go ahead. If it’s a story told by Venti, I’ll listen to the end.”

“Then I’m grateful for your attention. This is a proper story meant to provoke thought. But before that, I think we need to establish a consensus.”
“…A consensus?”
Perhaps sensing that the upcoming conversation would determine the fate of the city, Bronya didn’t pull away from Venti’s hand but instead looked at him with solemn eyes.

“Our goal, or rather our intention, is to ensure the survival of everyone in Belobog, not to continue infighting in the face of a ‘great enemy’ until we meet a tragic end, right?”
Venti, no longer his usual carefree self, spoke with unusual seriousness.

It was often at times like these that Bronya could truly feel the weight of Venti’s resolve, rather than the lighthearted demeanor he usually displayed.
More importantly, he had given her a choice—one that didn’t require her to follow the rules and allowed her to witness hope.

She was well aware of the consequences of such a choice and knew the path it represented would be difficult. But this responsibility was hers to bear, and Venti couldn’t help her forever. Continuing to evade it would only be shameful.

With that in mind, Bronya nodded firmly.
“I agree with you on that.”

“Good. As long as we share this consensus, I don’t think we’ll reach the worst outcome.”
Venti’s tense expression relaxed, and he offered a gentle smile.
“Then, please listen to this story—”