What Is That Thing?
“What is that?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you about earlier.”
This bastard—what the hell did he bring into my house? More importantly, how did something like this get into my home without me noticing?
I always leave a clone in the mansion. It’s nearly impossible for anything happening inside or around it to escape my notice.
“I met that guy in the Great Forest after you left. He’s been living with me ever since, then he followed my disciple around. After the disciple died and vanished, I saw him in my room today.”
That’s not the point, you lunatic.
Did Howard really not know? He could sense my presence, couldn’t he?
I couldn’t even move a muscle the moment I laid eyes on it.
“Meow.”
It lifted one front paw like it was waving hello and let out a cat-like mew.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like cats? But as you can see, this ain’t no ordinary kitty. He’s a lot like you.”
Its appearance was definitely that of a cat. Pitch-black fur without a single stray hair, and it was an ethereal body. The soul itself was shaped like a cat.
The soul itself maintained its form while possessing a physical presence.
“I used to call it Fairy Cat, but my disciple named it Molrang.”
Neither fairy nor Molrang. How could a soul have a physical form? It defied common sense and the natural order.
So what was the answer? This cat was a god.
And probably a powerful one at that.
The fact that Juno hadn’t intervened despite it roaming freely for so long meant either it was too strong for Juno to touch, or it truly had no impact on the world. My guess was the former.
I gestured for Howard to leave.
When I silently told him to get out, he pulled a sour face, but I tossed him a bottle of liquor from my subspace and he happily took it and went on his way.
Now only I and the cat-shaped entity remained in the room.
I locked eyes with the cat for a long while before cautiously asking through my clone’s soul voice.
[Might I have the honor of knowing your true name?]
Just in case, I kept it polite.
[They call me Bastet. Also known as Molrang.]
The entity’s voice was far friendlier than expected. It was basically telling Howard and his disciple everything up to now just to survive. Wasn’t this like calling Kutula an octopus?
[Lady Bastet, have you come seeking me for some purpose?]
[I didn’t come for you. I came for Howard, but now you’ve piqued my interest too.]
Great, another high-and-mighty being taking an interest in me. I just got out of some major trouble not long ago.
[I see. Then will you be staying here with Howard?]
[I like this place.]
Bastet hopped onto the windowsill, curled up into a ball, and yawned.
Looks like I’d be sharing a room with a god in cat form from now on.
[Is there anything special you desire?]
[Love cats.]
I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them. I went out, found Wider, and ordered him to amend the territorial laws of Akasha Viscountcy: anyone abusing cats would face execution.
After that, Bastet stayed in my office.
Since it wasn’t a real cat, there were no issues with litter or shedding, but it was still distracting.
Bastet truly did nothing. It never spoke to me or interfered in my work.
I started to wonder if Juno hadn’t touched it not because it was a powerful god, but because it really did absolutely nothing.
So I voiced the question I’d been harboring inside.
[Lady Bastet.]
[What is it?]
[Did you help Howard raise his realm?]
Howard had always been strong with traits perfect for growth, but rising three realms in such a short time was inexplicable. The moment I met Bastet, that mystery seemed solved.
[Yes.]
I knew it. There’s no way you’d do nothing.
That cleared up my doubts about Howard’s strength.
Bastet spent its days on the office windowsill seemingly asleep, though it would occasionally vanish and reappear. But when it was gone, no method could track it.
I asked Howard about Bastet, but surprisingly, he knew next to nothing. He thought it was some kind of beast and had raised it because it was cute. He’d only cared for it inside the Great Forest; outside, his wife and disciple had looked after it.
Howard’s disciple was the second son of a count’s family who’d held a baronetcy. After receiving Howard’s teachings and returning home, the eldest son suddenly died, and the disciple inherited the countship.
My guess? Definitely Bastet’s doing.
All in all, it seemed like a being that helped those close to it rather than harming them.
To avoid offending Bastet, I’d issued a rather extreme decree, but the territory’s reaction wasn’t bad. Few people abused cats anyway, and the mood was, “The Saint must have his reasons.”
No need to dig for reasons, but cats suddenly multiplied in the territory, rats vanished, and a few residents who secretly caught and ate cats turned up dead. Thinking of Bastet’s occasional disappearances, the culprit was obvious.
In any case, Bastet’s presence brought no harm to the territory. With rats gone, illnesses decreased; hunters’ yields rose significantly; accidents dropped noticeably.
I didn’t ask directly, but I figured it was Bastet’s power.
One ordinary day, as I sat in my office manipulating several magic pens to record notes, Bastet narrowed its eyes from the windowsill and said,
[Don’t trust gods.]
Then it closed its eyes again.
You’re a god yourself...
No matter how friendly Bastet was, the recent events had drilled into me that gods didn’t value humans or other lifeforms highly. I wouldn’t fully trust them going forward.
A few days later, I visited the dwarves on the New Continent.
I’d already dropped off the materials they’d requested several times. They asked for a few more, which were for remodeling the house I’d built them.
Thanks to the dwarves, the modest cabin became a proper luxury home. But they’d adjusted the doorknobs and such to dwarf height for their own dwelling, making it a bit inconvenient for humans.
“Welcome.”
I unloaded the requested items and food into the storage and warehouse, then stepped outside. The dwarves, who’d been tinkering on the roof, spotted me and greeted me.
“Doing well?”
“Of course. Very well.”
“How much longer for the house remodel?”
“Almost done.”
Their construction skills were top-notch, but I was eager to see them build the airship.
My clones dispatched from the eastern continent in various sea directions were still flying endlessly over ocean skies.
The dwarves had flown for over a year, so even with luck on direction, my clones would need that long to reach any continent settled by other races.
“So, straight to airship production?”
“Something like that. First, we need tools for building the airship.”
Seemed like it’d take more time here. I’d estimated years, maybe even longer.
“Got it. Carry on, then.”
I bid them farewell and headed to my next destination.
I might look idle, but I was busy. In terms of sheer movement, probably the busiest person alive.
I arrived at the northern coastline of Narisen Kingdom on the western continent’s east side.
This was where the man I sought lived.
Midway up the cliffs on the northern shore was a small cave. Step inside, and it opened into a spacious, luxurious chamber.
“Greetings, Antariel Drogna.”
Despite my sudden appearance and greeting, the man called Antariel didn’t flinch.
“Who’re you?”
He eyed me with keen interest instead.
“They call me Saint Germain Akasha.”
“Oh! The second Saint? What an honor.”
Even after I revealed myself, Antariel showed no surprise or intimidation. He had the leisure of absolute power.
In the rankings of the world’s strongest I’d once shared with Argin, this man currently held first place.
In other words, by my judgment, the man before me was the strongest human.
“What business does a Saint have with me?”
“Are you planning to abandon your humanity?”
I’d come to Antariel personally because of what he was attempting.
“Is abandoning humanity a problem?”
Not really. It didn’t concern me much.
But I’d come because I was curious about his thinking.
“No, it doesn’t. I was simply wondering about your thoughts.”
“Hoh? I figured you’d try to stop me.”
“You abandoning humanity has nothing to do with me.”
Antariel had reached the limit as a human. Or so he believed.
His chosen path: discard his humanity.
He looked human on the outside, but large parts had already been modified.
“Still, if I go wild, the damage would be huge.”
“Not my problem. I’m from the Ether Empire.”
“Haha! Fair enough.”
He was on the cusp of a major procedure.
Up to now, he’d replaced skin, limbs, major organs with beast or otherworldly materials.
All that remained was the heart.
“What’s the final material?”
“This was hard to obtain.”
Antariel walked into the cave depths, picked up a small box, and opened it. Inside writhed a grotesque, dark-red lump of flesh.
I had no idea what it was. It wasn’t the heart of any creature from this world.
And I didn’t know how it ended up in his hands either. It meant my clone watching him had missed something.
“Know what this is?”
“No clue. Doesn’t seem from this world.”
“Spot on. It’s not.”
A sudden headache hit me. Should I just kill him now?
Sensing the killing intent I’d unconsciously leaked, Antariel flinched and backed away holding the box.
“Saint, you’re strong, huh?”
“Stronger than you, I’d say.”
Antariel might be the strongest human, but including non-humans changed everything.
“Where’d you get it?”
He didn’t answer.
“Gonna stop me?”
“No.”
If I wanted to stop him, he’d be dead already. As I’d said from the start, I was just curious about his intent to transcend humanity.
“So, what do you plan to become once you shed your humanity?”
“Obvious, isn’t it? I’ll become a god.”
I didn’t know exactly what that heart-lump was.
But becoming a god just by swapping that? Didn’t he take gods too lightly?
At least the gods I knew weren’t that easy to become.
“I see.”
I didn’t mock him. In a way, I even rooted for him.
Challenging godhood as a human—the very thing gods dismissed as insignificant. Success would be monumental.
“That all? Aren’t you a Saint?”
“What’s a Saint supposed to do?”
Antariel fell silent at my question, then reverted to his confident self.
“Then watch. Witness the moment I become a god.”