Saintess Noah, the Second Doomsday Button
Thanks to blocking Zara, I had some real breathing room time-wise. I'd already prepped the basics using telepathy, but I didn't need to kick off the full-blown "Gigachad Plan" right away. Hell, jumping into it now might've caused more problems than it solved.
Why? "Canaria."
"Yes."
"Would it be okay if I beat you like a dog on the dog days of summer?"
Zara's malignancy had messed up my head pretty bad.
"How much will you pay?"
"One gold coin."
"Make it a bit more."
"Forget it. Just kidding."
"...This time only, I'll take one gold coin."
"No, I said it was a joke."
"Woof woof! Grrr, arf arf!"
"Shut up."
"Yes, sir."
Zara's innate malignancy. Hatred toward the world, resentment, injustice, sorrow—all that negative crap had flooded in through telepathy. It wasn't my emotions, but...
I couldn't help getting indirectly affected. Isn't the biggest weakness of mind-reading types those negative, obsessive "horrible thoughts"?
"What's the dog days of summer, anyway?"
"A holiday where you eat nourishing food to build up stamina against the summer heat."
"But why beat dogs?"
"To eat 'em."
"Ah. Dogs get tender and tasty when boiled."
"What."
"Back when I scavenged on the streets, I had to eat whatever I could get."
Canaria casually dropped her grim backstory like it was no big deal. This world really was a tough place to live.
"Didn't you like dogs?"
"I do. They're cute and loyal. But survival trumps personal tastes. Better than starving to death."
"...Let's eat something tasty today."
"Yes."
Thanks to Canaria, that malignancy gnawing at my brain felt a bit washed away. I chuckled and conjured an illusion—not Gigachad or gold this time, but food.
French fries, cola, and bulgogi burgers appeared on the table.
"What... is this?"
"Hamburgers."
"Looks like a round sandwich."
"Yeah, kinda."
"But it's just an illusion, so what's the point?"
Canaria reached for a burger, but her hand passed right through. It was only a telepathic projection image.
I could distort senses on a big scale like when threatening the Scales Priestess, but delicate interactions like with real objects? No dice.
High-Performance Telepathy wasn't illusion magic.
"Part of the practice includes stuff like that. I'm feeling a bit off right now."
But it wasn't impossible. Slam super-intense sensations into the brain to make it mistake them for reality. Make it impossible to tell actual senses from telepathically projected ones.
Texture, weight, mouthfeel... recreate it all. In reality, she's just clenching her fist, but distort the hand's sensations too so she thinks she's gripping a burger.
"Try grabbing it again?"
"Pardon? Alright."
Canaria gripped the fake burger. Her hand clenched empty air—basically a fist.
But to her senses...
"Ooh. I can feel the texture."
"Eat it."
"Got it."
The bun squished, crisp lettuce crunched, bulgogi patty mashed. Canaria's eyes went wide tasting 21st-century fast food for the first time.
She was chomping away when she suddenly groaned.
"Ngh?! I b-bit my thongue..."
"Ah, sorry."
Her real tongue movement didn't match the projected one, so she bit it while chewing. Still at this level, huh.
I couldn't control her body movements. All I could implant was the illusion of moving.
"Don't try to chew—just let it happen. It's the same anyway."
"Yeth... got it..."
And so, using Canaria as my guinea pig, I practiced finer illusions.
The simplest trick: link her to someone actually eating a sandwich, swapping the taste to burger. Like projecting Canaria's emotions or memories onto Priscilla.
"Young master..."
"Yeah?"
"It was tasty, but... it felt so hollow."
"Want me to add some satiety?"
"Pay me in gold..."
"Ah, fine."
I pulled a gold coin from my pocket, and life sparked in Canaria's vacant stare at empty air. Sparkle sparkle. Her pupils glittered like the coin.
"Yeah, I like this way more than tasty food."
"Feels like all my dignity upkeep goes to you."
"A true gentleman spares no expense for loyal retainers."
"Smooth talker."
"Thank you."
My High-Performance Telepathy wasn't much use in combat. Heroes spot evil in pitch-black darkness, demon lords share senses with monsters—that ramps up the risk big time. Someone like Zara with Heavenly Martial Body has top-tier combat traits and perfect body control.
Telepathy with no distance limit or sense restrictions sounds omnipotent at first glance—but
This world was ridiculously high-powered. Full of stuff way beyond human limits.
And.
"This next Doomsday Button has all those elements."
"Sounds tricky."
"Yeah. And from here on, we're in 'absurdity' territory."
"Wasn't Zara's fate absurd enough?"
"Nah, it's different... Like, whether you save or kill her, the world ends?"
The moment Priscilla dies, the world ends. The moment Zara finds happiness, the world ends.
That's Endless's rule. In other words, don't kill Priscilla, make Zara miserable, and no apocalypse.
Take the fated "Hero Slayer" route for doom delay... Possible, anyway.
"But Noah is different. Totally different. Leave her be, world ends... Kill her recklessly, world ends another way."
"Why?"
"She has God's love. Kill Noah, God descends and ends the world."
Saintess Noah. That was the name of this Doomsday Button.
The saintess was Zara's antithesis. This world was like a seesaw tipping left and right—the noblest and vilest coexisted.
Just as the world ends from a hated girl, it ends from a divinely loved one.
"Zara gives me a headache in a different way."
"Got painkillers?"
"Nah, I mean my head hurts because of her."
"Ah."
If Zara harbored malignancy inside... this one harbored goodness.
"The opposite of that sweet girl? Hard to picture. Like the world's most wicked person?"
"More a difference in direction."
Say there's a religion teaching: "Love one another." "Love your neighbor as yourself." "Love your enemies."
Great words. Sublime teachings draw people like butterflies to flowers. Folks nod, shout it's right and just.
Everyone wants to be good. No one sins on purpose.
And then, those craving goodness step outside the temple, sword to enemy's throat, and proclaim: Love your enemies.
"Forcing goodness is a blind fool's bad habit. Good intentions, shitty results."
"You've suffered a lot."
Zara's goodness was for herself. She did good deeds to deny her own malignancy. Never forced it on others.
But the saintess? Different. Her innate goodness was absolute—God's gift, owed to everyone.
Her ultimate goal: universal salvation.
"Like a justice hero? Forcing righteousness, being a nuisance..."
"Close, but more obsessive and vicious."
Heroes don't force justice on others. They judge by their own code. That's punishment.
The saintess... corrupts others.
"Canaria, what's happiness to you?"
"Gold coins. Seeing their yellow gleam, feeling their hefty weight, counting them and marveling at my wealth—I'm happy. Spending money's great. Having so much I can't spend it all. Saving it, blowing it. Even blowing one coin in a day and regretting it."
"...Yeah, clear-cut. But is that happiness for others?"
"Hm..."
"Nah?"
"No."
"Happiness varies. No universal way to make everyone happy—and there shouldn't be. But the saintess pursues everyone's happiness."
She wants all saved. All happy.
But universal happiness doesn't exist. Rich happiness ≠ poor happiness. Sometimes they clash. Some thrive on others' misery.
So, true "everyone happy"...
Only by making everyone identical.
And the saintess had that power. To strip away individuality.
"The moment she succeeds, the world... might as well end. All personal identity erased."
This was the world's "absurdity.".