To the Summit of the Mount of Demonic Beasts (4)

Deep within the cave, a man lay tightly bound.

His flesh was so extraordinarily obese that if one were to roll him down the mountain's slope, he would surely tumble like a snowball in a cartoon.

"This bastard's no good, is he?"

I don't particularly believe in physiognomy, but looking at something like this makes me think face-reading is a science after all.

The sagging belly fat, the flaring nostrils, the thin eyes buried in flesh. Anyone could see it was a face plastered thick with spite and greed.

And on top of that, that horrific screaming, wailing like a wild boar hit by a taser.

"Aaaargh—!! My, m-m-m-my treasure! Thieves! Uwaaagh! Aagh! Aaaargh!! Dieee, just die! Drop dead! My fucking treasure!!"

Bound by rope, his thrashing was limited to wriggling in place, but it still inflicted considerable damage on my eyeballs just watching.

I never wanted to see some fat ugly bastard's bondage play.

Conduct: extremely poor.

On top of the mental shock he had dealt my eyes and psyche, there was not the slightest hint of remorse, and the crimes he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had committed were thoroughly vile.

Bang bang bang. Death sentence.

The little judge inside my heart slammed the gavel and declared it.

This was a verdict no lawyer, no matter how often he raised objections, could ever overturn.

My fingers itched.

Part of me wanted to drop a lightning bolt on that pig right then and there and fry him to death—but killing him that way would be far too merciful.

The paladin was right. Even death was a luxury for this creature.

A far more thorough punishment was required.

"Isn't there some good method…"

The scouting party had left the cave and was advancing smoothly toward the summit.

For a short while, it would be fine even if I wasn't watching them.

All sorts of miscellaneous methods bubbled up like foam.

The ones that came to mind immediately were thoroughly banal.

Throw him into a blazing furnace, boil him alive in scalding oil, stretch him on the rack, dismember him… every one of them was horrific, yet each felt somehow lacking.

This bastard needs something more than that.

I moved the screen toward the place where the victims had been buried. A low stone cairn came into view. Someone who had still been alive only moments ago now lay interred there.

The traces of one who had been eaten by a demon.

That pig had been feasting on them. On human lives, no less.

The sight of the pig's life force swelling in real time while the sacrifice's life force dwindled was more than enough to summon an instinctive revulsion.

Even death was a luxury for this pig.

Judging by how bloated his body had become, the number of sacrifices he had consumed was beyond counting.

…Ah. I wonder if there's a skill like that.

A decent idea suddenly struck me.

I busily moved my fingers toward the shop. I scrolled rapidly, scanning the "Curse" and "Debuff" categories.

…

I ransacked the shop for quite a long time. Not only "Curse" and "Debuff," but "Buff," "Attack," "Defense"—I combed through every category exhaustively…

Yet the kind of skill I was looking for simply wasn't there.

I had steeled myself to some degree, knowing it was a rather detailed request, but now that it had come to this, I felt a little at a loss.

This was awkward.

"Hmm…"

Was there really no way? Did I have to give up on wrecking that pig bastard?

…No. There had to be a method.

No. Wait.

I just needed to change my way of thinking.

If it didn't exist, I would make it myself. There was no need to be bound by the skills already given.

Something deep inside my head began to stir, little by little. A small, fleeting thing that seemed ready to vanish at any moment.

I closed my eyes and concentrated desperately. What I recalled was the sensation from the time I had met Kenelm on the sandy beach.

I desperately revived the memory of that moment when I had slipped my hand through a thin membrane and drawn something out.

Something deep in my mind tickled and was subtly stimulated, growing larger and larger. A thin thread-like thing swayed at my fingertips.

At the same time, I felt something inside my body draining away.

The clearer the thing in my hand became, the faster whatever was leaving my body escaped.

Almost there. Just a little more.

…—Whoosh.

Everything was darkness.

I sank into the dark, into the depths of my inner self.

The things that had been in the room faded away. The bed vanished, the desk vanished, the walls vanished.

A faint sound of water reached me. The cold touch of water against the tips of my toes.

The sound of waves rushing toward me.

…Whooosh—Crash!

I carefully opened my eyes.

What I saw was an endlessly spreading black sea.

I was standing upon the sea.

Standing upon five-colored, radiant seawater that had not mixed with the black ocean.

Existing purely as myself.

Whooosh—Crash! Crash!

The sea, turbid and dark as ink, surged toward me from every direction.

It swayed and shattered as it roughly pushed forward, and somehow its form reminded me of children running toward their parents.

"Ugh…!"

Something inside my body continued to flow out. Its size was perhaps about that of an apple?

Once this unidentifiable thing within me had completely drained away, I would clearly no longer be able to remain here.

With little time given, I quickly recited to myself.

What I summoned was a single screen. A mirror that reflected the world on the other side.

Whoosh!

A handful of seawater rose up, undulated, and took the form of a mirror. Its surface wavered slightly, but this much was enough.

I could see Cagan thrashing inside the cave. Still writhing in his ugly form.

I counted his sins and declared them.

Unrestrained greed, envy of others' possessions, violence against the weak, secretly concealed murder, human sacrifice for gold… countless sins unfurled before my eyes. Cagan's past evil deeds were laid bare.

"You—"

The moment I opened my mouth, whatever was inside my body drained even faster. I was in no condition to speak at all.

"Ugh…"

A wave of dizziness made me lose my balance for a moment.

Whoosh—

Seawater climbed my body.

As if it should have been this way from the beginning, it wagged its tail like a dog greeting its master ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and embraced me. The cold seawater soaked my form.

The something that had been draining so rapidly from my body slowed a little. At the same time, power surged in.

An endless sense of omnipotence and a soaring exaltation, as if my soul were expanding infinitely, filled me.

My soul rose a dimension higher—no, soared into a distant sky. Climbing endlessly, flying upward, I finally became aware of my own power.

Words become reality.

My words now become reality.

My mouth opened, and a resonance of unfathomable depth, different from my usual voice, flowed out. A majesty as if hundreds of wind instruments were singing at once.

And the words I had intended to speak were uttered of their own accord in an archaic, lofty register.

The words spoken become reality. As if it had always been so, everything would unfold exactly according to my word.

"Hah…"

The moment I finished speaking—

Whoosh!

The seawater that had embraced my body collapsed as if shattering, and an empty hollowness filled me. My body, which had risen slightly, was sucked somewhere against my will.

Time was up.

This is as far as it goes.

The surface of the mirror floating in the air undulated. Like a lake into which a water droplet had fallen, it began to shake and heave this way and that.

"My, my treasure!! Wh-what—! What is this, kack!! Cough-hup!"

Through the wavering surface came Cagan's flustered voice. Even in my slight exhaustion, a smile formed at the corner of my mouth.

If it had gone exactly as I intended, that creature would suffer for a very long time indeed, paying the price for his sins.

In the final moment.

Through the shaking mirror, a small stone cairn caught my eye. Standing lonely amid the blowing snow, keeping its place.

No one would come or go; it would simply be buried and forgotten in the flow of time.

It was the grave of one who had suffered unjustly at a demon's hands, and who even after death had closed his eyes in agony without being granted eternal rest.

…Could I do it?

No. I had to.

"Ghhk—!"

I clenched my teeth and gathered my strength. I scraped together the nameless things scattered throughout my body.

A pain as if sharp blades were scraping every muscle and every inch of skin slammed into my brain.

It was the backlash of forcibly gathering something that had already run dry.

Drip.

For an instant my vision turned red. A brief thought—so this is what the world looks like through red lenses—passed, and then I felt hot liquid running down my cheeks.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Hup…!"

I even began to feel the illusion that every fine blood vessel in my body was bursting with a series of pops.

My body had clearly reached its limit.

"Ghhh—! J-just a little… more!"

Gathering every last scrap of strength in my body, I formed a small lump of light at my fingertips.

A tiny sphere. I hurled it with all my might.

My trembling hand shook unsteadily, and the sphere flew in a slightly uncertain trajectory, yet fortunately it landed safely upon the stone cairn.

The moment it touched the cairn, the sphere melted into it and vanished. Only then did I feel a measure of relief.

"With this… may you…"

Rest in peace.

I hoped my final greeting to the dead would reach him.

I let my body go limp, no longer resisting the force that was sucking me away.

Having drawn even the strength I had suckled as an infant, my entire body screamed, and my eyes gradually closed.

They say even the strongest man in the world cannot lift his own eyelids—that saying fit perfectly.

I tried to resist with every ounce of will, but my vision steadily darkened and my eyelids shut.

"…th… thank…"

Just before I sank into deep sleep, an unfamiliar male voice reached me.

It was not my imagination.

It had not been a futile act after all.

"You fucking bastards—! Give me back my treasure! It's m-mine, I tell you!! Uwaaaaagh!!"

Inside the dark, deep cave.

Cagan, bound by sturdy rope, twisted his body and thrashed. Spittle flew in every direction from his widely opened mouth, and his bloodshot eyes looked ready to burst at any moment.

"Treasure, treasuretreasure—!! Aaaaaaah!! Ghhhaaa—!"

He strained with all his might to free himself from the rope, yet his soft flesh, without a single scrap of muscle, could never overcome the sturdy bonds.

Cagan screamed.

He wanted to tear those arrogant—no, those evil thieves outside the cave to shreds this very instant and feed them to the pigs!

Those wicked, filthy robber bastards who had stolen the treasure more precious to him than his own life!

He twisted his entire body with every ounce of strength.

He struggled desperately to break the rope, crawl across the floor, and somehow reach the outside of the cave.

It was thrashing made possible only because he had not yet realized that Hans had already sealed the cave entrance tightly with a massive boulder.

He screamed and cursed.

He wailed endlessly, yearning for his treasure, then raged at the robbers once more and screamed again.

"My, my treasure—!!"

At the very moment his throat was about to burst from shouting—

An anomaly occurred.

"Uwaaa… ah? Wh-what?"

The rope came undone.

The rope that had tightly bound his body loosened as smoothly as fine silk.

Cagan, who had been screaming at the top of his lungs, rose to his feet in a daze.

The anomaly did not end there.

"Hah… hhhup? W-wa, water! Waaater!!"

A sudden, blazing thirst crashed over him.

His throat, parched dry as desert sand, screamed for a single drop of water.

The dry, cracked throat felt as if he had swallowed thousands of thorns; even the slightest movement split it open and delivered horrific pain.

Cagan clutched his throat and coughed.

Water—he needed water!

"Kack, cough!"

Only then did he notice that water had risen to his waist.

How long had water been filling this place?

He didn't know.

He couldn't know, but drinking water came first.

Cagan bent at the waist and reached out to drink. The lapping water was extremely cold. If he drank it, it would surely moisten his throat.

"Hah— hhhup?! What the—! Th-this is ridiculous! Kack!"

The moment he stretched out his hand, the risen water fled from it. The more he reached, the lower it sank, until only the bone-dry cave floor remained.

Yet when he straightened his back, the water once again ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lapped and rose to his waist!

When he reached, the water fled; when he straightened, cool water rose again to his waist.

A situation that defied all understanding, utterly incomprehensible.

"Grrraaah—! Uwaaaagh! Kack, cough-hup!"

Cagan's blood boiled to the roots of his hair. An incomprehensible situation compounded by thirst made him feel as if he were losing his mind.

Gurgle—

To make matters worse, hunger crashed over him as well.

Before his eyes hung a luscious fruit. How long had this been here? Fruit growing in a cave without a single ray of light? Was it even edible?

A brief doubt crossed Cagan's mind, yet the horrific hunger instinctively drove his hand toward the fruit. Soothing the hunger that felt as if his stomach were tearing came first.

"Khh—hup! Uuugh…"

As far as his hand stretched, the branch lifted itself higher. No matter how hard he strained, it remained just out of reach.

When he lowered his hand in despair, the branch moved once more and flaunted the luscious fruit right before Cagan's eyes.

"Ah, aaaa…!! Uwaaaa—!"

Cool water and luscious fruit lay right before him, yet they would not permit his hand. All he could do was thrash meaninglessly, writhing in horrific hunger and thirst.

I have to get out—I have to escape! Something's wrong!

He had to get out. He had to escape this cave.

Where to?

"Augh… kack."

Wherever his feet happened to take him.

He waded through the water. He walked and walked and walked again. Enduring thirst and hunger, he walked for tens of minutes, for hours. How long had he walked?

He returned once more to the branch laden with fruit. He was trapped here. No matter which direction he walked, he always came back to the same place.

How was this possible? Walking out in every direction from a cave in the first place? Was this even a cave? Was it a demon's trick? Had he died and come to hell?

"Wh-why… why!!"

Nothing was certain, yet one thing alone was certain.

Endless hunger and thirst.

These would never release him. Like hungry ghosts they would cling to him and torment him for eternity.

"Aaaaaaagh! Why me, why me! Why the hell me—! Cough-hup!! Kack!"

A roar of rage and agony echoed emptily through the cave.

And that was all there was.