The Second Revelation
A deep, dark place.
A nest of the blasphemous and the corrupt.
Unquenchable flames and lava seethed without end, while a soul-freezing chill filled the air so completely that time itself seemed to stop. There was polluted land that rotted the body with every breath drawn, and perverse, unholy creatures that writhed and crawled across it.
Truly, a nest of demons.
Among them, occupying no small stretch of territory, Nurgle's true form snapped his eyes open.
KRAAAAAAAAGH!!! HRAAAA!! Hrrk—HRAAA!!
A scream of pure agony thundered through every corner of the realm. Nameless worm-shaped demons crawling around Nurgle burst apart on the spot.
Nurgle thrashed the tentacles that formed his body without restraint, slamming them against everything nearby. From the tips of those thick tentacles, something bright yellow dripped and melted whatever it touched, while his enormous eyes rolled wildly in every direction.
Hraa—AAAA!!! ■!! ■!! AAAAA—!!
Nurgle's anguished howl—or scream—carried a tangle of emotions. Contempt, hatred, rage, envy… yet the feelings wrapping around his body ran deeper still.
Fear. Terror. Anxiety. Agitation. Confusion… All of them shook Nurgle's soul and drove him into a frenzy.
■!! Ah, that hateful, terrifying name!!
Nurgle's vast pupils trembled violently.
■ has returned!!
For a long while he raved, trying to cast off the fear, until at last enough time had passed that he managed to calm himself. The ground around him was gouged and shattered as if a storm had torn through. Demons that had been nearby lay dead in heaps, but Nurgle did not spare them so much as a glance as he muttered to himself.
Why has ■ returned at all? No—more than that, how? How has ■'s power returned!!
Nurgle remembered it clearly. When he had tried to take as a test subject that worm of a human who dared oppose his avatar—when the human's body and rank had seemed rather interesting—■'s power had settled into that human's flesh.
That hateful power was something he could never forget even if he tried. It was unmistakably the power of ■.
Mmm…
A blade had slipped through a moment of carelessness, driven into his avatar, and he had been forcibly banished. Nurgle stroked his body, which still ached with a dull, lingering sting.
He remembered it clearly.
In the distant past, how fiercely ■ and the demons had clashed! Yet the difference in power was absolute. No matter how deep the darkness, it withered before the light—that was the natural order of things.
All the demons could do was scheme, work in secret, and nibble away little by little.
…Must I hide in the dark once more?
■, who had been absent for so long. Now that long silence had been broken and that presence revealed itself again, the demons would have to hide in the darkness until the radiance faded.
The seeds! I must gather the seeds!!
Nurgle suddenly recalled the seeds he had sown across the world. Over long ages he had scattered plague-seeds little by little—seeds in the form of rats, spread across every corner of the continent.
It was already too late, but he had to erase whatever traces remained. Urgency seized him, and Nurgle hastily cut the flow of power to the seeds.
Connections snapped one after another; he felt hundreds, thousands of seeds dying. Only then did Nurgle breathe a little easier.
Now he would sleep for hundreds of years in his domain, as still as a grave.
When a very long time had passed, ■ would fall silent once more.
Foolish kin…
Nurgle decided to keep the truth about ■ from the other demons. They would die like insects before ■, but that was no concern of his. If anything, when he woke again his rivals would be fewer—the more that died, the better.
■… that hateful, dreadful name…
Nurgle's enormous eyes slowly closed. Thick carapace grew over his fortress-like body, wrapping him layer upon layer. At last dozens of layers of shell enclosed him like armor.
Little by little, Nurgle's consciousness flickered and faded.
Demons do not sleep by nature.
Unless, like Nurgle, they deliberately choose to sleep, they neither eat nor rest. Demons are beings of true immortality, of eternal life. So long as the soul remains intact, the flesh is nothing more than a shell.
— Glug-glug-glug!
Conversely, if the soul dies, death is absolute.
Water…?
Nurgle's tentacles twitched at the sudden sound of water. Water, of all things—an ill omen.
It could not be a dream.
Dreaming is the act of swimming along the edges of the Sea of Souls. Demons are closer to unwanted byproducts that the sea itself spat out. Thus demons do not dream.
— WHOOOOSH!!
W-what!!
Nurgle recoiled in terror at the violent rush of water and the force that seized him by the hair and began dragging him somewhere. A vast power had gripped his soul and was hauling it away.
Resistance… was impossible. The overwhelming force simply yanked his soul along with brute strength.
U-uwaaaaaah!!
Nurgle's scream reached no one. Agony as if his entire body were being torn apart crashed over him.
How long was he dragged? At last Nurgle managed to open his eyes.
And then—
Y-you—how!!!
"Finally deciding to sleep, are we? How very stubborn of you."
He saw a woman with red hair. In her hand she held a familiar hammer; her hair blazed like flame.
Impossible. How, why, for what reason!
How could a human who had died centuries ago at the very least—
Kenelm grinned as she looked at Nurgle. Then, quietly stroking her hammer, she stepped toward him.
One step. Another.
"Still, we're old acquaintances, aren't we? And you're my first guest, so…"
D-don't come near!! Stay away!! What—what are you!! How in the world!!
Nurgle dragged his body backward. The fortress-like bulk he had once possessed was now pitifully small and wretched. Being forcibly hauled into the Sea of Souls must have torn a great deal of him away.
"First, let's start with a few hits, shall we?"
Uwaaa!! Hraaaaaagh!!
The Sea of Souls, always so still.
In one corner of it, Nurgle's screams quietly rang out.
"So!"
Thwack!
"What exactly is your goal!"
Thud!
"Tell me!!"
CRACK!!
Along with the sound of a hammer striking something again and again.
"Your Holiness! The Holy Land! Please tell us about your trip to the Holy Land!"
"I want to hear about Saintess Kenelm!"
"Haha. I've already told the Holy Land stories several times, so shall I speak of the Saintess today?"
"Yeees—!"
"My, what a spirited answer. Very well. Listen carefully, then."
Antonio stroked his long-grown beard and began spinning a gentle tale for the children clustered tightly around him.
Antonio, the Apostle who had received three divine seals in the Holy Land.
These days the daily life of the Great Priest and Apostle consisted of telling the neighborhood children stories of the saints. With the book he had been writing finally finished, time was all he had left. For an old man it was a hobby of sorts—and a religious activity as well.
As he slowly unpacked his stories, Antonio glanced around.
In the center of the plaza paved with white tiles a fountain leapt skyward, and brilliant sunlight poured down. A loving couple strolled past; the cheerful calls of a merchant trying to catch customers rang out warmly.
Peaceful. Comfortable.
Antonio etched every detail into his eyes and smiled. All of this everyday life was grace and blessing. One ought to be properly grateful.
"…And so Saintess Kenelm defeated countless demons and entered the land of rest."
"Your Holiness! Our house! We have a picture of the Saintess at home! Shall I show it to you? But it doesn't have her face…"
"Wow, the one at your house has no face either? The one at our house doesn't have a face either!"
"Waaah—! Your Holiness, is the Saintess really, really strong?"
"Dummy, you don't even know that? Of course she's super strong!"
The chattering children began to squabble. Antonio laughed lightly and settled them down.
"Hahaha. Now, now, children. We mustn't fight. The Six Gods are always watching over y—"
Antonio's words cut off mid-sentence.
— Fwoooosh!
The three characters engraved on the back of Antonio's hand. The letters of revelation the gods had given him together with his mission.
One had vanished after foretelling Kenis's danger; two remained.
And one of those two began to blaze with dazzling light.
Fragmentary images flashed rapidly through Antonio's mind.
A black sea. Lights scattered across the continent. Those lights slowly gathering into one place. And that place—
"—Hhk!"
Antonio bent double, gasping for breath. Thick beads of sweat fell from his brow; his ragged breathing would not stop.
"Y-Your Holiness—!"
"Waaah! Your Holiness! Don't be hurt!"
"Hweeeeng, we won't fight anymore! Hic—"
The startled children crowded around Antonio, fat tears rolling down their cheeks. They were so shocked their plump faces had flushed red, and tears and snot had left them a mess.
After steadying his breathing for a moment, Antonio forced a smile and patted the children's heads.
"Ha, haha. It's nothing serious. It seems the Six Gods have something they wish me to do. I just went to meet the gods for a moment."
"Waaah— Your Holiness can't go to the gods' side yet. Hic!"
"Waaah! The Six Gods called Your Holiness! Don't die, Your Holiness!!"
"Oh dear…"
The opposite effect—the children only wailed louder. Antonio spent quite a while soothing them before he could finally return to the Pantheon.
The sea and the continent… scattered lights gathering into one place…
Antonio's steps as he crossed the Pantheon were hurried. In his mind he kept replaying those brief, picture-like moments without pause.
A black sea, and lights gathering somewhere…
Unlike the previous revelation, this one was abstract and vague. Yet the key always lay within. Antonio flung open the door in haste.
He had to record all of this.
He was living in an age of miracles alongside the gods, walking in Their footsteps. It was his duty to record everything so that future generations might know of that glory.
Antonio's hand moved the quill urgently. Elegant cursive unfurled across the page. The dancing quill suddenly stopped dead.
The sea, the sea… a black sea… I'm certain I saw something about that in Demonic's last report…
The nightmare demon subjugation that had taken place in the Holy Romanian Empire, and the report Demonic had compiled and submitted afterward.
Somewhere in it, a memory of content related to a "sea" suddenly flashed through his mind.
Antonio dug frantically through the stacks of documents. At last he found what he sought; his eyes moved rapidly as he scanned the contents.
"…Based on the testimony of Subject No. 5, the ultimate goal of the demons is presumed to be the Sea of Souls. However, as this remains only a conjecture, it cannot be rashly concluded, and further detailed investigation is required…"
Some called it the sea of another world, or the homeland of souls.
The primordial sea had revealed itself in Antonio's revelation.