An Invitation to the Other World
A deafening roar echoed. Sound overlapped with sound, making the very air tremble. The feast of vibrations felt like the wrathful scolding of an angered constellation. Every time the thunder struck, flesh splattered. Monsters. Among them, the green-skinned goblin species, often called Green Skins. They no longer deserved to be called Green Skins. Some had lost their entire skin. Others had had their skin stained red with the blood of their kin.
"Kirik... Kiek?!" Even the mindless monsters recognized the cataclysm. A massive roar. The ensuing slaughter. Before they could even take their first step into the invaded village, dozens of their comrades were neutralized. One comrade had his head pierced. Only a small, finger-sized hole was visible on the back of his head, but his face on the other side was shredded beyond recognition. It looked as if a storm had raged inside his skull.
Yet, in the wake of the god's roar, those with pierced heads were the lucky ones. At least they wouldn't have felt any pain.
Another comrade lost an arm. Wooden shields and leather guards wrapped around their limbs were useless. The sturdy armor, which could block even the sword strikes of skilled adventurers, failed to do its job. The thunder pierced the shield, tore through the leather armor, shattered the left arm, and embedded itself in the chest. The lungs found a new pathway for breathing. With every breath in and out, blood dripped from the flank.
"Kieeeek!" The battle cries that had anticipated slaughter and devastation were instantly stained with pain. The echoes of the dead, or those about to die, chilled their morale. Only three seconds. That was the time it took for thirty rounds of thunder to rage. Only a few monsters died. Those granted the mercy of instant death were so few.
Those not chosen fell to the ground, feeling their lives fade away in real-time. They collapsed and convulsed like pathetic structures. Even those lucky enough to avoid the thunder were unable to move. An ominous dread seized their footsteps.
This was not the future the Green Skins had envisioned when they rushed into the village. Resistance from the villagers? They could expect that. They were confident they could crush it. A counterattack from a high-ranking adventurer who happened to be passing by? Many would die, but they would eventually win. The difference in numbers was absolute. A counterattack from a secluded mage? An archmage's magic was an irresistible disaster, but even so, it had its own logic and reality. But what on earth was this current situation? What was this ferocious destruction that stopped their triumphant charge in just a few seconds?
Landslides. Storms. Earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Even such disasters could not consume dozens in three seconds. Because they sent at least some warning, whether through sound or sensation. But this just now—
Rat-tat-tat-tat!!!
—While the monsters belatedly trembled in fear, the god's wrath began anew. Another three seconds. And then, silence. Groans. Screams and madness. The foolish monsters could not understand why this sound was heard. In fact, most of the goblins did not even understand why their comrades had fallen. However, they realized with their swollen instincts. This time was different. The village raid, which they had carried out like harvesting crops, was impossible. The excitement shattered. A chill pressed down on the back of their heads. What happened once could not promise a second time, but what happened twice could happen a third time. The curse-like thunder could strike them again.
"Kerruk! Keek, kek!" The goblins immediately turned back. The dead comrades, the injured comrades—without caring about any of them, they fled to their comfortable village. There were individual differences among the monsters in reaching that conclusion, but the result was the same. The slightly more intelligent goblins ran first. Seeing that, the other goblins hastily followed. Like rats chasing each other's tails, they quickly vanished beyond the jungle. The green wave receded like the tide.
"Kiek... Keruk..." In an instant, only a few goblins remained in the village. The lucky ones who had died instantly, and the wounded whose legs were broken, unable to run. The goblins with injured legs tried to crawl out of the village. It was not easy. These jealous creatures even grabbed their comrades' shattered ankles to pull themselves forward. The green flesh created a tragic hell. The horrific sight proved that what had just happened was reality. It forced reality upon an old man.
"...Ahem!" Merlin groaned. Even though he had seen it with his own eyes, it felt surreal. It was clearly an army of hundreds. For them to flee so miserably, and in just a few seconds. The old man's trembling eyes darted back and forth. He looked at the groaning green monsters, then at the magic circle extending from his fingertips.
"..." A moment later, the old man withdrew the mana forming the magic circle. The first reason was that the goblins, his original targets, had completely collapsed. The second was the sound of footsteps approaching from afar. They were drawing closer. The person who had brought down this disaster. Someone the old mage could never hope to match. If so, taking a hostile stance would be a terrible move. The opponent was a cruel figure. No matter if they were monsters, someone who slaughtered living things so miserably could not be normal. Showing his teeth would only lead to ruin. Thus, the old man chose a different way of reception. Drawing on his experience, he prepared himself. He straightened his back and caught his breath. Soon, the dust kicked up by the goblins' march settled. Through the clearing vision, a girl revealed herself. A girl wearing a priest's robe of unusual material and design, black with gold embroidery. In her hand, she held a strangely shaped rod. Was it a khakkhara? It seemed too short for that... but who knew. Merlin quickly scanned the woman's appearance. Was she barely an adult? Her face was youthful. It almost looked naive. Of course, her appearance likely didn't reflect her actual age. He had heard that some priests received eternal youth as a divine authority. The girl's red eyes added weight to that assumption. Pupils that flashed like jewels filled with mana. Merlin could not fathom what kind of story lay behind those shining eyes. Having finished his assessment in an instant, the old man immediately bowed and said, "...I greet our esteemed guest. I express my gratitude for your help." The girl only grinned silently.
'Is this okay? Do I look mysterious right now? I don't look like someone who just meddled unnecessarily, do I?!' After driving away the monsters with the evil god's gift, Seraphina took cautious steps toward the village entrance. On the outside, she acted calm. Leisurely. Naturally. At least, she tried to appear that way. She was conscious of every single step she took. However, the girl's heart was already shaking violently.
'I hope so. That mage, the size of his magic circle was no joke...!' The scene from moments ago flashed through Seraphina's mind. A massive blue magic circle covering the entire village. The writhing mana felt within it. Being able to cast magic of that level despite the low mana concentration near a dungeon proved that the old man was by no means an ordinary mage.
'In the first place, Master said so too. You must be careful of old mages.' There were not many old people on the Continent. Before they could grow old, they died of disease, conscription, or some other reason. This was especially true for mages. They might make a mistake during research and cause an accident, get conscripted and hit by a stray arrow on the battlefield, or lose their magic because they couldn't pay the copyright fees to the magic constellations. To become an old mage, one had to endure all of that. They were bound to be strong.
'He must be an incredible monster...' Seraphina thought. It was an inevitable train of thought for her. There were not many beastman mages on the Continent. Beastmen naturally had unstable mana flows. Refining it to become a mage was several times harder than for a normal human. Thus, Seraphina did not know that beastman mages had a secret technique: they could convert their life force into mana. Naturally, in her mind, the old man had become a "monster who freely casts high-level magic near a dungeon."
For that very reason, when the old man politely greeted her, saying, "...I greet our esteemed guest. I express my gratitude for your help," Seraphina could not bring herself to answer. Negative thoughts filled her head. 'Help? Does he really think of it as help? He doesn't think I meddled and ruined his work, does he? Ah, I should have looked at the bigger picture. I was so focused on aiming at the goblins that I didn't see that huge magic circle.' Regret amplified her anxiety. Fearing her true feelings would show if she spoke, Seraphina had no choice but to respond with a light smile.
"...Would you like to come inside first? We cannot treat our esteemed guest coldly. I hope you will accept our humble hospitality." Whether he knew Seraphina's mind or not, the old beastman mage skillfully guided the girl. There was a certain discipline in his actions—a deeply ingrained etiquette, completely out of place in such a remote village.
'...As expected, he's no ordinary person.' Thinking this, Seraphina walked behind the old man. The old man headed toward the largest building in the small village. "This is the village hall. Please wait a moment." He had Seraphina wait for a moment and went inside the building alone. Soon after, a few voices could be heard, and it seemed a rather passionate conversation was taking place between the old man and the villagers.
"What's that... just a girl..." "A priest... maybe... kill them all—" "Merlin... possible... if we make a mistake, there'll be trouble..." "The corpses outside..." The words sounded ominous. Seraphina instinctively looked around the village. She mapped out escape routes in her head. A few minutes later, just as the girl was devising her fifth escape route—
"Would you like to come in?" The old man, having calmed the situation, called Seraphina inside. At the same time, multiple footsteps could be heard overlapping from the opposite side of the building, as if they were sending the villagers inside out before calling Seraphina in.
"..." Seraphina hesitated for a moment. She was worried there might be some kind of trap inside the building. The somewhat chilling conversation of the villagers also weighed on her mind. However, before long, Seraphina shook her head. 'If capturing me was the goal, a single gesture from the mage would have been enough.' Although she possessed the evil god's gift, Seraphina was just a young woman who had barely reached adulthood. If the Thunder Staff was taken from her, she would be helpless. Hadn't she been easily suppressed by the hunters Renatus brought? Moreover, this was not beyond the gate where the evil god's protection resided... If they wanted to capture her, there was no reason to go through the trouble of setting a trap. '...In the first place, I'm the one who needs something.' Seraphina made up her mind. She would follow the guidance as obediently as possible. While maintaining an air of mystery, she would prove she had no intention of causing harm. Steeling her heart, the girl followed the old man's guidance. Of course, despite this, she could not prevent her expression from stiffening slightly with tension.
'Sigh, I have no idea what she wants.' Ever since he let the mysterious priest into the village hall, Merlin's heart had been pounding as if it would burst. If he weren't a beastman, he would have collapsed from high blood pressure long ago. That was how alien the red-eyed woman was. 'Seeing how she follows along obediently, she must want something... but sigh, she won't say a word.' Merlin's actions seemed relaxed on the surface, but in reality, it was just the etiquette he had learned in the royal court forcing his body to move. His chest was burning.
The woman who had wiped out the goblin army in an instant, as if mocking the magic circle Merlin had deployed at the cost of his life. The one who brought down thunder from a clear sky. The villagers were currently clearing away the corpses of the goblins that had fallen then. The villagers, too, would probably look at the monsters' wounds and think: the storm that shook their insides could be directed at their own bodies, not just the Green Skins. The lives of Merlin and all the villagers lay in that woman's hands.
'This is driving me crazy... If only I could know which constellation she serves. Where on earth did that attire come from?' Merlin had encountered many eccentric people since his time in the royal court. But none of them had been as bizarre as this. The old man looked at the girl sitting across from him. Even though she was sitting at an unfamiliar table in an unfamiliar building, she said nothing. She merely caressed the rod in her arms gently. Even so, the girl's expression remained stiff. A hint of dissatisfaction. An unconcealed discomfort pressed down on Merlin's heart.
A few minutes passed like that, an uncomfortable silence continuing as they watched each other— '...Sigh. We can't keep doing this forever.' —and the old man was the first to raise the white flag. It was an inevitable reaction since he considered himself the weaker party. Merlin spoke cautiously. Fortunately, thanks to his ingrained etiquette, no trembling seeped into his voice.
"Once again, thank you for your help. I do not know how to repay you. Is there any reward you desire?" He probed cautiously, observing her reaction.
"...Did you say a reward?" At this, the girl spoke for the first time. The first communication was made, but Merlin could not bring himself to view it positively. The girl's words contained pure wonder, as if she hadn't even thought of the word "reward" itself. And Merlin, having experienced the power struggles of the royal court, understood the meaning behind it. The girl was indirectly scoffing—asking if a mere village like this could offer a reward that would satisfy her. It was by no means a reassuring sign. Rather, it was closer to a warning before danger struck. Merlin quickly grasped this with his beastman intuition. He had to act. The old mage's mind spun rapidly. In the end, Merlin made his decision. Before an excessive demand could be made—before that woman could demand something like the heart of an innocent beastman boy—he would bet everything he had.
"...I will do anything this old body can manage. It may be an insufficient reward, but it would be difficult to find anything more in this impoverished village. Please, be satisfied with me alone." A gamble the old man made while holding his bursting heart. At this, the red-eyed woman tilted her head slightly as if thinking, and then—
"Then, would you like to go with me to the other world beyond the gate?" She calmly delivered the worst possible answer—an answer that even Merlin, who prided himself on having experienced all kinds of hardships, could never have imagined.