Chapter 292
Chapter 292
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 292
Chapter Title: The Surface Psyche
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“Since it has come to this, I won't stop you. But I would advise you to wait. I cannot guarantee your life if you go in. Leave Shirone to me.”
The masked man spoke quickly and leaped into the Door.
Amy checked Shirone's condition.
A thin line, like a tightening spider's thread, was clearly visible on his neck. Moreover, his gaze remained fixed on the spot where he had been bound, not moving an inch.
But he wasn't completely frozen; if they left him like this, he would eventually die.
Amy and Reina looked at each other, their eyes meeting. Without hesitation, they jumped inside the Door.
Five seconds later, the Door vanished.
Zenoger and Shirone, frozen at the crossroads of life and death, were slowly thawing. A low, guttural sound very slowly escaped Shirone's lips.
It seemed he was trying to say 'Ignite.'
* * *
*CRACKLE-RUMBLE!*
Thunder cracked. It was pouring rain. Dark clouds blanketed the entire sky, making it impossible to tell if it was day or night.
Amy, drenched by the downpour, looked around the street. Though she had never seen the city before, it felt strangely familiar.
Buildings lined the brick-paved road, and torches fueled by whale oil hung from every shop. Even those flickered weakly, battered by the harsh wind.
The usual beggars were nowhere to be seen, having taken shelter, and only men in ready-made clothes hurried along the street, clutching their collars.
In the distance, a carriage covered with a rainproof tarp was heading toward the city gates, trying to leave.
It was probably daytime.
Shivering from the cold, Amy and Reina looked at each other. Their wet clothes clung to their bodies, and their hair was plastered to their heads like drowned rats.
“Where on earth…”
“I knew you'd come in.”
The two women instinctively covered themselves and turned around. Though they were clothed, their figures were clearly outlined, making them feel guarded.
The masked man emerged from the darkness of an alley.
“I had a feeling you would, so I waited.”
Amy asked.
“Who are you? And what's your relationship with Shirone?”
Instead of answering, the man removed his mask. She had wondered how he could see with his face covered, but a thin bandage was wrapped around his eyes. He had been blind from the start.
“My name is Generade Armin. I have a bit of a connection with Shirone.”
Amy tilted her head. A connection with Shirone?
Of course, Shirone must have connections others didn't know about. But if he knew someone this skilled, it was unlikely he wouldn't have mentioned it.
“How can we believe that? Shirone never said anything about…”
Armin ignored her, glanced around, and then gestured to the two women.
“Let's get out of the rain first. Follow me.”
Having stood in the downpour for several minutes, their body temperatures were dropping rapidly, so they had no choice but to follow.
Besides, even if it was just among women, they didn't want to be seen in such an embarrassing state.
The place Armin led them to was an establishment that served as both a restaurant and an inn.
Before entering, Amy checked the name on the sign. The language was similar to Tormian but subtly different, making it impossible to decipher its meaning.
“Welcome.”
As they opened the door and went inside, a woman in her forties, who was knitting at the counter, greeted them in a perfunctory tone.
From the outside, the building had seemed rather narrow, but upon entering, they found it stretched deep inside.
The hall was modest, with three tables set up for drinking. In a corner, some hunters sat warming themselves with hot liquor.
Past the hall and around a corner was a corridor that led deeper inside, where a section of the floor had been removed to make a hearth. A drainage system must have been in place, as no rainwater reached this area.
Square tables for dining were arranged around it, and people dressed as travelers were eating.
Armin first offered the empty seats to the women, then walked around the table and sat opposite them.
Just then, a musician in a pointed hat, who had been warming himself by the hearth, began to tune a four-stringed instrument.
Inns frequented by travelers often had contracts with musicians to play music once a certain number of guests had gathered.
Even if the quota wasn't met, they would also play for a personal fee.
The musician played his instrument in a sorrowful tone and began to sing.
It was a song about a knight who, having lost his beloved, travels in search of a place to die. The melody was calm, but the lyrics were quite sad.
Reina was surprised to realize the musician's performance was top-notch. However, the variations deviated from the fundamentals of harmony. It felt as if several different songs had been mixed into one.
But the other travelers didn't seem to care. No, they didn't seem to care about anything. The proof was that they didn't even glance at the two women whose figures were so clearly revealed.
Amy found it strange. Of course, she didn't expect men to stare just because her figure was exposed, but the situation was peculiar nonetheless.
Looking closely, she saw they weren't actually eating. Their forks were moving meaninglessly between their food and their mouths.
The reason it looked like they were eating was that they were constantly muttering something with melancholic expressions.
The unreadable sign. The strange song with its disjointed melody. The people who weren't eating. And their gloomy faces.
A sudden chill ran down Amy's spine. She finally realized this place was different from any world she had ever known.
“Where… where exactly are we?”
As if he had been waiting for that question, Armin nodded and said.
“This is Shirone's consciousness. I looked around before you arrived, and it appears to be the 11th of the twelve stages of the human psyche—the surface psyche.”
She remembered hearing from Arin during her time in Galliante that the human mind was divided into twelve stages.
But that wasn't the issue right now. The problem was that she was inside it.
Reina, seemingly feeling the same way, asked again.
“So you're saying this place, right now, is Shirone's consciousness?”
Armin simply nodded, letting the gesture serve as his explanation.
When explaining such a strange world, it was more effective to make them believe than to try and persuade them.
Amy saw through Armin's intention and suppressed her curiosity.
*Let's just believe him for now. What's more important is finding a way to save Shirone, regardless of where we are.*
“We have to go after Arius. Besides, Shirone's head will be cut off in the real world any minute now.”
Armin smiled and shook his head.
“There's quite a difference between time in reality and time in the consciousness. You followed me right away, didn't you? But I've been waiting here for over thirty minutes.”
Amy did a quick mental calculation.
There had been a slight delay, but she had entered this place almost at the same time as Armin. If there was already a thirty-minute difference, time here had to be moving incredibly slowly compared to reality.
*'No, it's more accurate to say that the speed of consciousness is faster.'*
Armin continued.
“Shirone will be fine for a while. I would have liked to slow time down even more, but a time field has its limits…”
Currently, Armin had Keira, who was 14 kilometers away from the Kazra Royal Castle, bound in a time field using Stop magic, leaving him with very few extra timelines to spare.
A Slow spell, which most mages used, could have delayed time far more drastically, but it wouldn't have been a wise choice in that situation.
Because Slow is an active spell.
If he filled his only cognitive slot—which most mages possess—with Slow, he would cede the initiative to Arius, who was also a Scale Magician. Besides, Arius was not an opponent to be taken lightly in a time-division battle.
That's why he used a time field, a passive skill.
A time field, which occupies both time and space simultaneously, continues to affect the space even after activation, effectively leaving one cognitive slot free to react flexibly to an opponent's moves.
The reason Arius hadn't made any rash moves during their confrontation was that he had seen through this fact.
Thanks to this, Shirone had avoided instant death, but Armin's timeline was left with only a sliver. Even if he could create as many fields as he wanted, they were useless if their effectiveness diminished.
*'The only thing left is Flicker. I guess I'll have to make do with this.'*
The reason Armin had waited for the two women was that the state of the 11th stage of consciousness he had entered was dire.
He didn't want to endanger Shirone's friends, but if they came in of their own volition, he felt he had no choice but to accept their help.
“Of course, we don't have a lot of time. We need to find Shirone as quickly as possible. But unfortunately, I've lost most of my combat abilities. That's why I need your help. First, I'll tell you some things you absolutely need to know.”
Reina assumed a listening posture and said.
“Yes, we want to help. Please, tell us. Why would Jion hire an assassin and even Arius to kill Shirone? I thought Arius was one of Orkamp's people.”
“To explain that, I must first talk about Arius. His alias is the Graverobber, and he's one of the Seven Mages of the Black Arts, quite famous in the Black Line.”
Amy frowned at the mention of the Black Line.
The Red Line had criminals too, but they were people who raised their rank through infamy and achievements.
Arcane, for example.
The Black Line, on the other hand, was far removed from honor. They pursued only their own pleasure and wouldn't hesitate to let society collapse to achieve it.
“A person like that has been by Orkamp's side all this time?”
“Because his skills are undeniable. As an Unlocker and a Scale Magician, his main business is infiltrating people's minds to steal their thoughts. He's the one who installed the Door in Shirone's surface psyche. He has probably Dived at least once without Shirone's knowledge.”
Amy tapped the table. It made a hard, solid sound.
“So you're saying everything in this inn is really Shirone's consciousness?”
“Yes. It may look like an object, but it is, in fact, a landscape created by the workings of Shirone's mind.”
Reina asked.
“What's the principle behind it? Can a person's thoughts manifest as such a concrete world?”
“All the mental faculties a person acquires while growing up become objectified. Love, anger, indifference—they are all objects. You could interpret it as language, but since this is a world connected to the unconscious, 'objectification' is the more accurate term.”
Armin continued, gesturing at the scenery of the inn.
“So then, why is the arrangement of objects so similar to reality, even though this is a mental world? It's because all the objects in the 11th stage pass through the domain of the 6th stage, REM, on their way up. If the unconscious were projected here directly, it would be a completely jumbled world.”
Amy stroked her chin and said.
“Hmm. So you're saying a person's psyche passes through a filter called REM, is converted into objects, and then comes up to this level?”
“Exactly. REM is a mental state during sleep, so it's easier to understand if you think of it as a dream. Dreams are the boundary line between the conscious and the unconscious. That's why both characteristics appear simultaneously in dreams. The higher you go from the 6th stage, the stronger the consciousness, and the lower you go, the stronger the unconscious.”
Armin pointed at the ceiling.
“This is the 11th stage, the surface psyche, which is the highest level apart from the cortical layer. Therefore, it's a highly objectified world. It's realistic, complex, and extensive.”
The musician's sorrowful melody played softly in the background.
The variations were still a mess, but thinking that this too had passed through the filter of a dream, the eeriness faded.
Reina said.
“You said Arius is the Graverobber. What is he trying to steal from Shirone's mind?”
Amy answered.
“Ataraxia.”