The Surface of the Soul
"What?"
That cold tone, and the intense, peculiar disgust lurking beneath it, forced Duru Satal to regain his composure.
"What does it matter whether one knows true death or not? In the end, you too have sacrificed countless subordinates to prolong your own life. Are you saying that those who know death have the right to impose it on others, while those who do not have no such right?"
In that moment, Duru Satal glimpsed something through the gaps in their connected consciousness. Beneath Anak's outwardly visible thoughts and emotions transmitted through the link, there flickered what resembled a slowly rising ashen flame.
—You… what in the world is that…?
Duru Satal had lived for a very long time. Though he primarily shared consciousness with monsters and beasts to rule and control them, he had not entirely avoided linking with intelligent beings over the centuries.
Granbipra, the other managers of the past and present, pitiful humans who had wandered into the forest and never left, and the various forest clans that had long since vanished—he had connected with quite a few minds. Though unintentional, he had occasionally peered into the depths of their consciousness, just as he did now.
Even Duru Satal could not precisely identify what he saw, but he had come to call it the surface of the soul. Because it was not any concrete thought or emotion, it always appeared to him as color or light.
Some were bright, others dark; some monochromatic, others vividly multicolored—sometimes brilliant, sometimes faded and drab.
Occasionally it manifested as flame, or as a mixture of many hues. Yet despite having glimpsed the soul surfaces of so many, this was the first time he had encountered anything like it.
An ashen flame, burning. For an instant, it seemed as though that grayish light was illuminating its surroundings. But the ominous colors that occasionally flashed within the flickering, and the profound, heavy darkness at its core, made it feel anything but warm.
—You claim to be one of those who saved the world…?
Duru Satal found himself asking the question as he stared at the flame.
"Honestly, I sometimes wonder about that myself."
At Anak's gesture, a sentence materialized in the air, followed by a black wound tearing open in space. From within that dark rift emerged Cardorukude, its entire body covered in black fur and its two feet ending in hooves.
"…What matters is not some abstract, ideological notion of whether one knows death or not. You already understand that deep down, don't you?"
At his signal, Cardorukude's unpleasant, scraping laughter spread in all directions.
"What matters is simply whether one possesses the power to do so."
—……!
Simultaneously with that cold sneer, Duru Satal reflexively tried to sever the connection when a grotesque, chilling presence suddenly began burrowing into his consciousness network. He had no idea what was happening, and since they were connected only through thought, there should have been no direct threat to his distant true body. Yet his few remaining instincts screamed at him to cut the link.
But he was too late. Before he could sever it, the eerie presence rapidly infiltrated the network, and in an instant, control of the connection was stolen away.
"It was a mistake to connect directly. You've already been caught once before—did you really think it was just an ordinary confusion spell?"
Duru Satal desperately tried to break the link as he watched the grotesque thoughts racing toward his true body through the connected consciousness, but once control had been lost, it was impossible. Instead, the spreading thoughts gradually pushed Duru Satal himself out of the entire network.
He no longer had a consciousness network. There were no shared thoughts, no extending fragments. Only his own consciousness remained, along with the wolf's connection—now overtaken by the black thoughts.
—You… what exactly…!
And when those thoughts finally touched his own consciousness, he was no longer looking through the wolf's eyes. In fact, he was no longer in the forest at all. He had become a small sapling, precariously rooted in crimson-red soil, with Anak and the hooved Cardorukude standing before him, looking down.
—What have you done!
"Did you think you were the only one who could manipulate minds and consciousness? It may be a rare ability, but compared to huanma, it is hardly impressive."
They were inside an illusion created by Cardorukude. Yet Duru Satal's mental fortitude was truly formidable. The nightmare that had once been enough to ensnare the souls of an entire mountain village now struggled to contain even Duru Satal's single mind.
"Approaching so carelessly while your network was diminished was a mistake."
Locating a path to the true body within a vast, complex consciousness network shared among monsters was difficult even for a huanma, and reaching it before the target severed the link was nearly impossible. But when most of the network had vanished and the opponent attempted a direct connection without routing through others, the situation changed.
—……
Duru Satal could hardly believe the scene before his eyes. Who could blame him?
In all his long years, no one had ever threatened him through the consciousness network. Not only had there been no threats—within the Ancient Forest itself, no one else possessed an ability like his. Only a few primitive lifeforms living in colonies or monsters that hunted prey through hypnosis showed partial, fragmentary similarities. Nothing comparable to him had ever existed.
Such experience and time had been enough to instill an imperfect certainty in him, and until this very moment, that certainty had remained an unchanging fact.
—…What do you intend to do with me? Do you truly wish to form a master-servant contract?
"Eventually, that is what will happen. But for now, I am simply keeping you confined here."
There was still time until Granbipra's hatching. Even if the opponent had no special methods left, Anak knew from experience that desperation could produce unexpected results in a final struggle.
If the other two managers had truly fled, then imprisoning Duru Satal in this alternate space would mean no further resistance.
"Please wait quietly until the hatching. Though I doubt it will be particularly pleasant for you."
At Anak's gesture, a cruel yet pure anticipation rose in Cardorukude's single eye.
—W-wait!
Duru Satal tried to stop him, but Anak severed the connection and withdrew from Cardorukude's space. Under normal circumstances, he might have lingered to savor his superiority while listening to the opponent's futile, contradictory pleas. But in the face of the pure malice pouring directly into him through soul resonance, such leisure was impossible.
Duru Satal screamed at the approaching Cardorukude and the massive thoughts following behind it, but his cries meant nothing, and there was no one left to hear them.
* * *
Space rippled slightly, and from the empty air emerged the figures of Raze and Bagloros.
"Tsk. I brought good news for once, and you're late today?"
The space, enclosed on all sides by walls, was the same place where he had always met the masked man. Yet the masked man who had summoned him was nowhere to be seen. At that moment, the masked man's image appeared within a transparent crystal orb.
—I told you to come alone.
"Oh. Are you afraid of missing this spectacle?"
The black crystal in Raze's hand glowed, and Bagloros knelt before it.
"Surely you're not afraid my sword might pierce you?"
—Don't get cocky.
The killing intent in the voice was strong enough to carry through the orb, yet the characteristic mad smile never left Raze's face.
"When have I ever gotten cocky? I was simply worried you might be needlessly concerned."
—Don't delude yourself. I can create as many black crystals as I need.
"Yes, yes. I know full well that you hold that old madman in your grasp. Then why can't you face me directly?"
The masked man said nothing, and Raze's smile only deepened.
Though Raze was relatively cunning, he was now overly elated by the fulfillment of a long-cherished wish, and that elation clouded his judgment.
Beyond the crystal orb, the eyes visible through the mask's gaps were calmly observing Bagloros. It was not, as Raze might have rashly assumed, due to baseless fear. The masked man was observing with cold detachment. Of course, even if he did so, he lacked the ability to discern Bagloros's true intentions.
He watched every flicker of Bagloros's eyes and every movement, searching for his true purpose. That was why he no longer appeared in person.
He had known Raze would disobey his orders and bring Bagloros here. At the same time, unlike Raze, he still did not fully trust the black crystal's effects.
As a chimera, whether by his own will or not, Bagloros had been—and still was—the world's strongest assassin. He was also one of those who had saved the world in the last great war. Only fools or the excessively optimistic would risk a direct confrontation while relying on an incomplete spell whose effects could only be confirmed through the target's reaction.
"So, what do we do now? Shall we start cleaning up the branches one by one?"
The masked man hesitated briefly. If the black crystal's effect was real, then executing the plan immediately with Bagloros in hand would be the right move. But if this was Bagloros's trap, the entire plan would collapse. Even the smallest clues, if enough of them caught his eye, would allow him to see through everything.
—What happened to the Summoner of Deception?
He decided to confirm that first.
"He didn't specify an exact time or arrival point, but he's definitely on his way."
—Have Bagloros handle it personally.
Immediately after those words, the masked man scrutinized even the smallest changes in Bagloros's expression and gestures, but Bagloros remained utterly still. He stood exactly as he had when he knelt moments ago, like a lifeless doll.
The mad mage who created him had spoken at length about his taciturn nature. Moreover, tales of Bagloros's exploits during the last great war were so numerous that even if every drunkard in every tavern talked through the night, they would never run out. Yet not a single story mentioned him displaying emotion.
Still, knowing it was futile, the masked man could not help but desperately search Bagloros for even the slightest sign of disturbance.
"Understood. This should be quite the entertaining sight."
In contrast, Raze harbored not a shred of doubt. He was simply enjoying himself—truly, for the first time. Madness burned in his eyes more fiercely than ever, and anticipation dripped from between his lips like a wolf salivating.
Raze and Bagloros vanished just as they had appeared. The moment they were gone, four or five mages in robes entered the space. Each bore an emblem on their chest: an eagle perched atop a lion's head embroidered in gold. Their movements and even their breathing carried the discipline of well-trained knights.
—Erase everything. Leave no trace behind.
At the masked man's command, the mages began erasing the hidden teleportation circles and various barriers within the walls, replacing them with spells symbolizing flame and destruction.