The Gates of the Underworld
The trilling ringtone pierced through his drowsy haze, and his hand flailed up and down in a vague attempt to silence it. Instead of the familiar softness of his bed, the hard, unyielding floor pressed against his palm. It seemed he'd fallen asleep right there in the study after eating dinner and deciding to read for just a little while. As an Absolute Being, a single night on the hard floor wouldn't leave him with a sore back or anything so trivial, but waking up anywhere but his bed still felt distinctly unpleasant.
"It's been so long! Master!"
The moment he grabbed the smartphone without even looking and pressed it to his ear, a booming voice thundered through. This guy always spoke in a low, solemn, meticulously controlled tone to his subordinates or the other Deadly Sins, yet the instant he addressed Kain, he switched to this military-bark style. Recognizing Pride from the voice alone, Kain answered in a voice thick with irritation at the noise so early in the day.
"It's noisy. Shut up."
"I apologize. It seems this unworthy one has dared to disturb Master's peaceful slumber."
The voice coming through the smartphone grew noticeably gloomier, heavy with remorse. His emotions swung wildly like a manic patient at a single word from Kain.
"Since it has come to this, I shall take full responsibility and commit seppuku..."
No, he was definitely mentally ill. Seppuku over a mere scolding? Even the stubborn samurai who supposedly invented the practice in the eastern continent didn't go that far. At the very least, those bastards had blustered about committing seppuku the moment they lost to him, only to immediately change their tune and beg for their lives when he said, "Good. Saves me the hassle of killing you myself and turning you into an undead. If you're going to do it, hurry up. I'm busy."
The fact that Pride would actually go through with it over something so minor—when even those samurai valued their lives too much to follow through—gave a rough idea of the madness this one possessed.
"Don't die. Raising you as an undead would reduce your efficiency from when you were alive."
If this guy died, the loss would be catastrophic. Among the Seven Deadly Sins, Greed could perhaps manage to fill in somehow, but that one caused far too many unintended accidents because of his greed. Like the Grant Department Store incident. For that reason, Pride's death was something Kain could never tolerate.
"To think you would regard me with such consideration... This Pride is truly, deeply moved..."
"Enough. Why are you calling so early in the morning?"
Kain cut off Pride's words with a yawn as he sat down on the floor. The time had already passed 1 PM, but that wasn't particularly important. To Pride, if Kain called it morning, then it was morning.
"It appears a gate to the underworld has opened somewhere."
At Pride's words, Kain's half-lidded, sleepy eyes behind his thick glasses sharpened in an instant. The languid expression vanished as he focused his full attention on the voice coming through the smartphone. Sensing the change in his master's attitude, Pride continued without pause.
"Dekken Nasara."
The single name that flowed from his lips belonged to the vermin who had caused a terrorist attack at the Grant Department Store just days ago, strutting arrogantly in front of Kain before being executed. Kain wasn't particularly good at remembering names, but he wasn't so dim that he'd forget one from just a few days prior.
"According to Wrath, when the Nasara Merchant Group was eliminated, he definitely killed this one as well. Given his personality, if there had been even the slightest uncertainty, he would have immediately bowed his head and apologized, believing he had failed. However, he asserted his innocence with absolute confidence. He had definitely killed the man. And to prove it, he took action himself to locate the evidence."
"And he confirmed it. That at the time of the incident, Dekken Nasara had indeed died."
"......"
"Furthermore, the investigation uncovered several interesting facts. It isn't only Dekken Nasara. Several criminals whose deaths had been confirmed in the past have been spotted reappearing in the underworld."
One or two cases could be dismissed as a mistake. Perhaps someone thought dead had luckily survived. Or maybe they'd been holed up sleeping like Sloth, doing nothing, until rumors of their death began to circulate. But if it happened repeatedly?
Coincidence didn't occur in such neat succession.
"The timing?"
"Roughly since three years ago."
"About the same, then."
The underworld, huh... Was that Underworld King bastard still hibernating even though spring had arrived? Just how had he been managing the place that the dead could wander the living world as they pleased? If he was going to manage it so sloppily, he shouldn't have smacked Kain on the head last time when asked if he could try reviving a person for real, snapping, "Don't mess with the laws and bring chaos to both the living world and the afterlife."
Kain frowned as if the old man's face had floated into his mind. But that only lasted a moment. An icy, bone-chilling smile curved across his lips.
"Find it immediately. Where that entrance opened."
The enemy who had killed his sister. Until now, he hadn't found even the slightest clue. That was why Kain had been considering whether the culprit behind these events was a newly emerged absolute-level Ebon user.
But this changes things.
The underworld and the living world were completely separate realms governed by entirely different laws. And the Underworld King was one of the true 'gods' who could wield power beyond that of an Absolute Being while inside his domain. Opening a gate to the underworld while evading his gaze was by no means an easy feat.
At minimum, absolute level.
So it needed to be confirmed. Whether the gap had been created from within, or torn open from outside. If it had been torn from the outside, the probability that it was the work of a newly appeared Ebon user rose, just as Kain had suspected. But if it had been opened from within...
It's not impossible for a new absolute-level entity to have appeared.
At last, Pride had brought him a clue worth the name.
"I will locate it with all possible haste."
Kain ended the call after listening to Pride's voice through the smartphone. Then, his expression returning to its usual languid state, he scratched at his solidly defined abs and let out a huge yawn.
I'm hungry.
Anyway, Pride would handle everything. All Kain had to do was wait. There was no need to get impatient already. With that thought, Kain left the study, intending to boil some ramen.
By the way, why didn't the kid wake me before leaving? She usually does.
It was a thought that would have left Arina utterly dumbfounded if she'd heard it. After all, she had knocked on the study door several times before heading to the academy that morning, only to hear Kain mumble in his sleep, "I'm up, so stop knocking. It's noisy," before she left. She couldn't possibly have imagined that he would fall right back asleep the moment the words left his mouth.
"......"
When Kain reached the kitchen, he discovered something on the dining table and scratched the back of his head. A rolled omelette and a refreshing kimchi bean sprout soup, covered with plastic wrap, sat neatly on the table.
Ramen's off the table, then.
With that, he quietly approached the rice cooker. As expected, it was set to warm. He opened it, scooped an appropriate amount of rice into a bowl, and murmured.
"......It's good."
Kain slowly savored the food that had gone completely cold after sitting for so long.
New semester. At Benedict Academy, those newly arriving during this period weren't limited to just the incoming freshmen.
"Hello~ I'm Clara Propofol~"
A woman with light pink hair that fell all the way past her waist. Even though her clothes wrapped her tightly, her enormous, voluptuous breasts were in no way concealed. A professor whose slightly trailing, drowsy way of speaking at the end of every sentence was strangely addictive. This was Clara Propofol, newly in charge of the infirmary this year and teaching emergency treatment studies.
"That side would be~ Professor Vivaldi, correct~?"
"Yes, I am Ecleus Vivaldi. Professor Propofol."
The person sitting across from her was a rather intellectual-looking man. His hair, nearly as long as Clara's, was neatly braided and draped elegantly down the front of his chest. Wearing a brown suit the same shade as his hair and sporting glasses, he gave off the impression of a model student who had excelled academically throughout his school days.
Like Clara, he was one of the new professors joining this year—a scion of the prestigious Vivaldi viscount family and the instructor for 'Magic Composition Studies.'
"Please just call me Clara~ I don't really like Propofol because it reminds me of propofol, the anesthetic~"
"My apologies."
"It's fine~ You didn't know~ No harm done~"
As she spoke, Clara turned her head to the right this time. Seated there was a man who looked the complete opposite of Professor Vivaldi.
"Thank you for calling me that. Professor Clara."
Black hair and black eyes. Dark circles so heavy beneath his eyes that they looked painted on, as if from lack of sleep, and hollow, sunken cheeks. His black clothes were neat enough, but perhaps because of his extremely slender, frail frame, they hung loosely and looked sloppy rather than fitted.
Like the other two, a new professor who had joined Benedict Academy this year—the dark mage assigned to teach 'Curse Studies,' Professor Karlsen.
"Not at all~"
At Karlsen's words, Clara offered a drowsy, gentle smile.
"Everyone's so busy with the new semester, aren't they~ Since we're all from the same year, I thought we could get to know one another's faces and grow closer, so I tried to arrange something quickly~ but it's been so hard to find the time~"
Same year, huh... Honestly, Ecleus Vivaldi found himself agreeing with Clara's words. Being in the same cohort would make it easier to share hardships, and becoming close would undoubtedly help with academy life. Humans were social creatures who couldn't live alone, so he thought it would be good to build connections whenever the opportunity arose. That was why he had gladly accepted Professor Clara's invitation.
However.
It was unavoidable that he felt an instinctive aversion toward Professor Karlsen. Dark mages weren't exactly taboo in the Elemental Kingdom, but there were still social prejudices at play. It wasn't as easy for him to converse without preconceptions the way Professor Clara did.
I need to reflect on this.
One shouldn't judge people by their appearance. Prejudice was the greatest obstacle to understanding someone. To truly understand a person, you had to look at their essence.
"This tea is quite excellent."
"You looked rather exhausted~ so I prepared it with ingredients that help with fatigue recovery~"
"I see. It seems I'll be frequenting the infirmary quite often from now on."
"Come anytime~"
Just from their current conversation, it was clear the man wasn't a bad person. His first impression was simply difficult to approach. Watching Professor Karlsen engage in an utterly ordinary conversation with Clara, Professor Vivaldi cleared his throat with a small cough.
"As it happens, I've always had considerable interest in dark magic myself. You know, in the Elemental Kingdom, the proper—er, that is..."
How should he explain it? If he said there weren't many proper dark mages, it might sound like he was lumping them all together and insulting them. Since Karlsen had likely faced plenty of such prejudice, Vivaldi wanted to choose his words carefully, but no suitable comment came to mind.
"It's all right. Please speak freely."
"I'm truly sorry."
It seemed he'd received consideration instead. At Karlsen's words, Vivaldi's face flushed with embarrassment.
"In any case, even if the paths we walk differ, aren't we both scholars heading toward the same goal? Would it be all right if I visited you separately later to talk?"
"Of course. Come whenever you like."
"Thank you, Professor Karlsen."
As expected, the first impression had been the hurdle. Once past that, it seemed they might become close faster than anticipated. Vivaldi extended his hand to match Karlsen, who was offering a handshake.
Squish.
The strange texture against his palm made his gaze drop unconsciously.
Ribbit.
Professor Vivaldi's face drained of all color. Frozen solid while clutching a small frog in his hand, he heard Professor Karlsen speak with a bright smile.
"You seemed rather tense, so I thought I'd play a little joke. How was it?"
"......"
"Professor Vivaldi?"
"......"
"Professor Clara! We have a patient here! He fainted while standing!"
Dark mage Professor Karlsen. As expected from that first impression, Professor Vivaldi thought it would take quite a long time to grow close to him.