Chapter 381: The Lightning Did Not Fall From the Sky - 2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 381: The Lightning Did Not Fall From the Sky - 2
The underground is, quite literally, beneath the ground. A layer below the earth's surface where things that cannot stand proudly in the light hold their breath. Humans tend to hide things down there—things that shouldn't touch the sunlight, things they don't want to reveal, things that don't need to be aired out often.
The Lightning Tower was no exception. Even a structure built to channel the power of lightning into the earth had things it didn't want to show.
The entrance to the underground was sealed by a thick steel door. I gave it a tentative push, just in case, but it didn't budge.
Of course it didn't. It would be a problem if what was hidden suddenly came out, or if someone came looking for it.
There was no visible lock. This basement, accessible only to the Thunderarch and the Guardians of Thunder, was designed to open only when the power of lightning was channeled into it. No matter how great a thief I was, as a normal human, I had no way of opening this door…
That is, until I met the Golden Lord.
The Eight of Spades.
I held the card to the door. It stuck with a soft thwack.
The Unique Magic of the Divine had broadened the horizons of perception. Things once simply dismissed as gods, the great principles that nature rightfully followed—humanity had drawn closer to that knowledge.
Just as they carved branches into spears and chipped stones into axes, humans who learned these principles could now break off pieces of that power to use for themselves. The followers of Mother Earth used Earth Art, the druids wielded the power of nature, and the alchemists used alchemy, all like tools.
However, they were only ever used as tools. Compared to the Arcane itself, they were utterly trivial. No matter how sharply you carve a tree branch, can you know the wisdom dissolved in its growth rings? No matter how finely you grind a rock, can you realize the value of a gem forged by the earth? The true Arcane is veiled behind practicality.
This idol was for remembering the forgotten Arcane.
I slid the card to the side. Since I had only placed it there, the original steel door should have been underneath when I moved the card. That’s what common sense would expect.
But when I moved the card… another card was in its place, stuck fast to the door as if embedded in it.
“This makes me feel like a real magician.”
There’s no reason to perform magic with no one watching. This wasn't a trick; the part of the door the card had touched had genuinely transformed into a card.
The fantastical beliefs of ancient alchemists were true. The origin of all things is one, and therefore, by overcoming the barrier of existence, one substance can be transformed into another. Anything holds the potential to become gold, and likewise, it can also become common iron.
…Unfortunately, it seems it's much easier to turn things into iron than into gold.
“Ta-da… Ugh, that’s draining. Magic without an audience is so hollow.”
I sighed and peeled away the card stuck to the wall. Behind it was an identical Eight of Spades. I flicked it off with my finger, revealing yet another card.
Flutter-flutter-flutter. Cards made of thin steel rained down. When there were no more to remove, my fingers scraped against empty air. Looking down, I saw a countless number of cards, a pile as thick as the door had been, scattered across the floor.
“My abilities seem to be getting more and more specialized for thievery. It's convenient, so I can't complain.”
I reached in, undid the lock, and pushed the steel door. The resistance that had made it seem like it would never open was gone, and the door swung open easily.
“Knock, knock. Coming in~.”
Beyond the steel door was a short, dark corridor. At the other end, another door was visible, one that looked easier to open than the first. Before proceeding, just in case, I tossed one of the newly made cards ahead of me.
A spark of electricity crackled. The card bounced once in place, then, instead of rolling, it slapped flat against the corridor floor. A distinctly unnatural movement.
“So, lightning is flowing through here. Can't let my guard down.”
If it were a person, I could have read their mind and reacted accordingly. I grumbled and took out the Ten of Spades. I inserted it into my bio-receptor, just like a Clothing Packet, and stepped forward.
There was a slight tingling sensation, but it quickly faded. Before the might of the earth, a fleeting flash like lightning is bound to die down. The electric current followed my Arch-Avatar, was sucked into my Ten of Spades, and vanished.
After clearing the corridor, I pushed open the second door. It was significantly lighter than the first one of thick steel. As the door opened, the sight Claudia had wanted to hide appeared before my eyes.
Countless beds were lined up in neat rows. Separated by partitions and much smaller than standard beds, they gave the room a cramped, crowded feeling. Unfittingly, various devices hung over the beds, making the space feel even more oppressive.
Adding to it was the sound of crying. The grating wails of newborns pierced my ears sharply.
The noise in my head was going haywire. The thoughts of children, more primal than those of beasts and lacking any clear language, flooded my mind-reading senses. Muddled thoughts I couldn't distinguish as pain, want, or simple discontent. I could read them, but I couldn't understand them. Because they themselves didn't know what they were. They hadn't learned yet.
This isn't going to be easy. I feel like I'm about to regress to infancy myself.
“H-Hey! You can’t come in here!”
‘All the other Thunder Disciples are outside right now…!’
Just then, the child I had seen at the top of the Lightning Tower spotted me and came running over. A Thunder Disciple, was it? He was still a child, not even a Guardian yet, but he was the oldest one here.
“Hello. Jerry, was it?”
“Yes, hello… But how did you get in here? You can’t get through unless you can handle the power of lightning!”
“Is that so? I felt a little tickle. I guess that was the power of lightning.”
“Y-You broke through with brute force? Th-Then are you an intruder?”
Jerry raised his arms defensively, a faint aura of thunder gathering around them.
Even if I'm just a normal human, I'm a full-grown adult male. Snapping a child's arm is as easy as snapping a child's arm. Of course, being a normal human, I wouldn't use my strength on a child.
“You know me. I’m a guest of the Thunderarch. I got lost.”
“How did you end up here if you were lost…?”
“If I’d found the right way, I would’ve gone the right way. I’m here because I got lost.”
“That makes sense…?”
He fell for that. In any case, taking advantage of Jerry’s slightly lowered guard, I looked around and spoke.
“Anyway, isn’t this inside the Lightning Tower? They’re hunting the Thunder God up there. Shouldn’t you be evacuating?”
“It’s okay. We’re safe inside the Lightning Tower.”
“Ah, so that's why these children are here instead of at home? To be safe from the lightning?”
“These children are…”
Jerry hesitated, unsure if he should say more. It wasn't exactly a secret, but it wasn't something to be spoken of openly either. After a moment's thought, he must have decided it was better to explain than to be misunderstood, and he opened his mouth.
“They’re abandoned children.”
“By whom? The Thunderarch?”
“O-Of course not! The Thunderarch is the one who took these children in!”
I’ve got it. He's the model student type. In this case, it's better to intentionally miss the mark and let him correct me than to ask directly.
Reading his mind would be easiest, but my head is a bit of a mess right now.
“The Thunderarch provides for all children born in the Fallen Dominion so they can live in Claudia! But… but the wicked dholes exploit that rule. They just have a child and present it to gain residency in Claudia. As if it were just an object!”
“Aha. Because having a child gives them the right to stay in Claudia?”
“Yes. And after that, many of them just neglect the child. They even throw them away quite often.”
Now that he’d said this much, I didn't need to lead him on any further. His own emotions became the fuse, and his feelings intensified. Jerry now spilled everything without being asked.
“…Especially if the child has a disability.”
I see. So the emotion underlying these cries was pain. No wonder my head was spinning.
In the Fallen Dominion, for every three children born, one dies, another is born with a disability, and only the last one is, at least on the surface, healthy. This is because when the crops created by the Golden Lord form a body alongside other ‘normal’ crops, the balance is thrown off.
The newborns gathered here were all disabled. Whether their parents abandoned them knowing of their disabilities or had no choice but to leave them here, I couldn't know.
“We feed them and take care of them… The children who overcome their disabilities and grow up safely become Thunder Disciples. Overcoming their disabilities gives them a certain resistance to the power of thunder.”
Because the more one's body is composed of the Golden Lord's crops, the more conductive it becomes to lightning. I put on a pitiful expression and said.
“That means quite a lot of children must die.”
“…It can’t be helped. It’s a harsh reality. All we can do is hope that God will take these children to a good place…”
Jerry closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, as if he’d forgotten that just yesterday he’d said the Sky God was evil.
In the face of unavoidable tragedy, all humans can do is hope. Faith sprouts in places like this. From the wish that one's hopes do not simply vanish. From the desire that they lead to a result somewhere, somehow.
Faith is inevitably rooted in tragedy. It sprouts and blossoms from the shattered remains of a heart that, in its desire to help others, collided with reality.
“You’re wrong.”
“What?”
…But sometimes, or perhaps quite often, faith creates tragedy in order to survive.
The faith that humans created turns around and dominates them.
“God won’t take these children to a good place. Never.”
“Wh-What?”
“He called them to this place, which is already not a good place for them. Is he mocking them? What do you expect him to do for them after they’ve died in agony?”
Humans can be dominated. Humans are fundamentally animals, after all; if something superior appears, they will put on a collar and become livestock.
But that something cannot be faith. Faith is a tool, and just as a tool cannot grasp and wield a human, neither can faith.
“Jerry. Where did these children come from?”
“Wh-Where…? From the Fallen Dominion…”
“Why are they suffering?”
“Because of the Golden Lord’s crops, they were born with disabilities.”
“At whose call did they come?”
“The Thunderarch’s…”
Realizing too late that he was being led, Jerry stopped mid-sentence and shouted.
“Y-You’re trying to slander the Thunderarch, aren’t you! Aren’t you!”
“No. She probably doesn’t realize it herself. She’s maintaining this system unintentionally, or without ever thinking about it.”
I know because I read her thoughts. The Thunderarch herself acts out of goodwill… or rather, a sense of duty. A sense of duty that was learned while growing up here, just like Jerry.
When a body is formed by eating the crops personally alchemized by the Golden Lord, it becomes robust but weak to external interference. Much like a homunculus. Without learning Qi Arts or awakening a Unique Magic, a mere brush with the Golden Lord would turn them into raw material.
If one eats the crops grown in Claudia, they are no different from any other ordinary human. Still, getting close to the Golden Lord is dangerous either way. The rampaging Golden Lord is a threat to everyone.
But if both exist side by side, if they achieve a balance where they mix and drift through the Fallen Dominion, the tragedy of the Fallen Dominion will continue until one side is eliminated.
“A precisely manipulated causality has struck a balance. All of this is just a part of it.”
“Ah, ugh…”
Jerry covered his ears and groaned, as if trying to unhear my words. But in the brief moment his attention lapsed, the uncomfortable infants began to wail even louder. The crying spread to the other babies like a plague. For a species that continues its line, the cry of the next generation has the power to summon the previous one. The grating dissonance grips everyone.
If there's a hell on earth, this is it.
“Now, where was it.”
Normally, one would stop here. They would lament the inherent tragedy of the Fallen Dominion and shed a tear.
But I walked past the screaming infants and reached the opposite wall. It looked like nothing was there, but I had read about a secret place beyond it in the Thunderarch's memories.
I drew the Eight of Spades and scraped it along a groove in the wall. A flash of light sparked, and the wall transformed into hundreds of cards that scattered into the air. The countless cards fluttered to the ground like startled butterflies, and an empty space was revealed in the gap of the dispersed wall.
The secret place of the first Thunderarch that I had read in the Thunderarch's memories.