Chapter 211
Chapter 211
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 211
Chapter Title: Theseus's Ship
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I calmly settled on my concept. The enigmatic mage who roams across dimensions, saving worlds. I dropped my voice low and laced it with profound meaning.
Because if I'd spoken too lightly, like some sleazy informant, a sword would've come flying at me with a sharp "Cut the crap." I needed to act like there was something to this guy, to make him think there really was.
And first, I denied the very premise at the root of all this trouble.
"This kid isn't an Outer God."
"You think that makes sense? Even if her appearance, power, and speech have changed..."
"That pitch-black flicker in those eyes... There's no way I wouldn't recognize it."
"Is that so...?"
Sharp one, isn't he? Does the taint of his former black mage days never fade, or is he still brooding over the session's events?
I glanced around. The hostage drama unfolding right in the middle of the street had drawn a crowd of onlookers buzzing with interest. I could've handled this quietly with Illusion Magic, but I'd deliberately stirred up a commotion to attract attention.
My goals were twofold.
One was to act as a megaphone. A call for help to Pink Ballet, who'd ditched the kid and run off, and to the sulking Magic Tower Master who'd hidden away.
The other was to use public scrutiny itself as a shield. A dirty trick, sure, but necessary to keep Evil God-chan's head from getting lopped off.
In the heart of the city, openly slaughtering what appeared to be a fragile little girl would be devastating to his reputation.
Bennett needed the Hero Selection Tournament to go his way to save Tara, so he'd hold back unless pushed too far... Or so I'd thought.
His grudge runs deeper than I expected.
"I did receive your help. I feel gratitude for it. But my revenge takes priority. So heed my warning—step aside."
"Would the other two think the same?"
"Yeah, Tara and Niore would make the same choice as me."
"......"
Not even a hint of hesitation in his answer.
What Bennett went through was a meticulously crafted tale, all Illusion Magic. No victims. But he doesn't know that.
If I told him now that it was all fake... He wouldn't believe me. It'd take ages to convince him.
To resolve this, I needed to make him accept the distinction between an Outer God and Evil God-chan.
"...You're not planning to throw me to Bennett, right? Right, Mima?!"
"I am thinking about it, so shut up for a sec."
I pressed down firmly on Evil God-chan's head as she clung to my leg. She had an exaggerated fear of Bennett.
Like how a bug crawling down your neck as a kid leaves a lifelong phobia, Bennett—the origin of her birth—seemed to be Evil God-chan's trauma.
Sin and punishment.
But even if Bennett's experience was real, I sincerely believe Evil God-chan is a separate being from "that thing."
Just as I see myself apart from "that."
I brought up the discourse of my past life.
"If you feel gratitude toward me, hear me out just this once. Have you heard of Theseus's Ship, Bennett?"
"......"
"Of course not. It's a concept that doesn't exist here. There might be something similar, but they wouldn't borrow the name of the ancient hero Theseus..."
"Explain."
There's a famous, entertaining paradox. One that spawns dozens of variations depending on perspective.
"There was a ship sailed by the hero Theseus. The Athenians wanted to preserve that vessel of his great feats for as long as possible, so whenever a plank rotted, they'd replace it with a new one."
The Athenians repeated this process. Removing old planks and attaching new ones to honor the hero's legacy. And the years passed.
"Eventually, not a single original plank from Theseus's time remained. So, could you still call it Theseus's Ship?"
"...If the original form is gone, no."
"Then when does it stop being Theseus's Ship? After one plank? Ten? Or the instant even one original plank is replaced, does it lose its essence?"
"......"
Bennett pondered the question. He could've brushed it off as koan nonsense, but I appreciated that he engaged.
Of course, there's no right answer. Just beliefs. And mine is this. I placed a hand over my heart and spoke my mind plainly.
"Here's what I think. 'Meaning' must always be considered alongside 'direction.'"
What meaning is there in a conscience that doesn't act, a gun that isn't fired, a theory without utility? Direction matters.
"Even if not a single original plank remains, if it sails alongside the hero's great journey, it is Theseus's Ship. But even if perfectly preserved as original, if it never embarks on adventure, the odds it remains Theseus's Ship dwindle."
Therefore.
From "that thing"—a ship devoid of any function to feel joy from good deeds.
Yuna ripped off one massive plank to form a new ship, and I fitted it with a sail of conscience. Evil God-chan exists in this ambiguous space. I explained this to Bennett.
"This child is an extract from the Evil God. I infused that fragment with good intentions. She dwells on the vague boundary, neither fully new nor original."
"So you're claiming her past sins have been wiped clean. Is that it, mage?"
"I'm saying we haven't decided what to call her yet. Bennett. What matters is 'direction,' and she herself determines that."
Just as I, a murky mix of gray, chose the middle path, Evil God-chan deserves the chance to pick her own way forward. I've given her all the ingredients for that choice.
Now it's up to her.
"If she chooses the path of evil, call her an Outer God then. Hold her accountable for its sins. At that point, I'll even help you shatter and burn the fragment..."
But if she rejects her former self and vows a new path.
"Then... couldn't you call her not an Outer God, but just a girl cursed with rotten parents?"
"......"
The persuasion was complete.
Bennett gripped and released the sword hilt repeatedly. He seemed to be mulling my words.
I feigned relaxation, leaving it to his choice... but the hand pressing Evil God-chan's head subtly prepared a spell. Humans die from a snapped neck, but information beings are trickier.
A succubus queen can be slain in manifested form, but in dream-informatized state, it's different. I could exploit that to fake a death.
I didn't want to clash with Bennett or lose Evil God-chan.
I softened her information a bit. She let out a weird "Nuek!" but stayed put, knowing it was to save her neck.
And fortunately.
"...I see."
Bennett closed his eyes and sheathed his sword. He'd understood.
Not just Evil God-chan, but his former black mage self had sins too. Maybe he reflected on that.
Good.
Evil God-chan and I sighed in relief simultaneously. If it worked, great. Now just thaw this icy atmosphere. We whispered.
"...Hey, Evil God-chan. Do some cute trick or something."
"...Have you lost your mind, Mima? If I act all cutesy to a guy we barely held back, he'll draw dual blades and charge."
True enough.
As I resolved to sacrifice myself for comic relief, an unexpected development arose.
A priest emerged from the crowd surrounding us.
"An impressive... tale, mage. And you too, Bennett."
Familiar face. From ages ago, in Irid's think tank—the young lady's uncle, Field Priest Julius or whatever. Looked the part.
With a subdued smile, he approached between us and fixed me with his gaze.
Speaking loudly yet calmly.
"Then... I have a question. Mage of the Violet Tower. There's a grand ship called the Goddess Church. Long ago, all its planks were replaced, and more will change ahead. New faithful, new cardinals, new popes..."
Murmurs of recognition rippled from the crowd. As former cardinal, he had name value. Eyes focused sharper.
Brief fluster at this stranger butting in—then a prickling instinct hit.
"...So how can this ship become the Goddess's Ship?"
He'd turn our spat into a political jab at the corrupt old guard!
I spun my thoughts fast. I planned to aid Bennett's "reformists" anyway, so hammering entrenched rot was fine by me.
He seemed to judge similarly. Fine, ride the wave. Details later.
I wove Illusion Magic into my voice for clarity and projection, echoing everywhere—including to Field Priest Uncle.
And orated.
"A ship called religion naturally replaces its planks. Time carries saints beyond distant waters, leaving only 'direction' in the end."
"Then what direction should the Goddess's Ship sail?"
"Original intent. The path the Goddess pointed to, when the Goddess Church was pure and devoted. We pursue the greatest meaning."
Field Priest Uncle wore an exaggeratedly moved expression. Some in the crowd nodded or clapped in agreement.
"...Well said, mage. I've gained great insight today. Care to discuss the Goddess Church's future path further, you and Bennett?"
"Agreed. Come along, Brother Bennett—such fine connections deserve celebration. Let's move to a spot with good drinks and views."
I casually released the "hostage" like nothing happened, chatted amiably with Field Priest Uncle, and we went.
Bennett looked baffled at the sudden turn but seemed to know the priest. A nod, and he followed.
Thus, the midday hostage crisis wrapped as a reformist religious gathering.
Thinking about it.
Surviving as the brother of the Northern Grand Duke, ruthless enough to exile his own daughter.
Being shockingly present at Irid's personnel muster.
Having climbed to cardinal, with enough rep that folks in the crowd recognized him.
The young lady thinking meeting this "uncle" would fix everything.
All this screamed that Field Priest Uncle wasn't some timid nice guy—he was a political wizard.
"Former Cardinal and current Field Priest, Dakiten Julius. Haha..."
He laughed affably, but a fox lurked inside. I crossed my legs, plopped Evil God-chan atop, and asked slantwise.
"What was that show earlier? I played along, but."
"Seemed like a good chance, so I jumped in... Sorry if rude."
But you know I rolled with it. If I'm riding the Bennett reformist train, it benefits us both—no need to apologize then.
"You barely registered back at Second Prince's place."
"So many high lords gathered..."
No need to stand out amid princesses, princes, and Magic Tower Masters.
"Bennett, you know him? Explain if you do."
"...Sure. Short version, mage: You know Tara can't wield divine power. She stole it from corrupt priests via the fable 'Extreme Reluctance,' but limits hit."
Lots of villains out there, but endless exploitation draws suspicion eventually.
Priests losing power wherever Tara went? Fingers point naturally. So she needed a stable divine power source.
Someone who knew she lacked it yet tolerated—or aided—the theft.
"He approached us reformists. Said he shared our dissatisfaction with the current Goddess Church, aimed same direction."
"...Did I sound that cool?"
"Claimed he could share divine power. And ways to convincingly fake it."
Telling words.
Per Bennett's intro, Field Priest Uncle stood dramatically for self-presentation. More con artist than priest vibe.
"...Field Priest Dakiten Julius, now active in the 'reformists.' Pleased to meet you all."
I clapped halfheartedly, sorting thoughts.
Young lady's request cleared on its own.
Misunderstanding with Bennett tentatively resolved.
Left: Lightly aid Bennett's woes, enjoy divine city dates, gather Goddess intel...
...And get some love advice.