Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: S2. A Grudge Offered to the Stars -5
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The top priority was Tara. She believed Bennett was dead. Watching her clutch her severed arm and stare blankly for so long made my own chest ache.
I needed to clear up the misunderstanding and confirm that both Bennett and Niore were alive.
I could directly connect past and future. Outer Gods, by their nature, warped space-time, so there was no risk of setting collapse. I planned to use the glass window as a medium, letting them see and cooperate with each other continuously.
The Evil God, that troublemaker, seemed to have a vague inkling of my plan.
The Evil God layered all sorts of illusions over the glass window to sabotage me. Scenes of Bennett and Niore cursing Tara from hell, or kissing each other at a wedding ceremony.
I quashed it quickly, but the Evil God's wedge was already driven in.
"...This is just an illusion. Cheap tricks like this..."
Tara bit her lip hard and shattered the glass window. She looked genuinely hurt.
This was meant to deal mental damage to Tara while disrupting my plan at the same time. It dressed up every image in the glass as the Evil God's ploy to sow despair, making her doubt even the fact of their survival.
It was a cunning trick, but not unbeatable. For now... maybe lighten the mood with a bit of comedy. First, calm her down.
I raised the perceived temperature slightly to make it feel warm and tweaked the surrounding scenery a bit. In a spot not yet in her view, I placed a single out-of-place flower blooming from a crack in the asphalt.
It would contrast nicely with the wrecked world and gloomy corpse-strewn landscape. And position a vanity mirror like discarded trash. Familiar to women; it should catch her eye.
Adding nostalgic trinkets from better days seemed good too, so I pulled a teacup resource from Abraham's mansion and tossed it to the Magic Tower Master.
"Roughly smash this and bag it in trash. Make sure it's visible on top so even a glance reveals 'Oh, this matches Abraham's teacup'."
"Uh, yeah...!"
I whipped it up and placed it.
The journey started at a recycling center, where I first met Abraham too, right? Yeah, then add a streetlamp nearby. Nice, not bad.
Now for the other side... guide Bennett and Niore. With numbers on their side, they were mentally stable, and Bennett, seasoned as a black mage, kept a sound mind. Boost their mood to trickle down to the gloomy Tara.
100 years in the future...
To Bennett and Niore, it'd feel like suddenly dropped in a wasteland. I needed to convey this was 100 years later. Simple: plant similar buildings, weathered.
And scatter clues for Niore to pick up.
Looked like wasteland, but human traces remained. Post-Evil God descent and devastation, people still lived on—surprisingly peaceful.
No monster tracks in sight; erased mutated footprints. Relocated threats to those snowy mountains. Let them relax safely.
Add pastoral hints. Something absurd for mood lift? Panties it is.
I scattered panties along Bennett's path.
"...I can't follow your train of thought."
"No time for chit-chat with the Tower Master. Process this, this, and that too. Not sure if we'll use it."
"Arghhh...!"
I dumped infinite busywork on the meddling Tower Master. Bennett saw the handmade wool panties and inferred: 1) Sheep are raised here. 2) Wool gathered for clothes. Civilization level.
And now, the killer mood booster...
"Oh."
"...What?"
"Let's make statues honoring Bennett, Tara, and Niore."
"...????"
"Carve them."
The Tower Master sweated bullets, frantically chiseling statues.
Niore pieced together from terrain, geography, and remaining buildings that this was about 100 years in the future. The soft soil had turned crumbly, civilization half-eroded... but less dire than expected.
She'd braced for everything swallowed by void, monsters torturing to death—a hellscape. But no.
Had the Evil God retreated in this future?
Human traces everywhere. Even after that horror descended, humanity endured, sustaining the species. It stirred odd emotions.
Niore's abdomen was wrapped in cloth. A fatal wound normally, but perhaps the goddess's crystal's lingering power granted final healing?
Not fully gone, but basic first aid made movement possible.
No Evil God whispers here—its power didn't reach? That alone lifted Niore's spirits. She surveyed calmly and wrote,
[Hasn't... collapsed, has it. Humanity.]
"Seems they're surviving. Some buildings look recently used... Hm?"
Bennett picked up wool fabric rolling on cracked asphalt. Uncrumpling revealed women's underwear, made within the last decade.
Faint detergent scent tickled his senses. Recently washed.
[People living nearby, not far...]
"Don't drop your guard. Could be monsters mimicking humans."
First aid done, but Bennett armless, Niore gut-wounded. Caution essential even at full strength; more so injured.
Niore scanned carefully, then finger-wrote on Bennett's broad back.
[Still, no signs of violence...]
"........."
They advanced cautiously.
Good weather, refreshing blue sky under sunlight. Despite cult leader's final spell blasting them from Tara, sky mockingly clear.
Silly thought: what if Tara got caught too?
Then they found the mirror. Store window glass, somehow intact. Reflection glitched violently, showing entirely different images.
"........."
Monster jumping out? Bennett and Niore tensed, staring. Beyond: pitch-black city under starlit mockery, swarming monsters.
[...Past visible. Hallucination?]
"I see it too. Likely hallucination... That's?"
[Tara?]
Far in the glass: blood-soaked Tara slaughtering zealots. Wielding unfamiliar thorny vines, but outfit and demon sword marked Tara.
Her face twisted in agony and regret. Bennett frowned unwittingly. Didn't suit her.
[Wait, Bennett. Over there.]
Focused on image, Bennett turned at Niore's urgent shoulder taps.
"...What the. Hell."
Weird phenomenon: noise on adjacent building, massive rift vanishing. Flowers blooming, broken glass repairing.
Key clue next instant: Tara hurled sword, impaling zealot on wall. Identical dent appeared on this building's wall.
"...Future altering in real-time from past events?"
[Rifts closing from Tara killing zealots? Then, we must tell her.]
"If they see us too, we can communicate. Medium seems glass—find some near her."
Bennett and Niore ran. Mere hunch, but exploiting this... maybe achieve something.
After navigating city, they faced Tara via dilapidated vanity.
Turning corner after slaying another zealot, an incongruous white flower caught Tara's eye, swaying in breeze. Unnamed.
"........."
Scanning for next prey, trash bag half-toppled against wall. Shards of broken teacup glinted inside. Abraham's cocoa cup? Same brand?
Finally, discarded vanity. Peering in mirror, Tara scowled. Too late to look away. Faced them again.
Again.
Another damned illusion.
Bennett and Niore peered from vanity. Tara clenched fists. What grudges this time? How to torment her heart?
Smash before voices? But she hesitated unwittingly. Craving one more glimpse of faces, voices—even if sharp words. Illusion or not, wanted to see.
But this time, different.
-Tara, can you hear? We're alive. Seems cult leader's final spell hurled us 100 years into future.
"...Ha."
Mirror-Bennett spoke calmly. Severed arm stabbed Tara's heart painfully.
Evil God's illusions growing subtler, fostering hope then crushing.
"Not falling for it. Damn... god. I know you're illusions."
-.........
"Vanish. Just vanish. Please. Even mirror ghosts, don't want to shatter you..."
Bennett looked briefly flustered, consulted standing Niore. She pondered deeply. New details absent before.
Tara steeled herself. Dare hope they're real? Alive? Must deny, erase.
Believe and they'd vanish smiling like mad mage's dream family... mirage.
-Seems... seen prior illusions. Can't discern real from fake?
"........."
-No proof then. Just... believe us... Hm?
Niore paused writing on back, glanced at Tara, grabbed flat board, inscribed with mana. Tara could read.
[What if we say something an illusion absolutely wouldn't?]
-Like what?
[Evil God showed illusions to break your mind. Words stabbing dark heart recesses... So opposite. Praise?]
"...????"
Conversation veering oddly. Prior illusions hadn't said that.
-Hm... Tara, you punch well. Some flaws, but vanguard-inapt, still impressive. Why hit? Niore.
[Praise, I said.]
-Demonstrate then.
[Um... Tara has... nice figure! Sideboob peeking through outfit holes, like water droplets, perfect. Mine too big uselessly; envy Tara's shapely breasts...]
-...Isn't that harassment from me?
"........."
Real?
And that's praise? More subtle... self-boast?
Tara confused. This cunning—if Evil God's illusion, pass on conscience?
-Hm, so... Your side slits too revealing. Not like you enjoy stares, so modest better?
[Praise, I said.]
-...So, hm. Tara, your... butt's big.
[Praise. Not harassment.]
-What am I supposed to do...?!
[Honest memorable bits.]
Seem real.
Mirror-Bennett, youth-wasted black mage, groaned long, eked words. Memorable: Tara's kick...
-...Inner thigh mole. Suited you. And—
"...S-Stop! Got it, got it!"
Tara flailed hands, emergency brake. Rare shame flushed face red, not anger.
Fanning furiously to cool burning cheeks, she relaxed shoulders. Evil God unlikely this detailed prank.
Felt noose around neck gone. Thanking fate, hand on chest, deep relief sigh. Faint smile.
"...You guys... alive."
-Worried much?
"Yeah, a lot."
-Sorry for worry. Forgive?
Awkward apology drew Tara's laugh. He fought hard, got done in—no crime. Why beg forgiveness?
Tear at eye corner—from laughter? Or else? Tara wiped with finger, stuck tongue out.
"Won't forgive. Idiot."
-.........
Knock knock.
[Ahem. Tara, sorry interrupt. Much to discuss, do... right?]
Thus, reunion complete.