Chapter 257: Branch (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 257: Branch (1)
A dark temple lay beneath the roots.
Two figures sat within.
One was the Apostle of Wrath, draped in a black robe.
The other was—
"Hmm—"
A silver-haired man who seemed entirely out of place in the gloomy basement.
Letting out a satisfied hum, he—or rather—
"I like it."
The Apostle of Mysophobia nodded, looking quite pleased with the current situation.
"…You like it?"
The question came from the Sin of Wrath, hidden beneath a robe as dark as an invisible abyss.
A bizarre voice echoed out—one that made the listener frown, as it was impossible to tell if it belonged to an old man, a child, a woman, or a man.
"Yeah, I like it."
The Apostle of Mysophobia didn't let his smile fade.
"Look, the numbers match perfectly now, don't they? Just the two of us."
He spoke with a refreshing lightness.
"Phew—you know, other people might not care, but things like that really bother me. So I'm actually quite satisfied with how things turned out. Oh—of course, I didn't want the other Apostles to die, okay? I would've been happy if even just one more had died."
Then there would be four of us. Two on the left, two on the right. A perfect match—
The Apostle of Mysophobia chuckled to himself, muttering under his breath.
Wrath, who had been watching him silently, finally spoke.
"So, what do you plan to do?"
"About what?"
"You should know from the failures of the previous Apostles. You know what I am talking about."
At Wrath's words, Mysophobia tilted his head curiously before letting out an "Ah!" of realization.
"You mean the fact that the seeds we sowed were ruined? That is certainly a shame. We put a lot of effort into them, and now it looks like they'll be scrapped without even being used properly. Well, even so—"
He grinned.
"I'm not particularly worried. We tinkered with them as avatars of That Person, but it's not like we have to use them."
"…Then?"
"There's no need to obsess over that thing. Well—I'll kill it eventually to recover what's ours, but I don't need to get my own hands dirty for that."
Mysophobia smiled and pulled an ink-black hexahedron from his robes.
"Do you know what this is?"
"That is—"
"Something made by a certain half-baked fellow, but it turned out to be quite useful. So I mass-produced them. I even added a 'tiny bit' of That Person's authority for good measure."
"…Do you intend to create an avatar with that?"
In response to the question, Mysophobia placed the hexahedron down in front of Wrath.
"Of course not—this is just a preparation for the others. Even if they aren't Apostles of That Person, they all need to manifest eventually, don't they?"
"Then—"
"Naturally, I've already decided on the avatar who will receive my Great One. I happened to find a rather decent fellow."
He walked to the opposite side of the table.
"Well, it seems we're done talking, so I'll be going now. See you later."
The Apostle of Mysophobia waved his hand with a smile.
Just as his figure began to fade away—
"Ah."
As if remembering something he had forgotten to mention, Mysophobia let out a soft exclamation.
"Just in case, I'll take care of that guy too. Marquis Palatio? It seems most of the failures were because of him."
He waved his hand once more.
"You might not show it, but unlike me, you're grieving the deaths of the other Apostles, aren't you?"
With that, he vanished completely.
Silence descended upon the temple once more.
Left alone, the Apostle of Wrath stared silently at the Abyss Body the Apostle of Mysophobia had left behind, then reached out.
A hand emerged from the featureless robe.
The hand lifted the Abyss Body.
Bringing it close to his face, the Apostle of Wrath—
"…Marquis Palatio."
Muttering the name Mysophobia had mentioned, he stared blankly at the Abyss Body for a long time.
For a long, long time.
* * *
Before returning to the Marquisate, Alon stopped by Greinif one last time and received an unexpected item from Magrina.
"This is…"
"It's your ring, isn't it, Brother?"
It was the very ring Alon had lost in the past.
Alon examined the ring Magrina handed him.
It had faded slightly, perhaps unable to fully withstand the passage of time, but it was undoubtedly the ring he used to wear.
"…Where did you get this?"
When Alon asked, Magrina closed her eyes for a moment as if awakening an old memory.
"Someone gave it to me."
"…Someone?"
"Yes. A person with blue eyes."
[It must be that fellow I saw.]
Basiliora, who happened to be outside the ring, replied while coiling his body.
"Do you happen to know who he is?"
Magrina shook her head at Alon's question.
"No, not at all. I was curious why he had your ring, so I looked into it in my own way, but there was no information at all."
"Just in case, do you remember what he looked like?"
"Hmm—no. He was wrapped tightly in a black robe, so I could only see his eyes."
[Exactly as I remember.]
Magrina tilted her head at Basiliora's agreement.
"I thought maybe you would know something, Brother, but I guess he's a stranger to you as well."
"Yes."
Alon nodded, but then he suddenly realized something strange.
"Magrina, when exactly did you get this ring?"
"I remember it was about a month or two after you disappeared."
"…."
Alon frowned at her answer.
If what Magrina said was true, a strange contradiction arose.
If that's the case, shouldn't there be two rings?
Magrina had certainly received the ring from a mysterious blue-eyed person, and seven hundred years later, she had handed it to Alon.
In other words, for those seven hundred years, the ring Alon had lost had been with Magrina.
On the surface, this might not seem like a problem, but there was one clear contradiction.
As far as Alon knew, if this ring was a unique item—the only one of its kind in the world—then it made no sense for Alon to have obtained this very ring in the Labyrinth a few years ago.
…Because the ring Alon lost should have been with Magrina.
And the same goes for the gloves.
Alon looked down at his hands.
These gloves, which according to the setting were used as a staff by the Primordial Elf, were also causing a strange contradiction.
When he went to the past, he hadn't taken any particular action, like sealing the gloves in the place where he originally found them.
After a moment of deep thought—
"I see. Thank you for looking after the ring."
"It was nothing, Brother."
Alon stood up from his seat.
* * *
[What are you thinking about so deeply?]
It had been about a week since they left Greinif.
Basiliora asked Alon, who had been staring out the window in silence for a long time.
"…There are many things that don't quite sit right with me."
[Things that don't sit right?—Ah, are you talking about what you mentioned back then? The ring and the gloves?]
"Yes. And there's also the matter of the blue eyes."
"Ah—it certainly sounds a bit strange when you put it that way."
Evan, who had been listening from the side, nodded and then shrugged his shoulders.
"But well… in the end, didn't everything turn out fine?"
"It's not that a problem has occurred."
Alon stroked his chin.
Evan was right.
No specific problem had arisen.
Nevertheless, it kept bothering him.
In all his experiences in Psychedelia so far, while many parts of the original story and settings had changed, a fundamental setting like this had never been altered before.
There's something. I feel like there's something here.
It was a sensation like something was caught in his mind.
Just then.
"Ah, Marquis, speaking of which, there was something I wanted to tell you."
"What is it?"
Evan leaned in closer.
"Do you remember the Abyss Bodies?"
"If you mean the Abyss Bodies…"
"Yes, the ones from the time with Duke Comallon."
"…Are you saying they're still being circulated?"
"Hmm—it's not quite that. I told you last time that one or two of them still move around, didn't I?"
Alon nodded.
He had heard such news from Evan even after Duke Comallon's fall.
"Then what is it?"
"This is just a rumor, but they say a special kind of Abyss Body is currently being circulated in large quantities."
"…In large quantities?"
"Yes. It seems someone has started producing Abyss Bodies again. Because of that, the underworld is a bit restless."
"That's not very good news."
"I suppose not."
"But what's so special about these Abyss Bodies?"
When Alon got to the point, Evan thought for a moment before speaking.
"I heard they enhance abilities much more significantly than the ones originally in circulation."
"…Much more?"
"Yes."
[Hmph, even so, aren't they just enhanced versions of those half-baked failures we fought last time? Nothing to worry about.]
Basiliora snorted and boasted.
"Didn't you struggle against one of those half-baked failures last time?"
[What nonsense are you talking about?! I could've smashed five of them to pieces by myself!]
"Is that so?"
Then Evan began to bicker with Basiliora as if he were an automated response machine.
The carriage became noisy once again.
[Kyu—]
Blackie, who had been sleeping in Alon's lap, rubbed his eyes and looked at the two of them as if they were pathetic….
The peaceful journey continued for several more weeks.
"Mentor!!"
As soon as they arrived at the Colony, Alon received a boisterous welcome.
Seolrang, who looked as if she had been waiting with bated breath, clung to Alon immediately.
"Have you been well?"
"Yes! I've been doing great!"
Alon stroked the head of the brightly smiling Seolrang.
"…?"
He felt a bit puzzled seeing Seolrang's secretary, Lime, who had come to meet them, wearing a somewhat awkward smile.
"Marquis, since we arrived early in the morning, why don't we head over right away?"
"Let's do that."
Following Evan's suggestion, they immediately headed toward the Ruins.
Alon entered the entrance of the Ruins as usual and walked through the long tunnel.
The scenery of the Ruins slowly began to appear in the distance.
As Alon gazed at the sight—
"…?"
An inquisitive expression crossed his face despite himself.
The reason was that he felt a profound sense of familiarity with the Ruins, which he hadn't seen in a long time.
It was a sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen that scenery somewhere else.
"…? Mentor? What's wrong?"
Seolrang, walking beside him, tilted her head in confusion.
But Alon, staring blankly ahead—
"Ah."
With a soft exclamation, he reached two realizations.
He realized where he had seen this scenery before.
And.
He realized why he had felt such a sense of familiarity when he went to the past and saw the capital of the Nonhuman Alliance.
"It was… this place."
Only then did Alon realize.
This place was the capital of the other races he had seen 700 years ago.