Chapter 83: A Nod (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 83: A Nod (3)
[The god of this world has had their divine throne usurped.]
A voice echoes in Alon’s ear.
It is a bizarre sound, layered with strange static, making it impossible to tell if it belongs to a man, a woman, a child, or an elder.
Alon, who had certainly experienced this phenomenon once before, suddenly realized his body was floating alone in a place that resembled the deep sea he had seen earlier.
[The original gods, stripped of their thrones, were robbed of much.]
The static-filled voice continued its low narrative.
[Some, their names.]
[Some, their bodies.]
[Some, their minds.]
[Some, their honor.]
[Much was lost, much was plundered.]
[The black things... they plundered so much.]
Alon focused on the mysterious voice, feeling as though he might lose consciousness if he let his guard down for even a second, when a sense of doubt struck him.
According to what he knew, the moment he looked into the mirror, he was supposed to face the truth.
Yet, in his field of vision, there was only a void darker than the deep sea, and only the static-filled voice could be heard.
‘What on earth is this?’
Alon tried to speak, but unfortunately, his voice would not come out as he intended.
The moment he felt the strangeness of it—
[That is— b̸e̸v̸a̸e̸l̸n̸a̸e̸t̸b̸y̸a̸n̸t̸t̸e̸u̸m̸r̸u̸k̸n̸y̸e̸o̸k̸k̸k̸w̸a̸e̸n̸g̸t̸t̸u̸n̸g̸n̸e̸o̸n̸g̸m̸u̸h̸n̸e̸u̸l̸m̸b̸e̸l̸d̸e̸k̸m̸a̸l̸k̸b̸i̸m̸────]
“!”
A voice, now even more heavily distorted with ear-splitting static, rang out. Instinctively, Alon raised both hands to cover his ears.
[─────b̸e̸l̸d̸e̸k̸n̸a̸e̸t̸g̸e̸u̸t̸d̸e̸u̸n̸g̸r̸w̸a̸n̸g̸m̸u̸b̸k̸k̸w̸a̸e̸n̸g̸r̸y̸a̸t̸g̸a̸c̸h̸r̸y̸u̸i̸m̸d̸a̸t̸b̸e̸k̸k̸u̸l̸k̸k̸w̸e̸o̸t̸h̸e̸u̸]
Unfortunately, the screeching sound, which felt like it might burst his eardrums, continued as if being hammered directly into his brain.
And then.
[As expected, not yet.]
Along with a low hum of noise.
[Slay the deprived ones hiding on the continent.]
By the time those words became audible again.
[P̸r̸e̸d̸a̸t̸i̸o̸n̸(捕食)̸,̸ ̸O̸ ̸T̸h̸o̸u̸]
Only then could Alon see.
[For now—]
What he was facing.
It was not the deep sea.
Nor was it the abyss.
Caught at the edge of Alon’s vision were countless nebulae.
[F̸o̸r̸ ̸y̸o̸u̸r̸ ̸s̸a̸k̸e̸,̸ ̸I̸ ̸s̸h̸a̸l̸l̸ ̸h̸o̸l̸d̸ ̸m̸y̸ ̸t̸o̸n̸g̸u̸e̸.̸]
Alon stared blankly ahead.
He gazed, as if possessed, at what he had thought was the abyss until now.
Simultaneously, as he ‘cognized’ what had appeared to be the abyss.
Static began to flicker in his vision as well.
A single point in his sight.
Half of his sight.
His entire field of vision.
It filled with static.
And Alon witnessed it.
The ‘Eye’ that was watching him.
An eye of the abyss, as if it held the nebulae within it.
And then.
[Close your eyes.]
With those words as a signal.
“Gasp—!”
He reflexively took a sharp breath, blinking his startled eyes several times. When he finally came to, he was back in the observatory beneath the deep sea.
The Observer standing before Alon—
“A-Are... Are you okay?”
She was looking at him with a look of utter bewilderment.
Alon, momentarily puzzled by her expression, realized his eyes felt damp and looked into the mirror.
And there.
“…….”
He saw his own reflection, blood streaming from his eyes, nose, and mouth.
* * *
A short while later.
“……I expected as much, but I suppose this isn't a normal situation?”
“Yes.”
Alon, having wiped away the blood, received that answer from the Observer.
She looked troubled, as if unsure how to explain, before finally speaking.
“So, you looked into the mirror and someone spoke to you?”
“Yes.”
“And you heard a story there.”
“Yes, it was definitely something related to the gods—”
“Wait, don't say any more than that.”
“……Was I not supposed to speak of it?”
“No. Not here, not anywhere else. It would be best if you didn't mention that story if possible. Unless you want to see those things attached to the roots crawling out.”
The Observer let out a long sigh.
“Anyway, you're saying what you saw inside the mirror was something massive covered in static?”
“Yes.”
At Alon’s nod, she hesitated for a moment before opening her mouth.
“……First, let me tell you this. The mirror you looked into just now is the ‘Bronze Mirror of Recorded History.’ Its effect, as the name suggests, is to show stored history.”
“Then normally—”
“Normally, you should have seen the history the mirror shows. That's the only ability the Bronze Mirror has, after all. But you—”
The Observer fell silent for a moment, choosing her words, then continued.
“—It seems you saw something else entirely.”
“……What is this ‘something else’?”
“I can't explain it either. No matter if I am the Observer, there's no way I could identify an entity capable of wedging itself into the Bronze Mirror’s power and wielding it at will.”
At those words, Alon looked down at the Bronze Mirror in his hand once more.
He wondered if the ability would activate this time.
But unfortunately, after witnessing that sight, nothing happened again no matter how much he looked at the mirror.
It was as if it were refusing to allow him to see it again.
Alon let out a sigh and finally set the mirror down, and the Observer continued her explanation.
“However, it's certain that you saw an entity you cannot handle. You bled profusely, and you said every word was laced with static.”
“……Does that happen when one sees an entity they cannot handle?”
“It happens if your status is significantly lower. I have no idea what's going on here.”
The Observer shifted her gaze from the mirror to Alon.
“For now, since things have turned out like this, I don't think there's anything more I can help you with.”
“……That is a pity. I haven't even learned half of the information I originally wanted.”
“However, there is one thing I can grasp based on what you told me.”
“……What is it?”
“The ‘deprived one’ that entity mentioned is likely an Outer God. And— it seems that whatever you saw might actually be trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?”
It was a word that didn't feel natural given what had just occurred.
As Alon looked puzzled, the Observer fell silent to organize her thoughts before continuing.
“I told you, didn't I? This mirror allows one to see history.”
“Yes.”
“However, not everyone sees the same history. The starting point is different.”
“The starting point is different?”
The Observer pointed to the Bronze Mirror.
“Basically, the history most people see when they look into this mirror is based on what you call the Age of Forgotten Gods. However, a few special individuals can see even further into the past.”
Alon listened to her words and asked a question.
“……So you're saying there is a past even further back than the Age of Forgotten Gods?”
“I haven't seen it myself, but I firmly believe it exists.”
“Why?”
“……Because the previous Observer— my master— passed away after leaving a final testament upon seeing that past.”
A testament that warned never to look at the past before the Age of Gods, she muttered, clicking her tongue bitterly.
“It was an absurd death. To die because a past that wouldn't appear even after using the mirror dozens of times suddenly showed itself.”
“……One dies just by seeing the distant past?”
“Yes. If your ‘status’ doesn't match, absolutely.”
She continued.
“If you had actually seen that past, it wouldn't have ended with just bleeding from your eyes, nose, and mouth. You would have likely died on the spot, spraying blood from your entire body, or at best, been left a vegetable.”
“…….”
“Of course, I don't know exactly what the criteria for seeing the past are, but if you were able to peer into the primordial past like my master, then in reality, that entity practically saved your life.”
“Could it be unrelated to that?”
“No, I believe it is related.”
The Observer spoke while looking at the Bronze Mirror held in Alon’s hand.
“When my master passed away while looking at the primordial era, the mirror lost its power for about a year. Just like it has now.”
“…….”
In her eyes, a faint trace of inexplicable anger and longing lingered.
A moment later.
“First, I'll send you back outside. Since the mirror has lost its power, there's nothing more you can do here. Unless you come back in a year.”
“……I'd appreciate that.”
Alon, having exited the hollow and boarded the sphere created by the Observer, spoke.
“There is one thing I would like to ask, if I may.”
“What is it?”
“……This isn't something I heard just now, but something I heard while dealing with an Outer God. Do you happen to know the term ‘Star Eater’?”
He threw that question at her.
* * *
Pellin and Penia had also disembarked at the Sipra Archipelago after Alon.
Aside from investigating the Fishmen, they were there because of the Blue Magic Tower’s goods being secretly supplied to the archipelago.
Fundamentally, magic tower goods were supposed to be handled only by legally contracted parties.
Penia and Pellin had come to Sipra to find out where these illegal goods were being distributed, in addition to investigating the Fishmen.
“Ugh— this is so annoying. Why do I, the Vice Tower Master, have to do this kind of work—”
As soon as Count Palatio was out of sight, she immediately returned to her usual self, dragging her staff with an expression that suggested life itself was a burden.
‘As I thought.’
Pellin thought of Count Palatio.
In truth, most of the suspicions he had held toward Count Palatio had vanished.
The magic the Count had displayed in the battle against the Fishmen a week ago was so magnificent that even Pellin couldn't easily grasp its depth.
However, the reason he thought of the Count while looking at Penia wasn't a question of why she acted so submissively toward him, but rather a question— no, a conviction— about the next stage.
Thus, after watching Penia for a while, Pellin finally spoke.
“Sister.”
“Why are you talking to me when I'm dying of heat?”
Penia replied irritably.
“Can I ask you just one thing?”
“What?”
Looking at her, Pellin casually tossed out the words.
“By any chance, do you like Count Palatio?”
And then.
Whack!
“Gah!”
Pellin was struck on the back of the head by Penia while they were still walking.
Pellin looked at Penia with a startled, yet utterly dumbfounded expression.
“Wait, why did you suddenly hit—”
But before he could finish his sentence, Penia smacked the back of his head once more.
“Seriously— I'm already annoyed enough because it's hot. Do you want to die, you brat?!”
As if an active volcano had erupted, she instantly began tearing at Pellin’s hair while indiscriminately pummeling his ribs with her other hand.
“Ow! Ow! Sister?! Why all of a sudden?!”
“Like him? I like him? Do you even hear yourself?! Why would I like Count Palatio?!”
“No, I just— because you act so demure whenever you're around him……!”
“You brat, I was always demure!”
“No, you're usually not like—”
“Bullshit! Why on earth would I like that man?! How do you even reach that conclusion?!”
“So, you don't?”
“There's no reason to like him in the first place, so why would I?! I... Count Palatio...”
Penia increased the speed of her punches, seemingly even more enraged by Pellin’s bewildered state.
Sensing instinctively that he had messed with the wrong person, Pellin tried to beg for forgiveness, but—
“—I do... like him.”
“……?”
Penia suddenly stopped her fists and spoke. Pellin, nursing his aching ribs, looked at her with a confused expression.
“I like him. Yes, of course I like him.”
He realized that her eyes, which were twitching slightly, were fixed on a single spot.
“…….”
When he turned his head, Count Palatio was there.
The Count was standing there, silently watching Penia and Pellin with an expressionless face.
And then.
“I... I l-love you...?”
……Penia’s pathetic and mournful voice reached Pellin’s ears.