Hudson's True Form
There was no way for him to escape this place.
The knights of Darkan Territory had sealed off the banquet hall. The martial power of each one of them already surpassed his own.
I must never let this connect back to Lord Randolph.
Even if he died here, he could not allow himself to be linked to Randolph.
He had received grace from Randolph so profound that offering his life would still fall short. Had he not sworn, with all his heart, to follow and devote his absolute loyalty?
Causing harm through his own existence was something he could never allow.
Above all else—if only he could save Serengeti.
Reality means nothing to me.
To Hudson, the real world held no importance whatsoever.
If he could only save Serengeti, even his meaningless life would finally gain value.
As Oliver on Earth, Hudson had merely been surviving day after day, clinging to a hollow existence.
But life in Pangenia—how beautiful it had been.
He had found adventure, love, and comrades to stand beside. He had witnessed miracles unfold before his eyes time and again. He had breathed the same air as one who shattered the impossible and climbed ever higher.
That miraculous existence had reunited him with Serengeti, allowed them to speak face to face, and even healed the heart everyone else had abandoned.
A single ray of hope had pierced his dark life.
That alone was enough. Simply having tasted hope left him fulfilled.
—Hudson. When we return this time, we will be able to fully awaken Serengeti.
……I am sorry.
I can go no further, but may my lord ascend even higher.
Phantom, my hope.
My one and only light.
Please…… take care of Pangenia.
This land that made everything possible for a man exhausted by life in reality. This place that let me walk freely, run, and love.
The others treat Pangenia as nothing more than a game, a virtual space.
Even after becoming Players, it was the same. Though death here equaled death in reality, their roots remained on Earth. And so they never took it seriously.
That was why Hudson had settled alone, despite countless chances to mingle with other Players.
The difference between himself and the rest.
Their attitudes toward Pangenia were simply too different.
How many had treated this place as a mere game or virtual playground, rampaging, toying with it, and sowing destruction?
Associating with such people was impossible for Hudson.
But Randolph—what of him?
……For the first time, I felt I had met someone of my own kind.
Knight's Garden.
At the heart of Marquis Weiser's territory stood a memorial stone. Upon it were carved the names of the knights who had fallen during the Great Expedition.
And Randolph had spoken each name one by one as he swore his oath.
—As the successor to the Knight King, I pay my respects to their glorious deaths. For the eternal rest of these irreplaceable heroes, I shall bury them forever in my heart.
In that instant, Hudson saw Randolph as the Knight King Wilhelm himself.
Filled with sincerity, the words struck deep into the chest.
Ordinary Players would never have done such a thing. Even if they had, it would have been empty lip service.
But he had mourned the deaths of the people of Pangenia with his entire heart.
For the first time among Players, Hudson had met someone who truly valued Pangenia.
How overwhelming that moment had been.
He had experienced many other miracles afterward, yet for Hudson, only that single scene remained burned fiercely into his mind.
A memory he would never forget for all eternity.
Therefore, if Pangenia still held hope, that hope was Randolph alone.
Only he could save Pangenia.
—Picture it. Completely reuniting with Serengeti. If you hold the ceremony with her, I will officiate myself.
……
—Imagine Serengeti walking down the aisle with you in a wedding dress. Of course, it will not remain mere imagination. It will soon become reality.
……She would look beautiful.
Truly.
The moment he imagined the ceremony, Serengeti's image refused to leave his mind.
Why was Randolph suddenly saying such things to him?
To tell him not to abandon hope?
No. Worrying him any further was already a luxury. If he delayed any longer, the suspicion that he was connected to Randolph would only deepen.
Hudson thrust his hand as deep as he could into the hole-riddled oak barrel.
A chill seized him, and every muscle and bone in his body began to twist.
When he opened his eyes again—
…………What is this.
Hudson had become a woman.
……
I was briefly at a loss for words.
When told to picture oneself at a wedding, wouldn't most people first imagine themselves in formal attire?
Or even if they thought of the bride, wouldn't they picture her in a dress?
So why was Hudson wearing armor?
The Pure White Knight.
Just as the name suggested, Hudson had become Serengeti clad in pure white armor.
—The Pure White Knight, Serengeti.
Number One seemed to know her as well.
And if he knew Serengeti, he would naturally know she was a native of Pangenia—and that she could never be a Player.
—Hudson. The one he loves, is it?
That remark surprised me a little.
The Empire already understood the relationship between Serengeti and Hudson.
Even I had only learned that Hudson was Serengeti's partner near the very end of the Great Expedition.
And I had heard it directly from Serengeti herself, no less.
So there was a reason they were so certain Hudson was a "sinner."
The Empire had already possessed information on Hudson beforehand.
Then they must know about me as well—the one who loudly proclaimed himself Wilhelm's successor.
If they knew of Hudson and Serengeti's relationship, the odds were high they knew about me too.
I still didn't know how much they understood about the Five Emperors, but they had likely gathered a fair amount on Randolph, successor to Wilhelm.
Outwardly closed off, yet the Empire knows far more than it lets on.
It was not merely isolationist.
The Empire knew more than expected.
If I ever let my guard down, I would be devoured.
Soon after—
—Honestly, I am surprised. I truly believed Hudson was a "sinner."
Number One was genuinely astonished.
At last, a crack appeared in that ever-composed demeanor of his.
—Do you no longer think so?
—Hmm. A Player could never truly love a human of Pangenia. He is…… not a "sinner."
Number One nodded.
The Supreme Appearance Transformation Potion.
He had attempted to change his form with it, yet in a situation like this a Player would normally have pictured their original body on Earth.
Even now, Hudson had thought only of Serengeti—and Number One had recognized that sincerity.
Not falsehood or mockery, but Hudson's true heart.
—I won the bet.
—……Are you not curious? Why Hudson took that form, and why I now believe he is no sinner?
Well, of course it was because he used the Supreme Appearance Transformation Potion.
But Number One did not know that I already understood that fact.
I myself had only pieced it together by synthesizing every circumstance.
I let out a quiet sigh of relief inwardly.
If my deduction had been wrong, it would have been a true disaster.
The chance of escaping alive had been under two percent—and that was for me alone. The odds of fleeing together with Hudson had been practically zero.
Since things had turned out this way, I might as well keep playing the simple, brutish barbarian.
—He is no sinner.
—…………Yes. That means you saw correctly. "That" is an object that transforms one into the form of what they truly, sincerely hold most dear. When a "sinner" touches that powder, they invariably reveal their form as a sinner. Unless they value another more than themselves, they cannot become someone else entirely.
Hudson had placed Serengeti above his own body.
It was only natural that such a man would become Serengeti.
—But how long must I stay like this?
Hudson was still flustered. He looked over his own body and his face turned pale.
Number One shrugged.
—Who knows. It depends on how long you kept your hand submerged. Still, it is not a complete transformation, so it will wear off with time.
—That is a relief.
—In any case, I lost this bet. I shall hand over the three auction items you desire. Later.
—……Later?
—I never said I would give them immediately, did I?
What a sly bastard.
I openly scowled at him. He shook his head.
—Of course, I do not mean for you to wait indefinitely. I am not so unprincipled as that. If you accompany me to the "Main Temple," I shall give them to you at once there.
—Main Temple? You mean the Main Temple of the Death God Religion?
—Is that not why you came here in the first place? Every "Guardian of the Golden Orthodox" must attend the "Banquet" that will soon take place.
Sashin's Banquet.
I seemed to have heard of it in passing—from the Silver Fox Mask of the Abyss Labyrinth.
She said there would be a banquet at the Death God Religion in eighty-seven days.
The problem was that I had no idea where the Death God Religion was located.
And Number One was offering to guide me there.
Beings like Hell exist there.
Number One had also called himself a Guardian of the Orthodox.
He had likely hidden them away in "his own domain," just as Hell did.
Hell, who could freely manipulate warps, could also conceal himself on the far side of space.
At any rate—
—Very well.
There was no reason to refuse.
I needed Baal's Armor to complete the set and control that thing.
I could hardly demand he hand it over right this second when he was offering it.
Time was tight, yet if I tried to force the schedule forward even a little, I risked losing everything.
The Death God Religion. The Death God Religion, huh.
Moreover, this was a chance to properly learn about the Death God Religion.
They were deeply entangled with the Empire—and stood even above the Empire's nobles.
Truly absolute powers that answered to no one!
In the past I tried infiltrating the Imperial Palace several times and failed miserably every attempt. This time I will succeed no matter what.
I had created characters again and again trying to penetrate the Empire.
I had succeeded only once, and even then I was discovered and killed before reaching the Imperial family.
An absurd difficulty.
I had judged infiltrating the Empire's core impossible and given up.
But through the Death God Religion, it should be entirely possible.
With Hell present, and even Number One regarding me as a "Guardian of the Orthodox"—
—Number 53. I am looking forward to him as well.
That made two of us.
Number 53—Master.
Had he noticed yet?
Standing before the oak barrel, Number 53 finally thrust his hand inside.
Whoooosh!
Master's form began to change.
—Oh-ho!
Seeing it, Number One let out a sound of admiration.
Once the primary "disinfection" ended, the auction continued without pause.
Having already acquired Baal's Armor without spending a single gold, all that remained was to sweep up every "high-value item."
With the 1.5 billion gold I possessed, I purchased goods worth roughly four billion.
The reason for buying so cost-effectively was simple.
Upgrade the Throne of Light.
At minimum, I wanted to confirm the "Radiant" mother form—or whatever lay beyond it.
The Radiant Throne of Light already possessed an "invincibility" effect on its own.
Once I entered the Death God Religion, the situation ahead would become completely unpredictable.
If the Orthodox possess abilities like Hell's, even fleeing will not be easy.
Opening a teleport book and trying to escape would be useless if they simply froze it.
In that case, I needed at least one item that guaranteed survival.
After receiving every auction item, I nodded as I looked at the mountain of goods piled before me.
Will you offer equipment corresponding to the ‘Ominous Throne of Light’ as a sacrifice?
Previously, when I had raised the "Radiant Throne of Light," I had used roughly two billion gold's worth of value.
Now, using everything before my eyes would double that value.
If my expectations were correct, I would be able to see what came after the "Radiant" throne.
Let's begin.
Imperial Palace
Wh-what am I supposed to do?
The young lady of the Dersian family.
Her face deathly pale, she trembled violently.
Hollow eyes from days without proper sleep, sunken cheeks, lips cracked dry.
If hell existed, this place was it.
More than twenty people have already vanished.
After the second day's "disinfection" ended, the auction had resumed.
Yet with each passing day the number of attendees dwindled.
An auction that began with one hundred participants had dwindled to only seventy-seven by the final stages.
The problem was that not only the invited guests but also "Imperial nobles" were among those disappearing.
An Imperial noble as a sinner? What utter nonsense was this?
It was planned from the start. Only those suspected of being sinners were invited to the auction!
The Dersian young lady chewed her nails.
But there were no nails left to chew.
Even as her skin split and blood stained the corners of her mouth, she remained unaware.
This auction had clearly been organized by the Death God Religion from the outset to gather only those presumed to be sinners.
But had the Death God Religion alone known this fact?
Could it be…… that even my own family…… thought of me as a sinner? That they sent me here for that reason?
—Isabella. As representative of the Dersian family, cooperate with the Lord of Darkan and bring the "Special Auction" to fruition. Show us your ability.
The words the family elders had spoken before her departure.
They had stressed the importance of the Special Auction and told her to demonstrate her capability, yet looking back, it was strange.
Why send her to an auction of such importance?
The Dersian family was currently mired in internal strife over the succession, a bloody free-for-all of schemes that the family itself permitted.
Yet the one who had sent her here was someone she had believed to be on her side.
Had he already been bought?
More than that—after sending her here, "that one" had been dispatched to Delphian.
He had been placed at the forefront of the Four Calamities subjugation with tremendous forces under his command.
Fully five berserkers.
While she had been given only a single escort.
……Are they trying to make that one a hero who subdued the Four Calamities, while I am branded a sinner and die here? Is that truly it?
Certainty settled over her.
It was not simply that the successors had been sent to different locations.
Though Darkan and Dersian had co-hosted the event, the Lord of Darkan had known in advance of the Death God Religion's appearance—and what they intended to do.
Whereas she?
She was a "co-host" in name only. She had known neither their scheduled visit nor that a "disinfection" would take place.
Disinfection.
The euphemism the Death God Religion used when hunting "sinners."
Once a disinfection began, even high-ranking nobles were powerless.
The entire city was sealed, and the disinfection did not stop until every sinner was found.
If prolonged, the city itself could die. In worse cases, it could sink into the Abyss.
That was why nobles feared their cities becoming targets of "disinfection."
The problem was that no one could know when, where, or how a "disinfection" would begin.
Even the nobles present here had been completely ignorant—that said everything.
I cannot be designated a sinner.
The Dersian young lady sat huddled in the corner of her room, fingers laced, trembling.
If designated a sinner and executed by a Death God, the Empire "erased" everything about that person.
Records—and in severe cases, even memories—were obliterated.
They were made into someone who had never existed from the beginning.
Cases of Imperial nobles being designated sinners were rare, yet not unheard of.
There had been an instance of a lord becoming a sinner, and the entire territory had vanished.
Thereafter, even mentioning "that family" within the Empire became taboo.
There was no law saying it could not happen to her.
She was no sinner, yet no one knew the criteria by which sinners were selected.
I have to live…… I have to get out alive.
But how?
Several people vanished every single day.
Nobles and outsiders alike.
Nowhere in this city was safe.
All warps had been suspended; escape was impossible.
She was terrified. Afraid. She could barely breathe, as if she would suffocate to death.
Th-that barbarian.
The savage warrior who had beaten her escort to death.
At first she had thought him a mere bodyguard, but with time she grew certain he was something else entirely.
Because he continually stayed at the side of Number One—a high-ranking officer of the Death God Religion.
The one who selects the sinners is Number One. And that barbarian is the same.
She flinched.
The moment the thought struck her, the Dersian young lady's expression hardened further.
If that "barbarian" stood in the same position as "Number One," then him designating her a "sinner" was as certain as water flowing downhill.
He would corner her like a rabbit hunt, flay her, and kill her horribly.
Designate her a sinner so that not even a record remained.
She would become a disgrace to the Dersian family and vanish like smoke.
I did apologize, though.
A fleeting sense of relief that she had apologized.
Yet that relief did not last long.
The incident at the restaurant, Afternoon of Darkan, where she had attacked first.
In the end they had gone all the way to the lord's castle to settle the dispute.
Yet the Lord of Darkan, whom she had been certain would take her side, had instead pressed her to apologize, and she had been forced to kneel.
At the time, her pride had been deeply wounded.
But looking back now—
Had he truly accepted that "forced apology" as genuine?
"Ah……"
The Dersian young lady's mind cleared in a flash. She shot to her feet.
Clatter!
Forcing her emaciated body upright, her legs gave out several times and she fell.
Behavior unbefitting a noble's dignity—yet this was no time to care about such things.