Overturning the Board
The man in the lion mask presented roughly twenty souls.
Each one, starting with the Saints, was a soul of considerable standing. Even so, he couldn't quite grasp what a score of one hundred ninety thousand actually meant in practical terms.
One thing was certain.
He's been preparing far longer than I have.
This was nothing like the previous banquet. These were souls they had hoarded and treasured over a long stretch of time — and now they were finally bringing them out in earnest. Unlike them, his own tenure as a guardian had been short; there had been nothing to prepare. The souls he had ready numbered exactly two.
Union, and the Cursed Soul.
Shrrrk!
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Every Orthodox who laid eyes on the souls the lion-masked Orthodox had produced fell silent. They drooled, their eyes gleaming brighter still, trembling with the urge to lunge at them that very instant.
The light of the crimson moon is affecting Hell as well.
Hell was no exception. He still didn't know precisely what that moonlight was, but it was clear the Great Moon had some connection to the Orthodox.
"Is there anyone else who believes they can surpass the Golden Lion's 'value'?"
The Golden Mask pressed the proceedings forward. The quality of the feast the lion-masked man had prepared was evidently high enough that no one raised a hand lightly. Challenge with something worthless, and all you'd earn was humiliation.
Then one of them did raise a hand, and the Golden Mask spoke with a note of surprise.
"Golden Monkey. The fact that you've stepped forward means you must be confident."
"Ah, well. The Golden Lion's banquet turned out to be rather more unimpressive than I expected."
A blatant provocation. At those words, the Golden Lion clenched his fist.
"Unimpressive?"
"Yes. Unimpressive. At the end of the day, they're nothing more than Saints and assorted rabble, aren't they?"
"…… Among the souls we are meant to hunt, is there anything of greater value than these?"
They hated the Players. They despised everything connected to the goddesses. There could be no soul more valuable than a Saint's.
The Golden Monkey sneered.
"You're trapped in your own prejudice, Golden Lion. Did we not call this a 'special banquet'? It need not have any connection to the 'sinners' at all. How dull-witted can you be?"
"Monkey. Do you truly wish to die?"
Everything around the lion-masked man began to rise, as though gravity itself had vanished. The situation teetered on the edge of violence.
"… Enough. This is a sacred ground watched over by the Will of the Great Moon. Fighting must never occur here."
"……"
Snap.
In that instant, the oppressive air settled. The mention of the Will of the Great Moon watching over them seemed to have struck home.
Watching this, the Golden Mask continued.
"The only thing we contend over is the 'value of souls.' The one of higher value is the victor; the one of lower value is the loser. Anyone who rejects this simple, clear rule has no place at this banquet."
"…… Fine. I'll watch. We'll see whether the Will of the Great Moon agrees with a monkey like you."
The lion-masked man gave a curt nod. There was no need to rise to the monkey's cheap bait. He could judge after seeing the value of the souls the other man produced.
There's no comparison.
The murderous intent he'd felt a moment ago had been bone-chilling. It was on an entirely different level from the silver-masked Transcendents he'd seen outside. Three Stars at minimum — perhaps higher. And yet their information still refused to appear, thoroughly veiled by Hidden Traits or something else entirely.
Designated as an 'Unobservable' target.
A message that had surfaced abruptly. Every last one of them had been designated Unobservable. He hadn't known before, but the upgrade to the Eye of Truth had revealed it. And if the message was accurate, someone had arranged for them to be unobservable.
The same function as the Phase of the Radiant Pureblood.
There were quite a few pieces of equipment and tools with an Unobservable option. But gear that rendered the wearer themselves Unobservable, or that designated specific individuals as unobservable — as far as he knew, there was only one.
The Phase of the Radiant Pureblood.
Perhaps the other Rings of the Absolute possessed similar functions. In which case—
Somewhere in this palace, there is a Ring of the Absolute.
That was the only reasonable conclusion. At least one Ring of the Absolute existed within these walls.
One of the guardians? Or someone else entirely?
Not the guardians. They distrust and feud with one another.
It wasn't any one of them. Someone who valued them had bound them all together under the designation. For instance—
The sleeping Emperor… or someone like him.
It wouldn't be strange for the sleeping Emperor to possess a Ring of the Absolute. Perhaps he had designated all eleven masters of the Orthodox as unobservable.
"The most special soul I have prepared belongs to the Black Emperor."
"You mean the Black King?"
The Black King of the South. He was a supreme powerhouse also known as the Black Emperor. If the monkey had captured his soul, no number of Saint souls could compare.
The lion mask asked in surprise, but the monkey mask shook his head.
"No. One of the Six Emperors who stood equal to the Six Horns of the old empire."
"The Six Emperors…? Those legendary figures of the old continent?"
"Indeed. Detailed records no longer remain, but you will understand once you see it. The value of the Black Emperor's soul."
Behind the monkey-masked man, more Death Gods rose into view. Some fifty souls. The one at the center, he claimed, was the Black Emperor's.
As every gaze fixed upon them, crimson light gathered and a score appeared.
…The number that appeared fell far short of the lion mask's.
Seeing the score, the monkey-masked man trembled from head to toe.
"Th-that's impossible…! Something must be wrong!"
The result had come in far lower than expected, and the monkey-masked man shouted in disbelief. But no amount of shouting would change the score. The guardians clicked their tongues.
"What a thorough disgrace."
"Mmm. Even the Will of the Great Moon must be disappointed."
The lion mask's laughter in particular rang through the chamber loud enough to shake the walls.
"Hahaha! You stupid monkey. All that confidence, and a mere hundred twenty thousand? If I were you, I'd be too ashamed to show my face."
"……"
"Black Emperor? What a waste of a name. Ah, or did you perhaps mistake a black earthworm for him?"
"……"
The situation had reversed. The lion was the victor; the monkey was the loser. And losers had nothing to say. He could only curse his own rotten eyes.
"…… Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge? This is a stage where all must present eventually. Though the Will of the Great Moon may look more favorably upon those who step forward first."
Let the courageous come forward. The lion-masked man spoke with swelling arrogance.
"Then why don't you go first? Golden Mask."
"A fair point. Very well."
The Golden Mask nodded. Setting the example himself was only proper.
Behind him, countless Death Gods rose into the air. Yet the souls he had prepared numbered exactly two — and they were so vast that the throng of Death Gods had to support them.
"…… What is that?"
"Souls can be that large?"
The guardians were equally stunned. None of them had ever seen souls of such size.
The Golden Mask spoke as though it were nothing of consequence.
"The souls of the twin giants said to have upheld the world in ages past."
"Surely not Celestial Bliss and the Abyss…?"
"Ah, Golden Lion. So you know of them as well."
"……!!"
Not only the Golden Lion — every guardian who recognized those names was deeply shaken. Celestial Bliss and the Abyss. Names that had appeared in the distant ancient age of myth. They had not truly upheld the world, but they had been twin giants of that magnitude — giants among giants. One body with two faces, and thus two souls as well.
"Hmm. Still, one never knows. The names are famous for their size, but they left no proper mythic deeds behind, did they?"
The lion-masked man tried to dismiss it.
But the score that appeared far surpassed the lion mask's.
"……!"
"Two hundred fifty thousand. Not bad."
The Golden Mask shrugged. The lion mask, by contrast, had gone completely rigid. The face behind the mask must have gone deathly pale.
And so the scores continued.
Most of them are in the hundred-thousand range.
Aside from a single guardian, none of them cleared two hundred thousand. The only one to record a score comparable to the Golden Lion's was one person alone.
The Fox Mask, who had come agonizingly close without surpassing it. The souls the Fox Mask had prepared were none other than a Cardinal of the Goddess Sect and a Saint. Yet even those had not been as extraordinary as the twin giants who had lived through the age of myth.
Even so, it was tremendous.
"Hoh. Has there ever been a banquet where a feast of this caliber was gathered?"
"If we can only devour it all, we could surge ahead in a single stroke."
Everyone marveled at the grade of the souls assembled in one place. At last, the evaluation of all eleven was complete.
"Now it is your turn, Golden Goat."
…And so his turn had come.
He let out a quiet inward sigh and stepped forward slowly. Standing beside the Golden Mask, he hesitated for a moment.
Hell cannot summon Death Gods.
Unlike the others, Hell could not summon Death Gods. At least, he never had. He could transform, yes — but the other guardians had all summoned Death Gods and displayed those Death Gods bearing the souls, so a measure of concern was only natural.
But having come this far, there was no backing down.
"Did you prepare something this time?"
"Who knows. Whatever you prepared, it won't amount to much."
"Hmm."
Unlike them, the time he'd had to prepare a "feast" had been vanishingly short. Perhaps for that reason, most of them looked at him with open contempt in their words and their eyes.
—Kyahahaha!
At the same time, Hell swung his scythe.
And then—
Crrrack!
His body swelled as Hell completed the transformation. The guardians who saw it could only tilt their heads.
"What is that grotesque form?"
"…… He didn't summon a Death God — he became a Death God himself?"
"He truly is a freak among freaks."
Not the form of an Orthodox, but of a Death God. An Orthodox transforming into a Death God! Hideous beyond measure. A true aberration.
Hell paid them no mind and produced a single soul, blackened and stained.
"Only one?"
"Mmm… Do you have no intention of winning?"
"Going last, you won't even get a chance."
Everyone else had produced at least two souls. Some guardians had even pulled out over a hundred in a sheer numbers assault. And he had only one. That meant he had no intention of winning at all.
…Watching their entirely predictable reactions, he spoke quietly.
"The soul I have prepared is that of the Cursed One."
"The Cursed One? Is that all?"
The Golden Mask asked. He nodded.
"That is all."
He truly knew nothing else about it. He didn't even know the name. Beyond "the soul of the Cursed One," there was no explanation to give. So he held no great expectations. It was the soul Ruin had used when casting the curse meant to corrupt Ainharthar — but whether it would prove more valuable than the souls the Golden Mask had displayed was impossible to know.
"The bare minimum required to participate in the banquet, is it…"
Even the Golden Mask looked uncertain. He seemed to genuinely believe the Golden Goat had prepared only the barest minimum simply to attend. Honestly, it wasn't wrong.
"Let us see, then. Golden Goat — whether you can create an upset as you did at the first banquet."
…Damn him.
From the very beginning, he meant to exclude me in front of everyone.
The Golden Mask had stacked the board against him from the start. At the first banquet, Hell had caused an upset that forcibly stripped everyone else of their chance. This time, it was his turn to be stripped of his.
"……"
He waited with his arms crossed, holding no particular expectations of his own.
Crimson light gathered and formed a number.
And the score that appeared was—
……?
The board… had been overturned.