Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: While Absent (4)
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"No way...! When I was searching so desperately, it was definitely..."
"See? I told you it would appear right away."
A massive structure stood alone in the barren desert, as if it were a mirage.
If I had to compare its shape, it was closer to the grotesque form of the Ni statues on Shimotrake—whose final two wings were broken—than the Cheomseongdae I had seen in Gyeongju in the past.
As we drew closer, its sheer size became all too real. We now had to climb this bizarre rock formation tens of meters tall with our own hands.
"Chairman."
I poked Lehel. Last time, without a mage, we had climbed the cliff until we nearly died, but now we had an excellent shuttle who could use float magic.
However, Lehel stared blankly up at the Sandalphonia Observatory even after I called her, her goggles removed. She was completely entranced.
"Hey."
"Y-Yes, hett!?"
"Let's go up. Cast the spell."
"Ah, right! Just a moment. I'll leave the luggage here..."
"No need. Bring it all up. It's not like we can use it for anything else anyway."
I deactivated [Magic End].
Soon after, our bodies floated lightly thanks to Lehel's spell.
Like the slow initial ascent of a roller coaster, the top of the observatory drew steadily closer.
Gulp.
Lehel swallowed hard, glancing at me repeatedly. She clearly had a ton of questions she wanted to ask.
And shortly after—
Thud! With that sound, we landed back under gravity's embrace atop the observatory. It was a massive stone pillar, uneven but mostly flat.
On the opposite side, a huge door blocked the entrance to a cave leading into a cavern.
"Let's go in. Follow me."
I walked forward and shoved the rusted iron door open with both hands. Then—
"You've come, stranger from beyond the borders."
"You've arrived, mortal swallowed by the clouds of calamity."
What awaited inside was a large round stone table. Surrounding a stone engraved with the celestial chart of Primum Mobile—one of the Triune Originals—sat three women, their hands and feet bound in chains.
The same facial features, yet subtly different appearances.
One had her eyes covered, another was missing an ear, and the last one's mouth hung slack.
The Moirae Sisters.
Astrologers and prophets who had divined fate and the future since ancient times.
Honestly, I absolutely hated that useless crap like future prophecies. Because it felt like someone else's whims were puppeteering my hands and feet.
From my perspective—dragged willy-nilly into this world and forced to fight the Demon King—I had no reason to welcome notions like "the will of the gods" or "predestined fate."
"How've you been? Brought you some gifts. Chairman, empty out that backpack."
"Huh? Everything?"
"Not like we're returning it for a refund, right? Here, take one by one. This is jerky, that's ice cream. It's a bit melted."
However, these sisters were slightly different from your typical con artist prophets or cult leaders. They didn't spout random prophecies; they answered only direct questions precisely.
From the start, if I decided to smash them, any half-baked prophecy wouldn't hold up anyway, so it was a wise choice.
"Delicious, stranger..."
"Sweet, mortal..."
Seeing the three sisters huddled around the sacred-looking stone table munching on snacks, Lehel gave me a look of utter disbelief.
"Those are really the prophets?"
"Yes."
"Hah, unbelievable... Wait, then what the hell do they even eat to survive here?"
"Probably don't need food? Looks like they're under a magical seal."
Not even Whitelett, who told me about this place, knew exactly what they were. They seemed like some kind of undead... but since dragons exist in this world, I just shrugged it off.
Crunch crunch. Crunch crunch.
After waiting for them to finish eating, brushing off the cookie crumbs and trash from the stone slab, the three sisters turned to us.
"What brings you here, stranger."
"What purpose brings you, mortal..."
"If you're all gonna say the same thing, can't you just say it once? It's annoying."
"Got it."
"Fine."
Tsk. I clicked my tongue and showed them the paper I'd taken from Mareil: the grotesque Demon God statue and the Iron Hound's note.
"Recite everything about this, no omissions."
They held the paper under the light descending from the ceiling, tilting it this way and that, humming thoughtfully. Then they began spilling info on the Demon God statue.
What the hell? It was a bit hard to parse, but one thing was clear.
"So the bastards who made this all need to get fucked up, right?"
"Yes."
"Where are those bastards now?"
Snap!
The three women pointed in perfect unison to a spot on the stone slab, on the Primum Mobile chart.
The seven fixed stars in the celestial sphere that never move: Dubhe, Merak, Phecda, Megrez, Alioth, Mizar, and Alkaid.
Among them, the third star, glowing the faintest.
"""Follow Baldr's Nightmare."""
Phecda.
"Thanks. See you next time~."
As Louis waved, the Moirae Sisters waved back.
Perhaps offering parting blessings, they pointed at Louis and uttered one line each.
"Stranger."
"Mortal."
"Yeah?"
Louis responded to them in his usual playful, friendly manner.
"You will take up the sword once more."
"Good thing. I've been looking for something decent lately."
"A chance for respite will be granted to you."
"Thanks to you telling me to go to Pharenchia, I've been living well lately. Continuing like this... living comfortably isn't bad at all."
However.
"What?"
The moment he heard the final line, his expression hardened rapidly. Finally, from his open mouth came a short, chilling reply that even Lehel found eerie.
"That's scary."
Louis turned and left the cave.
"......"
Left alone, Lehel stood to follow him.
The Sandalphonia Observatory, one of the Four Great Hidden Sights, and the Moirae Sisters who divined fate. They were certainly not beings one could meet easily.
Any mage would want to dissect such mysteries piece by piece, but Lehel had zero interest.
Having lived for centuries, she had long since grown numb to the world's unknown wonders.
"Oh, right."
But a childhood memory surfaced, halting her steps.
A trivial recollection? Or a hardship. In the past, like any mage, Lehel had wandered the continent endlessly to awaken her unique magic path.
She had consumed rare elixirs, sought teachings from renowned scholars, and even visited the hellish demon realm.
The reason she hadn't wanted to follow Louis was, naturally, because she had once scoured the Sandalphonia Gorge for these sisters herself.
Amid blistering heat and a dried-up canteen, in excruciating pain where one more step would mean death, Lehel had cried out endlessly.
Begging the endless darkness imprisoning her to reveal the path of magic.
And the imperial legacy she now entered so easily had refused to appear back then. The reason she spoke up was a petty resentment.
"Impressive. If you were going to show up this easily, why act so precious all this time and hide from people?"
Not just Lehel—others had been the same. Whitelett the White Knight had roamed the desert heart for a full forty-seven days.
It was during the Great War's darkest hour, when the Ravière Defense Line was breached and the capital burned.
What kept him going through those days, shedding bloody tears as hundreds died daily? Not rebellion, surely.
The frail human palm reaching for a faint thread of fate had been torn to shreds.
"Do you regret it? Not entering this place in the past?"
"Hah, regret? I don't do that. I'm just curious."
In the end, Lehel had awakened her unique magic path without their help. And the emotion of regret had long festered so sweetly in her heart.
The Moirae Sisters, gazing at Lehel's sharp tone, pointed toward the direction Louis had gone.
"""He already possesses every qualification to receive fate's aid."""
Without the slightest hesitation, boldly.
"The unfortunate stranger had his entire destined world stolen wholesale."
The reason Louis could come here without interference.
"The irreverent mortal lost even the right to stop his heart amid eternal torment."
His karma, and what he sought to achieve by bearing it.
Because it dwarfed your wishes by comparison.
Without Louis, the canteen saw far fewer customers than he had anticipated.
No—precisely, most who came took one look and turned away.
Humans instinctively sense from eerie forests or dilapidated buildings the chill of emptiness, knowing no one lives there. That's the "no presence" feeling.
Students peeking near the lit-up canteen felt the skin-crawling chill and saw the deathly quiet interior from afar, judging it empty and leaving.
Assuming the lazy boss was slacking off as usual.
"......"
"......"
Yet inside the canteen, two employees sat side by side.
The two had maintained silence for a full five hours without exchanging a word.
Grrr... rrr.
The fierce Iron Hounds, who could shred mid-level beasts in the Ravière Mountains with their sharp teeth, couldn't even whine for food despite being starved.
As sunset approached closing time, Liv asked Adella—who hadn't questioned her about anything all day—in a cold tone.
"Not working?"
Referring to the cafe cleanup and inventory left by Louis.
Adella, who had floundered cluelessly when he was around, stood calmly and replied.
"I already did."
A sharp tone implying "Why do you care?" Adella's emotionless eyes fixed on Liv's stomach.
"That's how you seduce the boss? Like it?"
"What?"
"Acting all prim and proper, but you're just a pervert, aren't you?"
Flames ignited in Liv's eyes. A faint vibration stirred the canteen. Her staff was already in hand. The clinking of glass bottles filled the air.
"The truly vulgar one is you."
"Huh?"
"Your posture, your mindset—nothing noble about it. Can't even stand properly without the boss around?"
A contemptuous smile curled Liv's lips. Just like the Twelve Leagues, when her father Paris fought with his life on the line, not a single Roshiar soldier appeared—not even the Snow Duke.
"Makes sense. With northern noble houses all like you, the Ravière Mountains got breached twice."
"What...?"
An utterly insulting remark degrading the entire family. Even if she didn't like her sister, Adella—who had nothing left to give Louis but a place as Roshiar's son-in-law—couldn't let it slide.
Grind. Frost began to form. Her heart chilled as an immense surge of pure white mana flowed through Adella's blue hair.
The unique magic path that no method had awakened until now.
Tiny ice crystals formed in Adella's hand—empty of any staff—and quickly took on a long, sharp form.
Adella Sylvestra de Roshiar
Minor Blizzard (小雪雪亂)
"Roshiar... a joke?"