Chapter 245
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 245
Chapter Title: Earth, Water, Fire, Light, and Steel (1)
Rust-colored moss clung to the iron fittings, filling the cramped chamber with a musty darkness.
Dust motes hung in the air, but a firm, resolute voice rang out.
"Daughters of the wilderness who have lost the light and wandered endless darkness, the covenant is sealed... From this moment, I, Aksha, the Priestess of the Precepts, shall fulfill the pact in the name of Atala..."
The stern-faced old woman touched the floor. A ritual circle emitted a sickly yellow glow, and the walls and ceiling trembled.
Rumble rumble rumble—!!
"Hngh, hnnngh..."
A pitiful groan followed. The source was a woman in her prime standing at the ritual's center. Even with half her face covered in cloth, her terror was plain as day.
But as the glow faded...
Hummmmm...
The woman's demeanor changed in an instant. As if by magic, she calmed and ceased her groans. Instead, she asked in a faintly dazed tone.
"...Ah, is it done?"
"Yes, Lady Clear-Eyed Oracle... Please, move about and see if anything feels off."
"..."
She took awkward steps around the room. After tentatively prodding her own body as if it were unfamiliar, she finally clutched her chest tightly and sobbed in a choked voice.
"Thank you so much... Truly, from the bottom of my heart... I don't know how to repay this grace... I don't even know how to express my gratitude..."
Thump. Her heart gave a tender beat, as if soothing the surging sobs. The original owner's mind had sunk into the unconscious depths, but her will lingered faintly, perceptible.
The old priestess watched with pity for a time. But soon, she added a stern warning.
"...Do not forget, Lady Oracle. That daughter of the wilderness did not fully surrender her body to you, nor lend it as a favor. Even you, the Clear-Eyed Oracle, cannot break a covenant sworn in Atala's name."
"Of course... Don't worry, Aksha. Even if the desert winds halt and the oceans' waves dry up, I will never defile this benefactor's body or Atala's sacred name."
"..."
The warning stemmed from the old woman's unfounded fears. This priestess was the sort who would keep her word no matter how the world urged her to break it...
Aksha, the Priestess of the Precepts, cleared her throat with a cough and asked.
"So... what will you do now? Will you go straight to meet the Great Warrior, Yevril?"
"...Pardon? Ah, yes. Right, Yevril... That's my name now..."
"Remember this. You must discard your old name. In accordance with the world's order, while you dwell in that body, act solely as 'Yevril,' not 'Cyril.'"
"..."
Cyril... no, Yevril nodded solemnly.
Two hundred years ago, Cyril, the Clear-Eyed Oracle who had built countless ruins and then vanished, had returned to the present world through a new Clear-Eyed Oracle as her medium.
Looking back, every step had been nothing short of miraculous.
The Great Warrior's return after countless ages, the restoration of her own divine powers because of it, her telepathic call reaching the Priestess of the Precepts despite being scattered aimlessly, preparing the grand ritual of soul-overlay within the sealed ruins together, and finally finding a suitable medium to borrow her body—it was all extraordinary.
But this was no mere coincidence. It was a miracle made possible by Cyril's divine insight, which pierced a thousand leagues to fulfill her will, and the covenant's promised reward.
The medium, Yevril, had been promised the following in exchange: knowledge of ancient sorceries, even greater divine powers, and the high ritual of 'Mind's Eye' to awaken inner sight.
For her, it was an offer impossible to refuse. By lending her body for just a few months, her stagnant sorcery would leap forward, and she'd escape the lifelong shackles of blindness. Helping this great ancestor without reward would have been honor enough.
Whether the one who proposed the covenant truly profited was another matter.
Multiple souls in one body defied the natural order. The soul-overlay ritual came with a stricture: she must never reveal herself. Even after centuries of longing, reuniting with the Great Warrior meant she could not disclose her identity as his old comrade.
Aksha, the covenant's mediator, couldn't shake her doubts. Why emerge in another's body when she couldn't ask why he'd left, vent her pent-up grudges, or share old times openly? Even for the exalted Clear-Eyed Oracle... she couldn't help suspecting some hidden agenda she hadn't grasped.
But it proved groundless soon enough.
"...No. First, before the Great Warrior, I need to find that man called General Goltaran and aid him. He's the benefactor of my benefactor. She said she threw herself into learning sorcery to repay the one who believed in her."
"..."
The Clear-Eyed Oracle still prioritized others' hearts over her own. Even borrowing this body wasn't for some selfish longing to see the Great Warrior.
"Aksha, a horrific 'Great Evil' will soon descend upon this continent again. Just as three hundred years ago, I must stand by the Great Warrior's side to confront it."
"Great Evil...? Y-You don't mean..."
"Yes, exactly. Soon, a 'Archdemon' will descend upon the earth... Hngh!"
Yevril suddenly clutched her head and collapsed. Aksha instantly knew the problem.
"Do not recklessly divulge heavenly secrets! The vessel has changed—you can't speak of fates so directly or abuse your divine powers like before!"
"Hic, hnnngh..."
'Divine insight' was, as its name implied, the power to commune with gods, glimpsing and manifesting heaven's will.
But easy gains through prayer alone clashed with Atala's divinity of 'struggle and wilderness.' Thus, most priestesses who gained such powers without great trials could only hint at secrets indirectly or perform minor miracles.
Cyril had been the rare exception. Her journey slaying the Archdemon and her unyielding will despite fatal flaws had earned her immense divine insight. But with a new body, even she was no longer exempt from the constraints.
"I'm sorry... for the unsightly display. From now on, like all of you... I'll be careful with my words."
"..."
Aksha couldn't hide her troubled expression.
To divulge such a great secret and recover so quickly... Her divine insight was still formidable. But was it enough to face the 'Archdemon' again? Absolutely not.
"Enough, Yevril. If you challenge the Great Evil's legions in that body, both you and the original owner will shatter finer than grains of sand."
"No, I can't... And I'll protect this benefactor's body however I can, so don't worry."
"And then what? Even if you overcome endless trials to defeat the Great Evil, you'll gain nothing. The Great Warrior will never know you exist; all merit and glory will go to the new Clear-Eyed Oracle. Why not emerge in your own preserved body?"
"..."
In place of an answer came a faint, bitter smile.
The old woman's weary eyes widened. It dawned on her that this priestess had built a hundred ruins, sent away all other priestesses, and only then, with body and soul utterly spent, sealed herself away.
"Could it be... you couldn't even preserve your body like us?"
"..."
"Why, why on earth...? Weren't you awaiting reunion with the Great Warrior? Why leave yourself without even the strength to preserve your form...?"
Aksha urged her to seek the Great Warrior's aid immediately. As always, no reply came—just that hazy smile, like moonlight on clouds.
After a long silence, a voice heavy with ages past flowed out.
"...Long ago, someone said that to me. A girl as pure and warm as a flame."
"..."
"She called me 'earth.' That no matter if rain pooled, drought came, or lightning struck, I'd remain in place. Even if laid waste like a desert, ignored by all, I'd silently keep giving. Yes... I think that girl saw truly."
Her cloth-covered gaze turned to the floor. Sightless eyes that saw not the ground, but its worth and toil.
"Travelers tread above, but earth says nothing. It simply silently bears their steps. If it demanded tending or clutched ankles like a swamp, no traveler could continue safely."
"..."
"But the moment the traveler completes his mission, reaches the journey's weary end... as he lays down deep in the earth, he'll finally realize."
"..."
"'Ah, you were here. You were always with me. I... was never alone.'"
Aksha felt her breath catch. Yevril lifted her mind's eye to the distant ceiling.
"I believe that's how it must be. He must complete his 'mission of struggle' taking only aid from beneath his feet, without ever looking back at me. It might be selfish presumption, ignoring his own wishes... but I believe it's right."
"...Is that truly enough for you?"
"Yes. If we can smile and meet again at the promised place someday... Even if he never knows I exist now, it's more than enough, Aksha."
The old priestess stared in speechless bewilderment.
The harsh laws of the barren wilderness decree that its priestesses are dust scattered by winds, soil buried nameless. Thus, deem all earthly achievements and bonds fleeting, and uphold only heaven's mission. Aksha, the Priestess of the Precepts, had strictly adhered to those laws through her years of seclusion.
But in this moment.
Facing the priestess who had saved the world and endured three centuries, yet received no reward...
For the first time, those laws felt... unjust.
*
A damp, shadowy floor rippled; darkness that denied all light shrouded the hideout.
A voice clear and cold as a shadow echoed.
"May you find shade even in the endless white night where the sun never sets. The nameless servant of darkness greets the High Pontiff."
The woman knelt, backlight haloing her. As the entrance sealed, her form sank into shadow, leaving only her eyes glowing faint yellow.
Before her lay a pit black as ink. Beyond it, a narrow passage. At its end sat a throne carved from shadow itself. And upon that throne...
A man in tattered, blackened robes sat.
"..."
"..."
He was of substantial build. Though his outline melted into darkness, his dignified aura made it plain. His imposing frame and still poise gave him the air not of a man, but a religious icon.
Long he waited without stirring. At last, the kneeling woman, Ilenia, reported what she'd come for.
"The Revelator and the fiends on the central front have settled their clash. The 9th Seat, 'Star that Calls Peace,' violated her restraints and met heaven's punishment, dissipating. And the 3rd Seat, 'Star that Pierces Truth'... has abandoned the Elga Church and defected to the allied forces."
"..."
"...Circumstances suggest the Revelator shared the truth of the 'Overwatching Eye' and convinced her."
The uproar this news wrought was immense.
Elga's stars, the Decagram, were fanatics of unshakeable faith. Forget convincing defection—mere hints of doubt about Elga meant instant beheading. Over a century of covert recruitment had claimed three figures' worth of the Forgotten God's followers.
Yet to sway a Decagram member—no, the 3rd Seat herself?
Even domesticating dragons or branding elves arsonists wouldn't have shocked more. Rumors spread like wildfire through the Forgotten God cult. In turn, the Revelator's devotees' zeal soared endlessly, while heretical factions that once deemed him calamity's source quietly shifted stances.
Especially for the man on that throne, the cult's High Pontiff—his reaction must be profound.
For he shared an ancient bond with the 'Revelator,' and...
"Incidentally, that Elga star seems named after Your Eminence's old title... They call her the 'Star that Turns from Light.'"
...he was the pioneer who had seen the truth first and turned from Elga.
"..."
"..."
Ilenia glanced cautiously. Beneath the heavy silence, the figure beyond the passage remained utterly still.
The High Pontiff was an enigma. At times kindly as a gentle elder, boisterous as a drunken rogue; at others, stricter than any inquisitor, or slyer than a demon. In a way, it befitted a true apostle of the 'God of Darkness and Chaos.'
Still, this was shocking news—she expected a clear reaction. But her assumption missed the mark. He sat like stone. Only belatedly did she notice his hands covering his eyes in prayer.
Time dragged on. Just as cramps set into the kneeling woman's legs, the hands finally lowered, and sealed lips parted.
And Ilenia heard tidings far more shocking than her own report.
"...We have found the culprit who defiled the Forgotten God's divinity and erased His divine name."
"...!!"
Her eyes shook wildly; his voice continued gravely.
"Decagram's 2nd Seat, 'Star that Devours Darkness.' He is the culprit."
The most devout apostate, 'Gordon Who Turned from the Light,' opened his eyes from the shadows.