Chapter 338
Chapter 338
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 338
Chapter Title: Immortal and Mortal (7)
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Fernandez thought the pain surging through his legs was a hallucination. The agony started at his toes and raced up his body in an instant. A corner of his mind rang noisily as his vision began to warp.
Was he dying? Amid the excruciating torment, Fernandez grimaced and flexed his fingers one by one, opening and closing them.
* * *
[Neural connection complete. The soul body is beginning fixation to the flesh!]
[Not a single inch of error can be tolerated. Any issue that arises now could become a fatal hindrance later!]
* * *
It was a pitch-black void, yet moving his body presented no problems. A sticky pain clung to his entire form, tormenting him relentlessly, but he still observed his condition with cool detachment.
There were no precursors to mental collapse. Only the sudden onslaught of sensations. The pain felt familiar to Fernandez.
At some point, not too long ago, he seemed to recall experiencing this exact kind. It was a sensation he knew well. He slowly dredged up the memory most similar to this current agony.
It was akin to phantom limb pain. The torment of thousands of ants gnawing at his nerves. Pain originating from severed limbs that shouldn't even exist right after bodily loss. The closest match was...
'The king's audience chamber with Dane.'
In Altbert's underground crypt, when he had been forcibly transferred by the conclave. The spatial translocation side effect that tore his body to shreds and pieced it back together—that process matched this one most closely. The kind of pain where bodily functions slowly revived, and the flesh reestablished itself.
'Reestablishing the body?'
It had happened under the blessing of immortality. His soul had been so powerfully bound to his flesh then, and the Beitasser stigmata lingering in his body ceaselessly reshaped it into the form most akin to his soul.
Even if the body was lost, the stigmata would activate to rebind soul and flesh. Considering that mechanism, if he hypothesized this situation with some speculation...
'My body is being reestablished?'
Did that mean someone had recovered his soul and was assembling flesh around it? It was just pain, with no other clues. He couldn't cling to such bold conjecture for faint hope.
Yet he couldn't dismiss it outright either. In this barren wandering, wasn't this the sole clue offered? Amid the vicious pain scrambling his thoughts, Fernandez reasoned coldly.
Beitasser? No, the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods was sealed, and only exceedingly rare ancient relics like the key-sword could unseal it. No being possessing such an artifact would breach the pantheon's seal just to request his revival in the heavens.
'That would actually spell disaster.'
Dismantling the pantheon's seal from outside required a sacred relic of sword-god caliber. If the situation was so dire they sacrificed that to revive him, it meant his preparations, plans, everything had failed from the start.
Abandon that hypothesis. Then...?
'An external relic with a mechanism akin to the stigmata of immortality.'
The stigmata of immortality was Beitasser's most potent blessing. A power transcending a mere mortal's rights—and indeed, Fernandez had ceaselessly burned through his lifespan while bearing it.
A relic harboring that level of power. If such a thing existed, who wielded it, and why revive him?
'I might face combat the moment I awaken.'
Fernandez sharpened his gaze on the gradually brightening surroundings and steeled himself. Blankly surrendering his life to sudden upheaval wasn't his style.
Analyze the situation. Think clearly. That was the Wildcast foundation. He quietly regulated his breathing and braced for the imminent flood of information.
* * *
[The soul has bound perfectly! A flawless success!]
[As if you've revived once before, settling in so adeptly. Astonishing. You've all worked hard.]
[We offer our deepest gratitude, Great Sun of Ivaris!]
Ravirata gazed down at the Cradle of Creation with a trembling voice. Soon, he would open his eyes. In a body identical to his living one—no, superior in some ways.
They hadn't resurrected the dead. Strictly speaking, this was tantamount to creating a god in the material world.
The Cradle of Creation fixed the soul's form in the material realm and overlaid flesh upon it. Most prior attempts had failed partly because the soul couldn't endure the discrepancy between its remembered form and the actual body.
But this time, it was perfect. Fernandez's soul remembered his body more precisely than anyone's. The warrior who had pushed every corner of his flesh to its limits, combined with the mage's brain that anatomically comprehended its structure to perfection. One could call it their joint masterpiece.
Ravirata looked down at the body lying still in the coffin, eyes closed. The man remained serene, drawing faint breaths.
[Arise, Fernandez.]
Ravirata whispered lowly in a quavering voice. With that, Fernandez's eyes slid open.
* * *
-Thump, thump, thump.
A slow but heavy heartbeat. With eyes still shut, Fernandez focused on the sound resonating within him for a moment.
'Is this my heart?'
Before opening his eyes, he was assessing his condition. Tactile senses, hearing, smell—they pierced his mind sharply. To him, who had wandered bodiless for so long, the sudden influx was mere pain.
Enduring the agony, he sifted through the tangled information like unraveling a knotted thread, analyzing it. Astonishingly, Fernandez was adapting to the body with incredible speed.
[Arise, Fernandez.]
When that voice reached his ears amid the ringing tinnitus, he finally regained full control of his flesh. The information sharpened; sensations no longer registered as pain.
At the same instant, he intuitively realized that Ivaris's spectral dynasty had revived him. Fixing a soul to flesh wouldn't be impossible with the full mobilization of Upper Asit necromantic arts, and Ravirata had reason to help him, having received his grace before.
"Hah..."
His joints were stiff; even moving his jaw felt stiff. Fernandez exhaled a low sigh as he opened his eyes. At the same time—
-Clang!
The wraiths arrayed around him drew weapons in unison, aiming at him. As Ravirata moved to approach, the specters cried out threateningly.
[eternal leader of Ivaris, this one has just awakened from the Cradle of Creation! We must verify his mind harbors no malice!]
The Cradle of Creation was a relic that, in Upper Asit's long history, had never successfully activated more than five times. All who revived through it succumbed to madness, attacking everything around them. This one might be no different. The wraiths hastily shielded their queen and warily eyed Fernandez.
Rusty spears and gleaming blades menacingly swung toward his head. Lacking intent to kill, they would likely halt just before striking.
-Clang!
But on instinct, Fernandez whipped his arm up and seized the nearest blade. He twisted the tip cleverly, yanked it, and wrenched the hilt away.
In a flash, Fernandez gripped the guard's sword and bashed the encroaching spear shaft. Metal scraped metal in a flash of sparks; the guards recoiled in unison.
After the brief clash, Fernandez knelt on one knee inside the Cradle of Creation, warily scanning his surroundings as he spoke.
"My condition is near optimal. How much time has passed since my death?"
[Half a year, Fernandez.]
"Half a year...? I thought at least three centuries."
Wraiths lived in suspended time. He couldn't judge no time had passed just because the Ravirata before him matched his last memory.
Moreover, he had drifted in the void. In a place devoid of time or space, with only hallucinations for company. That horrific, interminable span had been torture. Yet only half a year...?
"I want to hear the situation."
[You've only just revived. We must examine your state—lie back for now.]
Though Ravirata urgently tried to stop him, Fernandez was already rising. He methodically loosened his body from fingertip to limb, speaking calmly.
"The examination is done. Bring my gear."
[Leaving already?]
"I have unfinished business."
His last memory was Karadskar's death and Yekaset's frenzy. Too little time had passed to assume his plans had progressed meaningfully since.
He who started the task must end it himself. Fernandez rolled his shoulders with a crackle and stood.
[...I'll fetch your vestments first. Come to the Sun Plaza once prepared.]
* * *
Fernandez adjusted his ornate robes laden with baubles as he walked a dim corridor. Spectral priests advanced ahead, eyeing him with half-awe, half-vigilance.
[Savior, are you truly free of anomalies in body and soul...?]
"Would any madman confess it straight if there were?"
[True enough. Still, take care. In Ivaris's history, the Cradle of Creation's grand rite has never succeeded.]
A specter priest in splendid regalia bowed his head. Fernandez ignored him, introspecting his body's state.
No mana circuits. But unlike before death—where divinity prevented mana coalescence—this meant no circuits existed at all.
A positive development. Mana circuits weren't natural organs. They were artificial implants forged by a mage's lifelong toil.
It didn't mean divinity blocked mana flow. Not a shred of divinity remained in this flesh. Which meant he could embed mana circuits at will.
'Good. A year should suffice.'
Uncertain if that much time was granted, but in a year, he could recover more than half his former mana. The first step was always hardest; generating circuits was mere restoration for him, a simple task.
-Crunck.
He snapped off a bauble from his robe and clenched his fist. The intricate bronze crumpled into a sphere instantly. He retained his Religiosa Demonica-era strength. Without a speck of divinity.
Stroking his chin, he pondered. The body's composition and sensations were purely human. Magecraft-wise and anatomically, it was human flesh.
Yet Religiosa Demonica bodies were completed through baptismal rites infusing divinity. How did this skipped-process body maintain Demonica performance?
Lost in thought, Fernandez rolled the bronze sphere in his palm. How much time passed? The lead priest halted.
A massive stone door loomed before them. The priest placed a hand on it, paused, then turned to him.
[Savior. Ivaris's great stonemasons built this solely for you over the past half-year.]
Stonemasons...? Fernandez frowned at the ominous word.
"What nonsense is this about stonemasons...?"
[Please honor their labors...]
Without proper answer, the priest manipulated the door's seam. With a rumble and puff of dust, it slid aside. Sunlight soon flooded the corridor.
Fernandez shaded his eyes and peered ahead. The sudden glare delayed adaptation. But soon, his arm fell limply.
[Ah, our savior has arrived!!]
Far off, atop the altar piled at the plaza's end, Ravirata in resplendent regalia spread her arms wide and cried.
[Behold, your first moment walking beneath the firmament, reborn! What are your thoughts?]
At Ravirata's words, Fernandez stared blankly at the Sun Plaza. A colossal stone structure... Likely a statue, dominating the plaza's center.
Ivaris City brimmed with statues. A statue in a plaza wasn't remarkable. But one so vast it reached Ravirata's palace? That changed things.
Its sheer immensity meant he first perceived only its base. As his gaze climbed slowly, his face grew rigidly taut.
A giant statue stood with ornate key-sword plunged point-down into the earth, head proudly skyward.
Demonica sight observed distant details precisely. For the first time, Fernandez cursed that fact. Looming above his head was a statue depicting his face exactly, smiling serenely and benevolently.
He swore he'd never worn that expression in life. Logically, then... perhaps it wasn't his face...?
As his hesitant thoughts reached there, Ravirata gazed at him and burst into ringing laughter.
[Doesn't it resemble you to the nail? This is Ivaris's millennia-honed stonecraft!]
If Feizashi Wildcast were here, he might've tried killing her on the spot. Fernandez muttered, forcing himself to ignore the sight.
[Hm? What was that?]
"Kill me."
On his first day revived, Fernandez seriously contemplated suicide.