The Fifteenth Study - The Age of Rebirth (1)

"You damn fraud!"

"What fraud have I committed?"

"This bastard, right to the end!"

The paladin whose spoils had been seized grabbed the mage by the collar. Yet Tellorian simply wore a sly expression.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You said you divided Balor's equipment! I left thinking you would naturally destroy it, but these people──!"

Riankal's appearance after several years had changed considerably. From a princely, flower-like handsome youth to a man who had faced the storms of time head-on...

Still annoyingly handsome, though.

...he had become a dignified, statuesque man. Unlike before, he now carried a strong masculine charm as well.

"Why destroy hard-earned spoils?"

"Hellish power always carries the risk of corruption."

Riankal warned with grave sincerity.

"A paladin like me, who has undergone rigorous discipline, may be fine. But mortals with fragile minds like you cannot endure it...."

The most striking change was the fact that he now emanated holy power. Previously he had relied on the holy sword to wield it, but now, however faintly, divine energy could be felt coming from Riankal himself. It seemed his atonement activities had reformed his wicked nature.

"They can manage the risk of corruption themselves."

"You know how fragile the human mind is, don't you?"

"There are times when it proves stronger than an immortal's."

The holy sword hummed.

Vwoong.

Vwoong.

"The old man says you are arrogant."

"Atheists are always arrogant."

"He says you will make a great mistake one day."

There would be no such case. He had already foreseen every future branch where a mistake might occur and prepared sufficient countermeasures. Therefore, even if an unforeseen variable arose, its ripple effect would be minimized.

"Anyway, what brings you here?"

"Must there be a specific reason?"

"You wouldn't have come just to visit."

He filled the Horn of Plenty with cool ice water and handed it over. Riankal, who had traveled a long road through midsummer heat, drank it down in hearty gulps.

"Refreshing!"

Clack.

He set the cup down.

"I did come to play, actually."

"A paladin, here to play?"

"Then must a paladin never rest and train every waking hour? How could any human endure such a mechanical, tedious life?"

Hmm.

"A quack paladin, I see."

"Ha! Then you must be a quack mage! Instead of conducting your research, you're reeking of alcohol from morning onward!"

...He had considered generously sharing the spoils, but canceled the thought. After four years without a single day off, he was finally taking a week of rest!

"Speaking of which... while passing through the royal capital I met some commoners. They all praised both you and your succubus disciple. I will at least acknowledge your competence."

He gave a small snort.

"Succubus? That's all?"

"...Huh?"

"If Belladia were some half-baked villain on the level of a succubus, I would never have accepted her as my disciple."

Belladia was an extreme evil who would rise to greatness even if cast into the world of demons. Compared to a mere mid-tier demon like a succubus, she would be the one feeling insulted.

"...Hmm."

At that moment, Riankal's voice grew heavier.

"Since the subject has arisen, let me ask..."

"Whether I can control Belladia?"

"...."

"I have no intention of controlling Belladia."

"Innocent people will die."

"Since when have you cared about people?"

"True... I suppose I have no right to speak on the matter."

The silver snake, dressed in a chef's outfit, brought forth a lavish feast. The lamb marinated in olive oil glistened with savory juices, the risen wheat bread was as soft as desert sand, and the honey tea that sweetly tickled the nose was a particular delight.

"This is not a banquet."

The silver snake spoke with a serious, solemn expression.

"It is amazdis, served before the true banquet."

Having fully exercised his culinary skill for the first time in a while, the silver snake was in high spirits. He praised Karamsan's greatness and condemned the regression of medieval lands.

"It has already been half a millennium since Karamsan was buried beneath the desert sands. Yet human civilization today does not even reach the toes of that era. Truly lamentable."

Unlike Karamsan's cuisine, which prized diverse and profound flavors, the central region's dishes were simplistic. Even the royal chefs focused on quantity rather than quality.

"Hmm."

However, Tellorian cut in.

"I agree that the central region's level of civilization is abysmal... but no matter how inferior medieval lands may be, they are not beyond comparison with ancient lands."

At this, the silver snake's eyes widened.

"Then how do you explain the disparity in cuisine?"

"It is proof that Karamsan's economic inequality was far more extreme than it is today. The god-kings of Karamsan could seize their subjects' property at will. That is why such luxurious cuisine developed."

The silver snake frowned.

"The spellcaster speaks nonsense!"

"Calm yourself and listen. Karamsan was a slave society sustained by forced labor. In contrast, the feudal society of the central region possesses a far more equitable economic structure. My claim has been verified in the following academic papers..."

At this the silver snake confiscated the banquet and returned with cold stone bread and watery honey porridge.

"Then enjoy the cuisine of medieval lands!"

"I never said it lacked flavor..."

"No! How could the noble Tower Master enjoy the fruits of slave exploitation? You shall dine on fare befitting progressive serfs!"

Riankal, now deprived of the feast, wore a sharp expression.

"Because of you I'm stuck eating stone bread!"

"As expected, immortals are incapable of logical conversation..."

The men were driven from the mansion and headed into the streets. The royal capital's avenues were thriving. Security was so excellent there was not a single pickpocket, and administrators strictly observed rationally drafted laws. People naturally gathered.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"At this level, shouldn't we overlook Belladia's misdeeds? Everyone seems satisfied."

Belladia's iron rule had brought stability to the kingdom, and stability had summoned prosperity. Royal decrees were executed fairly, and the queen's unbroken string of victories was making the nation powerful and wealthy.

"Even so, is this truly right?"

"I never thought I'd hear you speak of righteousness."

"...."

The holy sword whispered sacred fury to Riankal. Yet Riankal rejected its suggestion.

"That's impossible, old man."

"...."

"I said no. It's physically impossible."

Riankal argued with the holy sword for some time.

"Does the Holy King command you to kill Belladia?"

"Yes."

"Why did you not obey the Holy King?"

"Because I lack the qualification to judge others."

Riankal was squarely confronting the weight of sin. Compared to the atrocities he himself had committed in his quest to become a great demon, Belladia's deeds were almost endearing.

"Above all, I seek only revenge."

"How refreshingly clean-cut."

"Whether atonement or the realization of justice, both are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠merely tools for revenge."

At this the holy sword rebuked Riankal. It delivered a sermon that closing one's eyes to evil was equivalent to choosing to become evil oneself.

"Then why don't you try persuading the Grey Sage yourself, old man?"

With that, Riankal shook his head, handed the holy sword to Tellorian, and Tellorian set the sword upon the terrace of a second-floor café before beginning their conversation.

"It has been a long time, young mage."

"It has been a long time, Forgotten Holy King."

"Today I must speak of uncomfortable matters."

A translucent elder appeared across the table. The Forgotten Holy King was a robust warrior whose age seemed irrelevant; his bulldog jaw suggested an iron will, and an even more stubborn faith that outlasted that will.

"I hear the Queen of Massacre is your disciple."

"She is."

"Did you order the massacres?"

"Which massacres do you mean?"

"...."

"The queen has committed more than one or two massacres, hasn't she?"

The old man fell silent for a moment. There was nothing left to add.

"...I refer to the massacres that occurred inside the kingdom."

"Then you mean the massacre of the peasants who followed the demon worshippers' incitement. Correct?"

The old man nodded.

"I did not present massacre as the solution."

"Then?"

"Instead, I advised suppressing the rebellion by the swiftest possible method. Belladia accordingly halted the revolt through a rapid massacre. That is all."

Silence stretched between them.

Longer and heavier than before.

"You."

After a lengthy pause, the old man spoke.

"Have you no conscience at all?"

"Did Your Holiness feel no pangs of conscience while massacring the black mages?"

The Holy King frowned.

"These are not the same."

"They look the same to me."

"I killed only those who had directly used black magic. Yet your disciple burned an entire village where demon worshippers had appeared."

Tellorian disliked the direction the conversation was taking. Moral debates always devolved into nothing but lengthy quarrels.

"I see no difference."

"Why?"

"We each simply did what we wanted to do."

...

"I performed actions I believed necessary to prevent the world's destruction. You performed actions you believed righteous. Where is the hierarchy in that? There are only individual choices."

...

"You do not believe in justice."

"Justice is always relative."

"Justice is always universal."

"That may be true from a paladin's perspective."

"...."

"The essence of this debate is simple, Holy King."

He calmed his heated voice. It was time to end the tedious argument.

"I believe that if the result is good, the process does not matter. You, on the other hand, believe the process must also be good to be acceptable."

Tap. Tap.

He rapped the table.

"Who is the righteous one? Until now, it has been you. But who has produced effective results? Until now, it has been me."

The righteous do not act after inferring causal relationships. They simply follow the voice of conscience to illuminate a dark world.

Therefore, it did not suit him.

"But the future remains unknown."

"...."

"You may fall during your final journey. I may fail at a critical moment. So let us table moral judgment and focus on walking this path together until the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠end."

He rose from his seat. There was nothing more to convey.

"...Your method"

"?"

"is merely a way to postpone fundamental solutions. If you tolerate evil while focusing on the approaching apocalypse, the villains you have nurtured will eventually summon another apocalypse."

He was correct. His disciples would not always follow his control. One day they might bring about another end.

But.

Even if that happened.

"It still buys time, does it not?"

"In the long term the difference──"

"In the long term, we die."

He placed a pipe between his lips.

"Humans will go extinct. Gods will be forgotten. Even the universe will one day return to dust. That is providence."

Clergymen are beings who pursue eternity. Therefore they cannot properly understand the meaning of living faithfully in the present.

"I neither know nor intend to research any plan that would permanently prevent destruction. I simply do not wish to witness destruction while I am alive. That is the driving force behind my struggle."

Eternity.

It is an empty word.

At least to those who pursue truth.

"Riankal. Take your sword."

"Did something unpleasant occur?"

"It always does when meeting religious folk."

A mage who explores the finite world.

A clergyman who yearns for the infinite world.

Their opposition might be inevitable.

"Are you the Grey Sage?"

"?"

As he left the café, someone who had been waiting approached. A young woman in revealing attire, half-naked. A woman of the streets.

"I am."

Yet her aura differed from ordinary street women. Her eyes were clear and her bearing confident.

"I came on behalf of the red-light district to express our gratitude to the Sage."

She bowed deeply.

"I appreciate the gratitude. But for what reason?"

"From this year onward, people of the red-light district have gained the privilege of paying taxes to Her Majesty the Queen. We have finally come under the protection of the law."

The legitimization of the red-light district was not a policy the rigid Protector Duke or the morally strict Urban would have pursued. It had to be Belladia's. She had approached the matter purely from a fiscal perspective.

"It is a truly unique policy compared to those of previous kings. Could the foundation of such a policy lie in the teachings of the Grey Sage?"

The other party offered a friendly smile, but the Grey Sage maintained an impassive expression. They had their own circumstances, but... the kingdom's people already held sufficiently controversial views of him. There was no need to add fuel to the debate.

"So what is your business?"

"Just as we have paid taxes to His Majesty, we wish to present a gift to the Sage as well."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

He could have politely refused and taken his leave. The gift would likely be inappropriate to accept.

"?"

However, the other party shattered his expectations.

"How did you obtain this?"

The gift from the red-light district was an ancient scripture.

One depicting a silver snake traversing the night sky.