Why Use a Sword? — 3

The Heavenly Demon gave his answer. He was a man dressed as a woman, his face caked in powder, and still that face was full of pride. This was not a person who lied.

A lie, surprisingly, is hard work. You have to grasp reality, foresee what comes next, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and only then build an imaginary event for the sake of the deceit. That is why a perfect lie is so difficult. Far easier to bury a painful reality exactly as it stands. Even so, it is amusing how many people, offered the choice between an apology and going under, choose to sink.

No. What matters is not that the Heavenly Demon's answer was no lie.

"Then why did you call ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me?"

He had lived rather well, for a Harvester, and then he died. This is a world ruled by strength, so unlike the others, he had broken through his troubles on strength alone. I had thought I would have no cause to return until someone else came falling to the surface.

So this is unlikely to be connected to Eunjae. Look around, and it is nothing like the Yasle art I know. I was called by an entirely different method. They may even have been aiming for me when they called.

Unlike that witch—do they have, this time, a technique that can actually summon me?

Heehee.

Then it is worth the effort. Well worth racking my head over.

I looked at the Heavenly Demon. He stared straight back at me. Then, slowly, he spoke.

"The Flesh-and-Bone Renewal and the Transmission of Force you granted the Martial God. Can you bestow such things on anyone?"

Flesh-and-Bone Renewal? Just after Eunjae became a Harvester, he looked down at his own body and said something of the sort. I caught hold of the faded man's memories and rummaged through them, and it turns out that sort of thing appears in a genre called murim. A new body, obtained. Transmission of Force is charging another person with qi. The faded man flies into a rage, insisting that is not what it means, but that is hardly my concern. In short, those two phrases mean Harvester.

"Yes. That's right. Last time, at the request of the one who called me, I gave a blessing to three people a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day."

I still don't know whether the wording of the contract can be used. And if I use it carelessly and it spreads too far, as it did last time, that would be a problem. This time I mean to increase the number while keeping it in hand.

So I spoke of what I had done in the last world as if it were simply my ability. In truth there is no limit on the number. I know, because I have read the contract aloud in a wide-open place and turned tens of thousands of people into Harvesters all at once.

But a limited thing, like a drawing of lots, matters. That is what makes desire, isn't it? And once desire grows large enough, I ought to be able to make a demand of my own. The method by which I was called into this world, I mean.

Heehee.

"I have only one thing to say."

I opened both hands in a gesture meant to show I intended no harm, and spoke the words of the contract.

Hearing me, the Heavenly Demon stared for a very long time.

"Is there a price?"

Oho. Yes. This is a transaction. Quick to catch on, isn't he? But I have no thought of taking Sacrifices on the side. Multiplying monsters I cannot control would only give me a headache.

"I've said all I have to say."

In the contract itself, I had already said I would take everything later. Of course I need nothing else, so all I have been taking is the warmth. Still, not knowing what may happen from here, I mean to keep the wording just as it is. There is also the unease that revising it on a whim might make something go wrong. A cleaner sentence might well come of the attempt, but I don't yet have enough to gamble with. Safely, then. Safely.

While I was thinking this, the Heavenly Demon turned. Behind him, where his gaze fell, a great many people stood. Their clothing was of every sort; by the look of it, the technique for calling me had come about without their knowing. Ordinary subordinates?

"Who will make a contract with this thing?"

He might have said this fellow. He says this thing. Well, I am not a person, so it is hardly a strange way to put it. So be it, then. The way I choose to behave is entirely up to you.

Then someone who had been standing at a considerable distance came running. Up close, it was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠plain. The clothing was different from that of the people around here, with more of ordinary life clinging to it.

The people in the place where I was summoned had scrubbed the very word individuality from their bodies. Black clothes, and hats with cloth drawn over the face.

"Only one Dharma Protector?"

At the Heavenly Demon's words, two more came bursting out from behind. It had the look of juniors scrambling over because a superior had called.

He looked down at the three of them, then pointed at me.

"Make the contract."

"As you command!"

They stood before me, full of anxiety and fear, and faintly I could see expectation as well. Expectation is a good sign. So I recited the contract gladly, and they agreed.

I don't even need the dark-purple mist anymore.

Suppose a person drawn on a two-dimensional plane. He can see only two dimensions—up, down, left, right. Drive a pencil into him from above, and he would suddenly feel as if he had been pierced. The principle is similar.

Approach a three-dimensional space from the fourth dimension, and there is nothing for the eye to catch. That does not mean I can go against time. It is only, quite literally, the sense of one further axis. Stopping time, or sending it forward, seems to stem from the same thing. If I grow stronger later, or learn the way, might I turn time backward? For now, I will tuck that into a corner of my memory.

I made the contract with them.

Then, as always, their skin split with a crack, and porcelain-white skin rose beneath it, while hair that had been black or brown washed purple all at once. I touched the light, and the light stained a deep purple. In the same moment, I received their memories.

To begin with, these so-called Dharma Protectors are something like soldiers. In order of rank, from highest to lowest, their names are Gapjae, Eunchun, and Byeongil.

The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult is the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. It goes by no other name—no Cult of the One Origin, no Cult of the Bright God. And Eunjae, as it happens, is not the first Heavenly Demon. He is the third.

None of the three knows very much. Born in villages under the cult's rule, and possessed of some talent for the martial arts, they worked hard in the hope of climbing high.

One memory struck me as strange. The moment a mere believer becomes a Dharma Protector, insects are planted in the body. And yet these people, surprisingly, pay it no mind, because everyone else does it. However were they indoctrinated... Is it the same as the country the faded man came from, where they record the fingerprints of anyone come of age, assign them numbers, and not a soul thinks to ask why?

They lived without a thought in their heads, eating whatever the cult gave them and living as they were left to live, and so they rose, even among the Dharma Protectors, to the post of Dharma Protector under a man called an Elder. Then word came that a monster called Chaos—the one that had given the Martial God a special power—was being summoned, and they followed, and now they are here.

Their warmth is very small beside the light. But the instant they became Harvesters, the warmth swelled all at once. What principle is this? No—it was far too small beside the light to begin with, and it has only grown to a certain degree. Is it because every insect inside them vanished?

The light is almost certainly the soul. Warmth, I suspect, is humanity, or desire. Something of that kind. That is why a person who has despaired and given up has almost no warmth. Thinking of the light that fell to me, if such a state lasts long enough, the light itself is likely to shrivel.

If the warmth grew because they gained power, and so the things they can do increased, then I can see the road ahead. I will have to think a little longer. But it means that if I pour out a very great deal of freedom, the light increases.

Hehe. The warmth grows plentiful.

I smiled, looking at the Heavenly Demon.

"I did what humans wish for."

Then I looked over my own body. As with Rebecca, there is a chance the one whose flesh I am using may come back to life. If so, I can allow a small convenience. So that people will not forget, I will have them call her by her name.

"As you know, my name is Choseol. Call me that."

Choseol, like Rebecca Rolf, is the name of the body I am inside. She is quite tall, but the flat chest and the figure still all of one piece were only because she is young. Rebecca Rolf was the same. They are using a child. Is it because a child can hold so much?

But this child, unlike Rebecca, was not living an ordinary life before she was taken. From the very beginning she was raised to fill some role. Most of her life is terribly thin and fleeting, and she remembers often doing something like training in a space of cloth—the same sort of place I was first dragged into.

Training, such as it was. She would breathe in a heavy dose of drugs and, mind gone hazy, think as hard as she could on the words spoken from outside. When the final moment came, they plucked out her eyes, cast some spell, and bound her in cloth. This time it was not drugs but a cloth soaked in water; with her breathing gone dim, she sought me.

Choseol seems to have been bred to become a Sacrifice. If it takes this much labor, it would be difficult to spread widely. No—it might be a method that suits me perfectly. This time, too, I will watch for an opening and take the knowledge, just as I did before.

When I gave my name, the Heavenly Demon stared at me as if he meant to drag out whatever I was hiding. But there is nothing much to hide. Only this: please, nothing but the warmth. I put that feeling into a smile and met his eyes, and he pointed at me and shouted.

Oh dear. So that's how it is?

The people around us began to chant. Gapjae, Eunchun, Byeongil, Choseol—these four do not know the language. Which is to say, there is a separate tongue for working this magic. Later, I need only lick the light of someone who knows how.

While I thought so, the cloth hung thick from the ceiling came down and wound around me, layer upon layer. They are not using a way of watching, as Yasle did. But this is fine in its own way. If I tell myself it is a swaddling for the blessing, I can bear it. And I still have not heard what the Heavenly Demon truly wants.

Heehee.

He had tested my ability. Which is to say, he needs the blessing. Not sealing me away with no questions asked, or cutting me down, simply so that a second Martial God would never appear. He means to use me again.

Before the cloth could wind all the way around me, I offered a greeting to the Heavenly Demon, who was staring straight at me.

"See you next time, young lady."

I had wanted to see his face. Before I could, the cloth covered mine completely. But I can still see the world through the eyes of the three men called Dharma Protectors.

Ah!

All three have their heads bowed, so I cannot tell what expression he is wearing. If I could have seen it, I would have gathered so many clues to what he is thinking. What a shame. But there is plenty of time. And this seal will certainly be undone from their side. Waiting is something I am sure of.

Well then. I will watch, and see what the Heavenly Demon desires. He will experiment with these three, and in doing so he is sure to show me his own hunger.