An Impossible Season Falls Upon the Forest (1)
In a forest where an impossible season had descended.
‘Ah… I’m… right now…’
It was cold. The bone-chilling frost held within the late-autumn earth crept slowly up my body. The rustling sensation of fallen leaves pressed against my back.
My consciousness had returned, but my vision had not yet followed. I couldn’t even tell if my eyes were open or closed. Beyond the darkness, I could hear the low murmur of voices.
“This one is a failure.”
“Is that so, Father? To me, this one looks perfect. If anything, the witch seems to be…”
The one called Father spoke in a solemn tone.
“Not a witch. An angel. It appears she failed to undergo apotheosis for now… but the seed has already been planted. She remains a noble being.”
“M-my apologies, Father.”
“Apologize to Lady Kaira.”
My… name.
The moment I heard that longed-for name, my eyes flew open.
Between the bare branches that still clung to a few red and yellow leaves, the vivid blue of the sky stabbed sharply into my newly restored vision.
“Ugh…”
I groaned and twisted my body. The first thing I checked were the backs of my hands and my arms.
…They were the same.
Veins as black as if tangled in nightmares crawled across the backs of my hands and arms, while the skin where no blood vessels ran had turned a lifeless, pigmentless gray.
The tentacles that had burst from every orifice of my body were gone. The writhing, swollen belly and breasts had returned to their proper place. But that was all.
Then how… how am I still maintaining my consciousness… my will…?
I had understood that those swallowed by demonic energy had their wills shattered and their souls torn away, leaving only empty shells to become puppets for the one who infused them.
“You’re awake.”
A familiar voice rang out toward me as I looked around in confusion. It was that so-called priest—the one who had committed what they grandly dressed up as the ‘Offering Ritual,’ which was nothing more than rape.
I turned my head toward him, and I saw it.
“Hic…!!”
A small figure standing with them.
“No… no… that can’t… be…”
Pirel was there.
With a vacant expression drenched in ecstasy, skin drained of all color just like mine, her entire body embroidered with bulging black-gray veins. That was Pirel.
“U… aah… ah? E… aah…”
From Pirel’s slightly parted lips, several pitch-black tentacles dangled as mindless moans leaked out.
Her ash-gray face was completely empty. There was no trace of the bold, energetic girl overflowing with vitality and a touch of recklessness.
Several thin tentacles wriggling out from Pirel’s ears crawled across her face as if licking it, smearing ominous black mucus everywhere.
“What… what did you… what the hell did you do to Pirel…?”
Unlike me, Pirel was still wearing the clothes she had on, but black tentacles—woven as if from the very essence of shadow—had torn through the skin of her shoulders and waist, ripping her garments to shreds.
Even her small belly and the breasts that had barely begun to bud were grotesquely and unnaturally swollen, pulsing as they held a mass of writhing tentacles.
From the tips of her bloated chest, tentacles that seemed to have burst through the skin around her nipples twitched, while a coal-black liquid resembling breast milk flowed from their roots, soaking the torn fabric over her breasts.
It was exactly the same form I had taken moments ago.
“All of this was your doing.”
From beneath the hem of Pirel’s skirt, tentacles of various thicknesses forced their way out, drenching her slender calves in sticky black mucus.
There was no need to wonder from which part of her body those tentacles had sprouted.
Pirel, who barely moved except for the occasional stagger caused by the tentacles, met my gaze. In her eyes…
I could read nothing at all.
“That… that can’t be…”
Her soul, her will, her expression—nothing remained. She was merely a host for the shadow’s tentacles, a puppet standing silently.
“I had hoped for more, but it seems your adorable little sister lacked your level of talent.”
The priest explained in a genuinely regretful tone.
“As your blood relative, her aptitude for the offering was extraordinary. The proof is how she instantly received the blessing and underwent apotheosis into an angelic form. A devotee with such potential is nearly impossible to find even if one scoured the entire empire. That is why, should we discover one, we must bestow the blessing without asking for their consent. Truly rare.”
That horrifying sight… they called it an angel. I wanted to look away, but…
The strange, pounding excitement I felt while gazing at the corrupted girl in her grotesque state prevented my eyes from turning away.
“However, it seems she did not possess the strength of will to endure that blessing as you did. Unlike you, who maintained your sense of self even amid the endless climax gifted by the gods, this girl’s mind has been shattered beyond repair. That is the only difference.”
Pirel’s mind… had been erased.
I bit my lower lip and glared at the priest.
“Lady Kaira, the gift of the gods that had manifested in physical form upon your body appears to have fallen dormant once more. However, the blessing bestowed upon you remains valid. You can tell just by looking at the back of your hand. Perhaps it is because your power has not fully bloomed yet? Well, no matter. Your intellect remains intact. If you temper your faith and train your strength, you will be able to be reborn as a complete angel.”
I had hoped this would never happen.
I had hoped Pirel would not die. I had hoped I would never have to rewind her time to bring her back.
If I kept using my ability so conveniently, treating life and dignity like mere tools, I feared the last traces of humanity within me would soon be wiped away.
That was why I had obediently listened to everything they said.
And because of that… Pirel.
My mother…
Had become this.
At this rate, Pirel might as well be dead.
I would have to… revise the plan.
By killing them all.
I spoke quietly, but with a firm tone.
“Give Pirel back to me.”
“Pirel is right here. As I said, there is no way to restore the bold little lady’s mind. So what shall we do? Shall I keep this shell that has attained true beauty by your side at all times, Lady Kaira? Let her serve you as a handmaiden, an angel attending an angel.”
The priest spoke playfully and grabbed Pirel by the shoulder, turning the ash-gray girl with sprouting tentacles to face me.
“U… aah… uh, a… e, uh…”
Pirel… Mother… Mother… Why? How could this… why…?
Pirel let out beast-like moans of confusion before slowly beginning to walk toward me, the one whose eyes had met hers. Her expression was one of endlessly swimming in the heights of ecstasy.
Why… why are you making such a happy face… even after becoming like that…?
If I kept meeting the gaze of my mother, whose eyes had gone completely black and empty, I felt I would go mad again. Had my own face looked this horrifying just moments ago?
Pickled in pleasures from beyond this world—pleasures no one in this realm could ever taste—until my mind and will were completely lost, capable of thinking of nothing but pleasure. Was that what I had looked like?
I glared with eyes burning with hatred at the priest, the man dressed like an adventurer standing beside him, and the heavily armored warrior who seemed to have regained his senses despite missing an arm.
They’re nothing but a cult. They probably don’t know much about magic. If it’s only chantless casting with simple hand gestures… they won’t be able to respond in time.
When Pirel—now a corrupted ‘angel’ in their eyes—staggered unsteadily toward me, her shadow-colored tentacles swaying in the faint breeze, and came within arm’s reach, I cast a spell on her.
The spell I had created.
Wait, Mom! Mom, have you lost your mind?! You can’t use that!! The diary—if you use that, Lady Pirel’s mind will…!!
Inside my head, my daughter screamed wildly, trying to rein me in. I answered her calmly.
No. I need it.
Then I gently placed my hand on Pirel’s swollen belly, still bulging with pitch-black tentacles, and whispered in my heart.
Rewind…
And it rewound.
The wriggling black appendages that had sprouted across Pirel’s body, the pitch-black veins that had stood out beneath her delicate skin, the ashen color of her complexion that had looked like scattered ashes on white paper—
All of it returned.
To the cute appearance befitting a girl from the market alley who had loved the baker’s son, Rasail.
Yet she retained every last memory of the nightmare in which gods from beyond had invaded her entire being.
“I need it… Memories are growth. Experiences are identity… They will surely be necessary. For Mother… for Pirel as well.”
I spoke as if making an excuse, then bit down hard on my teeth.
I watched as Pirel staggered and leaned against a rock, then turned to look at the three men, who wore expressions of utter shock at the sight of a completely purified Pirel.
“I cannot forgive you.”
“Forgiveness is something only the gods can grant.”
The priest answered with a smirk, though he could not completely hide his panic.
“And now I finally understand. My goodness. You truly are the one who shall lead us. Why someone who was nothing more than a mediocre mage became a hero, why you disappeared right after defeating the Demon King, why you had to become a wanted criminal—everything makes sense now!”
Words poured out of him, unable to contain his joy even as he panicked.
I had no desire to listen to the ravings of a madman.
“Yes, of course. It had to be this way. Lady Kaira’s power does not belong to this world! It is a power granted by something that twists the laws of the world and interferes with its principles from somewhere beyond the empty void above the heavens, is it not? You were never merely an apostle or an angel!”
I knelt and swept my hand across the ground covered in layers of fallen leaves. I could see the back of my hand, its veins pulsing black with demonic energy.
“Lady Kaira is an incarnation. Yes! Another incarnation of those beings, equal to the Demon King!!”
How was I still maintaining my sanity in this state?
Was it thanks to Rin’s efforts? Or was there some secret connecting me to the evil gods, just as the priest’s nonsense suggested?
It didn’t matter. What I had to do now was…
I lifted my eyes. The three men who had tried to erase the soul of my precious Pirel entered my field of vision and were captured within my awareness.
Their torsos. The ground they stood upon. The tips of my fingers connected to that earth.
I brought my other hand, the one not touching the ground, close to my pitch-black heart. The natural clock that let me feel time even without a watch.
And I thought. I wasn’t particularly desperate. This was something I did all the time. I murmured it lightly, as gently as a spring breeze.
“Now I can say it. Because I finally understand completely. Ah, Lady Kaira. The power you possess is the power to twist the very laws of the world itself, the very power that our gods rule over. In other words, the power to—”
I couldn’t hear him.
I had no time to listen to the cultist’s nonsense.
Rewind.
And then—
A gentle spring breeze blew.
A spring breath that wrapped around my naked body as softly as silk.
From the backs of my colorless hands all the way to where the three men stood, the narrow space in the middle of this autumn forest was dyed with fully bloomed spring flowers and fresh, tender green sprouts.
In the heart of an autumn forest filled only with earthy browns, a warm, vivid green space that seemed to defy reality spread out where my hand touched.
The scent of earth awakening from frozen hibernation and pulsing with the warmth of life. The freshness of annual plants newly sprouted from seeds that had hidden their lives. It spread unnaturally beneath the cold of a season where even butterflies did not fly.
And over that, the bright red blood of those who had met the spring tide they should never have encountered scattered, painting color across the blooming wildflowers.
The heads of the three devotees of the evil god—who had violated me and made me corrupt Pirel with my own hands—were cleanly severed from their bodies, whose time had been rewound, as blood gushed out like a fountain.
Thud, thud.
The sound of three men’s heads falling to the ground without even letting out a final scream.
I stared at the three headless torsos still standing as if denying reality.
They should collapse soon…
“Huh…?”
The torsos of the two men fell, but the one who had been the priest remained standing, turning toward me.
From the severed neck, a familiar shape began to sprout. A sticky darkness. An opaque, amorphous tentacle without gloss or color, as if the very horror of midnight had taken physical form…
“Futile.”
A spine-chilling voice that seemed to tear directly at my brain rang in my ears. It was not a sound that had entered through my actual ears. It was completely different from the tone the priest had used while he still had a neck.
Was this the will of the tentacle?
Or the master beyond the tentacle…?
“It has already permeated everything. There is no path of resistance.”
I stared blankly at the impossibly moving shadow. Even though it was clear that the tentacle radiated hostility toward me, a predatory will that sought to devour my entire torso.
I remained frozen like that.
“Kaira, watch out!!”
Until a girl screamed sharply and rushed forward to shove me aside.
Until the deafening roar of gunpowder exploding right beside my ear, a single gunshot that seemed to rupture my eardrums, spread the acrid smell of gunpowder across the beautiful spring flowerbed that a power defying the laws of time had forcibly manifested in the middle of autumn.
“Wh-what…?”
In the spot where I had been pushed, Pirel stood panting. In her hands was a portable flintlock pistol that the dead inquisitor had been carrying.
Only then did the priest’s torso, which had sprouted a tentacle from its severed neck, collapse powerlessly. The tentacle dissolved into shadow and vanished, as if it had never existed in the first place.
“Honestly, Kaira.”
Pirel said, catching her breath.
“You really can’t do anything without me around…”
Even as she boasted like that, Pirel’s mind must have been utterly exhausted. She dropped the pistol and collapsed onto the ground right there, atop the extraordinary autumn field filled with the scent of spring.