Chapter 36
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Kuncan's Gift
-----------------------------------------------------------------
#
Someone once said that mana is like the wind.
Roberta agreed with that sentiment. Peering into the house with Fritz, she felt a breeze. Standing before the window, she sensed a flow of mana blowing from inside out, like a draft from a vent.
That breeze was the mana emanating from the monsters—no, the people—whose names were inscribed in the register of the evil god Kuncan. As their names were erased from the register, the mana their bodies held flowed out as if escaping.
The people inside the house groaned. The backlash must have hit them as a lifetime’s accumulation of mana drained away all at once. Some collapsed, some clutched their chests, and some dry-heaved.
And then, just after all their mana had seeped out of the house, a different mana blew in and settled into their empty bodies.
*‘Were their names truly erased from the register?’*
Though she was witnessing it for the first time in her life, Roberta was certain.
Ulrich had said, “Now, your names have been erased from Kuncan’s register.” It was a whisper, but in the silence of the night. When even breathing was audible, a whisper was impossible to miss.
*‘The mana is leaving because their names were erased from the register, and new mana is entering because they’ve received a new sacrament. There’s no other reason.’*
How could that be possible?
The fact that he had bestowed a sacrament was not surprising. She had seen it before. On her first day in Dithmarschen, he had performed a sacrament right in front of her.
But erasing a name from the register?
*‘Even His Holiness can’t do that. Erasing a name from the register.’*
It was a miracle beyond even the head of the Ecumenical Church.
The public mistakenly believed excommunication was the removal of a name from the heavens, but that was far from the truth. Excommunication was merely the expulsion of an individual from the human community of the Ecumenical Church, not an alteration of the register.
*‘It’s not even in the scriptures. When the Creator resided in the heavens, there was no need to alter the register. Changing the register was only ever mentioned in the apocrypha and pseudepigrapha of later ages.’*
As she recalled, several beings were mentioned in the apocrypha as having changed the register, but the reasons were never explained. Chronologically, it was always after the Creator’s departure, and the subjects were of other races.
That was why it was apocrypha. The texts contained things that couldn’t be logically explained, but they weren't matters to be classified as pseudepigrapha. Since it was never mentioned during the age of the gods, it couldn't be a divine power.
Thus, theologians had speculated it was a metaphor, and Roberta had thought so too. Until now. But it was no metaphor.
“Who… are you?”
Tapio asked cautiously.
He was a man who had once walked the path of a priest. Even as a mere apprentice priest, he could not be ignorant of how outrageous the miracle Ulrich had performed was.
“Tapio, continue to lead these children.”
Ulrich didn’t answer the question, offering a gentle smile instead.
“Just as you have until now, so that the children do not stray.”
Tapio opened his mouth to ask again but hesitated. His gaze went over Ulrich’s shoulder. The children, born human but made into something else, were watching his back with wide eyes.
The wariness, worry, and anxiety they had held moments ago were gone. The pain that had flared as their mana left had subsided, and only surprise remained amidst the calm.
But their appearances were unchanged.
“…Will their forms also return to normal with time?”
“No, not everything can be reverted. This was not a curse.”
Why? The word slipped from Tapio’s lips.
“Even though the evil god’s power no longer reaches them?”
“Kuncan, whom you call an evil god—his power brings about change. It makes one grow into a completely different being, not inheriting the traits given by their parents. The only way to revert a life that has already grown is to turn back time.”
His eyes trembled violently. It meant that even after escaping the evil god’s grasp, they could not return to being human. As Tapio opened his mouth to let out a sigh, Ulrich continued.
“However, I have placed your names in Ganymea’s register.”
Ganymea, goddess of knowledge and wisdom, and mother of Hestio.
“The power of the beings you call good gods tries not to exert great influence on our world. It follows the nature of its master. Thus, its influence is minimal compared to Kuncan’s.”
But, he added.
“In her life, she and Kuncan never saw eye to eye. The power she left behind is the same. It will seek to temper some of the changes he made, and erase others.”
“Because she… symbolizes reason.”
This was why Ganymea’s priests were often described as level-headed. Moreover, her priests also had an unusually strong curiosity in their pursuit of knowledge.
That wasn't all, Ulrich muttered to himself. Tapio didn't hear him. He was troubled. The liberation he had so desperately yearned for had arrived, but it hadn't solved all their problems.
Even with their names erased, their appearances had not returned to human. The children who had received the false sacrament would have to bear their current forms until the day they died and returned to dust.
“Appearance is important. But it is not everything.”
Tapio nodded.
Until this very moment, what had been Tapio’s basis for treating the children as people? For him, the measure of a person was their thoughts and actions. If they thought like humans and acted like humans, then even if their appearance changed, they were still human children to him.
“Kuncan drove the children to impulse. They would suddenly get angry, or cry, and then for a moment, they would even forget they were ever human.”
“That will no longer happen.”
Ulrich asserted that it would no longer happen, that even if their forms did not return, they would not become monsters. Tapio managed a difficult smile and clenched his fists.
“That is enough.”
#
Ulrich left the house alone. He met Roberta and Fritz, who were waiting outside. Their expressions were different.
Fritz was composed. This was partly because his lack of experience prevented him from fully understanding what had transpired inside, but his attitude would likely not have been much different even if he had.
The boy was a scion of the Meyer family, a house that had served one man for generations. He was the type to see an even greater miracle and simply accept it as something that could happen. He was raised that way, and his inherited disposition was as such.
“…”
Roberta, on the other hand, had a complex expression.
A tangle of emotions seemed to have left her speechless.
“Roberta, I imagine you can see the answer without needing to ask.”
At Ulrich’s words, Roberta’s expression hardened.
“It would be strange if you didn’t. But you don’t need to hear it from my lips right now. By the end of our journey, you will be able to reach your own conclusion.”
Saying she would come to understand many things without him explaining each one, Ulrich began to walk. The other two followed. In the late-night village, even the sounds of insects were quiet.
“Don’t you think this is a truly harsh world?”
Since Roberta didn’t ask, Fritz did.
“Harsh in what way, sir?”
“The fact that one cannot live without relying on the gods.”
“Isn’t that natural, since they created our world?”
“It is not natural. The world was not originally like this. The ritual you call the Infant Sacrament was created after the age of the gods ended. It was not made by the gods.”
Huh? Fritz tilted his head. It was so different from the common knowledge the boy possessed that he looked to Roberta. She remained silent. She didn’t react, even after hearing words that denied her religion. She merely stared intensely at his back.
“When the celestial beings tuned the world with their great will, the mortal plane was pure. One could command mana without receiving a sacrament, and mana did not harm those who hadn’t received one. Mana was simply a part of nature, flowing like the wind.”
“…”
“In those days, faith was also unnecessary. None of the world’s creators called themselves gods, nor did they wish for it. It was the people on the mortal plane who revered them.”
Ulrich then looked up at the slightly cloudy sky, where the fog had lifted, and spoke. There were many believers even when they were present; now that they were gone, it was not even worth mentioning.
“It is only natural that today’s Pantheon created the concepts of heaven and hell, and claims that nothing but faith has value. Look at what this village, what Tapio and the children, have endured.”
Unable to receive the sacrament during the civil war, not a single child survived past a year for many years, and the sacrament they finally received summoned an uninvited being and brought them suffering.
Of course, this village’s situation was an exception among exceptions. But the fact that such an exception could occur was proof that our world is a harsh one.
“Not many can endure such hardships by accepting them as the nature of reality. They are bound to believe there must be a reason for their suffering and that a reward will follow. That the heavens are testing them, and that they will go to heaven. They live hoping for a salvation no one has ever promised.”
“…But.”
Roberta spoke then.
“In the end, this place received that unpromised salvation.”
Ulrich’s steps paused for a moment before continuing.
“My view may be narrow, but I do not pretend not to see what I have seen.”
#
When morning came, the three visitors left the village.
The swamp had once again sent its fog, and so the three who had come from beyond the mist disappeared back into it.
Tapio and the villagers stood at the entrance to the village. They saw off the man who had moved their names to the proper place.
“Master Tapio.”
Hearing the young voice, Tapio looked down.
“Is it okay if we don’t go inside?”
asked a boy with deer antlers growing above his ears.
“What if someone else sees us?”
His voice was thick with worry. It was the fear of what might happen if an outsider saw them standing in front of the village.
It was a natural concern. Even though the evil god’s blessing that had settled on the village was gone, their appearances remained the same.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to hide anymore.”
Tapio stroked the head of the boy who asked, “Really?” Though their appearances would cause many problems, he wasn’t worried.
“Hold out your hand. Remember what I showed you earlier?”
“This?”
The boy opened his right palm. It was covered in soft white down, with pink pads protruding between the tufts, much like a cat's upturned paw.
Soon, a light shone. A blue crest, the symbol of Ganymea, materialized above his bare palm. Tapio told him he did well, then opened his own right palm to reveal his seal.
Tapio’s seal was not Ganymea’s. It was that of Dieus, the king of the heavens. Until yesterday, he had possessed a wooden seal of Dieus, but as of today, he held the true seal. Along with the children to whom he had administered the sacrament.
“If anyone calls you a monster, show them that.”
He thought as he looked at the boy’s seal.
This was the youngest of the children who had received the false sacrament. He had several siblings, but they had all been consumed by madness and died. One by one, from the eldest down, they had become monsters.
This child was next. Both of them knew that the same end his siblings had met would soon befall him. It was a conclusion he was destined to meet before long.
But that destiny had changed.
A man who could alter the heavenly register and bestow the grace of Ganymea and Dieus had stood before the child. The wrongly inscribed name was erased from hell and rewritten in the register of the mother of humanity.
From now on, this child would live on—not as a monster, but as a person. And he would grow up, have descendants, and become the beginning of a yet-unnamed race in this age after the gods’ departure.