Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

We didn’t go straight to the ritual from the meeting.

The mystic and the elders wanted to, but I received one day of grace. The reason, of course, was that I had spells to prepare.

The warrior clan offered us the biggest and fanciest of their residences as our guestroom. There, Sedam wrote down the information we’d acquired that day. Reyha prepared tea.

“I already thought you were too incredible to be true, but to think you were from a different world. Is everyone in that world a wizard like you?”

I stopped thumbing through my spellbook at Sedam’s question. I lay down on the embroidered carpet and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “No… I think it’s quite rare…”

“Another world… I wonder what kind of wonderful world you came from, Lord?” Reyha asked as she poured the warrior clan’s tea, which had a strong and unique scent. Her purple eyes were sparkling.

“My world?” I sat up and scratched my jaw, thinking about it as I took my tea. At least where I lived, my world was more peaceful and prosperous than this one. On a global scale, though, it was full of problems.

For example, science, political systems, and ideologies. The preexisting conditions such as daemons were fundamentally different, but in a way, it was more advanced than this world.

Even though there was magic and sorcery, this world had the same laws of physics, and the human spirit was pretty much the same. There was also the possibility that, with time, there would be an industrial revolution and people’s thoughts would develop, too.

Some of the protagonists that I’d read about in portal fantasies or isekai fiction used the knowledge of their own time and place to reform society.

My first job is to protect people from daemons. But how can I achieve that? Does the Watcher want me to develop this world? For example, if there was a system where a country could guarantee a certain quality life for its citizens in this world, maybe there wouldn’t be so many miserable children like the sorcerer-soldiers of the guild.

But then again…

I struggled to see a way forward. Leading the world to a better path was far beyond my ability. I became depressed, thinking about it all. I sighed, still imagining what intentions the Watcher might have had for me.

“My lord?”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking.”

I felt awkward after clamming up without answering Reyha’s question. I started sipping my tea.

 

***

 

The next morning…

“Okay, done.” I closed my spellbook. I’d finished charging Mind Wall and Perfect Resistance, both spells that I didn’t use often.

“Then let’s go! I’m going, you’re going, we’re all going. C’mon.” Sedam practically pulled me out of the room, cheerful as can be.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Lade, who was waiting for us outside, led us to the site of the prophecy ritual. I saw how excited Sedam was and pretended not to notice him murmuring to himself.

We soon reached a valley that looked like someone had ripped a mountain in two. There was a cave in the rocky mountain right behind the warrior clan’s castrum where the ritual was to take place.

“Sorry to have kept you all waiting,” I said.

In front of the cave stood the mystic, of course, as well as several warrior clan women dressed in the same red and white outfits. Apparently, my words served as a signal for them to bow deeply.

Lade said, “Try not to get in your own way,” and left us. The elders weren’t there. It seemed like men weren’t normally allowed.

“From here, I would like to ask for only the wizard to accompany me,” the true elf maiden said to us in her captivating voice.

“I knew it.” Sedam put his hand to his forehead and groaned.

Sometimes, reality bites.

“Sorry, buddy… I’ll try to tell you every detail later.” I patted him on the shoulder.

“You better. I want to hear everything.” Sedam wasn’t a bad guy. He nodded and took a step back.

“Now, wizard. Please wait over here.” One of the maidens held something out. Upon closer inspection, it was a wooden tool with red thread wrapped around it many times…a spool.

“What’s this for?”

“To mark your path, so that you can return to this world from that of the daemon’s consciousness. Never let this string break.”

After explaining, the mystic took the end of the string on the spool I held and handed it to Reyha.

“Er, what’s this for?”

“This string is strongest when it is held by a woman who cares about the person going in. You are suitable.”

Puzzled at first, after Reyha heard the explanation, she looked at me. She sat down right there and hung her head.

“Lord. I, Reyhanalka Haiklus Si, swear to protect this thread with my life!”

“I hope you will…”

There was certainly no question about her loyalty. I didn’t know if this thread was just a prop, or if it really did have some sort of sorcerous meaning, but if Reyha said she would, I knew she would protect it.

Meanwhile, I could hear Sedam’s murmuring as he closely watched the spool. “Hmm… Taking a red thread to another world. It’s like the story of Olrol and Chalis.”

“Could you explain that? In detail.”

The whole thing was strange. A journey into a dimension of the mind? It was almost like eldritch horror. But if you weren’t ready for things to get a little cosmic, then you’d never be able to play a horror RPG like The Call of Cthulhu.

 

***

 

“It’s like the story of Olrol and Chalis.”

The tale Sedam summarized was almost the same story as the earthly myth of Theseus and the Minotaur.

A warrior named Olrol went into the underworld to kill a monster.

Chalis, his lover, gave him a thread so he wouldn’t get lost in the underworld.

Olrol made it deep into the underworld and killed the monster, then followed the thread to return to the world.

“I see. It really is similar.”

“I perform the ritual in the way that the first generation and the sage taught me, but this is the first time I’ve heard about that myth,” the mystic murmured, nodding as she stared down at the spool in her hand. I didn’t volunteer the extra nuance that I found it similar not just to Sedian myth, but tales of ancient Greece.

I wondered if it meant that even in different worlds, human societies tended to resemble one other. Anyway, the important detail was that I had to make sure that I didn’t drop this thread or let it get cut off.

“Reyha, I’m counting on you. Hold on tight, will you? Don’t ever let go of me,” I asked her again.

“Chalis… I am Chalis… Er, yes. Of course, my lord!”

She wasn’t just acting. I started to feel a little weak, but I shook it off.

 

***

 

“Now I’m really ready.”

“Are you sure?”

I cast a number of defensive spells on both myself and the mystic. She probably didn’t realize it, but in D&B, these spells could defend even against epic-level enemies and their mental attacks.

“I-I will be waiting here the whole time,” Reyha assured me.

The mystic and I entered the cave while Reyha cried desperately, holding tightly to the end of the red thread.

 

***

 

The cave was so narrow that we couldn’t walk side by side. Soon, we could no longer hear Reyha’s voice or see the light of the entrance.

“What’s this…?” No sooner had I started thinking about using my light spell than I realized that I could see faintly inside the cave. There was some sort of floating presence in the space, emitting a faint glow.

The two red strings from the spools were also glowing faintly.

A red light stretching from the entrance into the abyss. There was something romantic and whimsical about it.

“It’s the light of pure mana.”

“This is mana? Am I able to perceive it now? No, it’s not quite the same…”

“The mana in this place is especially potent, enough to see with the naked eye,” the mystic told me.

“I see…” I wondered if the land here had always been like that, or if this was something the warrior clan had done to it. In any case, this was a valuable experience.

We continued down into the quiet, dark, narrow cave. It was like diving deep into the sea. Wait…this whole descent was probably part of the ritual, a physical way of emulating the process of touching the daemon’s consciousness.

It felt like less than ten minutes had passed, but I couldn’t really tell. We reached the end before I felt tired.

The space was about the size of a small classroom. In the center lay an eerie object.

“This is the cornerstone.”

What the mystic called the cornerstone was, in fact, the torso of some ancient daemon that had undergone mummification or a similar process. Its head—which was far too large for the torso—was covered in horns and strange, tactile organs. The torso was covered in cuts.

It was supported not by its two broken arms, but stakes that pierced its shoulders, back, sides and other places. There were also stakes surrounding the torso, closing it in. They seemed to be wooden, but they were all illuminated by a pale light, which contrasted starkly with the jet-back daemon flesh.

The stakes were all connected with a net draped over the thing’s remains, as if trapping the daemon in. Clearly, it had somehow been sealed away.

“We will now use the cornerstone to carry out the prophetic ritual,” the mystic told me quietly. There was something odd about her figure against the pale light emitted from the stakes.

“These stakes…are they wards or something?”

“Yes. These are branches from the sacred tree. They seal in the spirit of the daemon and connect me to that spirit.”

According to the mystic’s explanation, the sacred tree was a source of mana, and that mana worked as a medium to connect spiritual wavelengths.

“This is only possible because I am a true elf, a species that has handled mana across the ages.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t plan on conducting the same ritual as you. Instead, I would like to use this. What do you think?”

She looked at me, confused.

I showed her the ESP Medal. The prophetic ritual was what connected the mystic to the daemon. In that case, if she were to touch the ESP Medal in the middle of that ritual, I would probably be able to get a look into the daemon’s spirit, too.

“That is…totally unexpected.”

This response to my request was the first time I’d ever heard the elf maiden use a dumbfounded voice. “Perhaps it’s impossible?”

“Not quite… Honestly, I have no idea. But from what I’ve heard, I think it might be possible…”

“I know it’s rude to look into someone’s heart. But could you help me try this?” I bowed to her as I asked this favor, flustered.

“I can’t refuse. But if it looks like you are in danger, I will end the ritual immediately.”

“I understand. I’ll be in your debt.”

The mystic took a package from her bosom. When she removed the wrapping, there was an item within—a number of small bells connected together. It looked exactly like the kagura bells that Shinto shrine maidens used in Japan. She lifted it with her white hands, and rang it.

Ting!

The clear sound echoed through the narrow space.

 

***

 

…to a place above the heavens to the palm of my hand…

The elf maiden was kneeling in front of the creepy daemon corpse. She chanted, her voice flowing like that of someone reciting poetry. The jingle-jangle of the kagura bells was a fine complement to her chanting.

… the princess who stands not before god, forsaken by heaven and earth, realms never to meet…

I couldn’t really tell what the chant meant. Sometimes I felt like I knew some of the words, but when I tried to understand the meaning, they ran together. When I tried to pick some words up, I would miss others, ensuring the overall meaning eluded me.

With this kind of setup, even if we were on Earth, I would’ve been certain a ghost or two would show up.

I stood behind her, examining the daemonic cornerstone set into the wall directly in front of the entrance. It was of a very particular size, and covered in carved runes. It could only serve one purpose.

It was a door.

The important components here were the cornerstone, the sacred tree, and that door. Each time the warrior clan moved, they carried all of these with them. According to the mystic’s explanation, once the ritual began, the door would open, and she would connect to the consciousness of the daemon.

I held up the ESP Medal and aimed it toward the mystic. I focused on the chant and melody, zeroing in on her thoughts, and before long, I was peering into her heart. The ESP Medal normally didn’t work on a person who was using Mind Wall, but a person could choose to allow a friend to make contact.

“Hmm?”

The moment I felt the elf’s consciousness flow into me, the light around us changed.

I could no longer see the shadow or shape of the cornerstone or the sacred tree. The door…was there.

I should probably explain. What was supposed to be a slab of stone had suddenly turned into a gaping hole.

“Is that… Lord Wizard?”

The mystic stood up and looked at me, surprised.

“If we are here together, it means that you are touching the consciousness of the daemon through my heart, right?”

“It seems that way.”

I wasn’t exactly reading the mystic’s consciousness. It was more like the sensation when I entered my inner world to use my spells. In both cases, I used a person’s consciousness to enter another world. Even if this time it was her consciousness, they were still similar experiences.

“As yet we stand outside the entrance to the daemon’s will. From here, we pass through the gate and go down deep. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.”

I swallowed hard, gripping the spool with clammy hands. The red thread continued up out of the abyss behind us.

 

***

 

I followed behind the mystic and went through the door. The light of ambient mana from before was gone, but even though we were surrounded by darkness, for some reason, I could feel my way in the dark.

On the other side of the door was a cave big enough to walk side by side. The floor and walls felt more like hard clay than stone. The cave was on a slope, and there was a warm wind flowing all around us.

This was definitely one of the creepiest adventures I’d ever been on, and it was supposedly dangerous, but I didn’t feel afraid for some reason. If anything, it really felt like a dream. Well, I was using the mystic as a medium to enter into the world of daemons’ will. It was the same sort of spiritual world as my inner world. In extreme terms, it really felt no different from dreaming.

“I’m sorry, can you wait here for a moment?”

“What’s wrong?”

I remembered that there was something I had to do, despite my fuzzy head. When I called out to the mystic, she stopped. I closed my eyes.

There was silence.

“Uh, hello? Wizard?”

It was exactly ten seconds. The mystic called out to me while I was meditating. The results were perfect, so I opened my eyes.

“Oh, sorry. I was just experimenting. It’s okay now.”

“Is that so…?”

The mystic tilted her head to the side and then went back to walking. I was sorry for doing that to her, but we were already in the consciousness of the daemons—in other words, hostile territory. I couldn’t tell her the results of my experiment out loud.

 

***

 

We continued down into the cave, which mostly looked the same throughout. My sense of time disappeared on the path, where the only variety consisted of the repeated breathing and footsteps of the elf maiden. I had the red spool of thread in my left hand. Just knowing that Reyha was on the other end of the string was a comfort I couldn’t put it into words.

In order to keep my wits about me, I thought about the myth mentioned earlier. Olrol and Chalis had the exact same structure as the ancient Greek myth on earth. Despite this, I couldn’t bring myself to think that there was a monster waiting for me deep in this cave…

If the place we were in right now was another world known as the daemonic consciousness, then the situation was similar to that of heroes visiting the underworld or netherworld in so many myths.

In Japan, Izanagi went down into the netherworld to bring back the dead Izanami.

Orpheus descended to the underworld for his dead wife, Eurydice.

There were plenty of myths with this same theme, but the common factor among all the living who ventured into the realm of the dead was that they broke the taboo of seeing things that they shouldn’t.

I wondered if I was doing the same thing with this adventure.

 

***

 

“We’re almost there.”

“Oh…good, okay.”

The voice of the mystic brought my consciousness back from nearly drowning in a sea of thought. I hurried to catch up to her.

“This really is a strange atmosphere.”

I noticed that the wind flowing from farther down the cave had started to feel cold. There was a small light I could now see in the darkness that I’d thought would last forever. The light was a cloudy white, like an overcast sky. Even that was better than the dark, and it spread farther. Both the mystic and I quickened our step, thinking that it must be the exit from the cave.

“Here?”

A warm breeze hit my face.

What I saw spread before me could only be described as a raging ocean of mud. We’d finally reached the exit of the endless cave to find ourselves on the shore of a muddy sea. With each wave, stones of various sizes piled up on top of each other.

This wasn’t real mud, or even a real sea. And yet there were “waves” that rushed to our feet from the reddish-brown “ocean.” When I looked closer, each drop that splashed onto the black stones was a tiny daemon.

They looked like deformed dolls, but they were definitely imps and fiends. I didn’t think they were real, living daemons. The countless tiny daemons splattering about either lost their shape, like clay melting in water, or soon returned to the ocean.

But that wasn’t all. There was a giant human-like figure towering above everything, big enough to cover the ocean’s leaden sky. (Or was it a ceiling?)

It was similar to the supermassive daemon that I’d seen in Filsand. Its legs were short, and both the arms and torso were abnormally long. The slender body was hunched over, and both hands reached the surface of the sea. The head was mostly round, and there was a single torn line where the eyes and mouth should have been. It felt similar to the jet-black, spherical nests that called the daemons from the other world.

I was already confused about the sense of scale. The distance from that humanoid creature seemed to be several hundreds of meters or even tens of kilometers, and the size seemed to change every time I looked, from a skyscraper’s height to a mountain’s. To be honest, if I hadn’t already felt like I was in the middle of a dream, I would have been going crazy right about now.

Well. If this is a Cthulhu adventure, then that was my SAN check. Guess I got a good roll…

But maybe the reason I was still somewhat lucid was the Mind Wall spell. In any case, from the looks of it, the daemon’s existences really were like those of ants or bees.

Fortunately, the gigantic humanoid wasn’t doing anything except standing there, and it didn’t seem interested in us at all.

“Is this hell?” I only dared let my words slip out because I’d already confirmed that the humanoid wasn’t moving.

“This muddy sea—no, this space, can be called the spirit of all daemons. That human-like figure is the part of it that is somewhat orderly, equivalent to the daemons’ consciousness or personality,” the mystic explained. Her voice was stiff.

“So, that humanoid thing is the King of Daemons…”

It was as I expected, or actually, in the end, it didn’t seem like the daemons’ consciousness was capable of mutual communication. Even if the daemons did all share a single mind, humans understanding it was a separate issue.

However, how was the mystic going to get information out of something so alien?

 

***

 

“It looks like something will happen soon.”

“Oh?”

We crouched in the shadows of rocks to hide our presence from the King of Daemons. I don’t think it was because it heard our voices, but the giant figure started to slowly lift its head.

“Raaah… Raaagh…”

So, that was the voice of the King of Daemons? I couldn’t really distinguish it from the sound of the waves and the wind. Droning its eerie call, it started to shake its human-like head. Two fathomless black holes opened on its skull (maybe eye sockets) and focused on something.

The sky (if that’s what it was) was constantly changing color from gray to earthen and back. The part that the King of Daemons focused on started to quiver, and soon morphed into a meaningful shape.

“Is that…me?!”

In the corner of the sky (I’m calling it that) where the King of Daemons was focusing, a black and white figure appeared.

It was the inside of a cave somewhere. A robed man was holding a staff. It was a familiar figure…me. The perspective shifted to a nearby aristocrat who was screaming and carrying on, and then to an altar made from the corpses of daemons.

“Those are the memories of the daemons. When the daemons ‘remember’ scenes of the past, these black and white images appear.”

“If these are memories…and all daemons share a consciousness, then they all have the same memory.”

If I traced my own memory back, this must have been when I was battling Baron Corbal in Relis City. And if Baron Corbal was also there…

“So that’s the memory of the daemonist priest?”

The priest was the only one who could have created a memory from that perspective. That meant that some daemonists could share their memories with daemons.

In one corner of the sky, the mouth of the baron, filled with despair, grew even bigger. That mouth opened and closed over and over again.

“Margilus! Margilus!”

I’d thought they were only images with no sounds, but there was a voice that was neither human nor mechanical in the wind, calling my name.

“Margilus! Margilus!”

“I, too, saw this memory in which your name was spoken. After this, an image of an Epicenter deep in the valley of the Endless Forest appeared. That’s where the misunderstanding happened…”

But for some reason, the image that played back in the sky was not of Baron Corbal and me fighting. This same image of the baron calling my name played back over and over again.

Was it possible that the priest’s memory had been edited, so that the mystic would see it?

 

***

 

“Oh, look.”

As I was thinking to myself, the towering humanoid tilted its round, protruding head in a way that felt deeply…unrealistic. A different image appeared, as if he had been adjusting his line of vision.

“What is it this time…?”

This image was drawn with a light contrast, like an ink painting. It was a scene in which an army of daemons got wiped out by a huge explosion.

“Is this…the battle at Filsand?”

The image continued to play in gloomy shades.

There was a scene where an imp was blown to dust. There was a scene in which a fiend, crawling on the ground, was tossed in the air by a giant’s broom. In one scene, a fallen gigant’s head was looking up at a horse floating in the sky. There was a man in robes riding on that horse.

It was me.

“From the perspective of the daemons, I’m a bad guy…”

“Raaaagh…!”

“Margilus! Margilus!”

At some point, the monitor in the sky showed me from a number of different angles. The call of the King of Daemons, dripping with hatred for me, filled the air.

“I’m the one who destroyed the daemonic legion and their nests…”

From my research so far, there was no way that daemons could recognize an individual. For example, on a battlefield, daemons might behave in a way that targeted a strong warrior or commanders. But, that was only a reaction to the human’s role. It was the same as how no matter how much humans observed ants, even if they could distinguish the soldier ants from the worker ants, they couldn’t tell the difference between individuals.

I thought about this strange place and the intentions of the daemons while huddling with the elf maiden in the shadow of the rocks. I directed my questions to her.

“Actually seeing this place makes me realize… The daemons are far too different from us. Even if they are aware of me as an individual, isn’t it a bit unnatural for a daemon to come up with a strategy of manipulating information in order to defeat me? It’s just too human.”

“I think so, too. But—”

“You’re both right.”

Out of nowhere, there came a third voice.

Surprised, we looked up and saw something that we hadn’t even sensed approaching. It was another humanoid. This one was pure white. Completely monochrome. It didn’t have eyes or a mouth, but there was definitely a voice coming from its head…a human voice.

“Welcome.” It spoke pleasantly. “How very nice to meet you. The Great Wizard Geo Margilus, here at last.”

Its entire body was smooth and without definition. It clearly had limbs and a head, but there was no sign of a human-like skeleton. The size was just barely within the human range.

It was a completely stark white…thing. If I’d come across something like this while walking at night on Earth, I definitely would’ve fainted.

“I do apologize for my appearance.” The thing continued to speak as if it had a mouth. It was a young voice.

“Wh-who are you?!” The elf maiden asked in a sharp voice, jumping in front of me, as if to protect me.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be telling you my name. I’m just an old daemonist,” the monochrome thing bowed elegantly to accompany its cheeky response. A daemonist? So that meant it was once a human (although there was also the possibility of dwarf or elf). Just based on its appearance, I didn’t get the sense that it was one of those urban legend monsters. Humans probably looked like this at times.

“I see…” No sense dwelling on logic. We were in an ominous place outside the boundaries of the human world. It would be better to talk to this daemonist than to try and take on the King of Daemons. It towered over the muddy sea like a mountain.

“So, are you the man behind the curtain?” I asked him.

“M-me? No way.” He laughed at my question, looking over at me.

Mmm. I didn’t really even know what curtain I was talking about. For the time being, I just figured I would toss out questions and try to fish for information. I had calmed down enough to try that much, at least.

“It’s not that dramatic. Well, except I did actually have a hand in the information manipulation you mentioned before,” the monochrome thing replied. There was no way to confirm if he was telling the truth, but I decided to believe him for now.

Setting that aside, what should I be doing with this man in front of me? I should probably try to get as much information that we don’t know about the daemons as possible.

“Then let me ask you—”

“Lord Wizard,” the mystic warned me, grabbing hold of my robes. “You shouldn’t get involved with such a dubious monster…”

“No, let’s think of this as a great opportunity.”

She was right. it was dubious and dangerous. But if we didn’t get this information now, then I didn’t know why we were there in the first place. This might be something I was never supposed to see, but still.

“Well that’s a relief to hear,” the monochrome monster said, amused.

“There is a lot I want to ask you. First of all, do you have considerable influence over the daemons? For example, are you able to start and stop brood events?”

“Heh heh…” His monochrome body shook at my question. It seemed he was laughing. However, if the answer was yes, then there was something I had to do no matter what. “You’re overestimating me. The only influence I have is being able to direct a smidgen of their consciousness and memory. Basically, we are their followers and servants.”

“So, that means you help encourage activities that open Epicenters so the daemons can destroy the humans as quickly as possible?”

“I do believe I detect some resentment in your voice, but in a nutshell, that’s right.”

I felt nothing but resentment. But that discussion was for another day. “I’ve always wanted to ask a daemonist… The daemons are supposed to destroy all humans, right? Even if you had a good experience using the daemons’ power temporarily, as a human, you will eventually be destroyed, too, right?”

There was silence.

Somewhere along the line, the mystic had stopped complaining, and was now attentively listening to our discussion. Her green eyes were full of both nervousness and interest. Who wouldn’t be interested?

His answer to the question was simple. “Well, of course. Your point being?”

“So you want both humans and yourself to be destroyed?”

“Naturally. Daemonists hate humans—themselves included!—and this world. We hate everything, from the bottom of our hearts. We hate humanity so much we can’t stand it… That’s the kind of person who becomes a daemonist.” The monochrome monster spread his arms and spoke proudly. I’d thought that I might get somewhere with him, but he was bonkers.

But I couldn’t give up yet. He seemed to be moving around here freely, and had some sort of influence over the King of Daemons, so he must be a central figure among the daemonists.

“So, is there really no room for discussion or compromise? For example, completely separating the daemon and human realms so they don’t come in contact…?”

“Oh, come now, Geo! You want to have a discussion, after personally slaughtering over ten thousand daemons?” He spat out his words in a spiteful tone. “You think this is a negotiation?”

“The daemons were invading. We just defended ourselves. But…if apologizing for the slaughter will help smooth things over, then I will.”

Although I felt indignation, I brushed it aside and continued the conversation. I knew how I would respond in the worst-case scenario. But I didn’t want to use that option yet.

“Hah! Easy, Geo. I’m just joking. The daemons don’t care if they are killed. To them, it feels like nothing more than a mosquito bite. However, the great wizard bit too hard to be a mere bug.” The monochrome being raised his fingerless hands in the air and gestured to the King of Daemons.

“Raaahhh… Raaagh…!”

The eerie sound echoed in my bones. At first, I thought it might be the sound of the wind, but when I listened closer, I clearly understood that it was a voice of hatred.

“It’s truly angry…but I don’t see any chance of raising a Daemon Calix to open an Epicenter anytime soon. It’s quite a problem.”

I wondered if he was finally speaking some truth. If he was, it meant that there wouldn’t be any large-scale daemon broods for a while…

“Now, I’ve answered most of your questions, right? Might I ask something now? I’ve been waiting a very long time for this.” The monstrous daemonist took a step closer. What did he want to ask me?

“That’s fine. I’ll answer if I can.”

“Just one question, your lordship.” The monochrome being bowed pretentiously once again. “How about you join us, so we can wipe out all the humans together?”

 

***

 

“You want me to become a daemonist?”

“Whether or not you become a daemonist is up to you. What matters is that you use those meteors of yours to blow up as many towns and villages as you can.”

I didn’t answer.

I’d only half-anticipated that question. Of course, the only possible answer was no, but I wanted to keep the conversation going and get some more information.

“What is the benefit to me in joining forces with you?”

“The only benefit is…you won’t be destroyed immediately.”

“Huh?!”

A crescent-shaped imperfection opened on his monochrome face.

It was a smile.

“Lord Wizard!”

As if the mystic’s sharp voice was a signal, “they” appeared on cue. Behind the daemonist, ugly, human-like figures started floating toward us across the shore of muddy waves. What had started out as one or two figures rapidly filled the shore, forming an army.

The colors of their bodies kept changing, rapidly oscillating from red-brown to jet black and gray. But they were unmistakably daemons.

“Gaaah, gaaah, graah…”

“Greee…”

“Muh…Mar…Margil…”

The army of daemons lined up behind their monochrome master like a wall. One of them was clearly calling my name.

“Baron Corbal…?”

There was a small imp with two horns and a slender, twisted body. Its face was none other than…Baron Corbal’s. The man I’d fought with in Relis City. His soul had been trapped in this place.

“Death here is death of the soul. Even if you don’t die, but are trapped here, your physical body in the real world will be rendered comatose.” The monochrome daemonist explained it to me very nicely, perhaps because he wanted me to understand just how much of a disadvantage I was at here.

“Mana doesn’t work inside the spirit of a daemon. Lord Margilus, perhaps you have already learned special sorcery from the The Meaning of Life, but that power is useless here.”

Huh? He was misunderstanding.

He was probably talking about my knowledge of “magic,” as he’d heard about it from daemonists I’d fought like Baron Corbal, or from daemons. He didn’t know I had a whole different kind.

Well, that was convenient…

“I’m sorry, it’s a huge decision. Please give me some time to think about it.” My face probably looked distressed. I raised one hand to hide it and retreated.

“Gi-gaaa… Gah, graah!”

“Gi-geee… Gi-geee…”

A swarm of daemons large enough to block my line of sight was approaching, as inevitable as gravity.

“You’ve talked enough. I’m perfectly fine with turning you into a vegetable right here and now.” The daemonist might not have had a face, but he looked irritated all the same.

“L-Lord Wizard? Is that possible?” The mystic looked back at me, concerned.

I really did want more time, and it wasn’t a lie that the decision was a big one. But the decision I was talking about was a very different one than what our pale host had in mind.

While weakly raising one hand to hide my mouth, I’d started forcefully chanting a spell.

There were two problems. One was the ethical issue. The spell I was about to use had inhumane effects, and I’d never wanted to use it in my entire life.

The other was a more serious issue. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to use this spell inside the spirit world of a daemon. As a test, I’d gone into my inner world once, right after going through the door. So now I knew something the monster didn’t: I could cast my spells here.

 

***

 

“It’s heavier than usual…”

I became my imagined self in my inner world—the internal me that my true self imagined—while I was already imagining myself in the consciousness of a daemon. It was like I was seeing a dream inside of a dream (and only with conscious effort).

That awkwardness expressed itself as a tangible weight.

For example, normally, in my inner world, the lantern light shone five meters in diameter. However, the light I had in my hand now only showed me what was right in front of my eyes. After that was darkness. Just imagining what was ten centimeters around me required so much concentration that I thought my brain cells would burst. I suppose that was to be expected, since my brain was being forced to work more than twice as hard as normal.

“The eighth level sure is far…”

Both my head and body felt heavy, and I couldn’t see well. I went through the Gate of Magic and down the spiral staircase, feeling as if I was walking underwater.

The heaviness intensified as I went down the levels. I thought my brain would fry just trying to maintain my imagined self; I was in no condition to climb stairs.

Somehow, I managed to make it to the eighth-level spellbook archive. I opened the heavy door—it felt like it had rusted—and approached the charged books on the nine pedestals within.

“I’m going to see if I can use this here…”

I pointed to the book I had in mind and started to release the chaotic energy in the form of magical power. The book responded to my chanting, lighting up and changing into two ten-sided dice. One was white and the other was black. They were the familiar percentage dice.

“Argh… My head!”

While enduring the terrible headache, I threw the dice onto the pedestal. Now, as long as the execution doesn’t fail…

Clack. Clack.

The white die bounced on the pedestal and landed on zero. And then the black die…also rolled zero.

“Huh?”

It was a fumble.

Fwoooooo!

The dice became a vortex of dazzling light and went berserk.

When normal spells ended in a fumble, it only meant one wasted spell. But here, in the inner world of an inner world, and a special environment at that, the runaway chaotic energy swelled infinitely, swallowing up whatever was around it. This was just a temporary space created by my consciousness in a corner of the sea of chaos. The collapse of that space meant that my consciousness itself would soon be swallowed by chaos.

I desperately focused my will and tried to fixate on the image of a solid wall, floor, and myself.

“Wh-whoa!”

Me, the archive, everything…into the light…

 

***

 

I was swallowed by the sea of chaos.

Chaos was the root of all possibilities. The majority were negative, but if I could connect to one of the rare positives, there was a slim hope of returning to reality.

I desperately tried to maintain my form.

I am an ordinary, forty-two-year-old bachelor who works in an office. I commute to work by bus every morning, work without excessive overtime or stress, play computer games at night, and sometimes dabble in making TTRPG rulebooks and supplements that honestly have no shot at commercial success…

I was a junior high school student born into a poor family. I spent as much as time as possible in the classroom alone, bought only one piece of bread for lunch, and had a secret part-time job at night.

I was a private detective in America in the 1900s. A frightened young man asked me to investigate the strange phenomenon that occurred in the house of his uncle who’d suddenly died. I headed to a town in Massachusetts with a congenial newspaper reporter and a bored doctor…

I was one of the adventurers based on the frontier. With fellow bandits, monks, and warriors, I stamped out the goblins and fished for treasures left in the ruins…

No, wait. That wasn’t right.

I am Geo Margilus, a powerful wizard who transmigrated to Sedia from Japan.

I am the Great Wizard Geo Margilus.

I am Lord Geo Margilus.

I am Geo.

Who am I?

What am I?

Me?

I—

 

***

 

“Geo!”

 

***

 

I responded to that voice, coming from so far away.

There was a stone tower. In that room, a girl with chestnut hair was picking something up off the floor. It was a piece of parchment.

“A character sheet?”

A lot of numbers and terms that the girl was unfamiliar with were written in small letters on the parchment. But there was also a part that she could understand. It was the text under “Character Name.”

Is this…Geo’s? the girl thought when she looked at the parchment.

“I wonder how Geo’s doing.”

The name that the girl recognized on the parchment was “Geo Margilus.”

I was the one written on that sheet.

 

***

 

Me.

To be precise, my consciousness had returned to the eighth-level spellbook archive of the inner world within the inner world. The book I’d tried to use just now—had I really tried to use it?—had failed, and yet there it was there on its pedestal as if nothing had ever happened.

It seemed I’d come back from the chaos at a slightly different time than I’d left it, so that made sense.

“Ugh.”

A huge amount of information was swirling around in my brain, stuffed in there from when I’d become a man without a name, without a self, blanked out of the world. That man desperately scrabbled to retain the information that would probably go foggy a few seconds later. The truths of the universe, the meaning of human existence, the reason why life was born. I knew the answer to every mystery in the world…but…damn, now it was all gone!

No…there was a small amount of that information left in my brain. It was the appearance of the world, as I’d seen it, apart from the constraints of time. The world was beginning and ending simultaneously. All the worlds were the same, in the sense that they were born and destroyed along the predefined rails of time. I also remembered that I already knew the world as it was.

I remembered that life was what we called a “story.”

 

***

 

“Uh, can you get it together, please? I’m not going to wait any longer for your answer.”

In the spirit world of the daemons, the monochromatic daemonist held up his hand. It was the moment of his final ultimatum. At that same time, I was deep in my own inner world, trying once again to release the chaotic energy condensed into a book.

“As a consequence of this spell, the soul of the being at whom I aim my hand shall serve me and be mine to control. Mind Control!”

PA-KRISH!

There was a sound like ice being crushed. It was the sound of the dozens of silvery-white glass tentacles shooting out from around my feet.

The glass tendrils stretched out swiftly, instantly wrapping around the daemonist’s smooth, white body.

“Wh-what is this?! Sorcery?! No!”

The mystic was still hanging on. “Lord Wizard!”

The pure white monster kicked and struggled, trying to break free. But the power of the glass tentacles (or the energy of the spell they embodied) was too strong, and soon he couldn’t move.

“It’s a spell that dominates the spirit of the target and forces subservience.”

“You don’t have that power…”

“I never wanted to use this spell…”

The Rank 8 spell Mind Control was the mightiest spell to affect your opponent’s spirit. Unlike Curse, the subject of the spell did not realize that they were under an enchantment, and always swore absolute allegiance to the magician. You couldn’t go as far as to make the subject commit suicide, but all other behavior, even going against their own beliefs or principles, was allowed under the rules.

It was really just brainwashing. It was undoubtedly an evil act to manipulate a human spirit using these spells in a game, let alone real life. When I’d learned that the ritual of prophecy meant infiltrating the spirit world of the daemons, I’d prepared this just in case it was possible…

“Thank god… I think…”

Just this one time, given the opponent, I had no other choice. Or at least that’s what I told myself.

 

***

 

“Oh! Uh… Muh…Margilus…”

Many glass tentacles had penetrated the monochrome being’s head. It was a grotesque sight, but I already felt that the power of my spell controlling his soul.

“First, make these daemons stand down! Next…your name and position. You’ll tell me everything.”

The duration of Mind Control was permanent until the spell was broken. There was tremendous value in having a high-ranking daemonist as a servant.

“A-as you comma—”

A voice of despair dripped from its slash of a mouth, now turned down pathetically. It might even be possible to exterminate all the daemonists right here and now. It would be a great achievement, even if it was impossible to fully suppress the generation of daemons.

Just then, I turned my attention to a small but strong glimmer of hope.

“You cannot control me!”

“Huh?!”

Its mouth grew and grew, becoming a gaping abyss. Even though his white body was being ripped apart by the glass tentacles, he raised both arms high in resistance.

Before I could grasp what was happening…

“Graaargh!”

The swarm of daemons had retreated a bit…but far behind him, there it was. The towering giant turned his face this way. The King of Daemons looked upon us.

He swung his hand, which was as large as a castle or even a town, down upon us.

 

***

 

This was the daemons’ spirit world.

In this unique realm, the concept of size was almost completely irrelevant. However, when something that covered your entire line of vision was dropping down upon you at high speed, it was terrifying.

If this was the real world, my flesh and I would’ve both been pulverized in an instant.

Instead, we were subsumed within a sea of warm, sticky mucus. Apparently, the giant humanoid (or its fingertip) had swallowed us whole. I could barely make anything out, but I could see a bit and I could breathe.

The swarm of daemons that had filled the shore had already been crushed and assimilated. Only the elf maiden and myself, clinging together, remained in our original forms. And then…I could see the pure white daemonist, still restrained by my glass tentacles.

“Ah! Aaaagh!”

He screamed ceaselessly, twisting his body into strange contortions. His spirit-body was slowly slipping free from the tentacles, the embodiment of the Mind Control spell.

The spell’s power worked perfectly. However, it wouldn’t be of any use if his spirit-body lost all form. He was trying to assimilate with the King of Daemons, too.

“Stop it! I will not allow you to die!”

“This is not death! It’s just changing the state of my spirit… Although my body in reality will die during the transition…or so I think.”

He’d probably decided to destroy his spirit before being completely brainwashed by the power of the spell.

“Before you disappear, tell me! Where is your home base? What do you do there?!”

“I don’t know! Even if I’m gone…the daemons will come! The third brood event is less than ten years away!” Cackling in hatred, shamelessly exuding malice and spite, the daemonist’s monochrome body crumbled apart. As he vanished, his last words echoed. “Suffer and despair!”

Without anyone left to control, the tentacles disappeared as well.

“This…?”

I watched the monochrome body melt away into the surrounding mucus, resigned to my fate…but then I cried out in surprise. I realized that the mystic and I were surrounded by a strong, silvery-white barrier.

“It’s the Mind Wall spell that I used before the ritual.”

“So, this light is protecting us.”

Mind Wall, as the name suggests, has the effect of blocking all mental attacks. Without this protection, we would have been swallowed by the body of the King of Daemons in the same way as the daemonist, and lost our souls.

 

***

 

“Our work here is done. I think we should be heading back, what do you think?”

“I agree… It certainly was a strange experience.”

I didn’t know how to respond when a mystic who’d performed this ritual for five hundred years said something like that. Anyway, we’d achieved our original objective, uncovered the mechanism of the prophecy, and also eliminated the culprit (even if it was just their spirit).

I’d also determined that at this point in time it was impossible to communicate with the King of Daemons. This wasn’t an issue of the evilness or intelligence of the daemons, but how purely alien they were from human thought.

Now all we had to do was get back safely.

“Right…” I saw the spool that the mystic held in one hand. In the space of the muddy sea, that red thread was clearly stretching to a higher place. When we gently tugged on it, it slowly lifted our bodies into the air.

 

***

 

“Lord! My lord!”

It was a voice I was very familiar with. The desperation in that voice brought my consciousness back to reality.

And somehow, I knew this was the real world. I looked at the darkening sky. I looked at the entrance to the cave. There was a large, soft, living thing clinging to my chest as I lay on my back.

“Reyha!”

“Oh…my lord!”

It was my faithful dark elf. It seemed like she was trying to cover me up with her body, as she moved her face right up to mine. There were tears in her purple eyes. In her hand was a red thread that she’d wrapped around her hand so many times that her skin had grown discolored.

“Did you notice? It was great. It was really great,” Reyha mumbled, her face buried in my chest.

Sedam sounded bored. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about, but it sounds like it one hell of a great adventure. Good work.”

When I moved my face, while stroking Reyha’s head, the women of the warrior clan came to care for us.

So, we were safe for now.

“Lord Wizard. Please rest.” Even the superhuman beauty of the mystic showed signs of fatigue and relief.

 

***

 

Luckily, neither the mystic nor I were particularly upset.

When the mystic and the warrior clan examined the cornerstone, or rather, the corpse of the daemon in the cave, they found that it seemed to have collapsed in on itself and was rapidly decaying. The cause was not clear, but for now, rituals of prophecy could no longer take place.

Incidentally, the ESP Medal was also warped, as if it had nearly melted in a powerful heat, and could no longer be used.

The mystic remained stoic. “If we were able to influence the spirit of the daemon that strongly, then perhaps this outcome was inevitable.”

 

***

 

“To think that such a mythical adventure could take place in the current day. Although you’re practically a walking myth yourself, now that I think about it.”

We were recuperating in the spartan quarters we’d borrowed from the warrior clan. When Sedam heard about everything, his expression was a mixture of admiration and envy.

“I keep turning the whole thing over in my head, and even though it sounds like a nightmare, I still wish I’d gone with you.”

“If I have to go through that again, you’re definitely coming.”

That said, I hoped I would never have to experience it again. And the cornerstone had disappeared. I felt a bit worried about what might happen to the warrior clan going forward.

“I am just relieved from the bottom of my heart that you are safe, my lord. If something had happened to you, I wouldn’t know what to say to your fiancée and her sister…”

“Well,” I told Reyha, “from what Sedam tells me, it’s only thanks to you that I was able to return safely.”

As Sedam told it, a few hours after the mystic and I had gone into the cave, the red thread had started being pulled by some incredible force. Reyha and the attendants desperately had held the thread strong, until we both came flying out of the cave.

I shuddered to think of what might have happened if Reyha had given up and let go of the thread.

“Anyway,” said Sedam. “Do you think your adventure produced satisfactory results?”

It hit me all at once. “Oh yeah! I learned something amazing!”

“Really?!”

How could I have forgotten? I grabbed Sedam’s shoulders. He would definitely be surprised to hear the truth of this horrifying world.

“What did you learn?”

“Listen! The world—”

“The world…?”

“Wait a second…” What was it? Wait! It was extremely important information. I couldn’t have forgotten it! Wait…

“I can’t say it perfectly, but I definitely learned some important information. It was worth the danger.”

Yes. That was it. The allegations against me were completely cleared. The daemonist had been manipulating information. Clearing this up was big. I’d also learned that some of the daemonists were interfering with the consciousness of the daemons. Most of all, the final words of that white monster…

“The third brood event…a massive outpouring of daemons… It’s going to happen within the next ten years!”

Even though the daemonist had resisted me, it would’ve been difficult for him to lie to the wizard controlling him. In other words…

“From now on, there will be fewer daemonists that open up random Epicenters to summon daemons. Maybe none at all.”

“But it’s only a reprieve. A brood event will occur within the next ten years.”

“Ahhh…”

Sedam and I looked at each other and sighed.

 

***

 

“If you killed a senior daemonist, then that’s wonderful,” said one of the elders. Eads, I think his name was. “Even making him into a vegetable is nearly as good.”

A day had passed.

I’d reported on the situation to the Council of Elders in their tent. There were deep lines on Eads’s face, but he had a fearless smile.

“Although I do apologize, since it seems I’ve ruined a traditional ritual of the warrior clan.” I bowed upon the carpet on which I sat. The warriors present, the mystic, the three elders, and Canberils all took in breaths.

“Lift your head. The mystic explained that point to us already. We’re convinced it was unavoidable,” said Caraon, the plump elder.

“I appreciate your saying so.” I knew the mystic would try to apologize to me, so I obediently raised my head.

I understood her point about me being the victim and how she should be apologizing to me, but it was a sign of respect for the clan that had fought off the daemons for five hundred years.

Elder Dalegilo rubbed at his chin. “It certainly is a disadvantage to no longer be able to use the ritual…”

“But with more information on the daemonists and the coming brood, we can investigate even further than before,” said Canberils calmly.

I was grateful for that sentiment, but when I’d first visited them, they’d said that they absolutely must not lose the power of prophecy. What had changed their attitude?

“I don’t know when it started, but to think that the prophecy ritual was being controlled by daemonists… That means even if the ritual were to resume, the same crisis might recur.”

“If that’s the case, then we don’t need the prophecy.”

“This is the collective decision of the Council of Elders.”

The three elders and the warlord all sat up straight and bowed.

“You have become great warriors. You inspire me to labor even more deeply for the warrior clan.” The elf maiden smiled, her words as gentle as ever.

 

***

 

That is how I won the trust of the elders of the warrior clan and their mystic.

I proposed having them join my alliance, but the elders responded firmly. “It would be detrimental to your cause to form an alliance with the feared and loathed warriors.” The way they said it so calmly nearly brought tears to my eyes.

I didn’t agree with their assessment, but I wasn’t going to change everything overnight. For now, I’d at least managed to get them to be a silent partner with the alliance.

After shaking each of the three elders’ hands, the black-haired elf maiden said, “Please tell all my children to be good.”

 

***

 

They took us back on the Moonlight Ship. I wanted them to fly us all the way to the castle on their surprisingly powerful jellyfish-powered boat, but they refused to let the cat out of the bag on one of their biggest secrets.

“Ahh…home at last. Hmm? What’s this?”

I went through the gate to the front of the main tower. When I looked around there, I found the barracks, residential buildings, and main tower all surrounded by scaffolding, with dwarves and laborers hard at work.

Most notably, the main tower was covered with a large cloth that rendered it almost invisible. I’d thought the upper courtyard construction was supposed to be mostly complete.

“Welcome home, Master Margilus!”

“You must be tired!”

“Mmm.”

While my head was still tilted to the side in consideration, everyone from the castle came out to greet me. As I started talking about the trip, they kneeled.

“Umm, everyone? While I was gone…” Feeling their gazes, full of respect and trust, I thought I had to say something meaningful. But I couldn’t find the words.

“M-Margilus? What are you doing back so early?!”

Beyond the kneeling soldiers and servants, I heard a familiar angry voice, coming from a blonde sorceress. Her blue eyes were open wide with excitement. She looked equal parts surprised and angry.

“I came home, Clara.”

“Uh, well, this…”

She looked to me, then to the construction, and back to me again, her face bright red.

What was it?

When I’d departed, I hadn’t known how long the trip would take, and I’d said it would probably be a month or two. Even so, why was she complaining about me coming home early?

Could it be…? I thought of those insecticide commercials back in Japan. The song goes that the husband works hard and makes money and has to leave the house.

No, it couldn’t be that. I wasn’t even a husband.

“Clara? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Er. No, not really… It’s nothing. Welcome home.” Clara waved her hands around to avoid my question. There was something, though. It was there written on her red face.

“Be honest. Is there a problem?”

“I told you it was nothing. And I’m busy now, so I’ll see you later.”

“Hey, wait…” As usual, I was powerless to stop her.

Clara spun on her heel. Her blonde hair fluttered as she jogged away.

“What in the world was that?” I looked around me. That’s when I realized that everyone in the castle had watched that whole exchange.

“Ahhh…”

“Poor Clara…” For some reason, all these people who adored me were taking Clara’s side. Particularly the women. I got the feeling they thought I was to blame for something.

“Umm, Geo… Er, Mister Geo?” It was the one and only Mora, in her maid’s uniform, pulling on my sleeve as I looked up to the sky.

Mora gestured that I should lean down, so I did and she whispered in my ear.

“Clara was reforming the castle while you were away, and she planned to greet you with a coat of arms.”

“Coat of arms?”

“The coat of arms for you and the castle! She said you need it for diplomacy. A letter came from Elisabel asking about it. You can’t make the right impression without one!”

In other words, it was my personal mark. My lordly signature.

Indeed, it wasn’t so strange that I would have something like that as lord of a territory. Actually, I needed one.

But since I’d come back before the coat of arms was finished, it wasn’t her mistake. She shouldn’t be upset about it…

“Ugh. That’s not the problem.”

“Huh?”

Mora was frowning at my response. I looked at her adorable face, and then something came to me. “That’s it. Mora, thank you. You saved me.”

“Huh?!”

I didn’t know exactly why I was doing it, but I stroked Mora’s hair over and over. For some reason, I had an overwhelming sense of gratitude toward her. “You’re always saving me.”

“Umm, Geo! I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re wrong. You need to go. I mean I’m happy, but—”

“Margilus!” While I was talking to Mora for the first time in what felt like forever, Clara’s voice interrupted us. At some point, she’d ended up at the top of the tower.

“What’s wrong, Clara? You don’t have to feel bad…”

“Feast your eyes on this!” As Clara yelled out from the roof, she kicked the fastener of the cloth that was covering the tower. The cloth caught in the wind and peeled away from the roof.

“Stars…and a book?”

On the wall was a beautiful engraving of the coat of arms. The pattern was a shining polar star and an open book.

“The guiding star…” Suddenly, I realized Lade was next to me.

“It is the star of hope shown to those who are lost in the dark.” Reyha was naturally already behind him.

“It is the guardian star that gives wisdom to wanderers and adventurers like us who have no home,” Sedam explained, standing next to Lade.

“A star of power! The wrath of the heavens to purify all evil! This is our Castle Getaeus’s coat of arms!” Clara put both hands on her hips and puffed up her chest as she called out. She was like a heroine out of a book. Hey, that’s my coat of arms.

“You really took the look of this place to the next level…”

“Geo, this castle gives us all hope!”

Mora looked up at me as I patted her on the head. Her small hands, which grabbed the hem of my robes, were getting more scabbed each day. Mora and my other companions…they never found hope only in my powers. The people of Sedia will gather here with me and face the daemons. That is hope.

“Margilus,” Ild said to me. “Say something.” He looked gravely serious.

Maybe it was because of the adventure I’d just finished within the realm of the daemons’ spirit…but I grew awfully sentimental.

My friends thought that coat of arms suited me. I was so glad that everyone trusted me. I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

“Y-yes…I should.”

The soldiers, servants, dwarves, Schultz clan, warrior clan, students, and dark elves had all gathered. They applauded and cheered. In ten years, the third brood event might come. What could I do until then?

My face felt heavy. The proper, inspiring speech just wouldn’t come. Tears running down my cheeks, I spoke the words that rang truest in my heart. “Thank you, everyone…”

I didn’t know what was right. But I would forge ahead, nervous and trembling. As long as I was here with my friends, my story would continue.