novelraw Chapter 129 : Chapter 129
Chapter 129 : Chapter 129
Chapter 129: Four Questions for Mourning (1)
I see.
This is not my gaze.
- Mother, what is the definition of a natural number?
- Mother, what is a multiple of all integers?
- Mother, if a circle is infinitely divided and time is also infinitely divided, what should the angle that comes after 0 degrees be called?
Monika soon understood.
The fact that she was experiencing the past through someone else's five senses.
The owner of the sensory stone must have stored it. The problem was that some pasts felt too vivid. They were recalled as sensations, not as information. Not only did they flicker before her eyes, but she could also feel the smells, tastes, and sometimes even the pain.
- Mother.
- Mother.
Thus, Monika did not move.
Even though she did not move, she was moving.
She saw ahead with someone else's eyes, spoke through someone else's mouth, and reached out her hand through someone else's body.
She was experiencing Pnakotic's life dryly.
From a first-person perspective.
- Please tell me, Mother.
A young elf stood beside her.
No, a half-elf. Ears longer than a human's and shorter than an elf's. That was the physical characteristic of a half-elf.
Pnakotic's memories recorded in the sensory stone were disorganized. It was like a dotted line, not a straight one. There were gaps here and there, so it did not connect smoothly. Nevertheless, Monika thought. That young half-elf must be Pnakotic's daughter.
“Well……”
Pnakotic opened her mouth.
She looked up, stroking her daughter's hair.
The scenery of Portsmouth was in her field of vision. Pnakotic was passing by the entrance of the village with her daughter. At that time, Portsmouth was still beautiful. The sea was blue, and greenery was lush in every gap between the buildings. Just one thing,
“……I'll have to answer you later.”
There was something impertinent.
Like the barnacles that would one day stick to everything, like the humidity that would descend as if to kill the greenery,
“Excuse me!”
A human approaching the village.
It was a woman covered in a robe. On the outside, she looked like an ordinary traveler. The traveler with simple luggage was passing by Pnakotic. Muttering in a small voice, as if talking to someone.
“Are you from out of town?”
“Ah……”
At Pnakotic's question, the outsider smiled.
Her breathing was strange. She was in the body of a young woman, but it was as if an old person was panting for breath.
“That's right. We came from a faraway place.”
Indeed, the woman's voice was that of an old person.
The woman spoke, borrowing the solemn voice of a man.
“Are you a resident of this place? It is a pleasure to meet you.”
The woman's voice changed before long.
To the sly voice of a man.
“Please guide us around the village. If you do, I will give you a teaching.”
Pnakotic blinked blankly.
It seemed as if the souls of other beings had intruded into the woman's body. The woman's voice changed every time she spoke.
“My, do not be afraid.”
This time, the voice of an old woman.
The woman smiled, raising the corners of her mouth.
“We are prophets. The tree, the fire, the water, the iron, and──.”
The woman reached out her hand toward Pnakotic, and,
“──The soil.”
Before long, she made a laughing sound in the voice of a young woman.
A sweet smell. Pnakotic, and Monika, experienced it. The moment the woman grabbed Pnakotic's wrist, a smell gushed out. It was the same as the one she had smelled in the basement of the Naflansee Cathedral. The smell that had emanated when Vincent Tremblay had activated his black magic. Apart from identifying it,
“Please take me to the village chief.”
The woman asked, and Pnakotic nodded.
As if bewitched. Drunk on the sweet fragrance that was so vivid it made her head spin.
***
It must be so.
This must not be my ear.
- Glory to the Sea God Cthanid.
- O sea, please withdraw your wrath!
- There are not enough sacrifices. Select those who are not worthy of living. The Sea God is hungry!
Ernst had understood from the beginning.
The fact that he was experiencing the past through someone else's five senses.
In the middle of the shoddily constructed temple, the residents who had become believers were praying. Towards the still-unfinished statue of Cthanid.
How did it come to this? Pnakotic muttered, leaning against the wall of the temple. It must be because of the outsider. Everything had started at the same time as the visit of the strange outsider. Not only Pnakotic, but Ernst was also convinced of that.
- Lady Pnakotic.
- Lady Pnakotic.
The outsider stayed for a week.
Within a week, the residents of Portsmouth had given their hearts. They had come to follow the outsider fervently. They called her a prophet and begged for teachings, and did not even harbor a shred of doubt while following the outsider's guidance.
- Are we safe now?
Pnakotic tilted her head to the side.
The village chief was standing there. The old village chief had just asked Pnakotic a question.
It had been about two hundred years since the outsider had left. Pnakotic would be able to recite the lineage of the village chief's family without difficulty.
That wasn't all. A certain monster that had spawned in the middle of the sea. The outsider's teaching to give prey to the monster. She remembered clearly the process of that becoming a religion.
“……No.”
Thus, Pnakotic answered.
She opened her mouth, shaking her head.
“What on earth is this.”
Pnakotic bit her lower lip.
Ernst could not see Pnakotic's expression, but he was convinced without difficulty. Pnakotic was horrified.
“The Sea God Cthanid. There is no such thing. What exists in the sea is a monster. You know that too.”
“Of course.”
The village chief nodded once.
Then he continued in a monotonous tone.
“My grandfather said. A prophet who once visited the village taught that we must not forget our sins. That we must not forget, but cherish them and forge them into miracles.”
Nonsense.
Pnakotic muttered as such.
“My father said. If it is difficult to bear, we must flee to the farthest place. That was also a word given by the prophet, wasn't it? I have thought about the meaning of the teachings.”
No, that's not it.
Pnakotic muttered again.
Shaking her head vigorously.
“Only a god can forge a sin into a miracle, and if we must flee to the farthest place, we must go to the side of a god.”
Isn't that so, he asked.
The village chief whispered to Pnakotic.
“Look. The residents seem to be more at ease. It must be because giving prey to a monster and offering a sacrifice to a god feel different.”
If time passes like this, if I have a child, and that child has a child, if such a long time passes,
“I hope that no one will know the true identity of the sea god. Except for my descendants who will inherit the position of village chief, and you, Lady Pnakotic.”
So I ask you.
The village chief muttered as such.
“Will you not cooperate with me.”
“……Shut that mouth.”
Pnakotic took a step forward.
She pushed her way through the fervently praying residents. She shouted with her back to the statue that was not yet complete, and that would be horrifying even if it were completed.
“──Everyone, listen!”
There is no sea god!
There is only a monster!
We are nothing but disgusting survivors!
Pnakotic shouted to everyone.
***
It must be so.
This is not my mouth.
- It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Pnakotic.
- Lady Pnakotic? Can you hear me.
- You do not need to be so wary. I just came to greet you. My name is Robert Olmstead, and I have come of age today.
Demian could only accept it desperately.
The fact that he was experiencing the past through someone else's five senses.
A truly long time had passed. Pnakotic had eventually become a recluse in her dwelling. She no longer associated with the villagers, and just wasted her time in a daze, piling up junk like a mountain.
- Please listen.
- Please listen.
Pnakotic rested her chin on her hand.
She looked up at Robert Olmstead. The young man who would soon become the village chief.
It was different from the face Demian knew. The village chief who had died at Abel's hands, Robert, was still young. The time of the elves continued tediously, but the time of humans changed too quickly. They forgot as they died, and resembled as they were born. In other words, they would repeat the same mistakes.
- I have heard everything from my father. I have just learned the truth of the faith in Cthanid.
One corner of Pnakotic's mouth rose.
Although Robert was young, it was futile.
Because he resembled them. Because he resembled the ancestors who had been born and died for nearly a thousand years.
“What will you do.”
Thus, Pnakotic asked.
With a clear sneer on her lips.
“Will you do as your father did.”
Robert was silent for a moment, then,
- Yes.
He soon nodded.
- The empire will not save us. If so, we have no choice but to save ourselves. I will keep the truth that my father told me a secret.
What a good mindset.
Pnakotic muttered as such.
“I will not interfere. No, I cannot interfere. My attempts to stop you have all failed. Now everyone considers me a mad elf. So get lost.”
I don't want to see you……, a human, she said.
Muttering harshly, Pnakotic turned her head, and,
“……Why.”
She confessed, gritting her teeth.
“Why has it come to this.”
Robert did not answer.
It must be because there was no need to answer. Demian believed so without a doubt. Too much time had passed, and only the old decrees remained. Robert just had to follow them.
“Why……”
Only Pnakotic was left.
She was just questioning alone.
“Why am I alive.”
.
.
.
Meanwhile, on the coast of Portsmouth.
While the table placed on the sandy beach was tilted,
“That is what happened.”
Abel finished his story.
Looking down at Roberta, who was sitting in a chair.
“What happened……”
Roberta blinked.
She had nothing else to say. It was because she had heard too many facts.
Would it have been different if she had touched the sensory stone? Abel's voice was too dry. It felt as if he was reciting a history book. The tragedies recorded in history were countless, and they were all invariably listed coldly. So that one could not grieve, even if several people had died, even if several countries had perished. So that one could not be afraid.
“Is it because I'm the youngest?”
Roberta asked.
Towards Abel, who was rummaging through the inner pocket of his coat.
“Is that why you didn't let me touch the sensory stone?”
“For now, yes.”
Abel answered without hesitation.
To put it bluntly, it would be because she was young. It would be difficult to shake off the emotional turmoil. That was why Abel had conveyed the truth as a story.
“Do not be too upset.”
Plop.
A pocket watch was placed on the table.
Abel gestured to it with his chin.
“Monika is only one year older than you. But she has lived a life that can withstand the memories in the sensory stone. Ernst will not be so agitated either. Demian may have a hard time enduring because of his naivity, but he has reached a time when he must start to overcome it.”
Roberta Sinclair, you are still young.
So I want to discuss it with you from a different perspective.
Saying so, Abel smiled.
“Let's make a bet.”
Until evening comes, how many villagers will come here.
Will they deny the memories in the sensory stone, or will they affirm them.
Will they deny my judgment, or will they affirm it.
“I, of course……”
Abel swept back his hair.
His lusterless silver hair fluttered in the sea breeze.
“I intend to bet on the side of denial.”