novelraw Chapter 141 : Chapter 141
Chapter 141 : Chapter 141
Chapter 141: Mixed Colors (5)
The landscape had been defiled—sickened spirits, and souls that, after being offered up as sacrifices, had fallen into wraiths.
That must have been why they cursed this place. After they cursed it, divine punishment descended. The destruction of the fishing village that worshiped monsters—Portsmouth—was not the will of the Mother God. From the beginning, the Mother God did not know. From the domain of the Main Gods, looking down upon the world was too distant, too detached. She knew neither that place’s location nor the evils that held sway over it.
[O traveler who walks the path.]
Perhaps because of that.
Gazing at the Mother God, Monika thought.
There was not a grain of emotion in the Mother God’s voice. It was like the earth hardened in silence. There was neither compassion nor even a trace of anger.
[I am the Mother God, ‘Ivensina.’ As you know, I am the head of the Pantheon, and I preside over circulation, inevitability, and birth.]
Look at the beings you face.
The Mother God whispered thus.
[They cannot enter the cycle.]
Beside the Mother God, the sickened spirits surged.
They glided weakly, glowing red.
[Spirits are the smallest beings in the world. They wander across the land, breathing vitality into nature. At times, they even harden into nature itself. And so I wonder.]
Why, why are they sick?
The Mother God asked, spreading her arms—
-We saw.
The sickened spirits flew toward Monika.
They circled her busily, whispering. Voices of spirits that should not have been heard spilled forth in a torrent.
-We saw the dirt fields stained with blood.
-We saw corpses rotting beneath the water.
-Humans defiled the nature we shaped.
-It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
-We saw humans killing humans, and because of that, our land rotted.
Why?
Why must the nature of Portsmouth be purified?
That was what the spirits were asking. Should land stained with sin not be erased?
Monika could not answer the spirits’ question.
[And furthermore, they…….]
Suddenly, the Mother God spoke.
Behind her, wraiths flickered.
[They did not die by inevitability.]
Is that not so?
The Mother God asked Monika.
[Wraiths are the fate of souls that could not be soothed. Unable to find the road to the Underworld, they wander, until at last they even forget the fact that they are dead. Their resentment remains vivid, causing them to mistake themselves for the living.]
Why, why did they become wraiths?
The Mother God asked, spreading her arms—
-We did not see.
The wraiths’ gazes tilted toward Monika.
Their bodies from when they lived had long since rotted away. And yet the eyes of the wraiths, stained with resentment, were full of vitality.
-We did not see the false faith that gnawed at our homeland.
-We did not see the descendants of those who survived by offering us as sacrifices.
-We wanted to live. We wanted to live too.
-It is unjust, unjust, unjust.
-We did not see the sins that stained our homeland. We died without knowing.
Why?
Why must the residents of Portsmouth live?
That was what the wraiths were asking. Should the descendants of those who committed sins not die?
Monika could not answer the wraiths’ question.
‘It is heavy.’
That was all she thought.
Every question was unbearably burdensome.
At most, it had only been a small fishing village. A land never once deemed important since history began to be recorded. The lives of the residents who lived there must always have been trivial.
But it had gone on for too long. For a long time, innocent people had lost their lives, and the spirits had begun to sicken under false faith.
[As the Mother God, I state this unequivocally.]
How was she supposed to answer?
Biting down on her lower lip, Monika thought.
[They were not born to become this.]
How was she supposed to persuade them?
Monika had no proper way.
From the beginning, she did not know in detail. The time they had endured.
She had only glimpsed their memories through Pnakotic’s Sensory Stone.
[Divine punishment is my will, and at the same time the will of all who remain at my side. Therefore, you must answer. You must answer all of them.]
O traveler who walks the path, speak.
Should the land you wish to protect be purified?
Should those who live there be allowed to survive?
To the Mother God’s question—
“I──.”
Just as Monika was about to force out an answer,
<──Of course.>
A small mass of light approached Monika’s side.
It was probably a spirit. Looking at the round, condensed light, Monika thought so—yet she felt uneasy. The voice resonating from the spirit was familiar.
‘……Senior Lizer?’
Lizer Leinhart.
Monika realized that the spirit’s voice was the same as Lizer’s.
[Oh my.]
The Mother God’s eyes narrowed.
A faint crack spread across her previously indifferent expression.
[You are not one who walks the path.]
You are one who makes the path, she murmured, fixing her gaze on Lizer.
[You are certainly a spirit, yet why do you speak as though you are human?]
Explaining it would be a bit complicated, he said.
Circling around Monika, Lizer whispered.
Senior Lizer was a spirit?
Monika thought with her eyes wide open.
It did feel strange in some way. She knew that most mages were eccentrics, but Lizer’s words and actions were, perhaps, like those of a spirit. He sensed emotions that carried no scent, no taste, no sound.
And Monika, you already know the answer, he whispered into her ear.
Monika turned around.
Before she knew it, countless beings had arrived.
They were nothing more than clusters of light, truly easy to scatter.
And yet they were firm. The lights intertwined, taking on human forms. For a moment, Monika wondered who—or what—they were, but it did not take long to realize. They were souls. Souls had come from the Underworld.
The people of Sarrifis.
Their souls had arrived.
And also her deceased parents.
Their souls had arrived as well.
Lightly, a faint being brushed past Monika and moved forward.
She could recognize it without difficulty. A small girl’s afterimage of light stood with her back to Monika. As the Mother God’s form overlapped with the girl’s afterimage—
Monika lowered her head.
She closed her eyes tightly, hiding her face.
She did not know what expression she should make.
Because, the girl’s afterimage said.
Fleur de Saint-Pierre said—
***
“──Of course!”
Of course, of course, of course.
Gritting his teeth, Demian muttered.
He took a step forward. Excruciating pain spread from his twisted ankle joint. After spitting out the grains of sand coating his mouth, he tightened his grip on the sword hilt that had been slipping from his hand. Demian advanced toward the vigilantes who had turned their backs on him.
“I know, Er.”
The code of chivalry would be useless here.
Chivalry was the exclusive privilege of those who could afford it.
Demian whispered as much.
“They say to protect the weak, but those who are truly weak cannot stand beside knights. They survived in places we did not know.”
Slide.
Demian extended his arm.
He grabbed one vigilante by the shoulder and dragged him back as he moved forward.
-Hey, kid! That is enough!
-I do not know how strong you are, but how do you expect to fight in that state?
-You are still young. Even if we are done for, you have to survive…….
No, no, no.
Ignoring the vigilantes’ voices, Demian straightened himself.
“Then are the weak simply weak?”
Demian sharpened his gaze.
Barely holding his stance, he glared at the swarm of banshees.
“That was not even true. Sometimes, because they are weak, they end up committing sins. Then should we punish them all? I do not know. Who should be saved, and who should be punished—those are not things that can be decided by a knight’s code.”
I know. I know it.
Demian muttered.
“Only…….”
“……Yes.”
Suddenly, Ernst’s voice reached Demian’s mind.
At the same time, a mass of light brushed past him. The wounds staining Demian’s body were being sealed.
My divine power is exhausted.
Ernst sent that message.
Hah.
Demian let out a hollow laugh.
“I have no intention of dying.”
Recognizing reality was easy.
All Demian had felt since arriving here was the harshness of reality. A village that survived by offering up the lives of its residents. A village chief who rationalized false faith and insisted it had been the only way. And a girl playing the role of a miko. Residents who were pious without even realizing they were committing sins, without even realizing they worshiped monsters.
It was impossible to judge them by a knight’s code.
They were people who had lived outside of it.
“I want to believe.”
If the knightly code he had believed in until now was an illusion, then another proper code had to exist. That there must be a code a knight truly ought to uphold.
“Professor Argento seems to believe that chivalry is useless, but…….”
I, Demian muttered, biting down on his lower lip.
“Then I will find it.”
The code I must uphold.
Not a code all knights must uphold, but the code that Knight Demian Fernando von Farenheit will uphold.
“So, everyone.”
Please retreat.
From here on, I will fight alone.
As he muttered that and turned around—
‘This is…….’
Demian’s eyes widened.
The vigilantes were nowhere to be seen.
The beach stained with corpses had vanished as well.
‘……A wall?’
There was only a wall.
An endlessly tall, endlessly solid wall.
Was this a hallucination? Such a place should not exist in the world. It felt as though he had reached the domain of the Pantheon.
Walls forged of platinum blocked Demian in on all sides.
They were covered in countless inscriptions.