novelraw Chapter 63 : Chapter 63
Chapter 63 : Chapter 63
Chapter 63: Exorcism (3)
‘This is troublesome.’
Abel thought, looking behind him.
Corpses chaotically covered the ground. It was the landscape that made up Abel’s soul.
The deaths he had witnessed while traveling through countless worlds. An army that had sworn to fight to the death, a girl who loved to observe insects, a king who had committed suicide for his country, and slaves who had starved to death were all tangled together.
It was too large to be contained in Emilio’s mindscape.
It was like placing a golden pagoda on a water bowl.
‘At this rate, Emilio is in danger.’
Abel suppressed his heart.
Forgetting his regrets was easy. He just had to recall them again. The massive mountain of corpses crumbled away, leaving behind a landscape of only empty margins.
So as not to burden Emilio’s mindscape.
Heraclitus said, clapping his hands.
Abel aimed his gaze at Heraclitus. It was difficult to make out Heraclitus’s face. The flames that made up his body concealed even his expression.
Madman, are you truly human?
Heraclitus asked so.
“I’m the one who wants to ask.”
Abel’s dark blue eyes sharpened.
“What are your identities? How do you know that I am the Sword Saint, and for what reason have you dwelled within Emilio Mackenzie?”
Heraclitus mocked with his inhuman form, then,
“──We are prophets.”
he declared, revealing a human appearance.
A benevolent old man with a dignified smile. It was the true form of Heraclitus, who stood facing Abel. The flames that had been burning all around vanished, and an old man wearing a red robe and a white bishop's mitre appeared.
“This is unfamiliar. To reveal the form I had in my mortal days…”
It was the attire of a cardinal.
Heraclitus was greeting Abel in the form of a cardinal. The highest-ranking cleric who assists the Pope. Was that Heraclitus’s identity? Even so, it was strange. Abel thought, keeping his mouth shut.
Heraclitus’s attire was from a distant past.
“We are five, and we were mediators who connected the Main Gods and their followers. However, we decided to reject a mortal life. In order to renew this world.”
We abandoned our names. We abandoned our bodies.
And so, we coveted new names. We coveted new bodies.
To renew this world meant, in other words, to newly construct the heavens and earth. That was why they had to become fire. They had to become soil. They had to become iron, and they had to become water. Finally, they would become a tree and reconstruct it. Fire, soil, iron, water, tree. The five elements that make up this world.
“Therefore, we are five, and we resolved without hesitation. That we would willingly fall. That we would not mind even if we degenerated into apostates. Even if we are cast into the lowest place, we just need to overturn the foundation. By reversing the top and bottom of the hourglass, we will soar from the bottom and reign on high.”
Four cardinals stood beside Heraclitus.
Gorgias, Paracelsus, Kierkegaard, Mumford. In other words, the Tree and Water, Iron and Soil.
Five cardinals had fallen into apostasy. In which era were they appointed as cardinals? Abel could not say for sure. They must have been active in the shadows for a long time. Having abandoned their names, having abandoned their bodies. Constructing the world was a power exclusive to the Main Gods, but they must have resolved to imitate the world at the end of their desire for power.
“...It’s obvious.”
Abel said with a sigh-laden voice.
“I’ve seen plenty of creatures who wanted to become gods. Sages who were not yet mature, children who needed attention also had such dreams. Among them, you lot are particularly sickening.”
He could figure it out without difficulty.
What the essence that made up the souls of the five cardinals was.
They must have devoured them for an eternity. The souls of those who burned to death to become fire, the souls of those who drowned to become water. To become iron, to become soil, to become a tree, they had accumulated the souls of those who died by those means.
“How many?”
Abel’s brow furrowed.
“How many souls did you swallow?”
“Too many to count.”
You wouldn’t remember all the bread you’ve eaten in your life, would you?
Heraclitus whispered so.
“You asked us a question, madman.”
“How did we know you were the Sword Saint.”
“A foolish question. Our followers are all over the world.”
“Our souls are engraved in the mindscapes of all our followers. We have been grasping the situation with their eyes and ears.”
“Do you understand, young Sword Saint? We are the followers, the followers are us. It’s not just this boy. We have planted our souls in every corner of the world. As if scattering spores.”
The voices of the five cardinals echoed.
They must have devoured countless souls, then broken them into pieces again and buried them. In adults, in children. In nobles, in the poor. Deeply, without distinguishing between race and status.
Was that why I was identified? Abel silently conceded. It meant that among the followers were also the leaders of the Empire.
“‘Parousia Denomination’.”
“It is the name of the association we have established. A group to create the new order of the world.”
“We watched your activities with great interest. You must have noticed our achievements as well, right?”
“The CIAR invasion incident that happened a while ago… was the work of those who contracted with us.”
“We will not forget your kindness, madman. Thanks to you, we were able to take their souls. They were quite the decent prey.”
So they were behind it after all.
Abel recalled the point when CIAR was invaded. Dozens of warships transferred to the skies above the capital. It was safe to say that the power of the Parousia Denomination was on par with that of a nation. At the very least, it meant they could mobilize spells on a scale that surpassed state institutions.
“You demanded souls as a price for supporting their military expenses?”
“We used a Vow Spell.”
Heraclitus opened his mouth.
“Victory or defeat did not matter. The power struggle was unrelated to our cherished desire. Whether they died during the invasion, or were lucky enough to survive and die peacefully, their souls would not go to the underworld but would belong to us…. That was the condition of the vow.”
“Is that how you have accumulated power until now?”
“Isn’t it a practical method?”
Mumford opened her mouth.
“Pride, avarice, envy, wrath, lust, gluttony, sloth…. There are so many who offer their lives at the end of being possessed by negativity. Would it be any different for souls? Creatures live a life that is but a moment, and they sell even their souls to satisfy a fleeting desire.”
“Were you lot behind the Mirror War as well?”
“No, that was an accident.”
Kierkegaard opened his mouth.
“Cherkio Numeros, the 2nd Prince you killed with your own hands…. That one was our adversary. He did not yield to the temptation of the Parousia Denomination and coveted the throne for himself. He dreamed of becoming the Emperor of the Holy Numeros Empire, and reaching the underworld as the emperor. He was a truly greedy man. It would have been troublesome if he had taken the throne.”
“So you benefited because of me.”
“We thank you, Sword Saint.”
Paracelsus opened his mouth.
“The 2nd Prince was wary of the existence of the Parousia Denomination. That must be why he was engrossed in forbidden spells and forbidden drugs. Until the Papacy entered the war, he was confident of victory. He was merely preparing for the moment he would become hostile to us after the Mirror War.”
“What did you do with the souls you gathered from various places? Did you eat them all?”
“How could that be.”
Gorgias opened his mouth.
“Young Sword Saint, your perspective is narrow. We will renew the world and become its order. To do that, don’t we need a vessel to contain us? A boy’s body is not enough. Even an emperor’s body is not enough. We will become new gods and manifest. A body for that purpose is being prepared.”
The soul is the optimal raw material.
Is it not safe before any death?
Gorgias whispered so.
‘So that’s how it is.’
Abel recalled the contents of the oracle.
The Execution of the God Forged from Lies. They were indeed Abel’s targets. The five cardinals intended to use countless souls as material to form a body. As Gorgias said, the soul was both harder and lighter than anything else that existed in this world.
‘Is it a coincidence?’
The ambition of the five cardinals was blasphemous.
‘To create a world, a god is needed.’
What was forged from the sacrifice of a god was the world itself.
Abel knew the principle by which the heavens and earth were created. The faiths of all worlds, including Epezeria, had suggested it. That a single god sacrificed himself to form the world. And so, the dead god is called the World God.
The World God was the god of gods. It was treated as a being higher than the Main Gods, but the reality was different. The World God was merely an Outer God.
‘The Main Gods and the Outer Gods are different.’
An Outer God was a god created in the realm of the Pantheon.
In other words, the seed of a world. An Outer God that has finished growing stands at a crossroads. Whether to remain an Outer God and form a constellation of stars, or to exchange its existence to form a world.
‘All worlds are the corpses of Outer Gods…’
Only the soul. The part of this world that was not of an Outer God was only the soul.
That was why it was contemptible. The five cardinals were dreaming of becoming gods through something that was not a god.
“I’ll ask one last time.”
Abel opened his mouth.
“Did you lure me here? Through Emilio Mackenzie.”
There was a pile of suspicious circumstances.
Why go to the trouble of making the combat golems go berserk, then hospitalize Emilio in the infirmary?
Moreover, Abel remembered. Something resembling a monster’s core observed inside Emilio’s body. Now he could be sure of its identity. It was none other than a fragment of a soul. They had shown Abel a soul that had become as profane as a monster’s core.
“You are our rival, young Sword Saint.”
Gorgias said as he turned his back.
“To maintain chaos, order is also necessary. By all means, dance in the palm of our hands. This boy was merely a telescope to enjoy your dance. You and we will meet again soon.”
Gorgias of the Tree disappeared.
Fluttering rotten leaves.
“Your performance was truly surprising.”
Paracelsus said as he turned his back.
“To think you would suppress the turmoil of the Returnees so easily. I wasn't optimistic about their victory, but I had predicted that great chaos would spread in the capital…. This boy is a reward for that. Thank you for showing us a good spectacle.”
Paracelsus of the Water disappeared.
Leaving behind beaded wastewater.
“I do not ally with them.”
Kierkegaard said as she turned her back.
“This boy was a spy to inspect CIAR, so why should I have to hand him over to someone like you? Do not forget, Sword Saint. We are in all chaos. We will become the eye of the typhoon and watch you.”
Kierkegaard of the Iron disappeared.
Scattering the acrid smell of gunpowder.
“Your soul was too desolate.”
Mumford said as she turned her back.
“A mindscape so stained with death. What kind of life have you lived? It didn't feel like the life of one person. It felt as if you had exhausted a hundred lifetimes. Please, let's meet again. Next time, I will greet you with a proper body.”
Mumford of the Soil disappeared.
Leaving behind a gust of sand.
“So it has come to this, madman.”
Heraclitus did not turn his back.
He just stood facing Abel. With a wry smile on his face.
“There is no need to expend energy on killing a gnat. Emilio Mackenzie is a soul not worth eating. Giving him to you would not be a problem. Besides, I was also asked a favor.”
“...A favor?”
To Abel’s question, Heraclitus nodded.
“Our comrade requested it. That we not kill Emilio Mackenzie. It was difficult to go against her wishes. There was still something we had to receive.”
The Saint-Pierre family…, he thought.
Heraclitus whispered in a low voice.
“Madman, you seem to be keeping an eye on the Saint-Pierre family. Am I right?”
“There is no reason to answer.”
“Refusing to answer is also an answer. Therefore, I will tell you. Because watching you is a good amusement for us.”
Heraclitus’s hand was extended towards Abel.
A blackish mucus swirled from his palm. It rose and became a lumpy sphere. Ectoplasm. The power of apostates needed to cast black magic.
“The Saint-Pierre family has a close relationship with the Parousia Denomination. They do not know us, but we know them well. Like the relationship between prey and predator.”
Heraclitus gestured with his chin.
It meant to take it. The ectoplasm was the result of joining souls. It would not be an exaggeration to say that it was forged from someone’s life. If that was disassembled, one would be able to peek into their memories. It meant observing the lives of the souls that made up the ectoplasm.
“That will light the way before you.”
Heh.
Heraclitus laughed.
“Do not misunderstand. We are not harming the members of the Saint-Pierre family. To kill a mortal with one's own hands is not the domain of a god. We are merely intending for them to die.”
There isn't much time.
The culprit must have already reached the capital.
As he heard Heraclitus’s whisper,
“Why.”
Abel extended his hand.
The ectoplasm touched his fingertips. The lurching thing seeped into Abel’s palm. A tingling displeasure distorted Abel’s expression.
“For what reason are you providing me with information?”
“I gave it because it seemed you wanted it.”
To Abel’s question, Heraclitus shrugged his shoulders.
“To give to those who desire as is proper. Is that not the indisputable domain of a god?”
Heraclitus took a step back.
He then spread his arms and bowed his upper body. It was a mockingly exaggerated greeting.
<──By the way, were you prepared for a battle?>
Fwoosh.
An ember formed in Heraclitus’s palm.
His slick voice began to echo ominously.
The flame spread and incinerated Heraclitus. The wrinkled skin was messily torn open, and the blaze billowed and swallowed Heraclitus’s body.
The flame was Heraclitus’s true body.
So I will be waiting, he said.
Heraclitus whispered to Abel.
The surging flames began to die down. To flare up in an instant and then subside was the nature of fire. The ashes popped boisterously as if laughing, and what lurked beyond Abel’s clouded vision was a sinister declaration.
Leaving behind a sliver of conviction, Heraclitus disappeared.
Through the gaps in the scorched smoke, Abel looked around. He observed Emilio’s mindscape where the five cardinals had vanished. The chaotic scenery was calming down into white.
‘With this, my business is done.’
Abel closed his eyes.
There was no longer any reason to stay in Emilio’s inner self. It was time to finish the exorcism.
‘Even so…’
As he sent his soul outside the mindscape, Abel let out a sigh.
‘...I’m going to be busy from now on.’