Paladin of the end Chapter 4

Paladin of the end Chapter 4

After the god of undeath departed, I started to carry the three of them, unconscious and battered, to a room inside the temple.

They’d been damaged to the point where they could just barely still function as undead. They hadn’t been completely destroyed only because the god of undeath intended to gain control over their souls.

All three of them were high-level undead. They could recover from slight wounds in no time at all, but this was different. They’d been injured far too badly. On top of that, the one who had inflicted those wounds was an Echo of Stagnate, who was the source of their immortal powers. There was no way recovering from that would be easy.

It was impossible to hope that they’d be fully healed by the time tomorrow rolled around. Their wounds were regenerating far too slowly. They would probably still be gravely injured.



First, I carried Mary, whose arms were broken and throat gouged out, by draping her body over my shoulder. She hung there, completely limp. She was thin and painfully light.

Next was Gus. I couldn’t touch him, of course, since he was a specter. I used a number of Words to transport him. My voice trembled several times.

Blood was completely broken. I carried his bones back one by one, piece by piece, sorting the parts as I went. I went back and forth between the temple and the hill, over and over, clenching my teeth to fight back tears.

This was my fault. I had robbed Blood and Mary of their attachment.

I now finally understood what had been behind Gus’s actions, too. Why he had been against bringing me up, why he had tried to cram so much knowledge into me, why he had tried to kill me, and why he had told me to lose on purpose.

Neither Blood nor Mary could abandon me. It wasn’t in their natures. But if they raised me, they might lose their attachment. So Gus was dead set against it. He didn’t get his way, though, and they brought me up anyway. And I worked hard, because of my previous life’s memories, to be a good kid who learned fast. Blood and Mary really took to me.

The reason Gus forced so much cramming onto me must have been to try to break me. He figured that the weight of all the ridiculous tasks he was piling on me would be too much for me, and would stop me from wanting to study. But even then I kept pushing on, and he could tell that Blood and Mary’s attachment to the High King was being lost, and their focus was shifting to me instead.

So he decided to just go for it and kill me. The reason he used Create Golem and Stone Blast at that time was to make it look like an accident. After all, there

was plenty of fallen rubble lying around in the underground city already.

I didn’t think he was horrible for choosing to do that. He had to weigh two things against each other: the possibility that the souls of his two friends would be eternal slaves to an evil god, and the life of a child who had been picked up just ten-odd years before. It wasn’t crazy of him to choose the former.

Despite all that, Gus was probably still conflicted. He definitely hadn’t wanted to kill me. Not only that, but from what I knew of Gus, he would definitely have realized the possibility that Blood and Mary would be so devastated by my death that they’d lose their attachment even faster. In the end, the problem lay with the other two’s hearts. Gus himself would have known that it wasn’t the kind of issue where you could choose the right answer by logic. That was why he gave me the chance to strike back. He was leaving the outcome in the hands of fate.

How much must he have suffered when I refused to fight? How much must he have agonized over that decision? What was he feeling when he chose to let me live?

He told me to lose on purpose for the same reason. It was because, if I won, Blood would feel that he had achieved everything he set out to do, and it would make him lose his attachment.

Even though Gus expected me to fight against his request, he said nothing to me about the reason for it. He must have been dying to tell me what I was doing to Blood and Mary, that I was on the verge of dooming them both. But he said nothing.

And when things at last turned fatal, Gus had already resolved to fight the god’s Echo alone. To protect me, Blood, and Mary, he fought that terrifying being on his own.

I had the feeling that Blood and Mary had made peace with it—that they would lose their attachment if they raised me, that they might meet their end and leave Gus on his own. Their choice to raise me was made in full knowledge of all of that.

They could have chosen to abandon me. They could even have chosen to bring me up any old way, without really caring. But no, they fully embraced raising me. They didn’t shirk from it. I could imagine the many arguments they must have had with Gus. Blood, looking awkward, but refusing to budge. Mary, looking apologetic and guilty as she stood up for me.

I’d been living a carefree life, oblivious to everything. Just sitting on my butt, leeching off Gus’s internal agony and Blood and Mary’s self-sacrifice. I sniffed. What had I been doing? Getting so giddy over how I was going to “live right”...

Naïvely believing them completely when they said they’d explain someday.

Building up hopes of going to the outside world.

Tears came to my eyes as a vague memory of my prior life resurfaced. The sound of a motor. A handcart trundled by, carrying a white coffin. A cold, mechanical sound accompanied the slow, inexorable closing of the incinerator door.

The deaths of my parents in my past life... I caused them constant trouble. They died before I could give anything back.

Tears flooded down my cheeks. My knees hit the cold floor in front of them all as they lay there unresponsive. A burning feeling of frustration clawed my heart from the inside. I curled up on the floor in pain.

“I’m... sorry.” This time? This time, my ass. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry...” Again, they were dying because of me. I still caused them trouble and gave nothing back, as hopeless as I ever was. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry... Forgive me... Oh, gods...”

Now I knew. I really was scum. Reborn or not, I was still hopelessly incompetent scum.

This time, my ass. You’re just the same now as before, I told myself. Unable to do anything when it really matters. Curled up in a dark room, your chest burning with emotion you don’t know what to do with. Repeating apologies that won’t reach anyone. You’ve been reborn, and you’re still no goddamn different.

◆

“Hey...”

The voice caused me to awaken with a jolt. I remembered curling up, crying, moaning, saying “sorry” again and again... and not much past that. I wasn’t even sure whether I’d passed out or fallen asleep.

“Wow, you look like crap,” said Blood, who was still broken everywhere. His jaw rattled with laughter.

“Oh... Dear me, you’re right.” Mary’s voice sounded hoarse; her throat was still mostly destroyed.

Gus, who had only his top half, shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s not good for you, Will,” Mary croaked. “It’s the middle of winter. You mustn’t sleep on the floor.”

“Yes,” said Gus. “Go and make yourself some herbal tea or something. I daresay that you haven’t eaten a thing since yesterday.”

“Yeah, you can’t go doing that. Eat your fill. Everything else can wait.”

Everyone was acting just like normal. It was tempting to believe it had all been a dream.

Touched by their warmth, the burning emotions inside my chest scratched and clawed to get out. Something rose up inside me. I was finding it hard to breathe. My eyes blurred.

“I’m sorry...” I involuntarily shifted my gaze to the floor. I couldn’t look up at them.

“Will. No,” Blood spoke firmly. “This is our fault, not yours, for doing something so stupid in the first place. It caught up with us. That’s it.”

“We’ve existed too long, in defiance of the eternal cycle. We have to pay the price.”

I still couldn’t bring myself to look at them as they spoke.

“So, let’s see, Grandpa Gus,” Blood said. “You outright ignored the contract, then tried to beat the hell out of him when he came to collect. And then, you failed! What a guy. Never change.”

“Hmph. A contract you’re forced into by someone preying on your weaknesses is nothing I call a contract. He deserved to be sent packing at the last second. That said, I didn’t expect him to have split his Echo in two. My intention was to blast him away so thoroughly that he wouldn’t be able to show his face in this dimension for another decade.”

Mary’s laugh was muffled. “It’s awful to say, but I must admit I did get a little enjoyment out of seeing his pallid face being blown away.” The other two burst out laughing at this remark, which was unusually brash for Mary.

“Yes,” she said contemplatively, “if we could bring the god of undeath down with us, I wouldn’t be too unhappy with that.”

“Yeah. What d’you all say, wanna gang up on him and teach him a lesson? I figured I was never gonna beat a god, and I did sign up for the contract, so I kinda resigned myself to it. But we did blow him up once. Who knows, might work.”

“Mm, that’s the spirit. I can’t say whether I could cast it in this state, but what if I used the Word of Entity Obliteration with no restraint at all, wiping him and us off the face of this world at the same time?”

“Hey, that sounds awesome! We just disintegrate and cease to exist, souls and all. That’s exactly what we were looking for!”

“Gus, I think that’s a wonderful plan.” The atmosphere about them was refreshingly positive. This had probably been how they talked to each other while they were alive. But it was obvious that it was just empty bravado.

Gus had won once, barely, through a sneak attack and a barrage of seals his

opponent hadn’t anticipated. But I doubted there’d be a second time. The three of them were seriously wounded.

“So—Will,” Blood said, turning the discussion to me. “You’re an adult now. Independent. Get out there already and explore the world.”

“I’m sorry that we can’t hold a coming-of-age party or ceremony for you.”

“If you want a present, all the knowledge we gave you over the years will have to suffice.”

My heart ached.

“Go wild out there, get some people under you, and get up to a ton of mischief.”

“B-Blood! Don’t give him bad advice!” she said, putting emphasis on every word.

Gus laughed loudly. “Well, you have to turn somewhat of a blind eye to these things. Boys will be boys, and men will be men.”

“Once he starts down a slippery slope like that, he won’t be able to kick the habit, you know!”

My heart ached. That burning emotion was scratching furiously at my chest from the inside.

“Getting in a bit of trouble’s all part of learning. Right, old man?” “Indeed. I wouldn’t worry. The boy will be fine.” “Yeah, Will’s gonna do great.”

“I’m not saying I don’t have faith in him...”

My heart... ached. So badly that I couldn’t bear it anymore.

“You’ve got it all wrong...” It’s not like that. You don’t understand. “I’m not the kind of person you’re all hoping for me to be!” As if I were spitting blood, I forced the words out with a trembling voice.

Spurred on by Blood, I poured out everything I’d been keeping bottled inside me, becoming a soggy mess of negative emotions: self-reproach, shame, grief.

I told them that I had memories of a previous life. That there, I had been an unsalvageable, hopeless person.

That when I’d been reborn, I’d resolved to do it right this time. That I hadn’t been able to realize anything, and had been making them suffer while I lived comfortably. That in the end, I hadn’t given them anything back.

I verbalized everything that was in my chest, like a criminal confessing to his crimes. They quietly listened.

“I don’t even remember whether I cried when my mom and dad died, after causing them all that trouble...”

That’s right. Back then, what was in my mind? Someone like me who couldn’t even pull that out of the hazy fog was just...

“Scum.” Scum, who got flush with the idea of being able to start over in a new environment. “I’m just irredeemable scum.” The outside world was impossible for a person like me. How could I ever live up to their expectations?

My head was spinning in circles. Suffering, pain, sadness, embarrassment. I couldn’t look them in the face.

“Will,” Mary called my name.

I timidly raised my head.

“Grit your teeth.”

A shock of pain ran through me. It took me a few moments to realize what had happened. Mary had slapped me across the cheek with all her strength. Her arm, which had just been starting to recover, was twisted even more unnaturally than before.

I yelped in horror. “M-Mar—”

“Look at me!” Ignoring her arm, Mary placed a hand firmly around my cheek and turned my head so we could make eye contact. But she had no eyeballs there, just empty sockets.

Mary had lost her eyeballs long ago, and always kept her head turned downward. That wasn’t just a reserved and polite expression. It was also so that she wouldn’t scare me with her empty eye sockets.

“Will,” she said sharply, “as your mother, I forbid you from hurting yourself anymore. You, scum? Don’t be so utterly ridiculous. You’ve always been hardworking and dedicated. No matter how incredibly difficult the tasks Gus set for you, no matter how many times you were injured while training with Blood, you always did your best, even when you were left to fend for yourself in the mountains and the underground city.”

She spoke quietly, but vehemently and with authority. Not once in my life had I seen Mary speak so strongly.

“Take a look at what you’ve accomplished! Who gives a fig about your old memories? I understand that the god of undeath shook you up, but get over it! You should not be letting it affect you like this!”

I suddenly felt as if I’d taken a hard knock to the head.

“You don’t remember whether you cried when your old parents died? Of course you did! Look how sorry you’re feeling just for having a hazy memory! Look how much you’re crying for us right now! How in the world would a person like you not have cried?!”

I felt my heart being firmly shaken. I started regaining feeling in a part of me where there had only been numbness before. I thought I’d cried myself dry, but the tears started to well up in my eyes again. Something warm was starting to flicker and glow inside my frozen heart.

“Will! William! Stop that brooding and shape up! Well?! I’m waiting!”

Pushed on by her voice, I sobbed one final time, straightened my back, looked straight at her, and answered, “Okay,” in the most confident voice I could muster. The feeling of hopelessness that had been itching away inside my chest had disappeared completely. I felt a lot better.

Over Mary’s shoulder, Blood and Gus were laughing off the awkward situation.

“See what being a wet blanket gets you?” Blood said, cackling devilishly. “Back to form, I see.”

I nodded forcefully. No more hesitation. The unknown, warm light inside my heart was rapidly growing as hot as magma. My brain began picking up speed and putting together logic. I was now thinking very clearly.

I was okay. I was okay now. Mary had protected me. So the way forward was clear.

“I have a request. Please... Let me protect you all.”

Now, I could fight. I was sure of it. And nothing felt as good as determination.

◆

While the sun was up, I had something hot to eat. Steam was still rising from it as I ate. The heat spread around my body, and gave me energy and courage.

I made sure my equipment was in order. He’d told me he’d be coming at night. I adjusted my spear, Pale Moon, to a length of about two meters, and set the light to maximum range and maximum brightness.

I passed my shield over my left arm and attached it to my belt. I’d sharpened the edge, with consideration to potentially hitting him with it.

I put my leather armor on over the top of my thick under armor, and covered the vulnerable areas of my body with the metal armor—throat plate, breastplate, gauntlets, and greaves. I deliberately didn’t wear the helmet, thinking that it might obstruct my vision.

I was going against a god. None of this superficial armor would do anything besides make me feel better, anyway. In place of the helmet, I did at least tie on a headband, thinking that without it, I might get sweat in my eyes or get my forehead

cracked by the aftermath of one of his attacks.

And lastly, I checked my sword belt, from which Overeater hung. This blade, which worked on Echoes, was the key to everything.

All the support that magic and benediction could possibly give me, I’d already had cast upon me and my equipment, with cooperation from Mary and Gus. Thanks to them, my physical abilities and resistance to magic were a third greater than normal. Whether that was to be “a mere third” or “a whole third” remained to be seen.

They’d told me many times not to do this, or to at least fight with them instead of on my own. But even if they fought alongside me, I wouldn’t be able to rely on them in their current state. I was certain that fighting by myself would be less stressful.

“Secret boss before leaving the first town...” I mumbled to myself, remembering the games of my previous world. “Who the hell designed this?”
But reality was like that from time to time. There would always be occasions when you ran straight into ridiculous opponents before you were properly prepared for them.

It would be nice if you could take gradual steps up from weaklings to more difficult enemies, but life didn’t always work out that way. Sometimes, you just immediately ran into a hopelessly, desperately strong opponent. The question was what to do about it.

“Nothing but figure out what’s my best chance and give it all I’ve got, I guess.” You could call it the Japanese kamikaze spirit, but even so, I had learned through being reborn that there were times when pushing forward despite the

danger was important.

Is the chance of winning high or low? Is this winnable or not? Is this doable or not? Questions like these often couldn’t be answered in real life without actually taking on the challenge. It wasn’t like I had stats to rely on.

It was important to consider the risks I was putting myself under, but I couldn’t allow myself to be too afraid of failure. If I tried to remove all risk before acting, I’d be stuck forever hugging my knees, never taking any action at all.

After doing some thorough stretches, I lit a stick of incense in front of the sculptures of the gods, and knelt before them.

“Gods of good virtue, I go now to fight for the father, mother, and grandfather who are dear to me. I will fight a wicked god, all on my own.” I put my hands together, and lowered my eyes. “Should you bear witness to this act and know it as good, I beg for your divine protection.”

May I not cower. May I not flinch. May my fighting be worthy of what they have taught me.

After that short prayer, I stood up. I opened the temple’s large doors. And entirely of my own volition, I stepped forward, into the outside world, and the total darkness of night. A freezing wind was howling noisily across the nighttime hill, and emanating from the graveyard at its foot was a dreadful, unholy aura.

“So. Have you made up your mind?”

You bet I have.

“Stagnate, unholy god...” I began to walk toward him. I gradually picked up speed. My walk became a run, and my run became a sprint. And then, in challenge and defiance, I shouted at a god.

“I will give you nothing!”

◆

I sprinted down the hill, my spear lighting up my surroundings. On the opposite side to the city, where lines of tombstones stood before a dense forest, was the man with the pale face and stagnant eyes the color of dusk. I hadn’t been able to move at all against him the day before.

The pressure I was feeling from him today was no different, but my body was moving unbelievably freely. Mary’s scolding, her encouragement, had fired me up so much that I could feel the heat burning inside me.

I openly declared my hostility to the Echo of this wicked and overwhelmingly powerful god, challenging him from the front. This looked foolish, but I had thought hard about the most optimal plan, and this was my conclusion.

He was a splinter of a god, a being that existed on a different plane than us humans. He wasn’t the kind of opponent you could do anything about by simply hitting him with a sword or a rock.

There were currently only about three conceivable methods of wounding or annihilating him: borrowing the power of another god; scoring a direct hit with high-level magic, as Gus had done; or striking him with a piece of high-level magic equipment.

The first, the appearance of an Echo of one of the good gods—I had absolutely no expectation of this. I wasn’t so full of myself that I thought the good gods, who were probably preoccupied elsewhere, would just conveniently do me the favor of appearing here in answer to my prayer. If I was planning to rely on a power that wasn’t under my own control, I should not be fighting, but locked away praying

right now.

Next, the second: high-level magic. This one was tricky. I was Gus’s apprentice; it wouldn’t be beyond me to fire off a magic of the same class as Entity Obliteration if I really tried. But I’d need to take my time meticulously preparing for it to have a reasonable chance of success. Binding him using high-speed multicasting, and then using Entity Obliteration to blast him and the Bindings away at once, was a wild technique that I couldn’t possibly learn to imitate in a single day. That being the case, it made no sense to try using an inferior version of that move on a foe who’d already been hit by it once and would be on his guard for anything similar.

Which brought me to the third: high-level magic equipment. This was the only possibility that looked like it had any chance of working. The demonblade “Overeater” that Blood had given me was up to the task without any doubt. Hitting him with this had more of a chance than sluggishly preparing a large-scale work of magic in front of an enemy who was still wary of it.

I didn’t just have to hit him. I had to hit him with the demonblade, which was short. Ideally, I’d wanted to trick him or something to get him to lower his guard, and aim for a surprise attack, but I was forced to conclude that would be impossible. Since there were only a limited number of methods to hurt him, the fact that I’d be equipped with an easily drawn sword which could accomplish exactly that would be just the same as declaring myself hostile.

Imagine it. Your enemy tells you he’s surrendering. Meanwhile, he’s approaching you with a knife blatantly held behind his back. No way would I trust that person. Neither would the god of undeath.

I did have the idea of hiding the demonblade somehow, but imagining that the incarnation of a god, and all his powers of perception, could be deceived by some mediocre trickery was just wishful thinking. If I was prepared to attempt such a risky gamble, it’d be way better to just face up to it instead. Challenge him head-on, fully prepared for battle. So I attempted to appeal to his pride as a higher existence.

“I challenge you to battle! Accept, or be forever known as the god who fled from a mere human boy!”

The ideal situation would be if he fell for this cheap provocation and engaged me in single combat, but my sights were actually set slightly lower. The Echo of Stagnate instead applauded me as I drew closer, as if I had amused him.

“Hah hah hah! Not bad, for a mere boy.”

I couldn’t see him clearly. His flawless features were shrouded by mist.

“Let me guess—you are trying to focus my attention on you so you can restrict my movements.”

He knew exactly what I was planning. Regardless of whether he was going to fight me or not, I wanted to focus his attention on what to do with me.
After all, Blood and Mary were behind me, weakened. They already didn’t stand a chance of beating him. If he ignored me and concentrated on collecting them, there would be nothing I could do.

“Very well... I accept. But if you wish to challenge a god...”

A black mist spread from the god of undeath standing at the foot of the hill, squirming and crawling along the ground. It seeped into the ground like oil.
I didn’t know what he was planning, but I had to act first.

“Acceleratio!” I hurriedly incanted a Word off the top of my head and increased my speed further. Combined with the body strengthening effects I already had, the sense of acceleration quickly became overwhelming.

I couldn’t even tell how many meters forward I was bounding now with every step. Like a bullet I hurtled toward to the god of undeath, and arriving at my target, I grasped Overeater and pulled it free, combining the draw and the slash into a single swift—

A blunt strike from the side sent me flying. Knowing it was futile to fight the momentum, I sprang off the ground in the same direction on impact, eventually rolling backwards and leaping to my feet again.

“First prove yourself worthy.”

Tombstones all around toppled over. The ground swelled, and bodies clambered out.

“This... is...”

They were warriors. Skeletal warriors clad in rusted armor, with bits and pieces of them missing.

They were sorcerers. Skeletal sorcerers, with rotten staves in their hands, swaying slightly from side to side as they stood there, their eye sockets empty.

Grave-dirt crumbling from their bodies, more and more of the skeletons climbed to their feet around me.

“I am Stagnate, god of undeath...”

One thing came to mind. The three had come to this place to defeat the High King, and had brought a lot of allies with them.

They eventually managed to seal away the High King, but it came at the cost of their allies, as well as a contract with the god of undeath that they hadn’t wanted to enter into. They became protectors of the seal, and buried the bodies of the

brave warriors that had died for their cause. Buried them where? Here, of course! “And commander of undying legions.”

The souls inside of them might not be the same, but these were certainly their allies, every one of them the remains of a person who deserved to be called a hero.

The god of undeath cackled quietly, and then broke into a loud laugh. “Now, young warrior. Here is your chance. Show me your power!”

He was grinning, his arms spread wide in challenge, as if defying me to reach him. The undead corpses of those heroes completely surrounded him. They numbered about a hundred.

He’s toying with me. I don’t stand a chance. Those words started floating at the back of my mind.

“Ha!” I barked a single laugh. So what? My mouth had almost frozen in fear, but I forced the corners upward into a ferocious grin, as Blood must have done while he was alive.

I held my spear at the ready, cast my eyes over my surroundings, and thought about what my best plan of action was. I was sure that would have been Gus’s approach.

I wouldn’t give up. I wouldn’t allow myself to be shaken. I would believe in possibility until the end, just as I’d learned from Mary.

“Pile in. I’ll make sure each and every one of you gets a taste of my steel!”

◆

The situation was not looking the least bit good. I stepped in close to one of the undead and bashed the edge of my shield sideways against him, smashing his brittle ribs and spine to pieces. Backed up against a large gravestone, I yelled out Words, deploying grease and webs to stop another approaching group. Meanwhile, I was swinging my spear down and sweeping it to the sides as if it was a staff, slamming it against several who had gotten too close and smashing their bones.

An undead who looked like a nimble fighter came leaping over the gravestone. The mail he was wearing was a beautiful silver color. I sensed immediately that it was mithril, or something like it. I probably wouldn’t be able to cut through it.

So as he was in midair, I lodged my spear’s blade in the gap between his fibula and his tibia, the two major bones of the lower leg, and disrupted his

posture. He fell to the ground. My movements flowed forward into a heel kick, crushing his skull into fragments under my foot. By this time, I had thrust the butt of my spear behind me, its heavy metal cap helping to keep more enemies in check.

Someone fired a magic bullet at me from the side. “Acceleratio!” I leaped out of its way while applying magic to speed me up.

My jump took me over the large gravestone. I twisted my body in midair like a pole vaulter, seeking out the ones who were pursuing me. “Cadere Araneum!” I entangled them in a web, and moved position so I wouldn’t get driven into a corner.

“Oh...? Far from pretty, but... this against a hundred heroes...”

The god of undeath was muttering, as if he was impressed. But I was only fighting as I’d learned to fight.

If the hundred undead that appeared had all been high-level undead with intelligence like the three I was so familiar with, I would have been finished. But fortunately, despite being a god, it didn’t look as though he was capable of instantly producing undead that were that advanced en masse.

The warrior undead were definitely frighteningly skilled swordsmen, and it wasn’t hard to believe they were former greats. But many were missing body parts or armor, and they were at least a couple notches slower than Blood. If I kept control of the situation and took them all on individually, as much of a pain as that would be, I could destroy any of them with no more than three moves.

As for the sorcerer undead, they were almost too weak to take seriously. The intelligence dwelling inside them was too crude. Their aim was way off, and I was moving around at high speed with my body boosted as far as it would go. The only thing I was worried about was a lucky shot. If I kept my usage of magic methodical and centered on binding and obstruction magic as Gus had always taught me, using it for crowd control, and lured them into one-on-one battles, I could crush them easily with the fighting skills I’d learned from Blood.

But even so, the situation was looking extremely bad. The question wasn’t whether I could defeat a hundred or not. It was whether I could fight the god of undeath after having done so. There was no way my stamina was going to hold out if I kept engaging with this shoddy imitation of a 100-Man Melee.

If I became short of breath, the failure rate of my spoken magical incantations would increase. My moves, too, would become less effective as I grew more tired. If I could have absorbed life force from them with Overeater, I might have been able to continue fighting without getting tired, but unfortunately, all my opponents were undead, and had no life force to leech.

What was I going to do? I smashed another one with my spear and tried to think of a solution, but was interrupted.

“Wait.”

The undead all stopped moving. The god of undeath placed a hand against his chin and hummed in thought.

“I thought of you as nothing more than an aside to the three heroes, but this is... greater than expected. What is your name?”

He had a smile on his face.

“Will...” I answered warily. I’d have preferred him to take me lightly, but it seemed his estimation of me had been revised upward. As I was beginning to consider the possibility that he was about to crush me more mercilessly than before, he spoke again.

“I see. Will... I want to ask you again to join me.” Those words echoed loudly in my ears.

“I have taken to you. Your excellent skills in combat, your spiritual fortitude in challenging me alone, all of it is desirable. I would gladly have you as one of the many leaders of my undying legions.”

“What do you thi—”

“Ahh... Hold on. You are most likely misunderstanding something. Any person who offers themselves to me entirely is someone with value, and I don’t intend to treat them otherwise. That goes for them and for you.”

I had to admit I was a little surprised by those words. The image I had of the god of undeath was a grisly one, both from the level of Blood and Mary’s resignation, and more simply from the words “souls held prisoner by the wicked god of undeath.”

“If you choose to come with me, I will free you of that repugnant thing called death. You will ride on the ship of ghosts to the end of the sea, and arrive at my land, where you will find a paradise without age or disease.”

I was still trying to get over my surprise at this unexpected development, but he continued talking at length, undeterred.

“Under my command, there may be times when you cross swords with the forces of the virtuous gods. You will fight formidable enemies, and charge across the battlefield shoulder-to-shoulder with the heroes, saints, and sages of antiquity.”

He never faltered once as he spoke of his ideal. It was a powerful, convincing speech, from which a person could believe that things really were as he claimed.

“When the battle is over, I will hold a revel. It will be an event of great

abandon and merriment, and a chance for you to regale the others with tales of your achievements on the battlefield. And then, the preparations will begin for the next. You must be aware that high-level undead possess strong souls, and the emotions of joy and happiness?”

I was. I knew that from living with them.

“Will, you can spend an age in harmony with the parents who raised you. There will be no need for farewells or sorrow. And once we attain supremacy over this dimension, that will become eternal...”

He paused, as if to allow me time to reflect on the significance of this.

“That is my purpose. There is too much tragedy in this world. Death is not beautiful; it is mostly accompanied by pain and fear that defies imagining. Love is not rewarded, rather punished, by the suffering of the loved one and a parting by death. Powerful heroes and noble saints are shunned and killed, precisely because of their power, precisely because of their nobility.”

— The god of undeath, Stagnate, was once allied with the forces of good. He strayed from that path when he could no longer stand seeing the tragedies of life and death. His desire is to create an eternally stagnated world without tragedy, by turning talented souls of all kinds into the forever undying.
I remembered Mary’s words. She had certainly said that to me.

“Do you not think it unfair? This world contains too much tragedy. I would like to put an end to that. I want to make a world that is eternally kind, where the menace of death is no more.”

His words had a tenderness to them. He probably wasn’t lying. If a world like that could really be created...

If it could...

“Come, Will. Make a contract with me, as they did.”

He produced a chalice and a dagger from somewhere. The chalice was a dull silver and the dagger was plain, but a strong divinity dwelt within them both. Holding the chalice in position, the god of undeath made a shallow cut into his own wrist. His black blood quietly began to fill the chalice up.
“Drink my blood. Do this, and you can part ways with death.”

He offered it to me. I guessed that drinking this blood was what made you undead. I nodded. I placed my spear on the ground and stepped toward the chalice as if in a hypnotic trance. Then, with a single motion, I drew my sword and sliced his wrist off.

His face filled with shock and confusion. Something like a thorny crimson vine snaked from Overeater’s black blade and tangled itself into the wound.

I felt strength flowing into me from my right hand, in which the sword was held. My tiredness left me, the small cuts I’d taken healed over, and energy immediately began to course through me. Even before my brain had time to understand that this was what restoring life force felt like, my well-disciplined body was bringing back the blade. During a moment of confusion, the ideal strike was not the neck, but a swipe straight across the largest target—the torso!

The god of undeath groaned in apparent pain. The strike had landed. Direct hit. The crimson thorns tangled into his torso, too. It was working! One last flick— from his armpit up and across to his neck—I was sure that was all I needed—Up —!

Something pulled my pivot leg with frightening force, and I fell over. The ground hit me hard. I could sense him slipping away. I looked at my leg. A blood-soaked snake was wrapped around it. The snake was slithering out of the chalice which had fallen to the ground along with his wrist.

Crap. He was hiding backup in a place like that?!

“Ghh... First the Sage, now you... Treacherous rats...”

I could hear his voice. The snake was squeezing my leg with a strength unimaginable from its thin body. It gazed at me with its emotionless, vertically split pupils, its fangs dripping with the god of undeath’s blood. The snake hissed. The god of undeath replied while groaning in pain.

“You may. Attack!”

At that single word, the snake darted at my neck. I threw up an arm by reflex. The snake coiled around it, and I felt a sharp pain from a gap in my armor. I tried to shake the snake off, but its fangs were sunk firmly into my arm. It had driven its fangs, tinged with the godblood that turned a person into the undead, into my skin. An abnormal chill spread from the wound at a terrifying pace, and I soon felt it in every part of my body.

My body started to stiffen. I tried to struggle, but my body would no longer obey me. My vision grew blurry. My mind clouded over. Something was wrong with my sense of balance—The ground was wobbling, twisting—

I squeaked out half a vowel, and fell over. My vision was swimming, but amid the blur I could see the undead pointing their weapons at me. I scratched weakly at the ground and wriggled imperceptibly.

C-Can’t... let this...

But I couldn’t move. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t move.

But I... have to... protect... them...

My vision grew gradually darker, and I blacked out.

◆

I came to under a starry sky of dancing phosphorescence.

I took a few glances around before realizing. My hands felt... floaty. Like Gus’s spectral body... hold on, not “like.” That was exactly what this was. I guess I died, then? From an adverse reaction to his blood or something.

Hmm.

This place was starting to feel somehow familiar. Like I’d walked through here before. My eyes glanced toward the ground, and I noticed it. What was below me was dark and reflected the stars, like a vast plane of water, and on its surface there was the large, distorted reflection of a faint light, which was coming from behind me.

I turned to see a figure holding a lantern with a long handle. The figure was wearing a hooded robe that covered its eyes, but I already knew who it was.
“It’s very good to see you again, god of the flame.” I bowed my head.

Memories were starting to come back.

I’d walked under this starry sky before. This “god of the flame” had shown me the way.

“...”

Not much of a talker. If I remembered correctly, not a single word was ever spoken to me before, either. The god of the flame had simply led, and nothing more. But I remembered that walk, that careful walk, always making sure I wasn’t falling behind, and how full it was of caring and affection.

Some time passed in silence, and I came to another realization. Those weren’t stars that were floating in the darkness. They were worlds. Worlds containing numerous universes, countless stars and infinite planets, moving slowly like stars on a gigantic armillary sphere.

Freed from the shackles of my physical body, my expanded senses perceived everything. Occasionally, two of the worlds would happen to approach each other, and a faint powder of lights would float from them, and then be absorbed by the other. Though the lights were very faint, I couldn’t think of them as fragile. In fact, I even felt strength from them.

“What is that...?”

“The circulation of souls. They pass through worlds, that stagnation not befall all things.”

A reply came back. For some reason, I didn’t find that surprising. Somehow, I’d felt that the god of the flame would reply to me now.

“Ah... So that must be how I left my world, and how I came to this one.”

As I looked up at the starry sky, a puff of lights rose from another world. Weightless yet strong, they twinkled as they drifted to another world. Innumerable worlds drifted like stars in the night sky, and within them, innumerable souls, living, dying, and crossing between. Blinking like heartbeats, circulating like blood. Life being spun like infinite yarn. It was a deeply lonely and beautiful sight.

“How could I have forgotten this view?”

This time, the god gave no answer, and wasn’t even making an attempt to lead me anywhere. The figure just stood there, unmoving.

“I ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Why did you reject the invitation of the god of undeath?”

The god’s question was a surprisingly grounded one. I was expecting to be asked something more abstract, more conceptual.

“Well, I mean... Hmm.”

I thought for a bit. Was it going to be all right to phrase it this way? Maybe it would be better to make it sound less... No. It is what it is.

“I was a shut-in before, in my previous life, as you know. I probably stumbled at something, or something beat the ever-loving hell out of me and my confidence, and I never picked myself back up again. That was no way to live, but I did learn one little thing from going through that.”

With silence, the god encouraged me onward.

“There’s a pretty big difference between living and being alive.”

At least while my body had been biologically active, I had definitely been alive. But if you asked me whether I’d lived... I’d have to give that some serious thought.

“In my last life, I was only alive. I didn’t have the courage to do anything, and in fact, the thought that I had to be alive for another several decades was crushing me.”

I still thought of that as its own special type of Hell. Physical pain, you could endure. Getting yourself absolutely stuck in a dead end you couldn’t escape from, and having to be alive there for decades? That you felt.

“I could only barely remember it, but that slightest memory was enough. That was why I decided that in this world, I was going to live.”

That vow I’d made in my youngest days... Even now it was my cornerstone, the defining brick around which I was built.

“In my previous world, I didn’t care about dying, so I never lived. And I never

lived, so I wasn’t afraid to die.”

I didn’t want pain, so I never actively tried to kill myself, but if there’d been a way of easily dying a painless, sleep-like death, I might have taken it gladly. Death had meant that little to me. Life had meant that little to me, too.

“Devalue one, and the other is also devalued.”

Gus had said it to me when he first taught me about magic.

Make the earth, and the sky is also made. Make the good, and the bad is also made. In that case, surely it also held in reverse. There could be no earth without the sky. There could be no good without the bad. Without either, all would be leveled to a flat plane of nothingness. So...

“I think, if I’m going to live properly, I should die properly, too. No matter how hard or painful it is. Otherwise, I’ll just be going back into that room.”

That was, essentially, where that god of undeath was inviting me. Proposing that it was okay for me to deny death and live forever was exactly the same as proposing that it was okay for me to shut myself in that room forever.

“I don’t care what kind of extra incentives he provides, the answer is thanks, but no thanks.” I shrugged and smiled. “I want to live and die as part of their family.”

The god of the flame nodded in silence. Seemingly, I’d given a satisfactory answer.

“So, um... Am I dead?”

“You are not.”

“Then I’m alive?”

“Barely.”

So things were looking pretty bad. I was probably in a death-like state. That was why I’d ended up wandering into this strange place, with its multiversal armillary sphere of circulating souls.

“Then... Could I ask you to return me there, somehow?”

“What good shall come of returning? You need but remain to die as you wish.”

I got the point. I’ll admit it, I probably wouldn’t win. I couldn’t imagine that I could do anything against the god of undeath, not when the undead god blood was already flowing all around my body, and when he was now wary of me and had started to watch my every move.

In the end, I was me and nothing more. Try as I might, I couldn’t be as cool as one of the heroes in the stories. I could see how it was going to end and it wasn’t going to be impressive: with me being killed as I rolled around pathetically on the

ground.

How badly would it hurt? How much would I suffer? I didn’t even want to think about it. The worst case scenario would probably be getting turned into one of the undead, and being thrown into an eternal prison where I was neither dead nor alive.

But...

Even so...

“I want to be able to protect my family. You know?” Summoning up false courage, I smiled an awkward version of a show-off’s smile. No matter how much I embarrassed or sullied myself, at the very least, I wanted to protect my family this time.

Maybe after I woke up, a miracle would occur, and I’d be able to squeeze out a draw. If I could at least weaken him just a little bit, the other three might be able to take some measures against him. Then I could protect my family in at least a small way.

“I decided I was going to return the favor someday.”

Leaving that unaccomplished was worse than being unable to die. It gnawed at me, brought me suffering. So, god, please put me back.

“Please.”

I was kneeling before the god with my head bowed. I hadn’t needed to think about it. The god was silent for some time. I waited patiently in that position for an answer.

“Thou, William, O world-crossing soul, son of Blood and son of Mary.” “Yes.”

“Knowest thou assuredly the weight of life?”

“Yes.”

“And still art thou ready to receive death?”

“Yes.”

“Knowest thou assuredly the despair of death?”

“Yes.”

“And still wilt thou have compassion on all life that vanisheth away?”

“Yes.” I answered without raising my head. “Yes. I’ve understood that at last, thanks to your grace.”

From being in this special place, I was starting to get the picture. Reincarnated souls lost the memory of their previous lives. I, too, had forgotten about this place. It was a necessary measure in order for souls not to be chained to their pasts, for them to establish new selves and new lives. So the reason that I vaguely, just

barely remembered my previous life was probably that this god had shown mercy to a pitiful soul full of regret and self-reproach.

“Thank you, merciful god of the flame, who presides over eternal flux.”

I didn’t know whether I could communicate it as well as I felt it, but I thanked this god from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for making me Blood and Mary’s child. Thank you for making me Gus’s grandchild. Thank you so much.
I can never thank you enough.

“Thine heart speaketh clear. Raise thine head, son of man.”

I lifted my head at last, and my eyes opened wide.

“Thou, William.”

As I looked up, still on my knees, what I saw under the hood of the god of the flame... was the gentle face of a black-haired girl.

“While thou rememberest that readiness, thou art worthy.”

Gracefeel’s emotionless expression softened at last, and a kind smile rose to her face. A pale white hand was offered before my eyes.

“Arise. Vow to me, and let us go together.”

I took her hand.

“Till thy life ends and I lead thee again—”

I went to stand, and at the same time, my consciousness blurred.

“I shall be thy guardian.”





◆

I woke again, my mind still clouded. I was lying on my back. I could see the cloudy night sky.

A snake’s teeth were sunk into my arm. Immortal god blood was being poured into me through a gap in my gauntlet. My arm hurt. Really hurt. And it felt hot.

Heroes surrounded me, all of them undead, layers upon layers of them, vigilantly pointing their weapons at me.

Beyond them, the god of undeath was laughing, confident of his victory.

There was clearly nothing I could do. It was a checkmate position, an endgame state. But I felt the strong pounding of my heart. It was still beating, still thumping out its regular rhythm.

Okay. Then things were going to be okay. A heat like magma inside my chest was gradually pumping around my body in time to my heartbeats. There wasn’t much sensation left in my hands, but I slowly put them together. I’d learned from Mary that this was how you prayed in this world.

“Gracefeel, who presides over eternal flux.” New power was circulating around my body, like a refreshing breeze. I knew instantly how it was meant to be used, as if it was second nature. “Please, go forth with me.”

I would choose my guardian deity, and make my vow. Today was the winter solstice. A day of celebration, when children flew the nest. The day they were given the protection of the gods.

“Benediction?”

Sensing something strange, the god of undeath’s expression twisted. It was not surprise. It was derision toward meaningless resistance.

“Hah. As if being able to use that accomplishes anything. Superficial tricks won’t help you now that my blood has been pumped into your—”
The low growl of a flame igniting interrupted him. White flame erupted from my arm. It wasn’t hot. Instead, I felt that something unholy within my body was being burnt away.

Okay. I could do this.

“Stigmata?”

The badge of honor I’d obtained when I learned about Mary’s prayers—the burns on my arms. My arms had been roasted by the flames of a god.

“Wait, your body—Just how much holy bread have you been eating?!” Though Mary was one of the undead, she had been praying to Mater for my

daily bread every single day. Her constant prayers, and her unbreakable heart, had completely upended the god of undeath’s expectations.

“And I swear this to you, my God.”

— A strong oath makes it easier to receive protection, but you end up letting yourself in for one hell of a rough fate. I remembered Blood’s words, and forced my mouth into a grin. A rough fate? Bring it. If I could beat the hell out of the god of undeath right here and now, that was a small price to pay!
“I dedicate my whole life to you! As your blade I will drive away evil, and as your hands I will bring salvation to those in sorrow!” I randomly thought up a strong oath. Somewhere, I thought I heard the god of the flame—taciturn as ever— let out a small laugh. “This I swear on the flame of Gracefeel, goddess of flux!”

Fires lit up beside me as if in proof. The light from them was a soft, warm glow.

She didn’t just lead souls after death. I was certain that she shone on all things with souls until the moments of our deaths, whether we realized it or not, tirelessly, constantly, and with quiet love and affection.

“So you have gained the protection of Gracefeel.” The god of undeath’s expression was contorted.

“A shame... Truly a shame... I would dearly have liked for you to join my forces. But if she has taken you in, then there is no more use trying.”
Suddenly, I could sense murder in the air. Up until now, he’d been trying to convince me to join him. But from now on, he would be trying to kill me. Both of us were deadly serious. We had, to my regret, reached the stage I’d been trying to avoid: a straightforward fight to the death.

But now... Now, I did not see myself losing!

“God of undeath, Stagnate! I will defeat you, and honor my vow!”

“Young warrior, perish unfulfilled!”

With the clashing of our cries, the final battle began.

◆

“Kill him!”

The god of undeath was first to act. At his command, the undead heroes thrust out their blades. Enclosing on me from all directions, it was a literal wall of steel. There were no ways to escape it, no openings to strike with a blade.

So as power erupted from the depths of my body, I struck out with it in all directions, letting it erupt as it desired. Space bent slightly around me, and an

invisible and sacred pulse surged from within me, sending voiceless screams echoing around the graveyard.

They were not screams of pain. They were cries of repose, which expressed the joy of release. The skeletons turned to dust, and the wall of steel crumbled like sand. Rusty old weapons and armor fell one after another, creating a cacophony of clattering metal. I wasn’t going to risk looking up, but I could sense that a flame had flared into existence at one point in the sky overhead, and had floated into the sky and disappeared.

I’d definitely heard it, a long time ago: Gracefeel’s benediction granted repose and guidance to the souls of the dead. The blessing’s name was Divine Torch.

It was rarely focused upon, because there wasn’t much advantage to having a user of benediction, who was a valuable healer, fighting on the front lines directly against undead. But in this situation, it was incredibly powerful.

The god of undeath gathered together wandering souls once more, and started awakening the corpses sleeping in the graveyard. In response, I prayed again to the god of the flame. Another invisible pulse, and all the lost souls in the area were peacefully guided back to the gods.

“Unbelievable... you only just became a priest!”

Either the speed or the range of my blessing must have taken him by surprise. He was right. I had only just become a priest. But I knew how to pray. I’d been praying all along, watching Mary, learning from her. There was no way it could cause me any hesitation now.

“Acceleratio!” I turned my brain off and charged straight at him. I wasn’t going to use any convoluted plans.

“Khhh...”

I knew from our exchange so far that the god of undeath wasn’t particularly skilled at swordsmanship, or hand-to-hand fighting in general. If he were, I would never have been able to connect twice with my blade, even if I had taken him by surprise. So I didn’t play around with gimmicks. I just closed the distance relentlessly. I just needed to get up in his face. Then, I could strike and strike again with my demonblade, and this time, scatter him to the winds before he even had time for a counterattack!

“Vas...”

The hairs stood on the back of my neck as I heard him speak. Still accelerating sharply, I kicked hard against the ground and felt the strain on my legs as I leaped directly to the side.

“...tare!”

The Word of Destruction, cast with even greater power than Gus could muster. The ground split and exploded. I’d avoided taking a direct hit, but I was disoriented by the cloud of earth and sand that was kicked up, and the lingering effects of that ravaging blast. I stumbled to the ground. The god of undeath had unleashed that magic of destruction at the earth, so close that even he was caught in the blast.

Of course. How had I forgotten? Echoes of the gods could only be harmed by extremely powerful magic or by demonblades. In other words, he had no need to fear the effects of his own magic. The fundamental principle that guided an ordinary person’s use of magic didn’t apply to him. He couldn’t have cared less whether he caught himself in the blast.

I now understood the reason he hadn’t developed great skills in swordsmanship or physical combat. If he could use magic this wicked within a swordsman’s range, he had no need for sword or fist. If someone got too close, he could just blow them both up with magic. There was only one reason he hadn’t done that before now. He’d been trying to convince me to join him.

A secret boss, I’d called him, and he was definitely living up to it. An Echo of the gods. He wasn’t the kind of opponent I could easily snatch victory from just by awakening to a bit of new power. But I still had no intention of losing.

Using magic a little unconventionally was nothing major. Now that I knew about it, I could deal with it. With renewed resolve to crush him here at all costs, I jumped to my feet, while healing all my cuts and minor injuries with the blessing Close Wounds.

The cloud of particulate dust and sand that had been kicked up was still hanging about the area. Silence fell. Where was he going to attack from? In this low visibility, careless movements could leave you open.

As if extending my sense of touch beyond my skin, I searched for mana in operation. If there were any large movements—forewarnings of an attack that could clear out a large area—I would have to jump clear of this place immediately. And if my opponent showed any careless movements to me, I’d jump in close to him and deliver the finishing blow.

As the seconds dragged on, a worrying premonition flashed through my mind.

It was a revelation from Gracefeel, warning against my current actions.

I paused in confusion for a moment. The god of undeath was fighting me. Fervently, with clear intent to kill me. The situation looked evenly matched, so if he kept on fighting... No... wait. Wait.

What if... What if he wasn’t fervently fighting?

“Oh, shoot!” The temple! The temple, hurry! “Acceleratio!”

ran.

ran and ran and ran.

dashed up the hill at full tilt.

Everything the god of undeath had said and done had been a bluff! His surprise, his fervor, his irritation, they were all a show to make me think he was fully engrossed in our battle! And then he kicked up dirt and sand to stall for time...

“Damn it!”

His goal had been to remove the troublesome piece I’d become from the board of battle, and leave me aside while he went after Blood and Mary!

◆

I sprinted and sprinted. I incanted the Word of Acceleration over and over. I pounded up the withered grass of the hill, running at full speed through the cold air.

I thought I understood, but I really didn’t. He was a god who had lived for an unimaginably long time. A being not of this world, beyond human measure.
I thought I had the picture of that being, but it had not been a complete one. If I was to believe his words, perhaps he did view me as someone worthy of a little caution and attention. But that said nothing about how important it was to him now.

He could appear much later to eliminate me or try to change my mind. In ten or twenty years, when I was facing a crisis; thirty or forty, once I developed doubts about whether my choices had led me to the right place; fifty or sixty, once I started to experience the discomforts of old age. Even if I managed to kill the Echo, a human couldn’t do anything about the god himself at the end of dimensions. The god of undeath surpassed human reckoning, and had several chances.

The bigger issues for him were Blood, Mary, and Gus. Now that I had obtained the blessing of the god of the flame, I could return them to samsara. The heroes he had marked and halfway drawn in would be stolen from him. But he wasn’t absolutely sure he could kill me with his current splinter now that his other half had been destroyed by Gus.

He likely coldly calculated the risk and return, and chose to play the fool. He deliberately hammed it up, like some story’s cheesy antagonist, showing me

surprise and anger, and making me temporarily forget the risk of being circumvented. It’s exactly what I was trying to do at the beginning! I tried to get him to focus on me and forget about them, and instead he was the one who made me forget. If I hadn’t had that moment’s warning from the god of the flame, everything would have been over for sure. What a horrifyingly cunning opponent.

I continued to run. Only one thought filled my mind.

Don’t be too late. Please, don’t be too late!

When I made it all the way to the top and the temple came into view, I saw that the main doors had been flung wide open.

“Mary! Blood!”

At the back of the temple... was the god of undeath. He was stretching out his hand toward Mary and Blood, who were covered in wounds. They had probably tried to resist. Gus was sewn to the wall by the black mist, and Blood, standing to protect Mary, was already beginning to crumble.

As soon as I witnessed that scene, I knew. The conclusion was forced upon me. With this much distance... and this little time... I was never going to make it. None of the three were in any condition to deal with him.

The blood drained from my head. Was this really happening? After coming all this way, after even borrowing the power of a god, after finally evening the odds...

was it all really going to end with me being careless enough to fall for a conman’s trick?

“Hah hah hah!”

The god of undeath extended his hand triumphantly, and it seemed to move toward Blood’s skull in slow motion—

But the next instant, that hand was knocked away.

“Huh...?” It wasn’t me. Nor was it Gus, Blood, or Mary.

The one who had knocked aside the god of undeath’s hand was a woman clothed in soft raiment. She was blocking the way to Mary and Blood, shielding them.

I didn’t recognize her. And yet, I definitely felt like I knew her.

Mary’s empty eyes opened wide, and her voice trembled with a wordless sound of amazement and disbelief. Impossible tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

The woman turned toward Mary and smiled. A loving smile, a caressing smile. And then the woman’s form melted gently into the night air, as though it had been no more than an illusion.

Nothing more was needed. The message couldn’t have been clearer.

Mary had always had her forgiveness. She never hated Mary in the first place. But Mary wasn’t looking for forgiveness. Lenient treatment wasn’t what Mary wanted. So she watched over Mary, and continued to scold her as she desired. And this continued, and continued, without her ever removing her protection, for

two whole centuries, until the time came when Mary could forgive herself.

What mother wouldn’t come to the aid of the daughter who loves her in her time of crisis? The god that Mary worshipped with such devotion, Mater, was indeed a great goddess.

Knowing the truth of everything, Mary broke into tears.

The god of undeath froze at the sight of his assured victory slipping from his grasp.

And with deep gratitude to Mater for this unexpected opportunity, Blood and I sprang into action.

◆

“Gracefeel, god of the flame! Repose and guidance!” I immediately made the decision to use benediction. And I was aiming for Mary and Blood.

“Wh—?!”

The god of undeath stared, wide-eyed in a clear state of shock. He surely hadn’t anticipated that I would blast one of my moves at the people I was trying to protect. The blessing I was using was Divine Torch: the invisible, sacred pulse that returned souls to the cycle of reincarnation.

“Tch! Stagnate, samsara! Go astray, guidance!”

He knew what I was intending and unleashed an unholy pulse of countervailing nature, nullifying it. He was standing in front of Mary and Blood, guarding them.

It was a strange sight to see, but because I was targeting Mary and Blood, he had no choice but to protect them. If I launched attacks at him instead, he would probably attempt to take their two souls in the meantime, trusting that as a splinter of a god, he could survive just long enough to complete the task before getting annihilated.

As far as the gods were concerned, their Echoes were disposable. They required time and effort to bring into the world, but could certainly be replaced. He would gladly trade annihilation for Mary and Blood.

But if I managed to hit them with Divine Torch, that would be an entirely different story. I was certain they wouldn’t resist it. They would slip out of his clutches, and return to the eternal wheel.

If that happened, the entire reason he went to the trouble of sending a splinter down to this dimension in the first place would evaporate. It would turn out to have been a complete waste of effort. In order to prevent that from happening, the god of undeath was forced into this strange situation where he had to protect Mary and Blood from me for as long as the focus of my benediction remained on them.

Ironically, his situation was exactly the same as that of a superhero, standing in front of the citizens who need to be protected, in the face of attacks from the villain. His only choice was to put his body in front of them, and protect them from being so much as grazed by my benediction. His attention was divided, distracted with the task of completely negating my moves.

With a breathy grunt, Blood transferred all the strength left in his wounded body into a single downward swing of his favorite two-handed sword. Even if it wasn’t as impressive as Overeater, Blood’s favorite weapon was itself a demonblade, and one worthy of his skills with a sword. It couldn’t be ignored.

The less than a second that the god of undeath spent on a reactionary dodge...

“Acceleratio!”

...would be more than enough for me to fly down the length of the temple!

“V-Vas—”

He attempted to incant the Word of Destruction.

“Tacere, os!”

An instant’s silence was forced upon his mouth. It was Gus. He was still sewn to the wall by the black mist, and he was wearing the world’s smuggest grin. The power that Gus could wield right now was obviously extremely limited, and yet he had interfered in the best possible way at the best possible moment.

— Just learn to use small amounts of magic, sensibly and precisely.

I remembered the words he’d taught me all that time ago. This Word of Silence, this glorious and dastardly attack, epitomized Gus far better than the grand magic that was the Word of Entity Obliteration.

My right foot met the ground. I kicked forward again, closing the distance like a bullet. Left foot. Right foot. The walls on either side of me raced backward like arrows in flight.

I was already upon him—

I screamed a war cry, and then—

Impact. Resistance.

Overeater was buried in his chest.

“Gahk—!”

I pulled it out, and slashed again. Then another slash, and another. The god of

undeath tried to evade and defend, but at this range, I was in complete control.

“Why, you... Damn you!”

Slash. Slash. Slash. The crimson thorns shooting from the demonblade tormented his body.

“Will... Will, son of Mary and Blood... Will, disciple of Gracefeel!”

He glared at me, his murky eyes full of hate. It wasn’t the fake hatred and bloodlust from before. This was true hatred, true bloodlust.

“I will not forget your name! If you will not surrender to me, I will make sure you never sleep easy again!”

He had marked me out now for sure.

“You sound like a two-bit villain,” I said bluntly, and blasted the god of undeath, covered in crimson thorns, with every last bit of purifying power I could draw from the god of the flame.

At last, the formidable Echo of the god of undeath started crumbling away.

If I was afraid to make an enemy of a god, I wouldn’t have defied one in the first place.

“I swear on the flame of Gracefeel...” I pointed the tip of my demonblade at the god of undeath as he gradually vanished. “You will not own me. I will live and die as it should be.”

That was my personal declaration of hostility, and my final farewell to the disappearing splinter of the god of undeath. The Echo replied to my words with a hate-filled stare, his eyes locked on mine as he turned to dust. I didn’t break his gaze until he was gone.

◆

After the god of undeath’s Echo was annihilated, I spent a while on alert, half-expecting a third splinter, or further enemies. Once I was finally sure that we’d won, it wasn’t joy that filled me, but a sense of relief so overwhelming I slumped down to the temple’s floor.

I sat there, the temple around me in terrible shape from the earlier battle, and breathed out a long sigh. He had been a strong opponent, without exaggeration.

Strangely, any awesome feeling of personal accomplishment was entirely missing. Maybe it was because many of the reasons we won were the work of other people.

I wielded the high-level demonblade I’d received from Blood, Overeater. Gus destroyed his Echo’s other splinter early on, which was supposed to be his ace in

the hole. The god of the flame protected me as my guardian. And Mary’s guardian deity, Mater the Earth-Mother, bought us time just when it was most needed.

That wasn’t all. There were all the things that Blood, Mary, and Gus had generously shared with me, which gave me my familiarity with swords, magic, and prayer. Those gifts included something even more important than battle skill, something human, deep at my core.

It took all these things, piled one on top of another, to achieve this narrowest of narrow victories. I could easily have died, and if any one of those elements had been missing, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. It was thanks to the protection of my god, and most of all, thanks to those three. I was blessed to have such people around me.

As I thought about how lucky I was, a pair of arms wrapped around me tightly. “Will... Will... I’m so glad you’re okay...” The friendly smell of fragrant wood burning enveloped me.

“Good job, Will.” A bony hand without any softness messed up my hair. “Hmph. He’s the son of Mary and Blood, blood relation or not. I should

certainly hope he could accomplish this much.” That choice of wording, belittling even when he offered praise.

“Mary! Blood! Gus!” Their voices moved me to tears.

Finally, I got the sense of what I’d achieved. I remembered something very obvious: defeating a powerful enemy like a hero in a story was never my goal. All I wanted was to protect these three, my precious family. I didn’t want to curl into a ball like a coward. That was my only wish, and I risked my life hoping I’d achieve it. And I did.

“I did... I did it...”

I stood up, and fought like I should. I didn’t curl up in a ball and hug my knees.

They were all here, all three of them. I protected them.

“Thank the gods... Thank the gods...” My chest tightened with hundreds of different feelings. Tears trickled down my cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re all safe...” I returned Mary’s hug, and looked at Blood and Gus. They were smiling. They

were all smiling. As if it were contagious, I smiled back through my tears. “Okay!” Blood dragged out the word and shook a fist in the air

enthusiastically. “I think we’ve got a victory to celebrate, and we owe Will a coming-of-age party, too!”

“Yes. This place needs a lot of tidying up, but I think it can wait for a day or two.”

“Indeed. In that case, I have a two-hundred-year-old bottle of dwarven spirits

that’s been waiting for just such an occasion.”

“Firewater?!” Blood said. “Blazing hell, Grandpa Gus, you kept that quiet!” “What, you suggest I should have wasted this fine drink on a child?” “Dwarven firewater?” I asked. “Is that good?”

“It most certainly would be,” Gus said, “if only I could drink it!”

“Oh, come on, old man. Pretend.” Blood sounded exasperated with him. “This is a time for celebration!”

“Yeah. Come on, Gus, drink with us!”

“Will, don’t you go drinking too much. You remember what happened the last time. That had better not happen again, do you understand me?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Man, when you stare at people with your eyes wide open like that, your face looks goddamn terrifying.”

Mary laughed softly, not offended. “It’s not as bad as yours.” Gus burst out laughing. “Very true.”

“Go on then, Grandpa Gus. Show us where you hid the drink.”

As we chatted noisily, and followed behind Gus, Mary and Blood’s knees gave way, and they collapsed to the floor.

◆

For an instant, I didn’t understand what had happened. “Ma...ry? Blood?” The words that came out of my mouth felt very much out of place.

“Ahh... Yup. No good.”

“It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

The two of them attempted to stand several times, but eventually gave up.

Their legs would no longer work.

“It’s just how things are, I’m afraid. Our attachment is gone, we refused to sell our souls to the god of undeath, and we remained faithful to the good gods. It would be foolish to think we’d be allowed to remain as undead.”

“Well, yeah. Gotta say, though, I was hoping we’d get cut some slack until the party ended.”

“Gracefeel is already making great allowances for us, you know. It wouldn’t have been at all strange for us to have disappeared immediately.”

I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I didn’t want to understand. “Uh, so, Will. Me and Mary, this is as far as we go.”

“Y-You’re kidding.” The words spilled reflexively from my mouth. I didn’t

want to accept it. “Y-You’re both playing a trick on me.” My voice was shaking. “This is supposed to be a party, don’t be so mean...”

“Will, you’re a clever boy... You understand, don’t you?”

I couldn’t fight it. I knew, in some part of my head, that things were going to turn out this way. And after that look and those gentle words... I knew it was over.

“You said it so suddenly, I wanted you to just... laugh and say it was just a joke... I wanted you to...” My feelings of denial slowly withered and died. I breathed out deeply, and nothing was left inside but a tinge of resignation and a lonely, hollow sadness.

“Sorry, bud.”

“I’m sorry, Will...”

Both of them might have felt the same way.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“There isn’t.” Mary shook her head. “Even if there were, we mustn’t.”

“It was you who said it, Will. It’s that ‘live and die as it should be’ thing. Okay, sure, we wavered on that for a while... Got there in the end, though! Just took the scenic route. Pretty sure a couple centuries still counts as a scenic route. Just about.”

“Besides, parents are meant to die before their children. That’s a law of nature. A law of the earth.” Mary’s words were fitting for a priest of Mater.

“Mm. Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” That was how things were meant to be. The god of the flame would probably say the same thing.

But—Even so—

“I know I mustn’t say this... but... I can’t help it. I’ll just say it once, okay? Even after everything you’ve said, I’m still not happy to see you die.”

◆

No. No way. I don’t wanna see that happen. I don’t wanna see Mary and Blood die.

These were forbidden words for me, both as a child standing in front of his dying parents, and as a new priest of the god who presided over souls and samsara. They were words that threatened to undo the pretentious declaration I’d made to the god of undeath.

Yet I couldn’t help but say them.

“I want to come back here someday and see you both again. I want to have more fights with you, Blood, and beat you sometimes and be beaten sometimes,

and then we’ll say stupid crap to each other. I want to do chores with you again, Mary, and maybe you’ll tell me how much I’ve improved. I want you to see my kids, my grandkids, and I want you to teach them all kinds of things, like you taught me.” That had been my dream. My sweet reverie, which some part of me had always known would never come true.

“How could you say you’re going to disappear now?! You can’t go! You can’t, I can’t take it! How am I meant to go on without you?!” My voice was trembling. My tears spilled out uncontrollably. “Don’t go... Please... I don’t care if you cheat... Please just stay...”

I knew how pathetic I must have looked to them as they watched me. Crying, screaming, throwing a tantrum. Just like a child. But even so, I had to tell them.

“Mary—”

“Yes, I know.”

They looked at each other and nodded. Then, they both balled their hands into fists, and clonked me on top of the head. It didn’t hurt. It was just a gentle knock.

“No. Now stop acting like a baby.”

“Blood is quite right. Be reasonable.”

After they told me off so gently, I couldn’t contain my unbearable sadness anymore. I cried my eyes out, tears flowing in streams down my cheeks. My face crumpled up, and I could hardly see through the tears. I heaved with sobs, over and over again.

When was the last time I had cried like this? The feelings I was full of wouldn’t even come out as words anymore.

“Hahah, I think that’s the first fatherly thing I’ve done in ages.” “Will didn’t need a lot of looking after, did he?” They laughed together.

“Come on, Will.” Blood turned to me. “We’d do anything for you, you know that. But come on. Some things you just don’t do. How are you meant to go on without us? I’ll tell you how: you find a way. Us humans sometimes lose stuff we think we can’t live without. But what you’ll find is, we don’t die so easy, so long as we keep on eating and sleeping. And we find new things that are important to us, as well.”

Blood pulled me close to him, and for the first time since I was a baby, he hugged me. As expected, it was a hug without a hint of warmth, nothing but hard bone and holes that let the cold air in. He ruffled my hair in the exact same way he’d done ever since I was a child. That absolutely uncomfortable feeling drew tears from me again.

“When you get out there, make yourself a lot of good buds, pick up a few pretty chicks, and have some fun.”

“Blood,” Mary said in a drawn-out, admonishing voice, “you mustn’t encourage him to be unfaithful. Will, always be loyal in love and marriage! Good gracious, this man...” Mary tutted at him.

“Oh, and Will,” she continued, “you swore a strong oath to the god of the flame and succeeded in carrying out deicide. These are the acts of a legendary hero. You have a turbulent fate ahead of you.” Mary was sitting perfectly upright as she spoke. Her words were solemn, like a priest delivering a message from the gods. “There will be times when you will suffer a loss. There will be times when you are blamed unjustly. You may be betrayed by those you help, the good you do may be forgotten, and you may lose what you have built up and be left with nothing but enemies to show for it.”

Her serious atmosphere quickly softened. She beckoned me over to her, and held me tight. “Love people anyway. Do good anyway. Don’t be afraid of loss. Create, don’t destroy. Where there is sin, grant forgiveness; where there is despair, hope; where there is sorrow, joy. And protect the weak from all kinds of violence. Just as you defied that immortal god for our sake.”

She probably understood that this would be our final embrace. “Will, William, my son. My darling son, Blood’s darling son.” I could feel her arms trembling as she held me. Mine were as well. “May the protection of the good gods and the spirits of courage always be with you.”

Mary’s face suddenly looked blurred and doubled to me. It wasn’t because of the tears. It was probably her spectral body, separating out from her physical one. I now saw the slender form of a woman standing there, with luxuriant blonde hair and downcast, emerald-green eyes. She had the look of a mother, graceful and kind.

“Listen,” Blood said. “Always move forward and have confidence in the outcome. All a man needs is determination, and he can try anything. You’ve got a habit of sinking into deep thought. Don’t let it stop you from moving.”

Blood’s form started looking blurred, like double vision, too. I now saw red hair like a lion. Sharp eyes, befitting a warrior. A well-sculpted, muscular body. He bore the look of a father, wild and jaunty.

I engraved their appearances and the words they’d given me into my heart. I was sure I’d never forget them. They would shine upon my life like Gracefeel’s flame.

We stayed like that, in silence, for a while.

Someone behind us cleared his throat. I turned around to see Gus. Four glasses and an expensive-looking bottle of firewater he’d brought from somewhere were levitating in front of him. The sight of him floating there on his own, looking completely out of place, was somehow hilarious. We all cracked up.

After that, we all drank together. The first liquor I’d ever drunk as part of a group of four had a mellow fragrance and strength enough to burn my throat. I would never forget it.

That night, guided by the divine torch that was Gracefeel’s lantern, my parents returned to samsara.