Chapter 73: Chapter 73

The inside was still pitch-black. The party lit the torches they had prepared. There was no sign of the beast. Those who had participated in the extermination operation as the scouting unit boasted loudly about their exploits.

Their boisterous voices echoed through the empty beast den. The group, numbering about thirty, arrived at the entrance to the deepest of the deep layers.

"So, Ran. What should we do now?"

Terrence asked Ran. Ran snorted lightly. From the black abyss, which seemed to connect to the bottomless pit, an unpleasant demonic energy was leaking out.

"The boss beast is in there. We need to eliminate it."

"The boss beast—do you mean that giant bear beast? Didn't you take care of it before?"

"It just lost its form for a moment, but it wasn't completely annihilated. That thing might not have been the real one, either."

"Hmm, so you're saying it's definitely not an ordinary beast."

"Yes. They call it a 'wraith' on the outside. As long as the dark mage who summoned it is still breathing, it's a stubborn creature that can revive any number of times."

Terrence, who had been quietly listening to what Ran was saying, flinched. His words could have been offensive to the demon-born companions. Terrence glanced around warily and pulled Ran aside, away from the party.

"You'd best watch your words. You know well that even the demon-born had no choice but to rely on the power of the beast, don't you?"

It was something he hadn't known. He didn't know each and every origin story entwined with their tragic circumstances.

Terrence let out a quiet sigh.

"Anyway, for now, all we can do is trust you. I'm depending on you."

Their short break was over. The faces of the people gathered at the entrance were resolute. Beyond this passage awaited a new world.

Ran, who stood in the very front, suddenly looked back.

Each pair of eyes held different stories and sparkled in their own ways.

Among those whose names he didn't even know, quite a few were demon-born. They did not know that Ran had once been an inquisitor.

'I've become someone these people are relying on.'

Feeling awkward, he scratched his head. His gaze wandered nearby.

Tascar, clearly tense; Ragna, so cheerful and confident; Sigurd, with both hands folded over her lower stomach, and Terrence with his arm around her shoulders; and Rev.

'Come to think of it, compared to my situation, the relationship between Sigurd and Terrence isn't even surprising.'

The absurdity of it made Ran let out a dry chuckle.

Finally, he met Iel's eyes.

That thought came to him suddenly.

If not for him, the one standing here would probably have been Peco.

Corbinian and Eden threw away their lives to take vengeance on the emperor and the Holy Church, yet, paradoxically, they ended up saving Priest Cyrano's life.

If not for the purpose of returning to Margherita and searching for the meaning of life, would Armand have chosen to sacrifice himself?

No, from the start, if not for Renard, Armand wouldn't have even been in Orvik.

Gima's last words came to mind.

A tangled skein of fate had wrapped around Ran and Iel.

There was no sign that any god had intervened in his fate.

It felt like passing through a formless veil.

For a brief moment, his vision darkened, then cleared again.

Though Ran was nervous inside, to his surprise, there was no change; the surroundings continued from where they had left off.

Ran looked back. The others were following him in, one by one. They shared similar impressions.

"I was feeling anxious, thinking something would be inside, but..."

The most flustered was Tascar. Hurriedly glancing about, he nodded heavily when he met Ran's gaze—as if to say, yes, this is the path we crossed.

"I'll keep leading. Something might jump out at us, so everyone protect Sigurd. Iel, come here."

Keeping his eyes forward, Ran only reached his hand back.

Iel, hurrying over on quick steps, took his hand and looked up at Ran. His back looked even broader.

'Somehow, the atmosphere seems different.'

She couldn't put her finger on it—but the feeling was there.

'Men speak with their backs.'

Her brothers at home used to say that as a catchphrase.

Perhaps because she felt a sudden sense of comfort. People and memories from Egraine she had forgotten surfaced abruptly.

'Ran is as strong as the other brothers. Maybe, even stronger.'

Egraine: the powerful northern noble family that declared neutrality and closed off their fiefdom just before the civil war broke out.

Their widely known epithet: the family of the sword.

Though she had no ambition to become a warrior herself, thanks to her siblings, Iel developed an eye for swordsmanship.

'Maybe even with the Third Young Master...?'

A cold wind brushed against her skin. Startled from her reverie, Iel looked up. In the closed cave, a strange phenomenon was occurring.

'Wind, all of a sudden?'

The change was faster than she could process. With each step, the landscape morphed. The cave ceiling and walls gradually turned a dark crimson, as though exposing raw flesh.

Ran kept walking, unshaken. Iel looked back. Others also felt the area's changes and were confused. The transformation happened slowly, as if tightening around those who were anxious.

"Damn it, ragna! Don't leave my side. Sister, over here, too!"

"U-uh, uncle. Is this really just like the stories say?"

"Yeah, it's definitely real."

As civilization advanced, the authority of the gods had been steadily declining in the empire. Even the Holy Church couldn't avoid being swept along by the tide of change.

Meanwhile, the Northmen always remained as they were. Choosing to stay in a human's position, they sought ever deeper glimpses of the spiritual world.

Tascar, too, pursued physical strength, yet was a warrior who could immerse himself in such ideas.

Even among transcendent gods, there were clear distinctions of rank. The scope and power of their intervention in the mortal world varied according to their status.

Tarok cleverly broke the gods' tacit agreement.

He didn't wield power directly over humans, but only twisted a small, limited space of the world.

'It really is a trap dug by a god.'

No one knows what fate awaits humans ensnared in such a trap. However slight, once divine power is at work, causality remains beyond human understanding.

Yet, the Northmen, who reveled in the mysterious, passed down detailed stories depicting this irrational space.

On the barren earth, not a speck of life grew; only gray ash and dust rolled.

Above the dead land, under a blood-red sky, the lackeys of a wicked god wandered in packs.

Caught in the flow of aeons.

In the middle of endless emptiness, one would face a clutch of black flames.

Tascar let out a short sigh. In his childhood, he vividly recalled the old crone's eerie voice chanting Tarok's curse to him.

Now grown into a full-fledged warrior, the vision of the small hell flashed in Tascar's eyes.

Ran cupped Iel's cheeks. Then, looking past her, he gazed quietly at the others who wore the same blank, dazed expression as the girl.

"I'll be right back."

He did not know how to offer gentle words of comfort. After confirming that she had calmed down a bit, Ran turned immediately around.

The black flames—or, to be exact, something shrouded in black mist—writhed ominously.

Crows flew in erratic paths across the red-misted sky above.

Ran, raising his head to look, lowered it again nonchalantly.

He approached without hesitation.

He had faced wraiths once at Gima's family, and once at Haskinderun.

'This one definitely seems more dangerous than the ones back then.'

He reached for Nachal. Suddenly, Ran stiffened. A strange vibration emanated from his right hand.

"Keep going. Don't stop."

It was a voice he heard for the first time, but instantly recognized.

Nachal's voice resonated not in his ears, but in his mind.

"I've been waiting, priest."

Now, this voice was not Nachal's, but another's. Ran unconsciously drew his sword.

From drawing the blade, the swordsman's senses immediately sharpened. He was used to Nachal's sword-call by now. But this time, Ran sensed something off.

The sound didn't cut off—it continued.

The thin sound grew heavier and deeper.

A bizarre, immense resonance expanded into something incomprehensible to human senses.

He tried to cover his ears, but couldn't sense his limbs. It was only after a moment that he realized he hadn't closed his eyes—they had gone blind.

Death came in an instant.

'When did it happen?'

He still retained enough conscious thought to look back over events.

He must have been struck down the moment he drew Nachal.

'Did I let my guard down too much?'

That was all. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novęlfire.net

He found death to be less significant than he had thought. Next came emptiness. And then...?

"How long are you going to stay like that? Open your eyes already."

He did as the voice said and opened his eyes. Two giant beasts were staring straight down at him. Meeting their eyes, Ran immediately closed his again.

'Ah, in the end, I couldn't return to Quersa.'

Quersa, the land where noble souls gather.

He felt a bit resentful. Even though, at the end, he'd committed enough sins to merit punishment, the good he had done before must have been on par with any priest.

"Seems you're mistaken about that."

"Priest, at this rate, you're really going to die."

His eyes snapped open.

"All right then. Let's see how it goes."

Like a man barely awakened from a deep nightmare, Ran's eyes darted everywhere.

The two beasts sat like people. Ran recognized one of them.

It wasn't a vision, but a materialized Nachal, sitting with arms folded, glaring at him.

The one who kept talking was the beast sitting next to Nachal, the one whose unfamiliar voice he had heard before drawing the sword.

"You must be curious. I am Yacha."

The beast who called himself Yacha let his legs fall out of their cross-legged position and put one knee up.

The two beasts looked down at him from above as if observing a trifling wretch.

Ran could do nothing. Only his head sat atop the ground.

"Ha, what a sight this is."

"Let me clarify that point. Meeting you as you are now required this method."

"I acknowledge it was rough and rude. But since bringing you here involved Nachal helping out in many ways, let's call it even."

"Yes, I helped a lot."

"Be aware that, even as things are, we're expending a lot more than necessary."

"Yep, so let's end this quickly."

Ran listened blankly to the banter of the two beasts, or perhaps demons.

He emptied his mind. He waited for composure to settle in.

"But tell me, why is it you're a priest?"

The will-o'-the-wisp flickering in Yacha's eye sockets flared intensely, then subsided. The breath swirling behind his jaw guard hovered in a mist between sharp lower teeth.

Perhaps it was because he had lost his senses, but the stench of demonic energy was not present.

"I came all this way to find that out myself."

"That's wry. That woman wouldn't have chosen and manipulated you before us, either."

Nachal nodded vigorously from beside him.

"Asriel. She's a good woman. Truly beautiful. Her kindness—and her 'heart'—in every way."

Ran's eyes widened. His mouth dropped open involuntarily.

'Woman? Did they say?'

Is it even allowable to speak of a god's gender as if they were human? Regardless, Nachal's words kept echoing in Ran's ears. Iscarang may have even trained him for this moment with 'Asriel, you bastard.'

"Good. If you remember this when you wake up, then like Nachal, I, too, will stay by your side and observe you. But what if you don't remember?"

"That'd be a problem."

Ran rolled his eyes and glared at the two demons.

"If you're going to talk, try explaining it in a way I can understand instead of babbling to yourselves."

"Heh. I'd like to, too, but it's not yet time. Well, when that time comes—"

Yacha held out his palm. Growing nearer, it blocked all his vision.

Only the demon's voice echoed hollow in the void.

"—I will surely apologize for my rudeness to you."

Fresh air tickled his nose. It was the outside air, for the first time in so long.

Ran struggled to open his eyelids.

"Huh? Oh! Ran! Ran opened his eyes!"

The sky was blue. Wisps of clouds drifted above. Lying still, he savored the scent of grass and the song of birds.

"Ran! Are you awake? Terrence! Come quick!"

Ran frowned. He felt as if he'd been woken from a deep sleep by all the noise. His head throbbed.

Iel sobbed, burying her face into one of his shoulders. Rev, holding onto his other shoulder, was crying and sniffing, mumbling something through his tears, and in the end, Ran was forced to push himself up.

A vast blue sky stretched out above an endless earth. Even the snow-capped mountains on the horizon were visible.

Ran's eyes were unfocused. He simply gazed distantly at the expansive landscape.

"Ran. Can you see me?"

Ran's eyes slowly shifted to the side.

"Yes! It seems your head is fine after all. What a relief!"

Those who had gathered around them in silence cheered. They had all been worried for Ran.

Terrence checked carefully to see if there were any further injuries.

Ran hung limply and just looked at him quietly.

"Terrence, are you a follower of the Holy Church?"

Terrence flinched. It was a sensitive question. He could feel the subtle gazes on him.

"Uh, well. I'm not really religious."

The attention that had been focused on Terrence now shifted to Ran.

"They say Asriel is a woman."

Terrence just stared. He wasn't a believer, but at the very least, knew the boundaries one shouldn't cross as a human.

"On second thought, maybe you did hit your head hard."

Terrence hurriedly pushed Ran back down.