Chapter 1155: Fate of Demise (6)
“It’s fortunate that I could make time like this before everything comes to an end.”
His memory, left behind in the Archive.
In the heart of the empty black lake within the memory, the Pontiff appeared.
The Pontiff, hands clasped behind his back, gazed at the black lake and spoke slowly.
“Once the Holy War begins, I won’t be able to remain in reality. My current self is practically an empty shell.”
[……]
“Now, even having a brief conversation like this… it’s difficult to sustain without a bit of thought.”
As always, the Pontiff’s peculiar tone, devoid of discernible emotion or inner thoughts.
But Lennok sensed that the Pontiff in this memory, unlike the one he knew, seemed a little tired.
Had he overexerted himself to arrange this meeting, or had he been worn down even before arriving here?
No, perhaps he had already been so utterly worn away for so long that he’d forgotten his original purpose.
As the Pontiff had once told Lennok, from a time so long ago that he couldn’t even remember when it began.
The Pontiff had existed as someone’s god and savior, after all.
[…Sentimental.]
Was Lennok not the only one who thought this about the Pontiff?
For the first time, a voice, broken and fragmented, emerged as his mouth opened.
CRAACK!!
The mere act of speaking shattered and crumpled the surrounding space.
As if continuing to speak was difficult, he raised his gaze as one might handle fragile glass.
[I heard… it wasn’t like this before.]
“Indeed. To be honest, I’m rather pleased. Especially since I know I won’t exist in today’s memory.”
The Pontiff smiled.
“Leaving a trace of oneself in another’s memory is far more… agonizing than one might think. But in this moment, I, too, can remain as a mere memory.”
Was there a reason the Pontiff, who always recognized Lennok in memories, didn’t show such a recognition now?
But unlike Lennok, the owner of the memory seemed utterly uninterested in the Pontiff’s words.
Not because he was ignorant of the Pontiff’s true nature, but rather, because he knew it, rendering such words meaningless.
Leaving him unanswered, the Pontiff slowly began to walk.
“But even the conversation we’re having now is nothing compared to that.”
WHOOOOSH……!!!
The sky, freezing and shattering.
A colossal black ring, covered in pristine white, spun wildly.
“Yes… that is the [Mandala] I’ve only heard rumors about.”
The Pontiff, looking up at it as if dazzled, spoke slowly.
His faint, drawn-out voice seemed unable to conceal its admiration for the black halo spread across the sky.
“A vessel that contains infinite essence. The power to preserve even the death of an Outer God in this world. Is this the materialized outcome of the failure you pursue?”
[……]
“After endlessly breaking and creating, the conclusion you ultimately reached was not for yourself, but a contingency for what comes next…”
The Pontiff’s words twisted with complex emotions. He did not reply.
As if even this conversation was merely a process of confirming facts they both already knew.
After a long silence, the Pontiff was felt moving behind the noise-filled vision.
“It’s a complex feeling. In my lifetime, to achieve something similar, I had to contain the myriad Outer Gods swimming in that sea within my own body.”
The Pontiff smiled and turned his gaze.
“You achieve everything merely by wishing for it, and then you try to discard it all as if it were nothing.”
[……]
“Fate of Demise. Demise of Fate… In my lifetime, I detested that wordplay, but now I suppose I must acknowledge it.”
Leaving ‘him’ unanswered, the Pontiff smiled.
“Which came first, the cause or the effect? Don’t you think your existence will be the answer to a long-standing illusion?”
[…Either way.]
The noise-laced voice broke off, drawing out like oil.
Slowly raising his gaze, ‘he’ spoke.
[A savior, or a god-slayer… or nothing at all.]
“…”
[Whatever comes next, it probably doesn’t matter.]
He closed his eyes.
As if it was difficult to even hold a gaze mixed with noise for long.
[The Mandala is the ultimate insurance, left behind in case everything goes wrong. How it will be used is for my ‘successor’ to decide.]
“…Indeed. Is that so?”
The smile etched on the Pontiff’s lips deepened.
“It is undeniable that among all the Transcendent beings in this world, you were the most exceptional. Did you already know what lay beyond you?”
[……]
“To know, yet to wait like that, makes me all the more expectant.”
The Pontiff, gazing at the black lake, said quietly.
“Whether the Third comes because you resolved it, or you resolved it because the Third comes. Either way, it’s so fascinating that I merely feel a thrill.”
[……]
“What our fate will think as it observes this world. What it will see, and what answer it will provide…”
The Pontiff averted his gaze.
At that moment, their gazes crossed almost simultaneously, beyond the noise-laden face.
Fzzzt-
The noise obscuring ‘his’ vision cleared.
Simultaneously, the noise veiling the Pontiff’s face vanished.
“What would he think if he knew you were ‘waiting’?”
[……]
As if he had known all along and pondered it countless times.
The Pontiff’s face was astonishingly similar to Lennok’s.
A face riddled with scars, as if Lennok’s own had been shredded and sewn back together thousands of times.
The form of a soul so worn down it was unbelievable, even when hidden behind a noble halo and noise.
The moment Lennok gasped at the Pontiff’s face, seen for the first time in this memory.
CRACK!!
Cracks appeared in the sky above the rising Mandala, faintly revealing the other side of the Outer Sea.
From beyond the boundless void, gazes poured towards the ground through the shattered fissures.
Bathed in the affectionate gazes of the myriad Outer Gods from beyond the Outer Sea, the Pontiff murmured.
“In the end, the time granted to us was merely a fleeting moment from the very beginning.”
The Pontiff’s face was enveloped in noise, and a pale halo emerged, embracing his divine form.
Slowly turning, the Pontiff smiled and said.
“It seems inevitability has no intention of coming to see you, but considering the future that approaches, I intend to respect its will this time.”
[……]
“What choice did the Third, who is me, make to not have arrived yet? What did he choose to make you, the Demise, the ‘cause’?”
The moment he took a step, the Pontiff’s form receded into the endless black lake.
“Whether I, who has already changed, can still maintain this conviction after meeting him…”
The Pontiff’s form grew blurry beyond the lake.
But ‘he,’ even through the stained vision, could tell what expression the Pontiff wore.
The Pontiff’s face, as he walked with arms outstretched as if to embrace the sea of darkness spread far ahead.
It was smiling so brightly it sent shivers down one’s spine.
“I intend to confirm that, and then decide our end.”
CRACK!!
The scene of the black lake shattered and fractured like glass.
The landscape of memory, smashing and breaking apart space itself before his eyes.
Lennok found himself back inside the Archive, where the sunset glow now spread.
“…”
A silence so profound it felt as if his ears might stop functioning.
He knew his expression must be shattered, even without a mirror.
What meaning ‘he’ had intended to convey to Lennok through the Pontiff’s words.
What ‘he’ had created and intended to leave behind for his ‘successor’.
Because Lennok could vaguely understand and grasp the meaning just from the conversation in the memory.
Someone’s memory, left within the Archive.
The memory that spoke of his identity while conversing with the Pontiff.
The memory ‘he’ left for Lennok.
CRACKLE……!!!!
With a surging emotional backlash, lightning magic ran wild.
Dark-blue lightning swirled around Lennok, violently sweeping through the Archive.
RUMBLEEEEEEE!!!!!
An immense surge of thunder and lightning exploded, powerful enough to dye even the fading sunset glow dark-blue.
But Lennok stood dazed in the heart of that lightning, unable to do anything.
Only the facts he had learned from the recent memory echoed endlessly in his mind.
Perhaps, Lennok might have been him.
But he might not have been Lennok.
The Pontiff had tried to clearly distinguish and define that fact, and thus did not state everything then and there.
Conversely, it was precisely for this reason that Lennok could understand that fact with utmost certainty.
“…I am.”
Was even the character creation he’d undertaken so lightly a continuous string of these moments?
Had all those choices he made while looking at the monitor screen led him here?
Which came first, cause or effect, and where did it begin?
Fate exists in the intersection of impossible coincidence and inevitability.
Born of fate, rejecting fate, and ultimately, as the Demise of Fate.
Within an infinite cycle of causality where what came first is unknown.
Lennok was himself, yet also another.
“…”
Because he was Lennok, not ‘him,’ he did not possess the power of The Gate.
Because he was Lennok, and yet also ‘him,’ he sought to grasp the power of The Gate once more.
Because even after abandoning everything, something still remained. Because he was different from before, yet still himself.
Growing accustomed to memories that weren’t his own, feeling a sense of familiarity.
He had even recalled the fact that he once possessed it.
RUMBLEEEEE!!!!
The power of lightning magic, which he had sought to research and control for The Gate’s power, grew even stronger.
Intertwined with Ban-gung’s mental image, the lightning magic, forcibly pushed to Level 9, transcended its limits and reached a state of transcendence.
As he comprehended its origin, the strengthening forbidden mental image swelled uncontrollably within Lennok.
At the moment the dark-blue lightning, engulfing the entire Archive, revealed its will of Demise, as if to incinerate spacetime itself.
[Detection of a Transcendent-tier Trait-type Spellcraft Manifestation.]
[Archive Preservation Protocol activated.]
FLASH!!
The golden sphere rotating before Lennok’s eyes expanded at immense speed and rose above the Archive.
The golden star, surging and rotating above the sunset-drenched temple, gleamed and cast its radiant light.
The entire Archive began to revolve around Lennok, instantly transforming the surrounding landscape.
[Internal record information forcibly updated.]
[Conceptual Variable computation. External factor elimination procedure in progress.]
[Computation error due to Transcendent Entity’s ownership authority.]
[Elimination impossible. Recommend evacuation to the Authority Holder.]
WHOOOOSH!!!!
The golden temple, submerged in dark-blue lightning, collapsed and distorted violently.
The moment Lennok, with a hardened expression, took a step forward, gazing at the scene.
[5 seconds until the afterimage of the Archive in the current timeline vanishes.]
[Updating the Special Authority Holder’s spellcraft information and returning them to reality.]
FLASH!!
The golden sphere rotating before his eyes leaped into Lennok’s arms.
Even as it was torn apart and vanished by the lightning, the last remaining golden remnants enveloped Lennok.
A clear, emotionless voice quietly whispered into Lennok’s mind.
[We will be awaiting your return.]
FLASH!!
A blinding white flash erupted before his eyes, and Lennok’s five senses were all overturned and jumbled.
The landscape of the Archive completely vanished, and with a powerful impact, Lennok’s body tumbled backward.
THUD!!
“Cough…!!”
Cold air brushed his cheek. His breath mingled with steam as he gasped roughly.
Suddenly, Lennok was standing on a hill outside the frozen royal capital, where snow was falling heavily.
“Here is…”
WHOOSH!!
Sub-zero temperatures. A biting, knife-like wind. Frozen buildings and roads turned to ice.
The heavy snowfall from the sky and the colossal ice pillars jutting up everywhere felt unnaturally natural.
The landscape of the royal capital had completely transformed in the brief moment Lennok had been connected to the Archive and returned.
Lennok, staring blankly at the snow-covered royal capital, instinctively circulated his mana, observing his body.
With the disconnection from the Archive, the rampaging lightning magic had also temporarily ceased.
But Lennok ignored the surging incarnation of lightning within him and sank into thought.
‘The knowledge needed to steal the Dead God’s Remains that Antares mentioned. That was…’
Although he hadn’t found the knowledge within the Archive, the moment he glimpsed the memory, Lennok understood.
That the method for stealing the Dead God’s Remains and the means by which the remains were preserved were fundamentally the same.
If ‘he’ had dropped the Cold Comet and used a certain ‘power’ to preserve its remains.
Then stealing the Dead God’s Remains, as was the original goal of the Conquest Operation, was also possible.
Ultimately, what Lennok could confirm after witnessing his memory was clear.
The Prestige Domain, holding the Dead God’s Remains and slumbering beyond The Gate.
Ban-gung’s contingency left for Lennok.
The ultimate insurance, left in case everything went wrong.
He had to obtain the Mandala.
The moment Lennok thought this and channeled his mana to summon the Forbidden Armament.
CRACK!!
The glass-colored gauntlet on his left arm began to crack and shatter with a grotesque sound.
The surface of the gauntlet, which hadn’t even scratched in fierce battles, splintered and scattered like glass.
The popping sounds of the gauntlet breaking gathered, eventually echoing with a desperate scream.
[AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!]
“…!!”
Ban-gung’s bloodline, who had become the material for the Forbidden Armament.
The soul of the bloodline, said to be a renowned body collector from the Central City, screamed in agony.
But Lennok instinctively understood why the Forbidden Armament was reacting like this now.
His memory, which he had encountered in the Archive.
Simply by Lennok looking into his memory and encountering a moment that definitely existed once.
The ‘soul’ contained within the gauntlet was crushed and disintegrated, unable to withstand Lennok’s presence.
CRASHHH!!!
“Ugh…!!!”
Blackened ripples scattered across his left arm and shoulder blade.
The violently vibrating gauntlet squeezed and dug into Lennok’s left arm as if to break it.
Black pulsations flowing from the gauntlet’s cracks began to corrode and engulf his arm.
The Forbidden Armament’s form convulsed, clinging desperately as if sensing its imminent demise.
Was this the price for glimpsing a memory he shouldn’t have seen at this point?
Or was it because this memory itself contained the meaning of ‘failure’ more powerfully than anything else?
The moment Lennok, with a hardened expression, wrapped his right arm around the gauntlet and concentrated his will-thought.
“That gauntlet was the key to this Conquest Operation that the Illusionist mentioned.”
A languid voice echoed beside Lennok.
“Is the armament unable to withstand the added weight of the soul, causing it to collapse?”
“Spell Master…?”
A man in a surgical gown stood beside Lennok, gazing at the gauntlet with an indifferent expression.
“To self-destruct, unable to withstand the owner’s presence… quite weak for something called a Forbidden Armament.”
“…”
The suddenly changed landscape of the royal capital and the appearance of the Spell Master directly afterward.
A series of events that Kabahim certainly would not have intended. In that case—
“…Surely, the climate of the royal capital changed because of the ongoing Conquest Operation?”
“Pandemonium’s operations are none of my concern.”
The Conjunction Spell Master nodded with an expressionless face.
In the suddenly freezing weather, he looked perfectly fine, wearing only a thin surgical gown.
“I made a deal with the Illusionist. He said he needed your key right before stealing the Dead God’s Remains. Though I didn’t expect such an entertaining sight.”
“…”
“As much as I’d like to see how the soul within it vanishes… I also have something to receive from the Illusionist.”
The Spell Master, arms crossed, gestured to Lennok.
“Let’s finish this quickly. I need to complete the gauntlet’s modification on the way to the royal capital.”