Chapter 432: Palace of Memory (2)
At the same moment the Pontiff spoke, Lennok’s consciousness, flowing along Amila’s memories, also awoke.
He was startled, almost screaming.
“……!!!”
Goosebumps rose on his skin.
Lennok wasn’t directly peering into Amila’s memories.
He was forcibly recreating the mental imagery emerging from the deepest part of her mind by randomly injecting magical power and electrical signals into her head.
Strictly speaking, this scene could be said to be nothing more than a faint afterimage, not even Amila’s true memory.
Yet, a fragment within this memory, which should be nothing more than that, was recognizing the observer beyond the memory, where he existed, and speaking to him.
That simple act instilled a more powerful sense of alarm in Lennok than anything else.
The Pontiff smiled subtly, as if understanding Lennok’s feelings.
“Huhu… you needn’t be so afraid. As you can see, we in this memory have no power at all.”
‘…….’
As he said, no aura could be felt from the Pontiff, who sat at the center of the pure white palace.
This scene was, by all means, an image created based on Amila’s memory.
Young Amila Bainjer knew how great a person the Pontiff was, but she couldn’t perceive how powerful a monster he truly was.
Perhaps because she’d only caught a glimpse of his face, mixed among tens of thousands of followers, the Pontiff’s face appeared blurry, just like everyone else in the memory.
Only the faint halo glowing behind his back showed how Amila had perceived him.
“Come closer to me. We don’t have much time. I wish to enjoy this peculiar coincidence, if only for a moment…”
Lennok’s actual body wasn’t present; he was merely observing this memory as if watching a screen beyond a camera.
So, where was the Pontiff looking when he spoke to Lennok?
But such facts seemed utterly unimportant to him.
Like a camera slowly zooming in, the focus shifted past tens of thousands of followers, settling on the Pontiff.
Even as he approached and magnified, the blurry face never sharpened.
Unlike the majestic sculptures depicting the dooms of the Outer Sea, the elaborate decorations, and the grand pantheon, only the Pontiff’s face remained as blurry as if erased by a brush.
The Pontiff gazed at Lennok, slowly leaning back in his chair.
“You seem curious how this is possible.”
‘…….’
“It’s simple. This memory within the mental image is also myself… from the moment I am recognized as the master of the cult, this fragment is also myself.”
The Pontiff chuckled softly and continued.
“It doesn’t matter what timeline, what world I am in. The moment I perceive and identify myself, I become both myself and not myself…”
The Pontiff’s explanation was both incomprehensible and somehow understandable.
Did it mean that the moment he was recognized and accepted as the entity known as the Pontiff, regardless of the moment, he became self-aware and gained a perception beyond reality?
A definition and mode of existence utterly incomprehensible by ordinary human common sense, like a pure concept.
Could something that exists and is defined in such a manner even be called a living creature?
Yet, despite this, Lennok felt himself accepting those words deep within his heart and naturally asked,
‘Are you… saying that’s possible for a human?’
A mental image that couldn’t be conveyed through words. But the Pontiff nodded as if he understood Lennok’s question.
“Because I am certain. No one can possess a more colossal ego than me. In every timeline, I have existed longer than anyone else, and I will go mad before anyone else.”
‘……Go mad? You already…?’
A pronouncement that couldn’t be dismissed. But what did it mean for the Pontiff to assert it as a prophecy from his own lips?
The Pontiff closed his eyes. No, Lennok knew it even though he couldn’t see his face.
“Amila, that child, was perceptive enough to correctly recognize my existence, but her sensory organs were not mature enough to fully embody me… But precisely because of that, we can now communicate in the form of a dialogue.”
‘…….’
“It’s possible because we are encountering our own selves in a retrospective form, as if looking back at a past timeline and saying, ‘That’s how it was then.’”
‘…….’
“Perhaps in your timeline, the real me is already… huhuhuh.”
The Pontiff’s strange laugh trailed off without finishing his sentence.
Though he said nothing explicit, the mere implication of his words conveyed an ominous feeling.
The Pontiff as young Amila remembered him. Did this mean that a dialogue with the Pontiff was only possible when remembering a relatively faded memory and past moments?
He still felt no power or presence from him.
Rather, precisely because of that, Lennok could more clearly realize how absurdly transcendent the Pontiff was.
The leader of a group that gathered millions of followers to worship the gods of the Outer Sea. Even facing his mental image and hearing his thoughts was not to be taken lightly.
Was he not said to be a monster who, despite possessing knowledge and power comparable to an Ascendant, constantly paid attention to the mundane world?
Lennok perfectly understood at this moment that those words were not an exaggeration in the slightest.
While thinking that he could never truly comprehend the being smiling before him, Lennok concealed his fear and asked,
‘Do you truly believe that worshipping and praising the dooms of the Outer Sea is the right answer?’
The Pontiff did not reply.
Lennok asked again.
‘What do you intend to do by gathering all the consciousness and beliefs of this world?’
“Originally, a more dramatic encounter awaited us…”
The Pontiff muttered in a powerless voice.
“The machinations of omniscience twisted it. It’s regrettable, but in a way, I don’t think this is so bad either.”
‘…….’
A peculiar tone, making his intentions impossible to guess.
The Pontiff had called Lennok because he had something to say to him, but he had no intention of listening to Lennok’s words.
As he said, it was communication barely in the form of a dialogue.
Was that truly all this transcendent being wanted to convey to him?
“We still have a few more opportunities… and one of them is already right before us.”
The Pontiff smiled.
At that moment, the tens of thousands of followers, who had been marching in the festival as if the two of them didn’t exist, burst into laughter simultaneously.
[Hahahaha.]
[Hahahaha.]
[Hahahaha.]
Only the overlapping voices of tens of thousands of people laughing simultaneously echoed through the sky of the pure white pantheon.
Amidst the terrifying, utterly chilling bursts of laughter, the followers stiffly turned their heads in unison toward Lennok.
Laughter vibrated as if to burst his eardrums. But the Pontiff’s quiet voice was heard with utmost clarity.
“I won’t expect much… The snake guarding the well was consumed by lingering attachment, and no one will remember their mission.”
Kugugugugu!!
At that moment, the magnificent palace within the memory began to crack and collapse from its very foundations.
Tens of thousands of followers fell through the endless fissures, laughing incessantly.
As Amila’s memory came to an end, this mental image, too, could no longer maintain its form and began to dissipate.
This was likely because her memory of the Pontiff, seen in her childhood, ended at this point.
The Pontiff smiled faintly, as if gazing at Lennok beyond an unseen camera.
“But if this incident can buy us even a little reprieve… perhaps the day we finally join hands is near.”
‘What on earth are you trying to…!’
Thump!!
The pure white palace. The central area where dozens of statues stood upright collapsed, and Lennok’s consciousness sank to the bottom.
Amidst the collapsing Palace of Memory, the Pontiff remained seated until the very end, accompanying the world’s destruction.
For some reason, Lennok felt that this image of the Pontiff resembled the objective he desired.
The Pontiff continued to watch Lennok’s fading perspective as he descended endlessly, and said,
‘The day we meet again is not far. Until then… take care of yourself.’
Paaat!!
At that moment, Lennok’s consciousness instantly surged upward, escaping the deepest part of Amila’s memory fragments.
It rapidly bypassed the vivid memories she had experienced throughout her life, seizing and reconstructing the most recent mental images.
He saw Amila and the priests preparing a ritual outside the city, following someone’s orders.
The moment they plunged knives into the hearts of the priests lying outside a cave and performed a hand seal.
Whoosh!!
“Huu…!!”
Lennok, who had bounced out of Amila’s head as if by a lie, staggered slightly and stood up.
“Evan!”
Cassia supported Lennok’s stumbling body.
“What, did you really go and see something inside me?”
Amila, who had been lying down and watching, grinned.
“It feels pretty creepy. Whatever you saw, it probably wasn’t a pleasant memory.”
“Haa, haa…!!”
Amila didn’t know.
She didn’t know that Lennok had just encountered the Pontiff’s consciousness directly during the process of reconstructing the countless memories he’d triggered in her head.
Lennok, his shaking gaze steadying his mind, quickly organized what needed to be done.
Reflecting on the Pontiff’s message could wait.
It was more urgent to interrogate her about the scene Lennok had just witnessed.
Click!!
Lennok drew his pistol, aimed it at Amila’s temple, and asked in a cold tone,
“You people, this body wasn’t the main body, was it?”
“…”
Amila fell silent for a moment at the unexpected certainty, and Cassia’s eyes widened.
“You weren’t afraid of death; you were manipulating things from outside the city from the start, weren’t you? Were you using the forbidden art of human sacrifice?”
“Oh, I thought I failed, but you saw even that?”
“Answer me.”
Chii-iik…!!
He pressed the blazing muzzle, hot from consecutive shots, against her forehead. Smoke rose with the smell of burning flesh, but Amila didn’t even blink.
“If you know that, you shouldn’t kill me here.”
“…”
“The moment I, the caster, die, all the memories this doppelganger experienced… they will flow into the main body.”
Amila laughed even as the flesh on her temple melted away.
“I, as a doppelganger, don’t know, but the moment I die, the real Amila Bainjer will probably understand. What kind of technique you, Evan, researched and obtained, and how essential that talent is to the cult.”
“What did you say…?”
Cassia’s mouth parted slightly, an expression of disbelief on her face.
Amila enjoyed Cassia’s reaction and continued speaking.
“If I were the real Amila, I’d leave immediately and then slowly look for another opportunity. I’d wait without ever leaving a trace, and then stab you in the back when you least expect it.”
Amila giggled, looking at Lennok’s hardened face.
“How about it? Aren’t you scared? If you want to prevent that, what should you do? You’ll have to keep me alive as long as possible and search for the real one, otherwise…!”
Bang!!
No more answers were needed.
Amila’s head violently snapped back for a moment, then she collapsed powerlessly, splattering blood.
Lennok briefly looked down at Amila’s blood-splattered corpse, then slowly turned his head and called to Cassia and Pavlen Atwood.
“Please search the belongings of the other priests. I will personally confirm the Bishop.”
“…Are you sure? If the doppelganger’s memory really transfers to the main body…”
Lennok shook his head at Cassia’s worried words.
“As long as there’s no way to confirm the truth, we don’t need to be dragged around here.”
“…”
“What if what the Bishop said was a lie, and the doppelganger’s memory transfers in real-time? Then we would only be providing the Bishop with another means of obtaining information. In that case, it’s right to kill her here and now and go after the main body.”
Saying that, Lennok immediately pulled out his phone.
“I’ve roughly confirmed the location of their main body. I’ll call for reinforcements right now and begin the pursuit.”
He had contacted people who could help him right after talking to the Dean, precisely to prepare for moments like this.
He had no intention of being satisfied with merely catching a doppelganger. Lennok intended to eradicate the cult’s lingering threat from its roots.