The monastery was quiet and peaceful beneath the night sky. Gauzy moonlight spilled down between the stars, washing away the last traces of the day's bustle.
Only solitude remained.
Silence and deathly stillness were the norm for this ancient building.
But at this very moment, in one of its rooms, a fierce clash was unfolding that was utterly at odds with the atmosphere outside.
Tick, tick, tick...
The room was so quiet that a falling pin would have been audible. Every faint sound of the mechanical clock's gears rubbing, turning, and colliding could be heard clearly.
As could the sound of a pen racing across paper.
Scratch, scratch, scratch!
"..."
Herbert watched expressionlessly as his left hand gripped a quill and danced across the paper, leaving strings of ornate, sinister writing.
Once his left hand stopped, he flipped through the thick dictionary beside him, laboriously translating what "he" had written.
"What."
"Afraid."
"You... tsk!"
[What are you afraid of?]
Looking at the translation he had finally managed to decipher and sensing its mocking tone, Herbert couldn't keep the corner of his mouth from twitching. Irritated, he wrote a question back with his right hand.
"What am I afraid of? You don't know? How could you possibly not know???"
Hah.
What kind of question was that? Not even a little clever.
Instead of sleeping in the middle of the goddamn night, I'm sitting here alone, playing some cross between a Pen Fairy game and a Ouija board to chat with you.
What do you think I'm afraid of?
You, obviously!
After several rounds of testing, Herbert's heart finally sank for good. He had no choice but to accept reality-he hadn't developed a split personality. He really had encountered a ghost.
Fancy left-handed calligraphy was one thing, but there was no way he could spontaneously master six or seven languages belonging to other races.
Admit it!
Something unholy has possessed me. I'm tainted now. Boo-hoo...
Scratch, scratch, scratch!
And once the writing finally switched back to the common tongue, it became even faster.
[Surely you aren't afraid of me?]
Not only did the other party completely disregard Herbert's mildly offensive sarcasm, it even seemed more interested. Its delight practically leaped off the page.
[No way! No way! No way!]
[You're a Holy Knight! How could you be afraid of me?]
Goddammit, this ghost is a bratty little girl, too.
The two of them traded heated barbs for several rounds using the same pen, filling several sheets of white paper with aggressively artistic insults.
A little earlier, after the Holy Mark warned Herbert and he discovered that his thoughts were being silently influenced, he had realized something was seriously wrong-the entity sealed beneath the monastery had broken loose!
This world wasn't safe. Evil gods, demons, unholy entities, devils, Magical Beasts... it teemed with all sorts of dangerous beings.
Every monastery had originally been established to seal away and suppress those special beings that could neither be destroyed nor killed.
Herbert had no idea what exactly was sealed beneath the Misty Monastery, but he was certain of one thing: it was absolutely beyond his current ability to deal with.
You had to be kidding.
This was the Misty Monastery, with several legendary powerhouses stationed here. Even if the sealed entity escaped, showing off wasn't the job of a rookie Holy Knight like him.
With those heavy hitters around, all evil would eventually be brought to justice!
I'd be lucky just to snag a little experience.
Unfortunately, it was a nice idea, but completely useless.
He tried calling for help, but his throat couldn't produce a sound. Even breathing was incredibly difficult.
He tried pounding on the door to make noise, but his hand went limp before it touched the wood. In the end, he could only stroke it feebly.
After every attempt failed, Herbert's "unruly left hand" guided him to the desk, where he had been conversing with the hidden presence ever since.
In the end, Herbert was the first to admit defeat and raise the flag of truce. Wearily, he wrote:
"So what exactly do you want?"
Although Herbert still knew nothing about the other party's identity after all that mutual abuse, he had at least established one thing.
Judging by the attitude revealed in the deity's writing, whatever other malice it might harbor, it didn't seem intent on killing him.
Calling for help? Not allowed.
Seeking death? Not allowed.
Even begging for mercy wasn't allowed!
Seriously, you're forcing me to trade insults with you by letter!
Are you out of your mind!?
[Oh? You finally believe I'm not a figment of your imagination?]
"Yes, yes, yes, I believe you. Happy now? So, O great being, what exactly do you want me to do?"
In his previous life, Herbert had seen far too many tragedies caused by blindly trusting others.
Naturally, he wasn't going to believe nonsense like "I'm just lonely at night and wanted someone to chat with~." That sort of line sounded like it would land someone at least five days in detention.
Apart from your closest family, anyone who showed you unusual enthusiasm was always after something-power, money, looks... there were no exceptions.
[What I want isn't important. You'll find out sooner or later.]
[Hehe. But you, young Holy Knight... have you truly thought through what it means to bargain with an evil god?]
[Are you truly prepared?]
An evil god.
At the sight of that rather jarring term, Herbert instinctively narrowed his eyes, his expression turning serious.
Gods of the evil alignment, the true enemies of justice. They spread blood and fire throughout the mortal world, bringing endless death and suffering. Every Holy Knight would seek to destroy them, no matter the cost.
After a long silence, he finally raised the pen with a grave expression and slowly wrote down the greatest question weighing on his mind-
"This evil god business of yours... are you even legit?"
Scratch!
[?]
Looking at the enormous question mark taking up half the sheet, Herbert curled his lip.
See? Upset already.
Not the least bit composed.
Are you an evil god, or a Harmonic God?
Never mind anything else. Just tell me, what self-respecting evil god keeps someone up in the middle of the night and forces them into a heated insult match?
Perhaps that remark had dealt too much damage, because the little evil god actually fell silent for a full minute.
[I understand. You still don't believe me.]
[Fine.]
The deity said:
[I'll let you experience the terror of an evil god firsthand!]
Huh?
Huh???
An extremely bad premonition suddenly flashed through Herbert's mind. Forgetting about writing, he hurriedly spoke aloud:
"Wait! What are you going to do to m-"
Thud.
Before Herbert could finish, his consciousness abruptly cut out, and his head slammed onto the desk.
He had fallen asleep.
That night, Herbert, who hadn't enjoyed a good night's sleep since arriving at the Misty Monastery, sank into deep slumber.
And he had a dream.
An exceedingly lewd and absurd dream.
In it, alluring young women from dozens of races crowded around him, engaging in one session after another of in-depth academic research.
But just as their discussion reached its climax, those Magical Beast girls suddenly transformed into something else entirely!
"W-wait!!?"
"No, no, no!"
"Stay away from me-"
"Don't come any closer!"
"At least don't be goblins!"
"Not even female ones-"
Before you continue