Skin of the Nameless One

Less than a minute had passed from the beginning of the battle to its end.

Renato and Perly searched every room on both floors of the main house, as well as the side buildings in the courtyard, and found no other dangers.

They returned to the study where the battle had begun to inspect their spoils.

The rusty bronze axes were crudely made and unwieldy. Even if they took them away, they would only be worth their weight in scrap bronze.

Renato picked up a fragment of armor from the floor. Its inner surface was covered in bluish-purple blood vessels and nerve-like black threads, seemingly fused with the metal in a symbiotic bond.

"This is truly... blasphemous."

Perly's voice trembled as she backed away from the shapeless lumps of flesh still twitching on the floor.

"These are definitely not normal magical constructs. Only the Abyss could produce such twisted forms of life. These monstrosities might carry demonic curses... Renato, get away from those lumps of flesh!"

Renato paid no heed to Perly's warning. These animated suits of armor had nothing to do with demons. Such "unique" creations had already given him a rough idea of what was going on. He only needed to confirm it.

A bookshelf in the study held close to a hundred books.

Renato pulled one out at random. After flipping through a few pages, he could tell it was a frivolous novel written by a bard.

"Let me see what this book is... 'His Grace the Duke Is Actually My Pretend Lover.' I knew sorcerers were all a bunch of weirdos!"

"A bunch of ignorant good-for-nothings who spend all day reading books like this..."

Seeing the faint blush on Perly's ears, Renato was speechless. If you want to read it, just read it. What a girl-never saying what she really means.

There were no particularly valuable books on the shelf, nor did Renato find what he had expected.

But books had value in themselves. In this era, aside from copies made through magic, most miscellaneous books still had to be transcribed by hand.

These novels would probably fetch a fair amount of money. They packed up every book on the shelf and stuffed them into the Bag of Holding.

Most of the food in the kitchen had long since spoiled, and the odds and ends were worth little. With limited space, Renato took only a roasting rack and two large iron ladles.

A circuit of the hall turned up nothing valuable. The previous group of adventurers had probably looted it.

Looking up toward the second floor, Renato had a feeling he would find his answers there.

Renato and Perly finished searching two bedrooms and a sitting room, coming away with a sizable haul.

They found plenty of everyday odds and ends: a silver cigarette case, a brass fountain pen, a small toolbox...

Though small, these items were all useful and could be sold.

In one bedroom, Perly discovered a hidden compartment beneath the bedside cabinet. Inside was a small velvet pouch containing twelve silver coins and forty-seven copper coins.

The unexpected find thrilled the young mage. Convinced there must be more hidden compartments full of money, she went to search the other bedroom again.

Renato took the opportunity to head to the end of the corridor, where the owner, Gnessa, had her bedroom.

The sorcerer's room was not what he had imagined. There were no extravagant decorations or strange magical effects. It was small, much like a modest guest room at an inn in the outer district.

A single bed stood against the wall, covered with a yellowed linen sheet. A brass oil lamp hung above the bedside cabinet, its shade coated in dust and its oil long since dried up.

Beside it stood a sturdy oak desk. Its surface was unusually bare, without even a candle.

Yet a book lay neatly in the very center of the desk.

It immediately drew Renato's gaze. He reached out and touched the grayish-yellow leather cover. Its texture was fine and supple, unlike parchment or any other leather goods.

He knew this material all too well. It was what the lingering memories of his cultist past had once craved most: a Human Skin Book.

He opened the flyleaf. The writing within was in deep purple ink, its characters twisted and grotesque, belonging to no known language on the continent. Tiny, indescribable symbols seemed to lurk among the strokes.

Now he had a fair idea of why the owner had disappeared.

Renato had intended to turn and leave, but the memories of this body's former owner made it impossible to look away.

Countless dark, convoluted pieces of forbidden knowledge-obtaining even a fraction would grant power beyond a mortal's imagination.

Reason told Renato to throw the book away immediately and steer clear of any unknown danger.

But he needed power. If a Harpers spy tracked him down tomorrow, he would have to abandon everything he had gained in Fried City and flee once more.

No, it might be worse. I might die, and Perly could get dragged into it too...

Renato had seen the blasphemous spells recorded in the Human Skin Book. Even a skeletal illiterate could "read" them, though the price was often madness...

But he was different. Renato had systematically studied Deep Speech. He could understand these bizarre characters and knew the warning signs of various strange phenomena. This body's former owner had spent years scheming to acquire a Human Skin Book.

As he hesitated, Renato placed his hand between the pages and gave a helpless, bitter smile.

He had already made his decision. All this deliberation was merely an attempt to convince himself.

He had no choice. In this benighted other world, he had to possess power.

The deep purple ink on the pages seemed to come alive, rearranging itself inside Renato's mind and casting grotesque shadows.

He grew dizzy, but at the same time understood the meaning of the words. They were the book's name.

"Skin of the Nameless One."

He drew a deep breath and placed the book in the Bag of Holding.

The two thoroughly looted the house, stuffing even everyday supplies such as a pewter kettle and candles into the Bag of Holding and their pockets until they could fit nothing more.

Amid Evan's profuse thanks, Renato returned to the Adventurers' Guild at noon and went to the front desk to turn in the quest.

Then came the tedious reporting process: filling out stacks of repetitive forms and mission reports, submitting them for approval, then being told that an extra space at the beginning had ruined the formatting and that he had to take them back and fill them out again.

Destroying four animated suits of armor had taken Renato only one minute. Filing the guild's quest paperwork took several hours.

After wasting the entire afternoon in the guild hall, Renato finally received his reward just minutes before the front desk closed.

Twenty silver coins, 1,000 experience points, and a bottle of magical potion.

[Equipment]

Primordial Soup Extract: This potion is sealed in a glass container. The liquid inside is an unsettling, translucent tar-black, with the consistency of thick mucus. It constantly writhes slowly of its own accord. After drinking this potion, you have a 50% chance of gaining 2d4+2 maximum HP. This effect does not apply if your maximum HP exceeds 100. You have a 20% chance of developing a minor physiological mutation lasting 1 hour, such as your skin becoming cold, clammy, and slick. You have a 30% chance of taking 1d8 psychic damage.

Requirements: Constitution 14, Wisdom 14

Rarity: Rare

A rare-quality potion-the highest quality Renato had encountered so far.

According to the guild, Evan had purchased the potion from the previous adventurer who had ventured into the mansion. He had thought this potion left behind by his aunt would fetch a fortune, but Identify could not determine its effects at all. It could only establish that it was a magical potion.

The guild's mage believed it was probably the product of a failed brewing attempt or a mixture of several potions, incapable of producing any definite effect. That was why the spell could not identify it.

But Renato knew that was not the case. The reason it could not be identified was simple: the potion contained alien matter and knowledge. Its underlying nature lay far beyond the shallow magical understanding of the guild's mage.

It was an attempt by the faithful to transcend mortality, cross the boundaries of the senses, and glimpse the true world.

During his time as a Dakoul Cultist, Renato had drunk many such potions himself, all to hear Dakoul's words with his own ears and draw closer to this "true god."

Renato still remembered having once "seen" Him, but not with his eyes, nor with any bodily sense. It was simply that, during the sacrificial ritual in which his skull had been cut open and his brain laid bare, His "gaze" had lightly brushed across Renato's existence.

In that fleeting glance, Renato had witnessed the eternal shadow spanning the universe, devouring and propagating itself. No, it was not a form. Form was a debased prison. It was the end of all civilizations, the embers left after countless stars had cooled...

The maddening thoughts nearly burned through his reason. Renato pressed himself against a wall and gasped for air like a drowning man.

His body forcibly cut the recollection short. The human instinct to survive gained the upper hand at that moment. His heart pounded, and cold sweat soaked his back.

I can't keep thinking about it, or else...

After sitting by the roadside for a while, Renato wiped the sweat from his face and said, still shaken:

"Was that a hallucination? That was far too eerie. Well, it looks like I'll have to think carefully about how to read the Skin of the Nameless One. I can't rush it..."