Chapter 16

57

When the True Creator descended, whether beneath the clear sunlight of the outside world or the lightning-streaked skies of the Forsaken Land of the Gods, every Secrets Suppliant felt unprecedented Tranquility and joy. Like ships returning to harbor, like wanderers finding their homeland, the true god of their pathway had come to earth. The ravings that tormented them and also guided them quietly faded away. Their world had never been so silent.

In the seconds before the god descended, during the fiercest moments of that brief struggle between angels and higher beings, the True Creator's frenzied ravings and roars had nearly deafened them. Loss of control and madness erupted one after another, but once they survived those few moments, they could attain genuine peace of body and mind. They stubbornly crawled back up, pieced themselves together, prayed, and fell to their knees. Kneeling amid flesh and blood, they prayed without daring to stop for even a moment.

In a house in the City of Silver, Lovia's mouth was full of blood. At the height of her agony, she had even bitten all ten of her fingers and every tooth to pieces, all while clutching the skull tightly to her chest. She had thought she would die, that she would die before seeing the light with her own eyes. But she had not.

Her flesh repaired itself, and she struggled to prop up her upper body. Amid the silence, she gazed through the narrow window at the sky filled with lightning and thunder. The change in the Lord terrified her, yet a faint anticipation also began to stir.

Alternating between a Door Pathway Sealed Artifact and teleportation through the Spirit World, Edward covered enough ground to circle Tingen several times within five minutes, finally shaking off the Eternal Blazing Sun's gaze. In a small grove on the outskirts of Backlund, the Abyss Angel emerged through Spirit World teleportation and laughed happily at the feeling of finally having solid ground beneath his feet. He straightened his scorch-covered clothes, feeling as though he had just escaped a fire.

"The Eternal Blazing Sun really is petty. He was the one who sent an angel to kill me in the first place, and when that angel proved inferior and I killed him, he was the one who came looking for trouble. I even left him a hand and the characteristic."

Edward brushed the dust off his clothes, took off his badly burned coat, and draped it over his arm. Fortunately, his white shirt was still reasonably neat. Now that he was within Backlund, there was no need to travel through the Spirit World again. He could use the Door Pathway Sealed Artifact to enter the general vicinity of an Aurora Order base directly.

His tortoiseshell glasses had gone missing at some point, and Edward instinctively narrowed his eyes. Of course, those expensive glasses had plain lenses. A Mythical Creature could hardly have problems with his eyesight; the Monarch of Decay simply needed such an object to stabilize his human appearance.

"Which way was the Aurora Order again? I think this is west of Backlund... Perhaps I should go home through the Spirit World first. Accidentally wandering into some noble's back garden would be troublesome..."

"...Move your clothes first." The thing he was carrying suddenly spoke. "They're covered in Sun Pathway spirituality. It's nauseating."

Edward stopped abruptly.

For an instant, the Monarch of Decay lost control of his human expressions as those words reached his ears. His face twisted hideously, startled that events had deviated from his expectations and delighted by the struggle of the True Creator's fate. His eyes widened, his pupils contracted, and the corners of his mouth rose uncontrollably until they nearly split... He wiped a hand over his face, smoothed the corners of his mouth downward, and kneaded his stiff facial muscles into their usual peaceful expression.

Edward lowered his eyes little by little, looking straight into the crimson eyes of the infant he was carrying, wrapped in his coat.

58

"Oh, my ally?" I greeted him as though nothing had happened. "I hadn't noticed. You seem to be doing quite well now."

It seemed Tingen had given him a small feast. The True Creator, who had only just been born but already looked about a month old, had little expression on his infant face, though a trace of confusion still showed through.

"I don't know," the True Creator said. "I was originally enveloped in extreme madness, but the instant I descended into this body, I suddenly became completely lucid. I thought it was a positive effect of the Descent of the True Creator, but—an hour has already passed, and I remain lucid."

"So you were normal the whole time."

I asked him, "And you just watched the Eternal Blazing Sun keep glaring at me?"

The True Creator's expression did not change. He was not led astray by my little attempt to change the subject, instead continuing to ponder why he had become lucid. He did, after all, have several angels. Over the centuries, descents had been attempted, and some had succeeded. But remaining lucid after this particular descent struck even him as strange. He thought, and kept thinking, his crimson eyes filled with bewilderment.

I was bewildered too. This should not have happened. The authority of the Decay Pathway was as straightforward as its literal meaning: it used various curses to naturally guide life toward the fate of death. At the end, out of personal preference, I would take away even the fate of death, allowing creatures who received my favor (affection) to live forever and ever. Why could he converse normally? The most prominent signs of my corruption were mental confusion, a wavering sense of self, and the loss of proper emotions. For a short time, the victim could not even think rationally, entering a long, silent madness of which they were unaware.

The body decayed, the mind decayed, emotions decayed, and the soul decayed as well. Consciousness blurred, and the self was lost... In his later years, Roselle had indeed relied on my curse to wrest a sliver of lucidity from the Mother Goddess of Depravity, but that had also pinned him even more firmly inside his mausoleum. He had not dared take so much as a single step outside.

What state was the True Creator in now? In their prayers, the Aurora Order's Secrets Suppliants said that Tranquility had come to them, but it had lasted only a few minutes before the ravings sounded again. That meant the "him" in my hands was not his complete self. He still stood within his sanctuary.

...So that was it. I understood.

I suppressed my loathing for fresh, living beings, looked at him in his infant form, and suddenly asked, "Are you very weak right now?"

The True Creator slowly turned his eyes toward me. He seemed displeased that I had brought this up. After all, no person (or god) would be happy to fall into a devil's hands in an imperfect state. Still, he answered, "Yes. I originally intended to split off half my power to descend, but something seems to have gone wrong. I am only Sequence 8 now."

"However, my connection to my main body remains close. I can transfer power here and gradually merge into one." He seemed to be warning me.

I nodded, immediately understanding what had caused the mishap.

"Weakened strength, heightened consciousness"... This was a curse I had experienced, the Sequence 8 curse of the Decay Pathway: the Powerless.

Sequence 9, meanwhile, was "heightened strength, weakened consciousness." At this stage, a creature's physical body and Beyonder abilities were significantly enhanced, but their inner definition of self would be slightly shaken, and their memories would become somewhat confused. In other words, their consciousness decayed. I had once used it to corrupt Roselle, acting as a catalyst to make his achievements even more glorious. Of course, it was only Sequence 9, after all. Becoming a Beyonder at that level was not especially dangerous, at least nowhere near Sequence 4, Heartless, where more than half lost control and died.

That was the most terrifying and elusive "decay of the heart." One's self-perception would blur again, and under the potion's influence, one would slowly acquire certain traits utterly unlike one's true self. Those thoughts felt perfectly natural and reasonable, requiring constant self-examination.

Once someone mistook thoughts altered by the potion for their own genuine intentions, death was certain. For example, a demigod had once died after becoming reckless. Their friend learned from this, remained vigilant at all times, and thought through and simulated every action three times before taking it. Then they too lost control. They were not a cautious person by nature; that very caution was their "decay of the heart."

"This is a good thing, my ally," I said. "Perhaps it was because of Evernight's Calamity. In any case, you descended successfully, thanks to Ouroboros."

-Ouroboros. Of course it was Ouroboros. It could only have been him, the King of Angels of Fate. I had underestimated him. He had protected his Lord without reservation, granting the True Creator good luck with all his might, allowing him to draw the most beneficial of my curses! Through my curse, his sense of self had strengthened, and he had actually gained lucidity... Who else on this planet could oppose me when it came to shaking fate?

"Ouroboros..." the True Creator murmured to himself, his thoughts unknown. "I have descended. This cannot be made public yet, but the upper ranks of the church must still be notified."

He and I exchanged a look, each understanding perfectly. The Seven Gods had joined forces to suppress the Aurora Order and the True Creator, leaving them almost no room to survive. If the Aurora Order's ecstasy over the successful Descent of the True Creator alerted the Eternal Blazing Sun, the Lord of Storms, and the God of Knowledge and Wisdom to the change in the True Creator's condition, the tacit understanding among the Seven Gods would break. It would become a joint campaign by those three gods to hunt down and corner the True Creator's believers.

"Thanks to you, the impact of this Descent of the True Creator was far smaller than I imagined. I had been prepared to fight a War of the Gods as soon as I descended," he said solemnly. "Things are still calm. It seems they have yet to determine whether my Descent of the True Creator actually succeeded."

"You don't have a church. Also, given our relationship and your identity, I think I ought to put you down and let you walk back yourself." I had adjusted my mood-Roselle had made a good replica; now that things had come to this, I might as well settle in-and tossed out a casual joke. "You're right. What do you want to do, then?"

The little infant, whose black-and-gold-streaked hair was quite distinctive, looked around. At last, his gaze settled on my ear-on the Pure Cross pendant hanging from it. Then the True Creator spoke:

"Give me some lighting."

...I suddenly had a rather bad feeling.

59

"The Lord is murmuring, but the Lord has not answered our prayers..."

"Even Mr. Z on the Sonia Sea felt his spirituality stir! Has the Descent of the True Creator ritual begun? Who did this? Wasn't this supposed to have been called off?!"

"...Lord, please take my soul with you..."

"Do not panic! Return to your places. His Excellency Saint Tenebrous is already conducting a ritual. We will soon receive the Lord's response!"

In one of the Aurora Order's largest bases in Backlund, the underground church was bustling as never before. Today was not a day of worship, and originally only a handful of believers had come to pray. Saint Tenebrous had presided over a small mass, and everything had been as usual. But at noon, a fierce wind suddenly swept through the church. The billowing curtains blocked the skylight at the top, and the sole source of natural light shining on the statue abruptly vanished. The candles went out one after another, plunging the church into darkness so complete that no one could see their own hands!

Something was rising, rising from the backs of the prostrate believers' hands until it reached a height that could almost engulf them entirely. It was a pitch-black curtain, the deepest of shadows, enveloping and covering the whole church. The statue became the only thing visible in that lightless space.

Terrified, the believers prayed even harder, their prayers almost screams. Between the roars came the sounds of bodies breaking down and flesh tearing apart. Everything was chaotic and hazy. Spirituality spread outward, and everyone felt as though they were deep within an enormous black mire, cut off from the world. At that moment, the church became a place of absolute, lightless darkness, where even time and space seemed to dissolve into nothing. In theory, there was no air within what had been swallowed, yet those inside felt no difficulty breathing. Whether their bodies were actually performing the act of "breathing," however, was impossible to know.

The thick, constantly overflowing "shadows" wrapped around their bodies like layer upon layer of glue, rendering them immobile. When they closed their eyes, they could hear the distant cries or quiet murmurs of many people, like a great tide.

A moment later, sunlight suddenly spilled inside. The believers, who had been struggling to endure the absolute silence of their spirituality and their utmost unease, abruptly breathed a sigh of relief.

What had that strange phenomenon foretold? The believers exchanged looks, only then realizing that the ravings lingering around their ears had weakened at some unknown point.

Saint Tenebrous Kisma, who was present, was about to speak to reassure everyone when he suddenly froze. He wheeled around and fell to his knees before the statue again, striking his forehead against the steps until blood streamed down.

For at that very moment, throughout the world, a shaft of pure sunlight suddenly pierced the darkness in the spiritual worlds of every high-ranking member of the Aurora Order. Mortals and angels alike looked up. Endless radiance poured down from the heavens, and a black inverted cross stood between heaven and earth. It was the symbol of God. From somewhere unimaginably distant came a proclamation that resounded like a great bell.

"I anoint myself with blood and hang inverted at the end of the world, bearing suffering for all beings and redeeming their sins. I created you from dust, yet you are as leaves with nowhere to rest; you stand as though in a stream, with no Tranquility beneath your feet. Seek those who share our fate and join the unending tribulations. Believe in me, and you shall be saved."

"Pray. As long as you have strength, continue to preach. Cleanse your souls with prayer, and praise my grace with faith."

The words ended there, but just before they did, the black cross suddenly became gilded in dazzling gold. In an instant, it blazed as brilliantly as the sun falling to earth—it was unmistakably a golden Latin Cross, the symbol of the true Sun God buried in history!

This... this was... The long-lived saints and angels stared wide-eyed in disbelief. Those few who had lived in the paradise whose radiance shone across the land, and had also witnessed the sun's fall, shed tears of joy. On the route to the Berserk Sea, Saint of Darkness Leomaster prostrated himself ecstatically in a small boat. Even as mountainous waves tossed the vessel up and down like a toy, he remained utterly still. In the shadows of the Forsaken Land of the Gods, Angel of the Holy Word Stiffer had lost his lantern somewhere in his frantic kneeling. Black monsters prowled around him, only to be swallowed by shadows spreading from the angel that were deeper and more terrifying than darkness itself.

"Praise you! Praise you! The Lord that Created Everything! The Lord who Reigns Behind the Curtain of Shadows! You are the God of Gods, ruler of the vast Astral World! Your words, far removed from the dust, descend from heaven and bring us joy and salvation!"

"We must not halt our steps. We must drive the devils from the earth for the Lord! Your kingdom shall come, and you shall return to heaven! We shall love you with all our hearts and all our strength, and we shall surely see the heavenly hosts gathered before your divine throne once more!"

"We ought to offer him the faith of all beings. This is our creed. Those who have ears to hear should hear the Lord's gospel..."

"...Those who have eyes to see shall surely see the Lord's glory. As long as we can still act, we shall bring his realm to earth."

Their ecstasy was plain to see. Even after the spiritual revelation ended, they remained on their knees, praying again and again, and did not rise for a long time.

60

"Finished?"

"Yes. Broadcasting precisely across the entire world consumes a great deal of spirituality. It's exhausting. That trace of the sun's aura on your clothes has been used up too. Throw them away."

"...The broadcast used my spirituality. Why are you complaining about being tired? These clothes were all custom-made by hand. You'll have to reimburse me later."

"Even devils care about money?"

"You'll care about it soon enough too."

TBC

*Much later, Medici, who had missed the Lord's broadcast because he was imprisoned in a basement, was filled with regret and fought himself for three hundred rounds to vent his anger.

*Sequences 9 through 4 of the Decay Pathway are all various curses, in this order: consciousness, strength, flesh, emotions, soul, and heart. It is somewhat similar to the Prisoner Pathway, but curses already acquired also recur from time to time. After advancing to Sequence 3, all the curses disappear, and you can use these powers to curse others.

-"You must first experience decay yourself, understand it, and accept it. Only then can you let others experience this joy."