An easily fooled Outer God

"In any case," Rennala said, her smile fading as she grew serious.

"This Horace Loux and his tribe are worth further contact and observation. I will send people to investigate their background thoroughly, and formally discuss the terms for establishing themselves in Liurnia with him. In the meantime, little sister, since you were the one who 'discovered' them and 'brought them back,' I will leave subsequent contact and coordination with them to you for now. Hmm, consider it... getting to know them better?"

Her last remark once again carried a hint of teasing.

Rellana opened her mouth, wanting to refuse, but she saw the unquestionable look in her sister's eyes, then thought of how this really was serious business involving the family's interests, and how she did indeed seem to be the most suitable person.

In the end, she could only give a sullen "Mm," while her mind remained a tangled mess.

That barbarian... I have to keep dealing with him?

Meanwhile, Horace Loux, who was temporarily staying in Caria Manor's guest quarters, was not as idle as he appeared.

Most of the time, his mind was occupied with planning the tribe's development and considering the specific details of cooperating with Caria.

But at one quiet moment late at night, an icy, cloyingly sweet consciousness quietly touched the fragile thread of connection he had established with the Formless Mother.

The information it conveyed was vague and chaotic, filled with a primal craving for "wounds" and "bleeding," but this time, it also contained a strange excitement, as though over a "discovery."

It took Horace Loux some effort to extract the core meaning from that chaotic stream of thoughts:

She had sensed "rot."

It was the presence of "rot" itself, something more fundamental and far greater.

Beneath the land of Liurnia, deep below waters that had once been clear, a terrifying deity closely tied to the very concept of "rot" lay sealed.

Horace Loux understood. What the Formless Mother had sensed was probably "Scarlet Rot" itself, sealed by the Flowing Water Swordsman within the underground Lake of Rot.

"Rot is a 'phenomenon' that inevitably arises from stagnation in this world," Horace Loux recalled the relevant knowledge.

"Flowing water counters rot. The Flowing Water Sword Form bestowed by the Blue Dancer defeated it, but it also polluted the lake, creating the present Lake of Rot. It was sealed, but never completely perished..."

Horace Loux was not surprised that the Formless Mother could detect the presence of rot.

However much she slacked off, she was still an Outer God. The Lake of Rot was directly beneath Liurnia; there was no way she could fail to sense it.

He responded mentally to the Formless Mother's "sharing": "Yes, Mother. That is the 'rot' sealed here, an ancient power that brings decay and endings."

He thought the Formless Mother was simply curious about discovering a "novel wound."

However, the Outer God's next thought left Horace Loux unsure whether to laugh or cry, and even struck him as absurd.

The formless mother conveyed an emotion mingling a child's innocent curiosity with a predator's cruel probing: Since it was sealed... didn't that mean it couldn't move? Like a butterfly pinned to a specimen board?

Then... would it "bleed"? Did the "wounds" of other deities also contain unique "pain" and "vitality"? I really want to see.

Horace Loux fell silent.

This Outer God's thought processes really could not be judged by ordinary standards.

She regarded "rot" as a trapped "deity," and showed a keen interest in "observing," and perhaps even "touching," another deity's "wounds."

He asked tentatively, "Mother, do you wish to... approach the seal? Or..."

"Look at the wounds." The mental reply was simple, direct, and full of anticipation.

"It must be in such 'pain,' mustn't it? Pierced by flowing water, imprisoned beneath the cold lake... that pain must be so 'delicious.'"

Horace Loux was left utterly speechless by his ATM lady's flights of fancy.

Go provoke the sealed Scarlet Rot? Even just to "look"?

Leaving aside the power and contaminating nature of rot itself, the chain reaction that disturbing the seal might trigger would alone be enough to plunge all of Liurnia, and even a much wider area, into catastrophe.

His current little body could not withstand that kind of ordeal.

But directly refusing an Outer God's "small request" did not seem sufficiently "devout" either, and might affect future "withdrawal" services.

To keep this bank-president mother happy, so that she would cheerfully process his withdrawals.

His mind turned, and he immediately replied, "Mother's gaze is truly profound, able to perceive concealed suffering. Visiting a deity's wounds is indeed an undertaking filled with mystery and danger. It requires meticulous preparation, the right timing, and sufficiently covert means, lest we alert other unnecessary presences. This matter requires careful, long-term consideration."

First, he set a lofty tone, packaging "visiting a deity's wounds" as something extremely challenging and full of "ceremony," then emphasized the need for "preparation" and "timing."

After all, the Formless Mother had no clear concept of time. To her, "careful, long-term consideration" might mean decades, centuries, or even longer.

Agree first and keep this "client" settled. Later... just keep putting it off.

Wait until I'm strong enough, or the situation changes, before dealing with it.

Sure enough, in response to Horace Loux's "solemn" reply, the thoughts conveyed by the Formless Mother became very "pleased."

She seemed quite satisfied with the importance this "devout believer" placed on this "great undertaking."

As "advance payment," or perhaps "encouragement," a surge of "cursed-blood" even more torrential than before poured through that invisible connection!

Horace Loux was already prepared. With his Great Runes fully activated, he channeled every last trace of this energy, enough to instantly plunge an ordinary person into blood-madness, toward the Gate of Myriad Laws.

The gate trembled slightly, giving a soft, satisfied hum, and the sheen on its surface grew a little brighter and more substantial.

Although it was still far from enough for the next "major operation," even scraps counted, and small amounts added up.

"Thank you for your blessing, Mother!" Horace Loux sent back a "devout" thought.

"I will work tirelessly toward this goal!"

The Formless Mother withdrew, thoroughly satisfied, leaving only that cold thread of connection still entwined with him.

Horace Loux breathed a sigh of relief, once again confirming how "useful" and "easily fooled" this "ATM lady" was.

As long as he found what "excited" her and satisfied her twisted "curiosity" and "urge to collect," energy did not seem particularly difficult to obtain.

Of course, the prerequisite was that he had to stay on edge, ready at any moment to deal with those "flights of fancy" of hers that might get him killed.

A few small facts.

The Crystalians are allies of the Carian Royal Family: [One of the sorceries of the Carian Royal Family. Creates floating masses of magic, then rains down magical projectiles over a wide area. Can be cast while moving, and charging extends its duration. It is said that the Crystalians taught this sorcery when an ancient oath was sworn.]

You can stick your hand into the Formless Mother as you please: [A sacred incantation of Mohg, Lord of Blood. Thrust an arm into the body of the Formless Mother, then scatter her bloodflame before the caster, setting the area ablaze. Can be performed while moving. When he encountered the Mother of Truth, who craved wounds, deep underground, Mohg's cursed-blood erupted into flame. Ever since, he has loved the defilement he was born with.]