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More than anything, I wanted to head to Pendrox immediately. Dominic’s current state was definitely, in part, his fault.
Gunther himself had once gone through brainwashing, and he knew that feeling all too well. Your mind remains clear, yet you are forced to stand by and watch the horrific things your own hands are doing. The word “hell” felt far too weak to describe such a state.
From that very reed field by Audrey House until now—that was the tragedy Dominic had been living through.
“I have to save him.”
This was necessary not only out of humanity, but also out of pure pragmatism. At present, for some unknown reason, Dominic had “gone berserk,” slipped from Luthien’s control, and ended up imprisoned in Pendrox. But what if the madness subsided and Luthien took him back into their hands?
“Then the continent will once again face its worst enemy.”
But rushing there headlong was impossible. Pendrox was a location that could never be conquered without meticulous planning and preparation. A prison located at the northernmost edge of the Theocracy, in the middle of the Northern Sea. Even in the game, it could not be cleared without gathering a mountain of hidden items.
“This will be far harder than Audrey House.”
First, he needed to consult with Dimona, who had experience escaping from it, and then combine all their knowledge into an assault plan.
“For that, I’ll need...”
Sufficient combat power. A plan to support it. And finally, a way to return the maddened Dominic to normal. Those three conditions had to be fulfilled as quickly as possible.
That was why Gunther quickly settled on his next destination.
“...I suppose I should start here.”
After forming a rough plan, Gunther carefully finished reading the remaining records. In doing so, he learned about the continent’s political situation over the last five years, as well as what had transpired inside Night Raven.
[Whoosh!]
As promised, he destroyed the records. Running the most important details through his mind, Gunther left Grand Crow’s room.
<Alphonse of Red Street is displeased that you did not take the records in full> <The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats praises you for keeping your word>
<The Drug-Addicted Saint folds her hands prayerfully, anticipating the coming Karma party>
Unfortunately, the Karma feast the Saint had been so eagerly awaiting had to be postponed a little longer. On the way to the exit, someone called out to Gunther in a loud, flustered voice.
“Huh? Oh! Hey, Moonless! Fancy running into you.”
A person with deep exhaustion stamped all over his face strode toward him. His dark blue hair, hanging to his neck, swayed as he came to a stop.
“Do something about those damned brats! I’m begging you!”
“...Damned brats?”
Cheonmae was trembling all over, as if too many grievances had built up inside him.
“I mean the commander of the Fifth Platoon and his demonic subordinates. They absolutely, absolutely refuse to listen!”
The blood vessels visible through the mask over his eyes looked ready to burst from misery.
“Last time they skipped all of training, saying it was the anniversary of their teacher’s death, and now what? They want to go watch a play together as a whole group?”
“......”
“In the Night Raven of my day, something like this would’ve been unimaginable. Seriously, what have these kids turned our secret organization into... AAAAAAAAAAH!!”
Halfway through the sentence, Cheonmae broke into a scream that sounded like a cry torn from the soul. Apparently, he had been assigned responsibility for the Fifth Platoon.
“Still, they’re too young to operate on their own.”
The reason Grand Crow had entrusted the Fifth Platoon specifically to Cheonmae was obvious. Despite his snappish temper and rough personality, he was fundamentally kind and caring. Among the organization’s members, he was probably the best suited for the role. Letting his shoulders slump, Cheonmae continued.
“Do something. They listen to you, at least. Last time, when they were dead set on storming Pendrox, you were the one who stopped them.”
“...Ah, right. Okay, I’ll try talking to them.”
“Yeah... thanks.”
Gunther gave the dejected Cheonmae an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t get so worked up, senior. They’re still children.”
“Yeah, children. Incredibly talented and vicious children.”
...Just how much had they grown to deserve a description like that?
“They didn’t seem that mischievous before.”
If anything, they had seemed obedient. While Gunther was lost in doubt, Cheonmae trudged away and soon disappeared from sight. But Gunther himself did not leave right away.
“......”
From the corridor opposite him, he felt someone’s gaze.
“Hm-m... So you’re that famous commander of the Fourth Platoon. Nice to meet you.”
Gunther froze as he looked at the unfamiliar woman who stepped out before him.
“You...”
Her appearance was not merely mysterious, but somehow alien.
Ash-colored hair fell all the way to her waist. Her skin looked so dry it seemed devoid of even a drop of moisture. She wore a robe that looked far too large for her frail frame, and every visible patch of skin was tightly wrapped in bandages.
Despite belonging to Night Raven, she wore no mask. Then again, she did not need one—her face, aside from her eyes, was entirely hidden beneath bandages. The only thing Gunther could make out was that she was a woman with deep violet eyes.
Because of that, he felt a rare confusion.
Judging by the aura she gave off, she was no weaker than Cheonmae. Which meant she belonged among Night Raven’s strongest fighters. ...Yet a character with this appearance had never appeared in the original game.
“Did she join the organization because of the Reality Reconstruction, or...”
Gunther rapidly sifted through the massive volume of records he had just read. But before he found the answer, she smiled broadly (he could tell by the way the bandages shifted) and walked past him.
Toward the place he had just come from.
“Going to meet Grand Crow?”
The reason was unclear, but he had a premonition they would meet again in the near future. Gunther watched her go, then turned around. Fortunately, no one else stopped him.
<The Drug-Addicted Saint breaks into a smile, thinking that if Karma can be obtained this time, the shackles binding them might finally be cast off>
...However, once again, Gunther had to betray the Saint’s expectations.
[Shuffle]
On the way back to the Eterno Cheongdam shelter, Gunther suddenly stopped. No matter how stable public safety had become, the streets of the Lower City after sunset were still deserted.
And right in the middle of that empty street stood a shabby tent stitched together from scraps of old cloth, swaying in the wind. The bells and ornaments hanging at the entrance let out a pleasant sound.
[Clink]
Gunther smirked.
“So you’ve finally appeared.”
He was almost glad.
Because far too many questions had piled up.
[Flap-flap]
Without hesitation, Gunther pulled aside the tent flap and stepped inside.
“Hello. You came?”
“It’s been a long time.”
To his great surprise, he found two figures waiting for him inside.
***
The old tent was exactly as he remembered it. A dark, cramped space, stale air thick with the mixed scents of smoke and incense. Crystal balls and cards were scattered about in utter disorder.
Only one thing had changed.
Beside the mistress of the tent, the witch in the pointed hat, sat another man of unreal beauty. Still dressed in an expensive suit, he lazily tapped the heel of his shoe and, upon noticing Gunther, waved warmly.
“◆...”
This was their first meeting since he had received the Blessing. Silently, Gunther shifted his gaze from one entity to the other, pulled up a chair, and sat opposite them. ◆ smiled gently.
“It seems you’re glad to see us, Gunther.”
“I’ve accumulated far too many questions.”
“Yes, I thought as much. You just returned from the past, didn’t you?”
“...So you know.”
◆’s expression turned enigmatic.
“We simply cannot help but know everything about you.”
“......”
Whenever these “Diamonds” started speaking in riddles, pressing them was pointless. Gunther gave a short nod and shifted his gaze to the witch.
There was one strange thing. The mistress of this tent was definitely ◇. Yet today, ◆ was the one speaking. The witch merely sat there with her arms folded, silent, like someone sunk in deep thought. Gunther continued.
“So, if I ask, will you answer?”
“If it is something we are allowed to answer.”
◆ smiled softly and nodded.
“It seems you’ve now reached a sufficient rank to endure it.”
“Rank, huh...”
Still, compared to their last meeting, Gunther truly had become an entirely different person. [N O V E L I G H T] His hierarchy had risen, and the passive skills resisting divine pressure had accumulated significantly. Perhaps because of that, the strange sensation of being dragged somewhere whenever he met these unidentified deities now felt much weaker. ...Maybe today, many mysteries could finally be unraveled.
“Good. Then I’ll start with this.”
Gunther immediately got to the point.
“One of you wants me to gather the Tablets, and the other doesn’t. Which of you is ‘for’ it, and which is ‘against’? And why?”
The answer came from the witch, who had remained silent until now.
“I am the one who wants you to gather the Tablets.”
“Why?”
“Hmm... Gunther, what do you think the Tablets are?”
Gunther answered without hesitation.
“A record and a key.”
At that answer, ◇ waved away the swirling smoke.
“Correct. Exactly. To be more specific... they are records of a history that has repeated itself countless times, and the only key capable of breaking that vicious cycle.”
“...A history repeated countless times?”
“I believe you are that very ‘new possibility’ that can change this history. On the other hand, my brother...”
◆ gave a shrug and took over.
“Yes, I’m one of those who considers the Tablets themselves far too dangerous.”
Gunther looked from one to the other and let out a short sigh.
“Not exactly an exhaustive explanation.”
“Understand us, Gunther. In your eyes, we may seem nearly omnipotent, but we have just as many limitations.”
“Then let me change the question.”
The moment he said that, the air inside the tent changed. As if they already knew what the next question would be.
“Intervening in the past and using the Tablets for Reality Reconstruction. Will that be possible in the future? If there are conditions or a price, what are they?”
A quiet sigh escaped ◆.
“Oh, Gunther, you’re thinking of changing the past again. And for that, you intend to keep collecting the Tablets.”
“No one knows how life will turn.”
Gunther remained expressionless.
“There may come a moment when changing the past becomes absolutely necessary.”
“...That is an arrogant thought. To believe you can calculate the endless chains of cause and effect born from interfering with the past. No one is capable of that, and in the end, you will face an ending fundamentally different from what you intended.”
Gunther was fully aware of that danger himself. Even if you corrected the past with good intentions, no one could guarantee what reality would become in the end. For example, you might simply save a drowning child, only for that child to become the greatest dictator in history years later. Something like that could absolutely happen.
But at the same time, there was also the possibility that the world might tilt in a better direction.
Like now, when the power of the Seven Evil Gods had weakened.
“I don’t intend to abuse it. It’ll only be a last resort.”
Gunther gave a shrug.
“In any case, the way you’re both dodging the subject means it’s possible.”
After a brief silence, ◆ replied.
“Gunther, you are not an ordinary person. If you’ve thought deeply about your Return ability, then you should already know this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have you ever imagined what happens to the world you leave behind after death?”
Of course he had.
What would happen to the comrades left behind after he died? Did that world continue to exist while he alone returned backward? Or did it vanish, as if the lights had been switched off? He had built countless hypotheses. In the end, he abandoned the line of thought because there was no way to obtain an answer.
But now ◆ seemed prepared to provide one.
“A regressor is an axis.” freēwēbηovel.c૦m
“...An axis?”
“It means that the lines of the world you do not observe disappear. Of course, shifting the axis with the Tablets is also possible. However, frequent changes of axes never lead to anything good.”
At the moment ◆ was about to say something more—
[Crackle!]
Along with the sharp sound of electricity, red sparks illuminated the dark tent. ◆, surrounded by red lightning, let out a heavy sigh. Gunther instinctively understood as well: any further exchange of information was impossible.
“Still, tonight’s haul is rich.”
Recalling the conversation in the tent, he spoke.
“Meeting you always required a payment. What is it this time?”
But the answer did not come immediately.
Gunther realized the witch’s gaze was fixed directly on him. She enunciated every word clearly.
“The price will be paid on its own.”
A wave of déjà vu washed over Gunther. Without knowing why, he reflexively checked himself. In the inner pocket of his robe was a wooden case. Inside was the Tablet given to him by Mikhela—the very one that had shown him Dominic’s past and forced him to intervene.
“......”
As he opened the lid of the case, Gunther gave in to an intuition that was difficult to put into words.
“...Ha.”
He remembered perfectly well what the Tablet had looked like. An object that scattered and reflected light like a prism.
But now the Tablet had changed, and the form it had taken was far too familiar.
[Click, click]
Gunther placed the Tablet, now transformed into a glass marble, onto the table.
“...So this is what you’ll take as payment.”
The glass marble once given to him by the brother and sister he had saved from the smugglers’ warehouse. The very same marble that had shattered during his first meeting with ◇ as payment for granting luck.
The Tablet had taken on that exact same form.
“So that was also a Tablet used to alter the past?”
A chill ran down his spine.
One realization slammed into his mind: besides himself, there was someone else capable of changing the past.
And that person was most likely...
“Yes.”
◇ nodded as if she had read Gunther’s thoughts. Only now did he understand why the witch had remained silent all this time. To pass this information on to him, she had avoided the “restrictions” as much as possible.
“She is also in Pendrox.”
[CRACKLE!]
At that same instant, red sparks far stronger than before engulfed the tent. Gunther felt the presence of the two entities rapidly receding. The last thing that remained was ◆’s whisper.
“Be careful.”
[Shuffle]
Gunther blinked.
The tent had vanished without a trace.
Time had not skipped forward like last time. It was still the dead of night.
But the situation had changed completely.
Before Gunther’s eyes was no longer the empty street of the Lower City. Spears and swords were pointed directly at him. Everywhere, the flames of burning torches darted in frantic motion.
<The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats groans at the sight of you being completely surrounded> <He advises breaking through toward an advantageous position>
[Tiliing!]
<White Dawn is taking aim at you>
“...White Dawn? Sounds like a benevolent god.”
The moment that name appeared, a stabbing sensation ran through his back. The encirclement tightened. The man standing at the front stared directly at Gunther. His bloodlust was on full display, with no attempt to hide it.
“The air suddenly grew so heavy that I wondered if I was imagining things.”
The stranger’s gaze scanned Gunther from head to toe.
“But you really did appear. Your presence is faint, but impossible to mistake.”
Gunther was beginning to understand what was happening.
“Ah, shit.”
[Shing]
The man drew his sword.
“Contractor of the Evil God, Vanguard of the Dark Night.”
He said it as if delivering a sentence.
“I will punish you.”
