Chapter 81 - A Nod (1)

"!"

HUM!

As the resonance spread through the unseen depths, Alon felt an instinctive terror begin to tear through his brain. His whole body trembled as though he stood before a predator, his consciousness grew hazy, and the thought that he had to flee this place immediately began to dominate his mind.

And that was...

'No—can't—if I run—'

'I can't run—'

'Run... away.'

'I have to run...!'

...no different for Radan.

His thoughts warped. As though possessed by something, his mind operated unconsciously, churning out the same single thought over and over.

'IhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorunIhavetorun—'

As if entranced, Radan instinctively swept his hand around and grabbed something. It was a piece of wooden debris from a pirate ship the fishfolk had sunk. Seeing its pointed end, he felt an involuntary sense of relief.

'I can escape.'

With that thought, he raised the debris in his right hand without hesitation and aimed it at his throat.

"Ghk—!"

His senses returning at the last moment, Radan bit his own tongue and twisted the piece of wood he had been moving instinctively, driving it into his forearm instead. Blood rose through the water along with a sharp, stinging pain.

'That was close.'

At the sight, Radan realized he had nearly fallen victim to the being in the depths below and clenched his teeth. But then he felt puzzled.

The enormous eye beneath the sea, which had been dragging him into the depths and relentlessly filling him with terror only moments earlier, now betrayed an emotion that anyone could have recognized as out of place.

Radan stared blankly, then turned his gaze. He soon realized that he was not the only person in the waters into which the green scales had dragged him.

There was the Great Moon, a blue-hued potion held in his mouth, preparing to form hand seals.

He must surely have felt the same impossible terror as Radan, yet there was no change in the Great Moon's expression. He was simply impassive, as though that terror had never had any effect on him at all.

As Radan watched Alon with unwitting awe, he suddenly realized that everything had stopped.

The green scales dragging Radan into the depths all ceased moving. The ominously shifting currents stilled.

And with them—

[—!]

The eye that had regarded him with the emotionless gaze of a fishfolk only moments before...

[One who holds... a star?]

...filled with unmistakable confusion and fear before Radan's eyes.

Then—

[—̷̐̔W̌̈͜h̴̓͆à̶̕t̶̀̌,̷͗̒ a̴͊͌ ṕ̷͗ȋ̕t̸͑̓y.]

With a bizarre, spine-chilling voice, the enormous eye that had been drawing Radan into the depths began to close slowly.

Emotions flickered through the closing eye.

Shock.

Fear.

... Awe.

[I̓͝f̽̇ o͐̍n͊̓l̉̂y̵̛͗ t̴̑̃h̒̆e̷͐͠r̓͝e̽̇ h͐̍a͊̓d̉̂ b̵̛͗ȇ̴̃e̒̆n̷͐͠ t̓͝i̽̇m͐̍e͊̓—]

At last, the eye in the darkness of the depths closed completely. Kalak-Kul, which had been pulling him down, vanished altogether.

"..."

Radan stared blankly at the sight, then turned his gaze to Alon—no, to the Great Moon—and stared.

Yet Alon, the recipient of Radan's awed gaze, was himself thinking:

'... What was that?'

... In truth, he did not really understand what had happened. Amid the terror gnawing at his mind, he had been about to form hand seals and cast a spell to stop Radan from being dragged away somehow, when Kalak-Kul had abruptly made its exit.

'Besides "star eater," I think I heard it say something else through all that distortion—'

He looked bewildered for a moment as he recalled the spine-chilling voice.

'I'm alive...'

For now, Alon decided to be content with the fact that he had survived and moved toward the surface to get some air.

####

About a week later.

In the end, Radan had united the Seven Fleet Isles, while Alon had spent a week suffering from the aftereffects of mana depletion. Of course, compared with mana poisoning, which took a full six months to cure, this was a fairly mild(?) penalty, so Alon did not consider it all that bad.

Especially since every encounter with an Outer God left him, to exaggerate a little, half crippled.

Of course, he had dealt with Kalak-Kul so easily largely because it had only just manifested and had not inherited any of its abilities. Above all, the human sacrifices had not been properly completed. Still, what mattered to Alon right now was that he had dealt with a demigod without suffering any serious injuries or worse.

... Anyway, during the four days Alon spent recuperating that way, he experienced two major changes.

One was the way the pirates looked at him. In truth, he had been aware to some extent that their gazes were less than friendly ever since he arrived at the isles.

But after that day—

"H-hello, sir! Biggest Brother!"

"Did you enjoy your meal, Biggest Brother!?"

"... Yes."

—the pirates had begun calling Alon Biggest Brother.

And it was not just the ordinary pirates.

"Well, if it isn't Biggest Brother! Feeling better now?"

"Tariq."

Even the pirate lords, who served directly under Radan, all treated him that way.

"If you need anything, just say the word. I'll put the boys on it straightaway."

"Thank you."

"Hahaha! This is nothing! Of course I'd do that much for Biggest Brother!"

Alon wore a peculiar expression as he watched the pirate lord of the Fourth Fleet Isle leave with a hearty laugh.

The pirates who had been casting disgruntled looks his way only a few days ago now regarded him with trust and respect plain for anyone to see. And although he had no idea where it had started, every last one of them called him Biggest Brother.

'... It's not a bad thing, but somehow I feel like I've become a mob boss.'

The other change was Pelin Kraisinne's attitude. Apart from their very first meeting, he had never been particularly hostile toward Alon, but neither had he been friendly. If Alon had to define their relationship, "rather distant acquaintances" would have been the most accurate description.

Yet since the recent incident, Pelin too had been looking at Alon with eyes brimming with respect.

... Enough to make Alon feel a little uncomfortable, honestly.

'Well, there's nothing wrong with building a good relationship with a talented mage.'

Still, to be honest, the complete reversal in his attitude left Alon somewhat bewildered.

Anyway, after spending about four days recovering and experiencing those changes, Alon had regained enough strength to head straight for the coast at the eastern edge that the creature had mentioned. To that end, he sought out Radan.

"Are you feeling better now, Big Brother?"

"Do you happen to know anything about the coast... at the eastern edge?"

"The coast at the eastern edge?"

"Yes."

"Well, yes... I don't know whether it's the place you're looking for, Big Brother, but that refers to the eastern coast of an island in the Sifra Isles."

"Sifra?"

"Yes. It's about six hours from here. Do you know it?"

"To some extent."

Alon nodded. Sifra, the place Radan had mentioned, was somewhere he always visited at least once when playing Psychedelia.

'The Sifra Isles, also known as the Island of Criminals.'

Like the underworlds of Asteria and Ashtalon in the allied kingdoms, Sifra, the Island of Criminals, was exactly what its name suggested: a gathering place for all manner of criminals and pirates. Alon had frequently visited it while playing Psychedelia to use its black market, which sold quite a few unidentified relics.

Remembering that, he asked:

"I'd like to go right away. Would that be possible?"

"If you want to leave, Big Brother, we can go this very moment."

"Then please arrange it. Ah."

Nodding at the immediate agreement, Alon let out a brief exclamation and added,

"Come to think of it, I still haven't given you this."

As he spoke, Alon placed a small box on the desk.

"A gift."

"... A gift?"

"Yes. I meant to give it to you when I first arrived, but it took me a while."

Radan looked at the box with a slightly surprised expression.

"If it's a gift from you, Big Brother, I'd be truly grateful to accept it."

He smiled and took the box. Soon afterward, Alon set off for the Sifra Isles with Radan.

####

The journey to the Sifra Isles was exceedingly peaceful. Besides Radan, Penia and Pelin also came along, this time of their own accord rather than at Alon's invitation. From what Alon heard, it seemed they had something to investigate in the Sifra Isles.

After roughly six hours at sea, Alon arrived in Sifra around the time the sun stood high overhead. He decided to travel around the island alone for now. His visit to the eastern coast was something he had to undertake on his own, after all.

'Of course, the whole Island of Criminals thing does worry me a little.'

The island might be a rough place, but it was basically a town, so surely it would be safe enough. With that thought, Alon was the first to disembark—and soon regretted getting off alone.

'This is damned confusing.'

The streets of the Sifra Isles were far more complicated than he had expected. He certainly had no poor sense of direction, yet he kept circling back to the same place.

'How does it make any sense that I end up here whether I go left, straight ahead, or right?'

It was absurd. He stopped in front of a sign to his right reading "Rum's Bounty," which he had already seen several times. On the off chance they could help, he asked four people drinking together at the streetside pub:

"I'd like to ask you something. Do you happen to know how to get to the eastern coast?"

It was a reasonably polite question.

"Huh? How the fuck should I know, you dumb bastard!"

"Pwahahahaha! He does look like a dumbass! A proper little priss! A priss! Hahahaha!"

Their response was just what Alon had expected. Realizing he would not get an answer out of them, he had no choice but to move on.

About twenty minutes later—

"... Ah."

Alon let out a quiet exclamation. Despite having headed somewhere else, he was looking at Rum's Bounty for the fifth time already.

Just as Alon began wondering whether he should turn back, a voice called out.

"Excuse me—"

"?"

He turned toward the voice and saw a man. Recognizing him as one of the men who had been sitting in a corner of the pub mocking him earlier, Alon looked puzzled.

Unlike twenty minutes ago, the man looked extremely anxious despite the smile on his face. He spoke.

"Y-you said you were looking for the eastern coast, didn't you? You can get there by following the road ahead, then taking the left branch at the fork on the right."

"..."

Now the man was offering the answer he had refused to give earlier. Moreover, his smile was utterly at odds with a face that looked as though he had killed a person or two, instinctively stirring a little suspicion in Alon.

"I-it's true. Once you reach the fork on the right, you'll be able to see the road to the beach beyond the hill anyway. You can check for yourself."

Perhaps sensing Alon's thoughts, the man hurried to add that explanation.

"... You seemed to be laughing at me earlier. Why tell me now?"

"Ah, well—I thought about it and realized I'd been a little too harsh. That's all."

Alon looked thoughtful at that extremely awkward explanation.

'Well, the road he mentioned is a broad main street, not an alley, so I doubt I'll be walking into a trap... Shall I give it a try?'

He had been wandering around this place for nearly an hour and wanted to get out, so he decided to try following the man's directions.

"Then I'll thank you for now."

With that, Alon began walking along the broad main street as directed.

And only after confirming that Alon had left did the man let his smile fall away. His face awash with fear and anxiety, he turned his gaze toward the alley beside the pub.

There lay the companions who had been laughing and chatting with him only moments earlier, beaten into bloody pulps, in such a dreadful state that he could not even tell whether they were alive or dead.

"..."

And there stood the king of pirates, watching him with a gaze so chilling that he felt he would piss himself just by meeting it.

Then the Pirate King nodded once, turned, and disappeared.

THUD!

The man collapsed where he stood. It was an utterly humiliating way to sink to the ground, but he did not care.

Instead—

'I'maliveI'maliveI'maliveI'maliveI'malive—'

—he offered nothing but boundless thanks to God for the fact that he was still alive.