Chapter 49 - Apostle Garnish

Gaf led the knights Kembel and Maira into the reception room.

"I'll have some tea brought in. Make yourselves comfortable while you wait."

With that curt remark, Gaf left the room, leaving Kembel and Maira alone.

Maira dropped into a chair.

"Can't you take that helmet off now? I feel stifled just looking at you."

Kembel had not once removed his visor since arriving at the lord's castle. Even after Yohan's rebuke, he had insisted on remaining fully armed.

He did have a reason of his own.

Kembel slowly raised his visor.

"What else am I supposed to do, looking like this?"

The face he revealed was hideous, half of it covered in burn scars. The dreadful sight might have made anyone else grimace, but Maira showed not the slightest disturbance.

He spoke calmly.

"Those scars are proof of your loyalty. Take a little more pride in them."

Kembel grumbled.

"I got them attacking a prince in the dead of night. What's there to be proud of?"

The words had barely left his mouth before Maira thundered at him.

"How can you be so careless? What if someone heard you?"

"There's no one here but us."

"You fool. Keep running your mouth and you're bound to slip up someday. Watch what you say at all times, instead of regretting it when it's too late. Understood?"

Under Maira's scolding, Kembel muttered in a barely audible voice.

"Always with the damn nagging... I'm not a fucking three-year-old."

"Why, you little—!"

"All right. I understand, so leave it at that."

Maira glared at Kembel, then let out a long sigh. His expression softened, and he spoke very quietly.

"You merely did your duty as a knight. Thanks to you, the Third Prince fell from grace, and the Seventh Prince gained an opportunity. Take more pride in yourself."

The Third Prince was Gawain. The Seventh Prince was the son of Count Staviana's daughter.

A shadow crossed Kembel's face.

"That day is still vivid in my mind. The look in His Highness's eyes as he went berserk, his wailing, the resentment he felt toward me. Sometimes he even appears in my dreams and squeezes my heart."

Four years earlier, Kembel and several other warriors had disguised themselves as assassins and attacked the Third Prince's palace. Count Staviana had ordered them to send Gawain into a rampage.

In the end, they had succeeded. Branded an unnatural son, Gawain had been driven from the palace. He had originally been the prince designated to become crown prince.

Maira rested a hand lightly on Kembel's shoulder.

"Every undertaking demands sacrifice. Someday His Highness will rise to greatness and commend your efforts. So hold your head high. Be proud of those scars."

Kembel buried his face in his hands.

"... Whether the Seventh Prince takes the throne or not, I can never tell anyone how I got these scars. I'll always have to make something up if anyone asks. Pride? Ha! These scars will shame me for the rest of my life. In the end, they're the brand of a traitor."

Kembel had raised his sword against royalty. The Seventh Prince's accession would not erase that crime. Nor would his service ever be acknowledged as long as he lived.

He was a knight, yet no different from a spy lurking in the shadows. There was no honor in it.

Maira shook his head, as though Kembel were pitiful.

"Tsk. A man who can stand proud before himself has no need of others' recognition. You still have a very long way to go."

"Yes, you're right. You're always right, Maira. And narrow-minded as I am, I don't much like this assignment either. The Baron's heir? Whatever he is, I don't see what makes that brat important enough for us to come all the way to this backwater in person."

A messenger could have delivered the invitation. There was no reason to send two knights.

Maira's expression grew quite serious.

"Until yesterday, I would have agreed with you. Now I'm not so sure. Did the Baron's heir look like an ordinary brat to you?"

"Well..."

"I thought otherwise. He was mature to an extraordinary degree, with an air about him that's difficult to describe. It's not easy to leave that sort of impression on someone. Certainly not for a boy of barely ten."

When Maira had met Yohan's gaze, he had felt a peculiar pressure. He had felt compelled to show him genuine respect.

It was an utterly unfamiliar experience.

"In short, you're saying the Count realizes there's something unusual about the Baron's heir?"

"Most likely. He probably sent us all this way to test that suspicion."

"But the Count has never even met the Baron's heir, has he? Why would he be wary of a mere child, and a bastard at that?"

"The balance shifted the moment the boy appeared. Kril killed himself, and his forces scattered. And that's not all. I hear the people favor the Baron's heir, too. Apparently, he adjusted the tax rate and dismissed all the tribute girls. Those actions are a devastating blow to the Count."

Count Staviana coveted the Miyatro domain. More precisely, he wanted its treasure vault—the forbidden library.

Naturally, Yohan's very existence was a thorn in his side.

Kembel's eyes turned cold.

"... Don't tell me we've come to dispose of the Baron's heir?"

"You're getting ahead of yourself. We need only report what we've seen and felt to the Count. Still, we ought to make our report a little more substantial."

"How?"

"Let's do some investigating. The Baron's heir's upbringing, his relationships, his mother's origins, and so on. The Count will be pleased if we find even one unusual detail."

Kembel nodded slowly.

"Now that you've explained it, I finally understand why the Count sent us."

"He'll want us to use our own judgment as the situation demands."

Just as Maira finished speaking, a knock came at the door. A maid entered carrying teacups.

Kembel and Maira exchanged a glance and changed the subject.

The maid had gone rigid. She had seen Kembel's scars.

* * *

"If anything feels even slightly wrong, close your eyes immediately."

Yohan was surrounded by complex equations—Ilea's mind-protection magic. It was the bare minimum of safeguards against unforeseen circumstances.

"I will. Don't worry so much."

"Good. Shall we begin?"

Yohan put on the monocle.

Instantly, the world before him changed completely. Everything in his sight was warped, and a vast rift lay at the center of the distortion.

He might have been overwhelmed by fear of the unknown. Instead, he felt at peace. His eyes gazed into the void as though entranced.

"... What a strange feeling."

"Yohan, are you all right?"

He slowly reached toward the rift.

"I feel no resistance from it. You were right. The rift's interdiction doesn't apply to me."

Ilea had been unable even to approach the rift. For Yohan, it was different. He felt as though he could enter that void at any moment.

He even felt an instinctive pull toward it.

"That's a relief. Let's stop here for today."

There was still no guarantee that the rift's interior was safe. Now that they had seen what was possible, there was no harm in waiting until they could take further precautions.

Yohan agreed with her.

"All ri—"

Just as he was about to remove the monocle, a tremendous pull seized him. An irresistible force snatched up his entire body.

In an instant, he vanished.

Into the pitch-black void.

* * *

Inside, it was both bright and dark. He stood with his feet on the ground, yet also seemed to be hanging upside down, his feet against the ceiling.

His vision stretched like a rubber band, then shattered like glass. A gentle melody and a scream-like ringing battered his eardrums at the same time.

His five senses, each operating independently of the others, gnawed away at his mind. He struggled to remain sane.

Just when he thought he would truly go mad, an androgynous voice reached his ears.

"Now, why don't you close your eyes? You'll feel a little better."

The cacophony kept the words from getting through properly.

"Oh dear. I'll have to hammer it straight into your brain."

Yohan's brain began to throb.

『Closeyoureyesyoumustcloseyoureyescomeonitisn'thardisitjustcloseyoureyesandyou'llfeelbetternowlet'slowerthoseeyelidsthinkofdriftingofftosleepandgentlyclosebotheyesit'sreallyeasysimplerthananythingyou'veeverdone』

At the same time, Yohan's eyelids slid shut. Every phenomenon that had been destroying his mind melted away like snow.

In the pitch-black darkness, he regained his composure.

The androgynous voice spoke again.

"I will now explain the rules."

His brain shook once more.

『 First, do not open your eyes. 』

『 Second, do not remove the monocle. 』

『 Third, ask no questions of any kind. 』

The voice continued.

"Very simple, yes? You must follow them closely. Should you break them,"

His brain shuddered.

『 Your soul shall wander the world of the dead, bereft of reason. Your flesh shall be buried deep beneath the earth to become the compost that forms the Abyss. 』

It became a voice again.

"Trusting that you understand, I'll begin with a brief introduction. My name is Garnish. The world calls me the second end."

Garnish, Second Apostle of the End. An Archdemon who governed every form of corruption, and a being familiar to Yohan.

"I invited you here. You seemed intent on wasting time talking about safety, so I resorted to somewhat forceful means. I do hope you'll understand."

Garnish continued.

"You're wondering why you've been invited, aren't you? Ah, but you mustn't ask. Don't forget the rules. I'll tell you everything without your asking. Why did I summon you? It's simple. I wanted to help. Miraculously, a bridge has formed between us, allowing us to communicate, if only briefly. Surely we ought to make use of such an opportunity? I intend to take this chance to give you what you need most. And what might that be? Why, a 'fragment of the Great Saint's corpse.'"

Yohan needed a fragment of the Great Saint's corpse to corrupt the holy spear Espada.

"Espada was a Class Four holy relic, wasn't it? Ha ha! Really, the cost far outweighs the prize. Sacrificing a Class One sacred relic to corrupt a Class Four holy relic! Anyone who heard would burst out laughing. Not me, of course. I know perfectly well that you have no choice."

Yohan had no alternative. Sacrificing one person implanted with a sacred relic was preferable to offering up two thousand innocent humans.

"Here, take it. Careful, it's slippery. Don't squeeze too hard. It might burst. Ha ha!"

Something soft and squishy settled in Yohan's grasp.

"Such an unpleasant texture. Can you guess what it is? No, you can't. I doubt you can. It's the Great Saint's intestines!"

Of course Yohan knew. Five hundred years ago, Garnish had been the one to pierce the Great Saint's belly and drag out his intestines. He had kept them as a badge of honor ever since.

"You don't seem very surprised."

"It doesn't move me much."

"Ahem."

Garnish seemed a little embarrassed.

Yohan spoke.

"I don't know why you're helping me, and you won't even let me ask questions, so there's only one thing I can say. I'll put the intestines to good use."

"Yes. You certainly should. It's an extraordinary sacred relic."

In truth, the Great Saint's intestines were the most useless of his body parts preserved as sacred relics. The effect one could expect from transplanting them was far too trivial.

'Automatic elimination of feces, was it?'

In a sense, it was a clean and holy power, but it was utterly worthless to Yohan.

He spoke with his eyes still closed.

"If that's all you have to say, I'd like you to let me out now."

"... You're rather impatient."

"I'd like to end this one-sided conversation as soon as possible."

Yohan had so many things he wanted to know, yet he could not ask a single question. His instincts warned him not to break the 'rules.'

"I understand. Truly, from the bottom of my heart. But I still have one more item to give you."

"Hand it over."

"Do I owe you something?"

"You said yourself you'd give it to me."

"... Very well. Here you are."

Yohan felt something like tough leather against his hand.

"A mortal wearing this collar can pass in and out of the rift just as you do. You need a living sacrifice to place upon the Unhallowed Array, don't you? Snatch up anyone you like and bring them here. I'll draw the Unhallowed Array for you. Incidentally, the holy spear Espada and your corrupted body are here."

Activating the Unhallowed Array ultimately required a living sacrifice, but most mortals could not enter this place. Even if Yohan obtained a sacrifice, he would have no way to place it on the array.

The collar solved that problem.

He was quite pleased.

"You're a surprisingly decent fellow."

"And you're more shameless than I expected."

"Whatever the case, thank you. I'll put it to good use."

"Think nothing of it. It will all come back to me someday."

Nothing in the world was free. Yohan knew that better than anyone.

Someday, he would have to pay for today.

"I understand. Now let me out."

"You really are... unusual, aren't you? I'll see you again soon."

At that moment, Yohan's vision flickered. He slowly opened his eyes.

Something suddenly flung itself into his arms. Snow-white silver hair fell across his face.

Raguel felt his way toward him and sighed with relief.

A ball of fur sprang from Ilea's clothes and shouted.

"O great End! Have you vanquished the otherworldly being? Are those the spoils in your hands?"

Yohan held a milky-white lump of flesh in one hand and a black collar in the other.

"... I was worried. Thank you for coming back."

Ilea's voice trembled faintly.